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ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA.
Cnwlopacfcta Bntaumta:
OR, A
DICTIONARY
OF
ARTS, SCIENCES, AND MISCELLANEOUS
LITERATURE;
ENLARGED AND IMPROVED.
THE SIXTH EDITION.
sllustratrti Until nearlp sir lumtntU fiEngraUmgs.
VOL. III.
INDOCTI DISCANT; AMENT MEMINISSE PERITI.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY:
AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND COMPANY, 90, CHEAPSIDE,
LONDON.
1823.
3 ;f,
: APS
,5 ^
Encyclopaedia Britannica.
ASS
Aviacktbn. A SSOCIATION, the act of associating, or consti-
^ 1 \ toting a society, or partnership, in order to carry
on some scheme or affair with more advantage. The
word is Latin, associatio; and compounded of ad, to,
and socio, to join.
Association of Ideas, is where two or more ideas
constantly and immediately follow or succeed one ano-
ther in the mind, so that one shall almost infallibly pro¬
duce the other, whether there be any natural relation
between them or not. See Metaphysics.
Where there is a real affinity or connexion in ideas,
it is the excellency of the mind, to be able to collect,
compare, and range them in order, in its inquiries: but
. where there is none, nor any cause to be assigned for
their accompanying each other, but what is owing to
mere accident or habit, this unnatural association be*
comes a great imperfection, and is, generally speaking,
a main cause of error, or wrong deductions in reasoning.
Thus the idea of goblins and sprights, it has been
observed, has really no more affinity with darkness than
with light} and yet let a foolish maid inculcate these
ideas often on the mind ol a child, and raise them there
together, it is possible he shall never be able to separate
them again so long as he lives, but darkness shall ever
bring with it those frightful ideas. With regard to
this instance, however, it must at the same time be ob-
served, that the connection alluded to appears far from
being either unnatural or absurd. See the article Ap¬
parition.
Such wrong combinations of ideas, Mr Locke shows,
are a great cause of the irreconcileable opposition be¬
tween the different sects of philosophy and religion : for
we cannot imagine, that all who hold tenets different
from, and sometimes even contradictory to, one ano¬
ther, should wilfully and knowingly impose upon them¬
selves, and refuse truth offered by plain reason : but
some loose and independent ideas are, by education,
custom, and the constant din of their party, so coupled
in their minds, that they always appear there together :
these they can no more separate in their thoughts,
than if they were but one idea, and they operate as if
they were so. This gives sense to jargon, demonstra¬
tion to absurdities, consistency to nonsense, and is the
foundation of the greatest, and almost of all the errors
hi the world.
Association forms a principal part of Dr Hartley’s
mechanical theory of the mind. He distinguishes it
mto synchronous and successive j and ascribes our simple
Vol. III. Part I. j
ASS
and complex ideas to the influence of this principle Association,
or habit. Particular sensations result from previous 1 '
vibrations conveyed through the nerves to the medul¬
lary substance of the brain $ and these are so intimate¬
ly associated together, that any one of them, when im¬
pressed alone, shall he able to excite in the mind the
ideas of all the rest. Thus wre derive the ideas of natural
bodies from the association of the several sensible qua¬
lities with the names that express them, and with each
other. I he sight of part of a large building suggests
the idea of the rest instantaneously, by a synchronous
association of the parts ; and the sound of the words,
which begin a familiar sentence, brings to remembraime
the remaining parts, in order, by successive association.
Dr Hartley maintains, that simple ideas run into com¬
plex ones by association j and apprehends, that by pur¬
suing and perfecting this doctrine, we may some time
or other be enabled to analyze those complex ideas, that
are commonly called the ideas of reflection, or intel¬
lectual ideas, into their several component parts, i. e.
into the simple ideas of sensation of which they consist}
and that this doctrine may be of considerable use in the
art of logic, and in explaining the various phenomena
of the human mind.
Association of Parliament. In the reign of King
William HI. the parliament entered into a solemn as¬
sociation to defend his Majesty’s person and government
against all plots and conspiracies} and all persons bear¬
ing offices civil or military, were enjoined to subscribe
the association to stand by King William, on pain of
forfeitures and penalties, &c. by stat. 7 and 8 W. III.
c. 27.
Association, African. This is an institution which
was formed in the year 1788, for the purpose of pro¬
moting discoveries in the interior parts of Africa. Out
of the number of the members, of which this society
consists, five are elected for the management of its funds
and correspondence, and for the appointment of persons
to whom tiie missions are assigned. Mr Ledyard was
the first who was sent out, for accomplishing the object
of the society. He undertook the adventurous task,
of traversing from east to west, the widest part of the
African continent, in the latitude which was ascribed
t:o the Niger} and with this view he arrived at Cairo
in August 1788. But before his projected journey
commenced, he died, and the hopes that were enter¬
tained of this enterprising and persevering traveller
were disappointed. Mr Lucas was next chosen by the
A committee.
ASS [ 2
committee. In October 17885 he embarked for Tri¬
poli ; and he was instructed to proceed over the desert
of Zaara to Fez//.an, to collect all the information that
could he obtained, respecting the interior of the Afri¬
can continent, and to transmit it byway of Inpoj.
He was then to return by way of Gambia, or the coast ot
Guinea. But his peregrinations terminated at Mesurata.
The difficulties arid dangers which presented themselves
deterred him from proceeding farther. He transmitted
to the society only the result of his conferences with
the traders to Fezzan, with whom he was travelling;
and soon after returned to England. >
The society still persevered in its object,, and m the
year 1790, appointed Major Houghton, with instiuc-
tions to sail for the mouth of the Gambia, and to tra¬
verse the country from west to east. He. arrived on
the coast in November the same year, immediately
commenced his journey, ascended the river Gambia to
Medina, 900 miles distant from his mouth, and thence
proceeded to Bambouk, and to the adjoining kingdom
of Kasson, where, in September the year following, he
unfortunately terminated his travels with his hie, near
to the town of Jarra.
Mr Park was engaged by the society in the same
service in 1795, and pursuing- the route of Major
Houghton, more successfully explored the banks of the
Niger, to Sego and to Silla, the first 01 that great line
of populous cities which divide the southern from the
northern deserts of Africa. The information which
Mr Park collected, during his adventurous journey, was
communicated to the society in 1798. In a second
journey, commenced in 1805, this enterprising traveller
perished, after having reached the Niger ; but the cir¬
cumstances of his death have not been ascertained with
perfect certainty.
Mr Horneman, who had offered himself to tne
committee in 1796, departed from London in July
1797, and proceeding by Cairo, commenced his journey
westward with the caravan, in September 1798. In
November following, he arrived at Mourzouk in tez-
zan, from which- his last despatches to the society were
transmitted by way of Tripoli, but no accounts ot his
death ever reached the society. r t> . •
John L. Burckhardt, the son of a citizen of Basle in
Switzerland, was engaged by the society in 1808.
After some preparatory steps, he set out in March
1809. He remained two years and a had at Aleppo;
thence he went to Egypt.' Unfortunately no caravan
set out for the interior ol Africa for a series of yeais.
He was thus disappointed in his leading object; but he
made two journeys up the Nile, and visited Mecca,
Medina, and Mount Sinai. Diseases brought on by
fatigue and the climate, at length put a period to his
life in September 1817. See Africa, Supplement.
ASSOILZIE, in Law, to absolve or free.
ASSONANCE, in Rhetoric and Poetry, a term
used where the words of a phrase or a verse have the
same sound, or termination, and yet make no proper
rhyme. These are usually accounted vicious m English;
though the Romans sometimes used them with.elegan¬
cy ; as, Militem comparavit, exercitum ordinuvit, acieni
lustravit. .
ASSONANT RHYMES, is a term particularly ap¬
plied to a kind of verses common among the Spaniards,
where a resemblance of sound serves instead of a natu¬
ral rhyme. Thus ligera, cubierta, Uerra, mesa, may
] ASS
answer each other in a kind of assoTtant rhyme, ha- As^oan,
ving each an e in the penult syllable, and an a in the Assumpsit.
last.
ASSUAN See Syene.
ASSUMPSIT, In the Law of England, a voluntary
or verbal promise, whereby a person assumes, 01 takes
upon him to perform or pay any thing to another.
A promise is in the nature of a verbal convenant, and
wants nothing hut the solemnity of writing und sealing
to make it absolutely the same. If therefore it be to
do any explicit act, it is an express contract, as much
as anv covenant; and the breach of it is an equal in¬
jury. The remedy indeed is not exactly the same :
since, instead of an action of covenant, there only lies
an action upon the case, for what is called an assitmp-
sit or undertaking of the defendant .; the failure of pei-
forming which is the wrong or injury done to the
plaintiff, the damages whereof a jury are to estimate
and settle. As, if a builder promises, undertakes,
or assumes to Caius, that lie will build and cover his
house within a time limited, and fails to do it; Caius
has an action on the case against the builder lor this
breach of his express promise, undertaking, or as¬
sumpsit ; and shall recover a pecuniary satisfaction for
the injury sustained by such delay, bo also in the
case of a debt by simple contract, if the debtor pro¬
mises to pay it and docs not, this breach of promise
entitles the creditor to his action on the case, instead
of being driven to an action of debt. Ibus likewise a
promissory note, or note ot hand not under seal, to
pay money at a day certain, is an express assumpsit;
and the payee at common law, or by custom and act
of parliament the indorsee, may recover the value ot
the note in damage, if it remains unpaid. Some
agreements indeed, though never so expressly made, are
deemed of so important a nature, that they ought not
to rest in verbal promise only, which cannot be proved
but by the memory (which sometimes will induce the
perjury of witnesses. To prevent which, the statute
of frauds and perjuries, 29 Car. II. c. 3. enacts, that
in the five following cases no verbal promise shall be
sufficient to ground an action upon, hut at the least
some note or memorandum ot it shall he made in
writing, and signed by the party to he charged there¬
with : 1. Where an executor or administrator promises
to answer damages out of his own estate. 2. Where
a man undertakes to answer for the debt, default, or
miscarriage, of another. 3. Where any agreement is
made upon consideration of marriage. 4. Where any
contract or sale is made of lands, tenements, or heredi¬
taments, or any interest therein. 5. And lastly, where
there is any agreement that is not to be performed witi
in a year from the making hereof. In all these cases
a mere verbal assumpsit E void.
From these express contracts the. transition is easy to
those that are only implied by law. Which are such as
reason and justice dictate, and which therefore the law
presumes that every man has contracted to perform,
and, upon this presumption, makes him answerable to
such persons as suffer by his non-performance.
Thus, 1. If I employ a person to transact any busi¬
ness for me, or perform any work, the law implies that
1 undertook, or assumed, to pay him so much as his
labour deserved ; and if I neglect to make him amends,
he has a remedy for his injury by bringing lus action
on the case upon this implied assumpsit: wherein he is
ASS
Assumpsit, at liberty to suggest that I promised to pay him so
'-—'v "* "•J much as he reasonably deserved, and then to aver that
his trouble was really worth such a particular sum,
which the defendant has omitted to pay. But this
valuation of his trouble is submitted to the determina¬
tion of a jury j who will assess such a sum in damages
as they think he really merited. This is called an oc-
sumpsit on a quantum meruit.
2. There is also an implied assumpsit on a quantum
valebat, which is very similar to the former j being only
where one takes up goods or wares of a tradesman,
without expressly agreeing for the price. There the
law concludes, that both parties did intentionally agree
that the real value of the goods .should be paid 5 and an
action on the case may be brought accordingly, if the
vendee refuses to pay that value.
3. A third species of implied assumpsit is when one
has had and received money belonging to another with¬
out any valuable consideration given on the receiver’s
part *, for the law construes this to be money had and
received for the use of the owner only $ and implies
that the person so receiving, promised and undertook to
account for it to the true proprietor. And, if he un¬
justly detains it, an action on the case lies against him
for the breach of such implied promise and undertakings
and he will be made to repair the owner in damages,
equivalent to what he has detained in such violation of
his promise. This is a very extensive and beneficial
remedy, applicable to almost every case where the de¬
fendant has received money which ex cequo et bono he
ought to refund. It lies for money paid by mistake, or
on a consideration which happens to fail, or through
imposition, extortion, or oppression, or where undue ad¬
vantage is taken of the plaintiff’s situation.
4. Where a person has laid out and expended his
own money for the use of another at his request, the law
implies a promise of repayment, and an action will lie
on this assumpsit.
5. Likewise, fifthly, upon a stated account between
two merchants, or other persons, the law implies that
he against whom the balance appears has engaged to
pay to the other ; though there be not any actual
promise. And from this implication it is frequent for
actions on the case to be brought, declaring that the
plaintiff and defendant had settled their accounts toge¬
ther, insitnul computassent (which gives name to this
species of assumpsit) ; and that the defendant engaged
to pay the plaintiff the balance, but has since neglect¬
ed to do it. But if no account has been made up,
then the legal remedy is by bringing a writ of account,
ik computo ; commanding the defendant to render a just
account to the plaintiff, or show the court good cause
to the contrary. In this action, if the plaintiff' suc¬
ceeds, there are two judgments 5 the first is, that the
defendant do account {quod computet) before auditors
appointed by the court ; and when such account is
finished, then the second judgment is, that he do pav
the plaintiff so much as he is found in arrear.
6. The last cla ss of contracts, implied by reason and
construction of law, arises upon this supposition, that
every one who undertakes any office, employment,
trust, or duty, contracts with those who employ or in¬
trust him, to perform it with integrity, diligence, and
skill: and if by his want of either of those qualities any
injury accrues to individuals, they have therefore their
ASS
remedy in damages by a special action on the case. A Assumpsit
few instances will fully illustrate this matter. If an ii
officer of the public is guilty of neglect of duty, or a
palpable breach of it,of non-feasance,or of mis-feasance; , iiVt‘’ ,
as, if the sheriff does not execute a writ sent to him,
or if he wilfully makes a false return thereof j in both
these cases the party aggrieved shall have on action on
the case for damages to be assessed by a jury. If a
sheriff or gaoler suffers a prisoner who is taken upon
mesne process (that is, during the pendency of a suit)
to escape, he is liable to an action on the case. But if,
after judgment, a gaoler or sheriff permits a debtor
to escape, who is charged in execution for a certain
sum $ the debt immediately becomes his own, and he
is compellable by action of debt, being for a sum li¬
quidated and ascertained, to satisfy the creditor in his
whole demand. An advocate or attorney that betray
the cause of their client, or, being retained, neglect
to appear at the trial, by which the cause miscarries,
are liable to an action on the case, for a reparation to
their injured client. There is also in law always an
implied contract with a common innkeeper, to secure
his guest’s goods in his inn ; with a common carrier or
barge-master, to be answerable for the goods he car¬
ries ; with a common farrier, that he shoes a horse well,
without laming him j with a common taylor, or other
workman, that he performs his business in a workman¬
like manner : in which if they fail, an action on the
case lies to recover damages for such breach of their
general undertaking. Also, if an innkeeper, or other
victualler, hangs out a sign and opens his house for tra¬
vellers, it is an implied engagement to entertain all
persons who travel that way ; and upon this universal
assumpsit an action on the case will lie against him for
damages, if he without good reason refuses to admit a
traveller. In contracts likewise for sales, if the seller
doth upon the sale warrant it to be good, the law an¬
nexes a tacit contract to this warranty, that if it be
not so, he shall make compensation to the buyer ; else
it is an injury to good faith, for which an action on the
case will lie to recover damages.
ASSUMPITON, a festival in the Romish church,
in honour of the miraculous ascent of the Virgin Mary
into heaven : the Greek church, who also observe this
festival, celebrate it on the 15th of August with great
ceremony.
Assumption, in Logic, is the minor or second pro¬
position, in a categorical syllogism.
Assumption is also used for a consequence drawn
from the proposition whereof an argument is composed.
Assumption, an island in North America, in the
gull of St Lawrence, at the mouth of the great river of
the same name. It is covered with trees. W. Long.
60. 40. N. Lat. 49. 30.
Assumption, a large and handsome town of Proper
Paraguay, on the river of the same name in South Ame¬
rica. It is a bishop’s see, is well peopled, and seated in
a country fruitful in corn and fruits, whose trees are al¬
ways green. There is likewise a quantity of pasture,
and the air is temperate and salutary. W. Long. c8.
40. S. Lat. 24. 50.
ASSUMPTIVE arms, in Heraldry, are such as a
person has a right to assume, with the approbation of
his sovereign, and of the heralds: thus, if a person
who has no right by blood, and has no coat of arms,
A 2 shall
[ 3 1
ASS
[ 4 ]
ASS
Assurance shall captivate in any lawful war any gentleman, no¬
bleman, or prince, be and his heirs are, in that case,
entitled to bear the shield of that prisoner for ever.
ASSURANCE, or Insurance, in Commerce. See
Insurance. See also Assurance in the Supple¬
ment.
ASSUROR, a merchant, or other person, who makes
out a policy of assurance, and thereby insures a ship,
house, or the like.
ASSUS, or Assos, in Ancient Geography, a town ot
Troas (though by others supposed to be of Mysia), and
the same-with Apolloma (Uliny) j but different from
the ApolIonia on the river Rhyndacus. Ptolemy places
it on the sea-coast, but Strabo more inland ; if he does
not mean the head of an inland bay, as appears from
Diodorus Siculus. It was the country of Cleanthes
the Stoic philosopher, who succeeded Zeno. St Luke
and others of St Paul’s companians, in his voyage
(Acts xx. 13. 14 )) went by sea from Troas to Assos :
but St Paul went by land thither, and meeting them
at Assos, they all went together to Mytelene. It is now
called Bairani. E. Long. 26. 20. N. Lat. 39. 10.
ASSYRIA, an ancient kingdom of Asia, concern¬
ing the extent, commencement, and duration of which,
historians differ greatly in their accounts. Several an¬
cient writers, in particular Ctesias and Diodorus Sicu¬
lus, have affirmed, that the Assyrian monarchy, un¬
der Ninus and Semiramis, comprehended the greater
part of the known world. Had this been the case, it
is not likely that Homer and Herodotus would have
omitted a fact so remarkable. The sacred records in¬
timate, that none of the ancient states or kingdoms
were of considerable extent; for neither Chedorlaomer,
nor any of the neighbouring princes, were tributary or
subject to Assyria j and we find nothing of the greatness
or power of this kingdom in the history of the judges
and succeeding kings of Israel, though the latter king¬
dom was oppressed and enslaved by many different
powers in that period. It is highly probable, therefore,
that Assyria was originally of small extent. Accoidiug
to Ptolemy, it was bounded on the north by Armenia
Major ; on the west by the Tigris; on the south by
Susiana } and on the east by Media.
It is probable, that the origin and revolutions of the
Assyrian monarchy were as follows.-—The founder of
it was Ashur, the second son of Shem, who went out
of Shinar, either by the appointment of Nimrod, or
to elude the fury of a tyrant; conducted a large body
of adventurers into Assyria ; and laid the foundation ot
Piaufair't Nineveh (Gen. x. n.). These events happened not
Chronolo- long after Nimrod had established the Chaldtean mo¬
narchy, and fixed his residence at Babylon. The Per¬
sian historians suppose that the kings of Persia of the
first dynasty were the same with the kings of Assyria,
of whom Zohah, or Nimrod, was the founder of Babel.
(Herbelot Orient. Bibl. v. Bagdad). _ It does not, how¬
ever appear, that Nimrod reigned in Assyria. I lie
kingdoms of Babylon and Assyria were originally di¬
stinct and separate (Micah, v. 6.) ; and in this state
they remained until Ninus conquered Babylon and
made it tributary to the Assyrian empire. . Ninus the
successor of Asher (Gen. x. II. Diod. Sic. lib. i.)»
seized on Chaldaea, after the death of Nimrod, and
united the kingdoms of Assyria and Babylon. Ibis
great prince is said to have subdued Asia, Persia, Media,
try
Egypt, &c. If lie did so, the effects of his conquests Absyria.
were of no duration j for in the days ot Abraham, we
do not find that any of the neighbouring kingdoms
were subject to Assyria. He was succeeded by Se¬
miramis } a princess ot an heroic mind j bold, enter¬
prising, fortunate ; but of whom many fabulous tilings
have been recorded. It appear, however, that there
were two princesses of the same name, who flourished at
very different periods. One of them was the consort of
Ninus } and the other lived five generations before Ni-
tocris queen of Nebuchadnezzar (Euseb. Chron. p. 58-
Herod. lib. i. c. 184.). This fact has not been attend¬
ed to by many writers.
Whether there was an uninterrupted series of kings
from Ninus to Sardanapalus, or not, is still a question.
Some suspicion has arisen, that the list which Gtesias has
given of the Assyrian kings is not genuine ; for many
names in it are ot Persian, Egyptian, and Grecian ex¬
traction.
Nothing memorable has been recorded concerning the
successors of Ninus and Semiramis. Of that effemi¬
nate race of princes it is barely said, that they ascend¬
ed the throne, lived in indolence, and died in their pa¬
lace at Nineveh. Diodorus (lib. ii.) relates, that, in
the reign of Teutames, the Assyrians, solicited by Pi 1am
their vassal, sent to the Trojans a supply of 20,000
foot and 200 chariots, under the command of Memnon,
son of Tithonus president of Persia : But the truth of
his relation is rendered doubtful by the accounts of other
writers. # .
Sardanapalus was the last of the ancient Assyrian
kings. Contemning his indolent and voluptuous coursu
of life, Arbaces, governor of Media, withdrew bis al¬
legiance, and rose up in rebellion against him. He was
encouraged in this revolt by the advice and assistance
of Belesis, a Chaldean priest, who engaged the Baby¬
lonians to follow the example of the Medes. These
powerful provinces, aided by the I eisians anc otnex al¬
lies, who despised the effeminacy, or dreaded the ty¬
ranny of their Assyrian lords, attacked the empue on
all sides. Their most vigorous efforts were, in the be¬
ginning, unsuccessful. Tirm and determined, however,
in their opposition, they at length prevailed, defeated
the Assyrian army, besieged Sardanapalus in his capital,
which they demolished, and became masters of the em¬
pire, B. C. 821.
After the death of Sardanapalus, the Assyrian empire
was divided into three kingdoms, viz. the Median, As¬
syrian, and Babylonian. Arbaces retained the supreme
power and authority, and fixed his residence at Ecba-
tana in Media. He nominated governors in Assyria
and Babylon, who were honoured with, the title of
kino;.?, while they remained subject and tributary to tbe
Median monarchs. Belesis received the government
of Babylon as tbe reward of his services j and Phul
was intrusted with that ot Assyria. Hie Assyrian.go¬
vernor gradually enlarged the boundaries ot his king¬
dom, and was succeeded by Tiglath-pileser, Salmana-
sar, and Sennacherib, who asserted and maintained
their independency. After the death of Assar-haddon,
the brother and successor of Sennacherib, the kingdom
of Assvria was split, and annexed to the kingdoms of
Media' and Babylon. Several tributary princes after¬
wards reigned in Nineveh j hut no particular account?
of them is found in the annals of ancient nations. W*
hear
AST [ 5 ] AST
Attyii* hear no more of the kings of Assyria, but of those of
9 ^ Babylon. Cyaxares king of Media assisted Nebu-
'c ' . cbadnezzar king of Babylon, in the siege of Nineveh,
which they took and destroyed, B. C. 606. The
Chaldean or Babylonish kingdom was transferred to
the Medes, after the reign of Nabonadius, son of Evil-
merodach, and grandson of Nebuchadnezzar. He is
styled Belshazzar in the sacred records, and was con¬
quered by Cyrus, B. C. 538.
ASSYTHMENT. See Assithment.
ASTA, an inland town of Liguria, a colony (Pto¬
lemy) on the river Tanarus : now Asti. E. Long. 8.
15. N. Lat. 44. 40.
Asta Regia, a town of Baetica, (Pliny) ■, situated
at the mouth of the Bsetis which was choked up with
mud, to the north of Cadiz : 16 miles distant from the
port of Cadiz, (Antonine). Its ruins show its former
greatness. Its name is Phoenician, denoting a frith or
arm of the sea, on which it stood. It is said to be the
same with Xera ; which see.
ASTABAT, a town of Armenia, in Asia, situated
near the river Aras, 12 miles south of Nakshivan. The
land about it is excellent, and produces very good
wine. There is a root peculiar to this country, called
ronas; which runs in the ground like liquorice, and
serves for dyeing red. It is very much used all over
the Indies, and in it they have a great trade. E. Long.
46. 30. N. Lat. 39. o.
ASIAN DA, in antiquity, a royal courier or mes¬
senger, the same with angarus.—King Darius of
Persia is said by Plutarch, in his book on the fortune
of Alexander, to have formerly been an astanda.
AST A ROTH, or Ashtaroth, in antiquity, a
goddess of the Sidonians.—The word is Syriac, and
signifies sheep, especially when their udders are turgid
with milk. From the fecundity of these animals, which
in Syria continue to breed a long time, they formed
the notion of a deity, whom they called Astaroth, or
Astarte. See Astarte.
Astaroth, in Ancient Geography, the royal resi¬
dence of Og king of Bashan ; whether the same with
Astaroth Carnaim, is matter of doubt: if one and the
same, it follows from Eusebius’s account, that it lay ia
Bashan, and to the east of Jordan, because in the con¬
fines of Arabia.
ASTARTE, in Pagan mythology, (the singular of
Astaroth), a Phoenician goddess, called in scripture
the queen of heaven, and the goddess of the Sidonians.
—Solomon, in compliment to one of his queens, erect¬
ed an altar to her. In the reign of Ahab, Jezebel cau¬
sed her worship to be performed with much pomp and
ceremony 5 she had 400 priests *, the women were em¬
ployed in weaving hangings or tabernacles for her;
and Jeremiah observes, that “ the children gathered
the wood, the fathers kindled the fire, and the women
kneaded the dough, to make cakes for the queen of
heaven.”
AstaK^e, in Ancient Geography, a city on the other
side Jordan ; one of the names of Rabbath Ammon, in
Arabia Petrsea, (Stephanus).
ASTEISM, in Rhetoric, a genteel irony, or hand¬
some way of deriding another. Such, e. gr. is that of
Virgil :
Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina, Mcevi, fc..
Diomed places the characteristic of this figure, or spe- Asteisw,
cies of irony, in that it is not gross and rustic, but in* Asteil.
genious and polite. * '" " 1
ASTELL, Mary, an English lady who was an
eminent writer, was born at Newcastle-upon-Tyne in
the year 1668. Her father, who was a merchant,
committed the education of his daughter to her uncle,
who was a clergyman. Convinced of the general in¬
jury done to young ladies at that period by the defi¬
ciency of their education, he taught her the Latin and
French languages, and instructed her in the principles
of logic, mathematics, and natural philosophy. Ha¬
ving spent 20 years of her life in Nervcastle, she re¬
tired to London, where she continued the pursuit of
her studies ; and, deeply affected with the general ig¬
norance of her sex, she employed the first fruits of her
pen to rouse them to a proper emulation, in a work,
“ A serious Proposal to the Ladies, wherein a Method
is offered for the Improvement of their Minds,” print¬
ed in i2mo, at London 1697* The chief object of
that book was to ex’ect a seminary for female educa- /
tion. A certain lady, supposed to be the queen, form¬
ed the design of devoting io,oool. to this honourable
purpose; but Bishop Burnet having suggested, that it
would have too much the appearance of a nunnery, the
design did not take effect.
Disappointed in the article of marriage with an emi¬
nent clergyman, she next wrote a book entitled “ Re¬
flections on Marriage,” which was published in 1700.
This lady was a zealous advocate for the religious
system commonly called orthodox ; and in politics, de¬
fended the doctrine of nonresistance. About this time
she published some controversial pieces, among which
are the following : “ Moderation truly stated ;” “ A
Fair Way with the Dissenters “ An Impartial En¬
quiry into the causes of the Rebellion ;” and “ A Vin¬
dication of the Royal Martyrs ;” all printed in 4U)
in 1704. Her most finished performance was, “ The
Christian religion as professed by a Daughter of the
Church of England,” published in 1705, in a large
octavo volume. Dr Waterland speaks of this book in
very favourable terms; and such was the intrepidity of
this lady, that she has attacked both Locke and Tillot-
son in the controversial part. In the evening of her
life Mrs Astell was attacked with the severe disease of
a cancer in her breast; the amputation of which she
bore with singular fortitude. At the advanced age of
63 she died in the year 1731.
Mrs Astell appears to have been a woman, of uncom¬
mon talents as a writer and scholar ; rigid in her prin¬
ciples, and austere in her manners. Since a nerv era
of female education has commenced, such an author
as Mrs Astell would have attracted little notice ; but
at a period of society when few women could read, and
scarcely any could write, it was highly honourable for
a female to suggest hints, however imperfect, for tire
improvement of female education. It may farther be
remarked, that it deserves to be mentioned, that about
a century ago a lady informed the public by her pen,
that “ women, who ought to be retired, are for this
reason designed for speculation,” and that “ great im¬
provements might be made in the sciences, were not
women enviously excluded from this their proper busi¬
ness.” Deeming her time more valuable than-to bir
wasted by trifling visitors, and abhorring the practice
of
Asteii
AHcria.
AST [ (
of teaching servants to lie, she would humorously ac¬
cost such visitors by saying, “ Mrs Astell is not at
home.” (Gen. Biog.').
ASTER, Starwort. See Botany Index.
Aster, or Stella Marina, in Zoology. See Aste-
rias, Helminthology Index.
ASTERABAD, a small province in the north-east
part of Persia, sometimes included in that of Mazan-
deran. It is bounded by the Caspian sea on the west,
by lofty mountains on the south, on the north by the
river Abhor, and extends to the 58th degree of longitude
on the east. It nearly coincides with the ancient Hyr-
cania, and is the native province of the present king
of Persia. It is a mountainous country, in some parts
fruitful, in others sandy and barren. Asterabad is the
chief town. E. Long. 54. N. Lat. 36. 50.
ASTERIA, in 7joology, a name by which some au¬
thors have called the falco palumbarius, or goshawk.
See Falco, Ornithology Index.
Asteria is also the name of a gem, usually called
the cat's eye, or oculus cati. It is a very singular and
very beautiful stone, and somewhat approaches to the
nature of the opal, in having a bright included colour,
which seems to be lodged deep in the body of the stone,
and shifts about, as it is moved, in various directions j
but it differs from the opal in all other particulars,
especially in its want of the great variety of colours
seen in that gem, and in its superior hardness. It is
usually found between the size of a pea and the breadth
of a sixpence } is almost always of a semicircular form,
broad and flat at the bottom, and rounded and convex
at the top ; and it is naturally smooth and polished. It
has only two colours, a pale brown and a white 5 the
brown seeming the ground, and the white playing about
in it, as the fire colour in the opal. It is considerably
hard, and will take a fine polish, but is usually worn
with its native shape and smoothness. It is found in
the East and West Indies, and in Europe. The island
of Borneo affords some very fine ones, but they are
usually small $ they are very common in the sands of
rivers in New Spain : and in Bohemia they are not un-
frequently found immersed in the same masses of jasper
with the opal.
Asteria is also the name of an extraneous fossil,
called in English the star-stone. The fossils are small,
short, angular, or sulcated columns, between one and
two inches long, and seldom above a third of an inch
in diameter: composed of several regular joints 5 when
separated, each resembles a radiated star. They are,
not without reason, supposed to be a part of some sea-
fish petrified, probably the asterias or sea-star. The aste¬
ria is also called astriies, astroites, and astenscvs. They
may be reduced to two kinds : those whose whole bo¬
dies make the form of a star ; and those which in the
whole are irregular, but are adorned as it were with
constellations in the parts. Hr Lister, for distinction’s
sake, onlv gives the name asteria to the former sort,
distinguishing the latter by the appellation of astroi¬
tes; other naturalists generally use the two indiscrimi¬
nately. The asteria spoken of by the ancients, appears
to be of this latter kind. The quality of moving in
vinegar, as if animated, is scarce perceivable in the
astroites, but is signal in the asteria. The former must
be broken in small pieces before it will move ; but the
latter will move, not only in a whole joint, but in two
i ] AST
or three knit together. The curious frequently meet Astena
with these stones in many parts of England : at Cley- 11
don in Oxfordshire they are found rather larger than ^attacaii.
common, but of a softer substance ; for, on being left a
small space of time in a strong acid, they may easily
be separated at the joints in small plates.
ASTERIAS, Star-fish, or Sea-star. See Hel¬
minthology Index.
Asterias, the ancient name of the bittern. See
Ardea, Ornithology Index.
ASTERISK, a mark in form of a star (*), placed
over a word or sentence, to refer the reader to the mar¬
gin, or elsewhere, for a quotation, explanation, or the
like.
ASTERIUS, or Asturius, a Roman consul, in 449.
W e have under his name, “ A Conference on the Old
and New Testament,” in Latin verse : in which each
strophe contains, in the first verse, an historical fact in
the Old Testament 5 and in the second, an application
of that fact to some point in the New.
ASTERN, a sea phrase, used to signify any thing
at some distance behind the ship 5 being the opposite
of Ahead, wdiich signifies the space before her. See
Ahead.
ASTEROPODIUM, a kind of extraneous fossil, of
the same substance with the asterise or star-stones, to
which they serve as a base. See Asteria and Star-
STONE.
ASTHMA. See Medicine Index.
ASTI, a city of Montferrat in Italy, seated on the
Tanara, and capital of the county of the same name.
It is a bishop’s see, and well fortified with strong walls
and deep ditches ) and is divided into the city, borough,
citadel, and castle, which contain altogether 22,000 in¬
habitants. There are a great many churches and con¬
vents, as well as other handsome buildings ; and its ter¬
ritory is well watered, beautiful, and fruitful. It was
repeatedly taken and retaken by the French and Au¬
strians during the late wars. E. Long. 8. 15. N. Lat.
44. 58- . .
ASTIGI, in Ancient Geography, a colony, and con-
ventus juridicus, of Bsetica, surnamed Augusta Firma,
situated on the Singulus, which falls into the Baetis j
called also Colonia Astigitana (Pliny) : Now Ecya,
midway between Seville and Cordova. W. Long. 50.
N. Lat. 37. 20.
ASTOMI, in anthropology, a people feigned with¬
out mouths. Pliny speaks of a nation of Astomi in
India, who lived only by the smell or effluvia of bodies
taken in bv the nose.
ASTORGA, a very ancient city of Spain, in the
kingdom of Leon, with a bishop’s see, is seated on the
river Tuerta, and well fortified both by art and nature.
It stands in a most agreeable plain, about 150 miles
north-west of Madrid. There are excellent trouts in
the river. W. Long. 6. 20. N. Lat. 42. 20.
ASTRACAN, a province of Russia, and the most
easterly part of Europe ; bounded on the north by Bul¬
garia and Baskiria ; on the south hy the Caspian sea ;
on the west, by the Volga, which divides it from the
Nagayan Tartars and Don Cossacks j and on the east,
by the great ridge of mountains which part it from
Great Tartary. The province extends from the 46th
to the 52d degree of latitude. The summer is long,
and intensely hot : the winter continues about three
months
AST [
A*tracan. months so severe, that the Volga Is frozen hard enough
l-—-v —to hear loaded sledges. The soil is rich and fertile ;
but the Tartars who inhabit it are strangers to agricul¬
ture. On the western and southern sides of the "Volga,
are heaths of a prodigious extent, sandy, desert, and
uncultivated •, these, however produce vast quantities
of fine transparent salt in pits, where the sun bakes and
incrustates it to the thickness of an inch on the surface
of the water. There are pits in the neighbourhood of
Astracan which yield this excellent salt in such abun¬
dance, that any person may carry it off, paying at the
rate of one farthing a poost, which is equal to forty
pounds. The metropolis, Astracan, is situated with¬
in the boundaries of Asia, on an island called Dolgoi,
about 60 English miles above the place where the Vol.
ga disembogues itself into the Caspian sea. The city
derives its name from Hadgee Tarkan, a Tartar, by
whom it was founded. It was conquered by Iwan Ba-
silowitz, recovered by the Tartars in the year 1668,
and retaken by the czar, who employed for this pur¬
pose a great number of flat-bottomed vessels, in which
he transported his forces down the Volga from Casan.
The city of Astracan is about two miles and a half
in circumference, surrounded by a brick wall, which
is now in a ruinous condition: but, if we comprehend
the suburbs, the circuit will lie near five miles. The
number of inhabitants amounts to 70,000, including
Armenians and Tartars, as well as a few Persians and
Indians. The garrison consists of six regiments of the
best Russian troops, who, when this place was alarm¬
ed from the side of Persia, had in the adjacent plain
erected a great number of small batteries, to scour the
fields, and obstruct the approach of the enemy. The
houses of Astracan are built of wood, and generally
mean and inconvenient. The higher parts of the.city
command a prospect of the Volga, which is here about
three miles in breadth, and exhibits a noble appear¬
ance. The marshy lands on the banks of it render the
place very sickly in the summer : the earth, being im¬
pregnated with salt, is extremely fertile, and produces
abundance of fruit, the immoderate use of which is at¬
tended with epidemical distempers. Sickness is like¬
wise the consequence of those annual changes in the
atmosphere produced by the floods in spring and au¬
tumn. All round the city of Astracan, at the distance
of two miles, are seen a great number of gardens, or¬
chards, and vineyards, producing all sorts of herbs
and roots. The grapes are counted so delicious, that
they are preserved, in sand, and transported to court bv
land-carriage at a prodigious expence: yet the wine of
Astracan is very indifferent. The summer being ge¬
nerally dry, the inhabitants water their gardens by
means of large wheels worked by wind or horses,
which raise the water to the highest part of the gai*-
den, from whence it runs in trenches to refresh the
roots of every single tree and plant. The neighbour¬
ing country produces hares and partridges, plenty of
quails in summer, with wild and water-fowl ©f all sorts
in abundance.
About ten miles below Astracan is a small island
called Bostnaise, on which are built large storehouses
for the salt, which is made about twelve miles to
the eastward, and, being brought thither in boats, is
conveyed up the Volga, in order to supply the coun¬
try as far as Moscow, and Twere. The quantity of
7 ] AST
salt annually dug for these purposes amounts to some Astrac
millions of pounds, the exclusive property of which is ’ r
claimed by the crown, and yields a considerable reve¬
nue 5 for the soldiers and bulk of the people live almost
entirely on bread and salt. I he neighbourhood of
these salt-works is of great advantage to the fisheries,
which extend from hence to the Caspian sea, and reach
to the south-east as far as Yack, and even ico miles
above Zaritzen. The principal fish here caught are
sturgeon and belluga. These, being salted, are put on
board of vessels, and sent away in the spring, for the
use of the whole empire, even as far as Petersburg: but
as fish may be kept fresh as long as it is frozen, the
winter is no sooner set in, than they transport great
quantities of it by land through ail the provinces of
Russia. Of the roes ot the fish called belluga, which
are white, transparent, and of an agieeable flavour, the
fishers here prepare the caviare, which is in so much
esteem all over Europe. These fisheries were first esta¬
blished by one Tikon Demedoff, a carrier, who settled
in this place about 60 years ago, his whole wealth con¬
sisting of two horses. By dint of skill and industry, he
soon grew the richest merchant in this country : but his
success became so alluring to the crown, that of late
years it hath engrossed some of the fisheries as well as
the salt works.
From the latter end of July to the beginning of Oc¬
tober, the country about Astracan is frequently infest¬
ed with myriads of locusts, which darken the air in then-
progression from the north to the southward; and,
wherever they fall, consume the whole verdure of the
earth. These insects can even live for some time un¬
der water: for when the wind blows across the Volga,
vast numbers of them fall in clusters, and are rolled
ashore ; and their wings are no sooner dry, than they
rise and take flight again.
Heretofore the inhabitants of Astracan traded to
Khuva and Bokhara ; but at present these branches are
lost, and their commerce is limited to Persia and the
dominions of Russia. Even the trade to Persia is much
diminished by the troubles of that country; neverthe¬
less, the commerce of Astracan is still considerable.
Some years ago, the city maintained about 40 vessels,
from 100 to 200 tons burden, for the Caspian traffic.
Some of these belong to the government, and are com¬
manded by a commodore, under the direction of the
admiralty. This office is generally well stocked with
naval stores, which are sold occasionally to the mer¬
chants. The trading ships convey provisions to the
frontier towns of Terkie and Kislar, situated on the
Caspian sea; and transport merchandise to several
parts of Persia. The merchants of Astracan export
to Persia, chiefly on account of the Armenians, red
leather, linens, woollen cloths, and other European ma¬
nufactures. fn return, they import the commodities
of Persia, particularly those manufactured at Casan ;
such as silk sashes intermixed with gold, for the use
of the Poles ; wrought silks and stuffs mixed with cot¬
ton ; rice, cotton, rhubarb, and a small quantity of
other drugs ; hut the chief commodity is raw silk. The
government has engrossed the article of rhubarb, the
greater part of which is brought into Russia by the
Tartars of Yakutski, bordering on the eastern Tartars
belonging to China. They travel through Siberia to
Samura, thence to Casan, and lastly to Moscow. The
revemu,
*
AST [8
AcHaeatt revenue of Astracan is computed at 150,000 rubles,
[} or 33,000!. arising chiefly from salt and fish. The
Astroguo- cjty js ruled by a governor, under the check ol a
, **• , chancery. He is nevertheless arbitrary enough, and
exercises oppression rvith impunity. The officers of
the admiralty and custom-house having very small sa¬
laries, are open to corruption, and extremely rapaci-
o’js. At christening feasts, which are attended with
great intemperance, the guests drink a kind of cherry-
brandy out of large goblets; and every person invited
throws a present of money into the bed of the mother,
who sits up with great formality to be saluted by the
company.
The Indians have a Pagan temple at Astracan, in
which they pay their adoration, and make offerings of
fruit to a very ugly deformed idol. The priests of this
pagod use incense, beads, cups, and prostrations. The
Tartars, on the contrary, hold idol-worship in the ut¬
most abomination.
ASTRiEA, in Astronomy, a name which some give
to the sign Virgo, by others called Erigone, and some¬
times Isis. The poets feign that Justice quitted heaven
t-o reside on earth, in the golden age ; but, growing
weary of the iniquities of mankind, she left the earth,
and returned to heaven, where she commenced a con¬
stellation of stars, and from her orb still looks down on
the ways of men.
ASTRAGAL, in Architecture, a little round mould¬
ing, which in the orders surrounds the top of the shaft
or body of the column. It is also called the talon and
tondino ; it is used at the bottoms as well as tops of co¬
lumns, and on other occasions : it properly represents a
ring, on whatever part of a column it is placed ; and
the original idea of it was that of a circle of iron put
round the trunk of a tree, used to support an edifice, to
prevent its splitting. The astragal is often cut into
beads and berries, and is used in the ornamented en¬
tablatures to separate the several faces of the archi¬
trave.
Astragal, in Gunnery, a round moulding encom¬
passing a cannon, about half a foot from its mouth.
ASTRAGALOMANCY, a species of divination
performed by throwing small pieces, with marks cor¬
responding to the letters of the alphabet; the accidental
disposition of which formed the answer required. This
kind of divination was practised in a temple of Hercules,
in Achaia. The word is derived from and
pciVTUct, divination.
ASTRAGALUS, Milk-vetch, or Liquorice-
vetch. See Botany Index.
Astragalus. See Anatomy index.
ASTRANTIA, Masterwort. See Botany In-
^ ASTRICTION, in Law. See Thirlage.
Astriction, among physicians, denotes the opera¬
tion of astringent medicines.
ASTRINGENTS, in the Materia Medico, sub¬
stances distinguished by a rough austere taste, and chan¬
ging solutions of iron, especially those made in the vi¬
triolic acid, into a dark purple or black colour ; such
are galls, tormentil root, bistort root, balaustines, ter¬
ra japonica, acacia, &c. See Materia Medica In¬
dex.
ASTROGNOSIA, the science of the fixed stars,
] AST
or the knowledge of their names, constellations, magnl- Astregaa-
tudes, &c. s**
ASTROITES, or Star-stone, in Natural History. . ^
See Asteria and STAR-STONE. t
ASTROLABE, the name for a stereographic pro¬
jection of the sphere, either upon the plane of the equa¬
tor, the eye being supposed to be in the pole of the
world ; or upon the plane of the meridian, when tba
eye is supposed in the point of the intersection of the
equinoctial and horizon.
Astrolabe is also the name of an instrument for¬
merly used for taking the altitude of the sun or stars
at sea.
Astrolabe, among the ancients, was the same as
our armillary sphere.
ASTROLOGY, a conjectural science, which teach¬
es to judge of the effects and influences of the stars, and
to foretel future events by the situation and different as¬
pects of the heavenly bodies.
This science has been divided into two branches, na¬
tural a\\A judiciary. To the former belongs the pre¬
dicting of natural effects ; as, the changes of weather,
winds, storms, hurricanes, thunder, floods, earthquakes,
&c. This art properly belongs to natural philosophy;
and is only to be deduced, a posteriori, from phenomena
and observations. Judiciary or judicial astrology, is
that which pretends to foretel moral events; i. e. such
as have a dependency on the free will and agency of
man ; as if they were directed by the stars. This art,
which owed its origin to the practices of knavery on
credulity, is now universally exploded by the intelligent
part of mankind.
The professors of this kind of astrology maintain,
“ That the heavens are one great volume or book,
wherein God has written the history of the world; and
in which every man may read his own fortune, and the
transactions of his time. The art, say they, had its rise
from the same hands as astronomy itself: while the
ancient Assyrians, whose serene unclouded sky favour¬
ed their celestial observations, were intent on tracing
the paths and periods of the heavenly bodies, they dis¬
covered a constant settled relation or analogy between
them and things below ; and hence were led to con¬
clude these to be the Parcte, the Destinies, so much
talked of, which preside at our births, and dispose of
our future fate.
“ The laws, therefore, of this relation being ascer¬
tained by a series of observations, and the share each
planet has therein; by knowing the precise time of any
person’s nativity, they were enabled, from their know¬
ledge in astronomy, to erect a scheme or horoscope of
the situation of the planets at this point oi time ; and,
hence, by considering their degrees of power and in¬
fluence, and how each was either strengthened or tem¬
pered by some other, to compute what must be the re¬
sult thereof.”
Thus the astrologers.—But the chief province now
remaining to the modern professors, is the making of
calendars or almanacks.
Judicial astrology is commonly said to have been
invented in Chaldea, and thence transmitted to the
Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans; though some will
have it of Egyptian origin, and ascribe the invention to
Cham. But it is to the Arabs that we owe it. At Rome
the
A S ' T [
Astrology, the people were so infatuated with it, that the astrolo-
u-—-_v gers, or, as they were then called, the mathematicians,
maintained their ground in spite of all the edicts of
the emperors to expel them out of the city. See Ge-
NETHLIACI.
Add, that the Bramins, who introduced and practi¬
sed this art among the Indians, have thereby made them¬
selves the arbiters of good and evil hours, which gives
them great authority : they are consulted as oracles,
and they have taken care never to sell their answers
but at good rates.
The same superstition has prevailed in more modern
ages and nations. The French historians remark, that
in the time of Queen Catherine de Medicis, astrology
was so much in vogue, that the most inconsiderable
thing was not to be done without consulting the stars.
And in the reigns of King Henry III. and IV. of
France, the predictions of astrologers were the com-
9 ] ^ AST
mon theme-of the court conversation. This predomi- Astrology
nant humour in that court was well rallied by Barclay, U
in his Argems, lib. ii. on occasion of an astrologer, who Astroncmi-
had undertaken to instruct King Henry in the event 0fCi- • ,,i-
a war then threatened by the faction of the Guises.
ASTRONIUM. See Botany Index.
ASTRONOMICAL, something relating to A-
STRONOMY.
Astronomical Calendar, an instrument engraven on
copperplates, printed on paper, and pasted on a board,
with a brass slider carrying a hair: it shows by inspec¬
tion the sun’s meridian altitude, right ascension, decli¬
nation, rising, setting, amplitude, &c. to a greater de¬
gree of exactness than the common globes.
Astronomical Sector, a very useful mathematical
instrument, made, by the late ingenious Mr Graham 5
a description of which is given in the course of the
following article.
ASTRONOMY.
A STRONOMY is that science which treats of the
motions of the heavenly bodies, and explains the
laws by which these motions are regulated.
It is the most sublime and the most perfect of all the
sciences. No subject has been longer studied, or has
made greater progress. There is a vast interval be¬
tween the rude observations of the earlier astronomers,
and the precision and general views which direct our
present observers. To ascertain the apparent motions
of the heavenly bodies was a difficult task, and requi¬
red the united observations of ages. To unravel these
intricate mazes, and detect and demonstrate the real
motions, demanded the most patient perseverance,
judgment, and dexterity. To ascertain the laws of
these motions, and to resolve the whole of them in¬
to one general fact, required the exertions of a sagaci¬
ty scarcely to be expected in human nature. Yet all
this has been accomplished; and even the most minute
movement of the heavenly bodies has been shewn to
depend upon the same general law with all the rest,
and even to be a consequence of that law. Astrono¬
my, therefore, is highly interesting, were it only be¬
cause it exhibits the finest instance of the length that
the reasoning faculties can go. It is the triumph of
philosophy and of human nature. But this is not all.
It has conferred upon mankind the greatest benefits,
and may truly be considered as the grand improver and
conductor of navigation.
The following treatise will be divided into four parts.
In the first part, we shall give a sketch of the history
of astronomy j in the second, w'e shall treat of the appa¬
rent motions of the heavenly bodies ; in the third, of
their real motions ; and in the fourth, of gravitation, or
of that general fact to which all their motions may be
referred, and from which they proceed.
PART I. HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.
, Ibstory. THE antiquity of this science may be gathered from
v~” "* what was spoken by the Deity at the time of creating
the celestial luminaries, “ Let them be for signs and
seasons,” &c. whence it is thought probable that the
human race never existed without some knowledge of
astronomy among them. Indeed, besides the motives
of mere curiosity, which of themselves maybe supposed
to have excited people to a contemplation of the glori¬
ous celestial canopy, as far as that was possible, it is
easily to be seen that some parts of the science answer
such essential purposes to mankind, that they could not
t possibly be dispensed with.
Astronomy By some of the Jewish rabbins, Adam, in his state
supposed to of innocence, is supposed to have been endowed with a
KtT jcnow!edSe °!’ the nature, influence, and uses of the
Idam and bodies 5 and Josephus ascribes to Seth and his
be Antedi- posterity an extensive knowledge of astronomy. But
umns. whatever may be in this, the long lives of theAntedi-
Vol. HI. Part I. ±
luvians certainly afforded such an excellent opportunity H;sto
for observing the celestial bodies, that we cannot but ■
suppose the science of astronomy to have been consider¬
ably advanced before the flood. Josephus says, that
longevity was bestowed upon them for the very purpose
of improving the sciences of geometry and astronomy.
The latter could not be learned in less than 600 years:
“for that period (says he) is the grand year. ” By
which it is supposed he meant the period wherein the.
sun and moon came again into the same situation as
they were in the beginning thereof, with regard to the
nodes, apogee of the moon, &c. “ This period (says
Cassini), whereof we find no intimation in any monu¬
ment of any other nation, is the finest period that ever
was invented : for it brings out the solar year more
exactly than that of Hipparchus and Ptolemy ; and
the lunar month within about one second of what is
determined by modern astronomers. If the Antedilu-
B vians
ASTRONOMY.
Part I.
vians had such a period of 6oo years, they must have
known the motion of the sun and moon more exactly
than their descendants knew them some ages after the
2 flood.”
Asironomi- On the building of the tower of Babel, Noah is sup-
cal know- p0se(l to have retired with his children born after the
ledge ofthefl00(j^ to t|ie north-easteru part of Asia, where his de-
Chmese. scen(jants peopled the vast empire of China. “ This
(says Dr Long) may perhaps account for the Chinese
having so early cultivated the study of astronomy ;
their being so well settled in an admirable police, and
continuing so many hundred years as they did in the
worship of the true God.” The vanity of that people
indeed has prompted them to pretend a knowledge of
astronomy almost as early as the flood itself. Some oi
the Jesuit missionaries have found traditional accounts
among the Chinese, of their having been taught this
science by their first emperor Fo-hi, supposed to be Noah;
andKempfer informs us, that this personage discovered
the motions of the heavens, divided time into years
and months, and invented the twelve signs into which
they divide the zodiac, which they distinguish by the
following names. I. The mouse. 2. The ox or cow.
3. The tiger. 4. The hare. 5. The dragon. 6. The
7. The horse. 8; The sheep. 9. The monkey.
10. The cock or hen. 11. The dog-, and, 12. The
bear. They divide the heavens into 28 constellations,
four of which are assigned to each of the seven planets-,
so that the year always begins with the same planet;
and their constellations answer to the 28 mansions of
the moon used by the Arabian astronomers. These
constellations, in the Chinese books of astronomy, are
not marked by the figures of animals, as was in use
among the Greeks, and from them derived to the
other European nations, but by connecting the stars
by straight lines ; and Dr Long informs us, that in a
Chinese book in thin 4to, shown him by Lord Pem¬
broke, the stars were represented by small circles joined
by lines; so that the Great Bear would be marked thus,
.3
Their
names for
the signs of g nt>
the zodiac. rnp.
To the emperor Hong-ti, the grandson of Noah,
they attribute the discovery of the pole-star, the inven¬
tion of the mariner’s compass, of a period of 60 years,
and some kind of sphere. rlhis extraordinary antiqui¬
ty, however, is with good reason suspected, a,s is like¬
wise their knowledge in the calculation of eclipses ; of
which Du Halde assures us, that 36 are recorded by
Confucius himself, who lived 551 years before Christ ;
and P. Trigault, who went to China in 1619, and read
more than 100 volumes of their annals, says, “ It is
certain that the Chinese began to make astronomical
observations soon after the flood ; that they have ob¬
served a great number of eclipses, in which they have
noted down the hour, day, month, and year, when they
happened, but neither the duration nor the quantity ;
and that these eclipses have been made use of for re¬
gulating their chronology.”
“ But out of this abundance (says Dr Long), it is
much to be regretted, that so very few of their obser¬
vations have been particularized ; for beside what has
been mentioned above, we meet with no very ancient
observations of the Chinese, except a winter solstice in
3:
the year mi, and a summer solstice in the year 882, History
before Christ. Martini indeed speaks of a summer sol- 'V—
slice 2342 years before that period. But M. Cassini,
who calculated it, found that there must have been an
error in the Chinese computation of 500 years at least.
An error of equal magnitude appears to have been
committed in the conjunction of the five planets, which
it is pretended they observed between the years 2513
and 2435 before Christ. In short, some have suppo¬
sed, that none of these are real observations, but the
result of bungling calculations ; and it has been hinted,
but surely on too slight a foundation, that even those
good fathers themselves were greatly to be suspected.
But let us come to things which are not contested.
“ P. Gaubil informs us, that at least 120 years before
Christ, the Chinese had determined by observation the
number and extent of their constellations as they now
stand ; the situation of the fixed stars with respect
to the equinoctial and solstitial points ; and the ob¬
liquity of the ecliptic. He farther says, he cannot tell
by what means it is that they foretel eclipses : but this
is certain, that the theory by which they do predict
them was settled about the same time; and that they
were acquainted with the true length of the solar year,
the method of observing meridian altitudes of the sun
by the shadow of a gnomon, and of learning from
thence his declination and the height of the pole, long
before. We learn, moreover, from the same missiona¬
ry, that there are yet remaining among them some
treatises of astronomy, which were written about 200
years before Christ, from which it appears, that the
Chinese bad known the daily motion of the sun and
moon, and the times of the revolutions of the planets,
many years before that period.
“ We are informed by Du Halde, that, in the pro¬
vince of Honan, and city Jeng-foang, which is nearly^
in the middle of China, there is a tower, on the top of
which it is said that Tchcou-cong, the most skilful astro¬
nomer that ever China produced, made his observations.
He lived 1200 years before Ptolemy, or more than
1000 years before Christ, and passed whole nights in
observing the celestial bodies and arranging them into
constellations. He used a very large brass table placed
perfectly horizontal, on which was fixed a long upright
plate of the same metal, both of which were divided
into degrees, &c. By these he marked the meridian al¬
titudes ; and from thence derived the times of the sol¬
stices, which were their principal epoefia.”
Dr Long represents the state of astronomy in China
as at present very low ; occasioned, he says, prin¬
cipally by the barbarous decree of one of their em-
perors*, to have all the. books in the empire burnt,' SeeC*j|T'
excepting such as related to agriculture and medicine.
We are informed, however, by the Abbe Grosier, in
his description of China, that astronomy is cultivated
in Pekin in the same manner as in most of the capital
cities of Europe. A particular tribunal is established
there, the jurisdiction of which extends to every thing
relating to the observation of celestial phenomena.
Its members are, an inspector; two presidents, one of
them a Tartar and the other a Chinese ; and a certain
number of mandarins who perform the duty of asses¬
sors ; but for near a century and a half the place of
the Chinese president has been filled by an European.
Since that time particular attention has been paid to
the
ASTRONOMY,
I. Part 1.
History, the instruction of the astronomical pupils $ and the pre-
«. y———• sidents have always considered it as their duty to make
them acquainted with the system and method of cal¬
culations made use of in Europe. Thus two-thirds of
the astronomical pupils, maintained at the emperor’s
expence, in all about 200, have a tolerable notion of
the state of the heavens, and understand calculation so
well as to be able to compose ephemerides of sufficient
exactness. The missionaries have never been the au¬
thors of any of these ephemerides : their employment
is to revise the labours of the Chinese mathematicians,
verify their calculations, and correct any errors into
which they have fallen. The Portuguese mission still
continues to furnish astronomers for the academy, as it
did at the first.
The astronomical tribunal is subordinate to that of
ceremonies. When an eclipse is to be observed, in¬
formation must be given to the emperor of the day and
hour, the part of the heavens where it will be, &c. and
this intelligence must be communicated some months
before it happens j the eclipse must also be calculated
for the longitude and latitude of the capital city of
every province of the empire. These observations, as
well as the diagram which represents the eclipse, are
preserved by the tribunal of ceremonies, and another
called the calao, by whom it is transmitted to the dif¬
ferent provinces and cities of the empire. Some days
before the eclipse, the tribunal of ceremonies causes to
be fixed upon a public place, in large characters, the
hour and minute when the eclipse will commence, the
quarter of the heavens in which it will be visible, with
the other particulars relating to it. The mandarins are
summoned to appear in state at the tribunal of astrono¬
my, and to wait there for the moment in which the
phenomenon will take place. Each of them carries in
his hand a sheet of paper, containing a figure of the
eclipse and every circumstance attending in. As soon
as the observation begins to take place, they throw
themselves on their kness, and knock their heads against
the earth, and a horrid noise of drums and cymbals im¬
mediately commences throughout the whole city : a
ceremony proceeding from an ancient superstitious no¬
tion, that by such a noise they prevented the luminary
from being devoured by the celestial dragon $ and
though this notion is now exploded in China, as well
as everywhere else, such is the attachment of the people
to ancient customs, that the ceremonial is still observed.
W hile the mandarins thus remain prostrated in the
court, others, stationed on the observatory, examine,
with all the attention possible, the beginning, middle,
and end of the eclipse, comparing what they observe
^1 with the figure and calculations given. They then
write down their observations, affix their seal to them,
and transmit them to the emperor •, who, on his part, has
been no less assiduous to observe the eclipse with accu¬
racy. A ceremonial of this kind is observed through
the whole empire.
The Japanese, Siamese, and inhabitants of the Mo¬
gul’s empire, have also, from time immemorial, been ac¬
quainted with astronomy ; and the celebrated observa¬
tory at Benares, is a monument both of the ingenuity
of the people and of their skill in the science.
Indian Bailty has been at great pains to investigate the
astronomy, progress ot the Indians in astronomical knowledge,
and gives a splendid account of their proficiency in the
science, as well as of the antiquity of their observa- History,
tions. He has examined and compared four different lv‘—v—
astronomical tables of the Indian philosophers, i. Of
the Siamese, explained by M. Cassini in 1689. 2. Those
brought from India by M. le Gentil of the Academy
of Sciences. 3. and 4. Two other manuscript tables
found among the papers of the late M. de Lisle. All
of these tables have different epochs, and differ in
form, being also constructed in different ways \ yet
they all evidently belong to the same astronomical sy¬
stem : the motions attributed to the sun and the moon
are the same, and the different epochs are so well con¬
nected by the mean motions, as to demonstrate that
they had only one, whence the others were derived by
calculation. The meridians are all referred to that of
Benares above mentioned. The fundamental epoch of
the Indian astronomy is a conjunction of the sun and
moon, which took place at no less a distance of time
that 3102 years before the Christian era. Mr Bailly
informs us, that, according to our most accurate astro¬
nomical tables, a conjunction of the sun and moon ac¬
tually did happen at that time. But though the bra-
mins pretend to have ascertained the places of the two
luminaries at that time, it is impossible for us at this
time to judge of the truth of their assertions, by rea¬
son of the unequal motion of the moon ; which, as
shall afterwards be more particularly taken notice of,
now performs its revolution in a shorter time than for¬
merly.
Our author informs us, that the Indians at present cal¬
culate eclipses by the mean motions of the sun and moon
observed 5000 years ago j and with regard to the solar
motion, their accuracy far exceeds that of the best Gre¬
cian astronomers. The lunar motions they bad also
settled, by computing the spaces through which that lu¬
minary bad passed in 1,600,984 days, or somewhat
more than 4383 years. They also make use of the
cycle of 19 years attributed by the Greeks to Metonj
and their theory of the planets is much better than
that of Ptolemy, as they do not suppose the earth to be
the centre of the celestial motions, and they believe that
Mercury and Venus turn round the sun. Mr Bailly
also informs us, that their astronomy agrees with the
most modern discoveries of the decrease of the obliquity
of the ecliptic, the acceleration of the motion of the e-
quinoctial points, with many other particulars too tedi¬
ous to enumerate in this place. ^
It appears also, that even the Americans were not Astronomy
unacquainted with astronomy, though they made useoftlieA_
only of the solar, and not of the lunar motions, in their raer*cails'
division of time. The Mexicans have had a strange
predilection for the number 13. Their shortest pe¬
riods consisted of 13 days ; their cycle of 13 months,
each containing 20 days ; and their century of four
periods of 13 years each. This excessive veneration
for the number 13, according to Siguenza, arose from
its being supposed the number of their greater gods.
What is very surprising, though asserted as a fact by
Abbe Clavigero, is that having discovered the excess of
a few hours in the solar above the civil year, they
made use of intercalary days, to bring them to an equa¬
lity : but with this difference in regard to the method
established by Julius Caesar in the Roman calendar,
that they did not interpose a dav every four years, but
13 days (making use even here of this favourite nuni-
B 2 her)
i2 ASTRO
History, ber) every 52 years, which produces the same regula-
' v—-- tion of time.
Among those nations who first began to make any
Chaldeans figure in oncient liistory, we find the Chaldeans and
and Egyp- Egyptians most remarkable for their astronomical
tiaiiii. knowledge. Both of them pretended to an extravagant
antiquity, and disputed the honour of having been the
first cultivators of the science. The Chaldeans boast¬
ed of their temple of Belus •, and of Zoroaster, whom
they placed 5000 years before the destruction of Troy :
the Egyptians boasted of their colleges of priests, where
astronomy was taught j and of the monument of Osy-
niandyas, in which we are told was a golden circle 365
cubits in circumference and one cubit thick. The ujr-
per face was divided into 365 equal parts, answering
to the days of the year ; and on every division were
written the name of the day, and the heliacal rising of
the several stars for that day, with the prognostications
from their rising, principally, as Long conjectures, for
the weather.
The Chaldeans certainly began to make observa¬
tions very soon after the confusion of languages j for
when Alexander the Great took Babylon, Calisthenes,
by his order, inquired after the astronomical observa¬
tions recorded in that city, and obtained them for
1903 years back. Nothing, however, now remains
of the Chaldean astronomy, excepting some periods of
years which they had formed for the more ready com¬
putation of the heavenly bodies. But though they
must have laboured under great disadvantages for
want of proper instruments, in those early ages, Ge-
mina, as quoted by Petarius in his Uranologion, in¬
forms us, that they had determined, with tolerable
exactness, the length both of a synodical and periodi¬
cal month. They had also discovered that the mo¬
tion of the moon was not uniform, and even attempt¬
ed to assign those parts of her orbit in which it was
quicker or slower. Ptolemy also assures us, that they
were not unacquainted with the motion of the moon’s
nodes and that of her apogee, supposing that the for¬
mer made a complete revolution in 6585^ days, or
18 years 15 days and 8 hours j which period, con¬
taining 223 complete lunations, is called the Chal¬
dean Sciros. The same author also gives us, from
Hipparchus, several observations of lunar eclipses
which had been made at Babylon about 720 years be¬
fore Christ; but though he might very probably meet
with many of a more ancient date, it was impossible
to mention them particularly, on account of the im¬
perfect state of the Chaldean chronology, which com¬
menced only with the era of Nabonassar, 747 years be¬
fore Christ. Aristotle likewise informs us, that they
had many observations of the occultations of fixed
stars and planets by the moon ; and from hence, by a
very natural and easy inference, they were led to con¬
clude that the eclipses of the sun were occasioned also
by the moon, especially as they constantly happened
when the latter was in the same part of the heavens
with the sun. They had also a considerable share in
arranging the stars into constellations. Nor had the
comets, by which astronomers in all ages have been so
much perplexed, escaped their observation : for both
Diodorus Siculus and Appollinus Myndius, in Seneca,
inform us, that many of the Chaldeans held these to
be lasting bodies, which have stated revolutions as
N O M Y. Part I.
well as the planets, but in orbits vastly more extensive ; History,
on which account they are only seen by us while near —y—»
the earth, but disappear again when they go into the
higher regions. Others of them were of opinion, that
the comets were only meteors raised very high in the
air, which blaze for a while, and disappear when the
matter of which they consist is consumed or dispersed.
Dialling was also known among them long before the
Greeks were acquainted with any such thing.
It is evident, indeed, that the countries both of
Chaldea and Egypt were exceedingly proper for astro¬
nomical observations, on account of the general puri¬
ty and serenity of the air. The tower or temple of
Belus, which was of an extraordinary height, with
stairs winding round it up to the top, is supposed
to have been an astronomical observatory; and the
lofty pyramids of Egypt, whatever they were ori¬
ginally designed for, might possibly answer the same
purpose. Indeed these very ancient monuments show
the skill of this people in practical astronomy, as
they are all situated with their four fronts exactly
facing the cardinal points. Herodotus ascribes the
Egyptian knowledge in astronomy to Sesostris, whom
Sir Isaac Newton makes contemporary with Solo¬
mon ; but if this was the case, he could not be tit©
instructor of the Egyptians in astronomical mat¬
ters, since we find that Moses, who lived 500 years
before Solomon, was skilled in all the wisdom of the
Egyptians, in which we are undoubtedly to include
astronomy.
From the testimony of some ancient authors, we learn
that they believed the earth to be spherical, that they
knew the moon was eclipsed by falling into its shadow,
and that they made their observations with the greatest
exactness. They even pretended to foretel the appear¬
ance of comets, as well as earthquakes and inundationsy
which extraordinary knowledge is likewise ascribed to
the Chaldeans. They attempted to measure the mag¬
nitude of the earth and sun ; but the methods they took
to find out the latter were very erroneous. It does not
indeed appear with certainty that they had any know¬
ledge of the true system of the universe ; and by the time
of the emperor Augustus, their astronomical knowledge
was entirely lost. ^
From Chaldea the science of astronomy most probably Of the Ph<
passed into Phenicia ; though some are of opinion that iiician*.
the Phenicians derived their knowledge of this science
from the Egyptians. They seem, however, to have been
the first who applied astronomy to the purposes of navi¬
gation ; by which they became masters of the sea, and
of almost all the commerce in the world. They became
adventurous in their voyages, steering their ships by one
of the stars of the Little Bear ; which being near the
immoveable point of the heavens called the Pole, is the
most proper guide in navigation. Other nations made
their observations by the Great Bear : which being too
distant from the pole could not guide them in long voy¬
ages ; and for this reason they never durst venture far
from the coasts. 8
The first origin of astronomical knowledge amongAsironos*
the Greeks is unknown. Sir Isaac Newton supposes^^
that most of the constellations were invented about
the time of the Argonautic expedition : but Dr Long
is of opinion that many of them must have been of a
much older date; and that the shepherds, who were
certainly
Part I. ASTRONOMY.
History, certainly tlie first observers, gave names to them ac-
-y—' cording to their fancy ; from whence the poets invent¬
ed many of their fables. Several of the constellations
are mentioned by Hesiod and Homer, the two most
ancient writers among the Greeks, who lived about
870 years before Christ: Hesiod desiring the farmer
to regulate the time of sowing and harvest by tbe ri¬
sing and setting of the Pleiades ; and Homer inform¬
ing ns, that observations from tbe Pleiades, Orion, and
Arcturus, rvere used in navigation. Their astronomi¬
cal knowledge, however, was greatly improved by
Improved ^ia^es the Milesian, who travelled into Egypt, and
by Thales, brought from thence the first principles of the science.
He is said to have determined the height of the pyra¬
mids by measuring their shadows at the time the sun
was 45 degrees high, and when of consequence the
lengths of the shadows of objects are equal to their
perpendicular heights. But his reputation was raised
to the highest pitch among his countrymen, by the
prediction of an eclipse, which happened just at the
time that the armies of Alyattes king of Lydia, and
Cyaxares the Mede, were about to engage } and being
regarded as an evil omen by both parties, inclined them
to peace. To him Callimachus attributes the form¬
ing of the constellation of the Little Bear j the know¬
ledge of which he certainly introduced into Greece.
He also taught the true length of the year 5 determined
the cosmical setting of the Pleiades in his time to have
been 25 days after the autumnal equinox j divided the
earth into five zones by means of the polar circles and
tropics ; taught the obliquity of the ecliptic ; and show¬
ed that the equinoctial is cut by the meridians at right
angles, all of which intersect each other at the poles.
He is also said to have observed the exact time of the
solstices, and from thence to have deduced the true
length of the solar year ; to have observed eclipses of
the sun and moon 5 and to have taught that the moon
had no light but what she borrowed from the sun.
According to Stanley, he also determined the diameter
of the sun to be one-720th part of his annual orbit.
“ But (says Dr Long) these things should be received
with caution. There are some reasons which might be
assigned for supposing that the knowledge of Thales in
these matters was much more circumscribed: and indeed
it is not unreasonable to suppose, that that veneration for
the ancients which leads authors to write professedly on
the history of ancient times, may have induced them
to ascribe full as much knowledge to those who lived
in them as was really their due.”
ro 1 he successors of Thales, Anaximander, Anaxime-
manderU neS’ aru^ Anaxagoras, contributed considerably to the
&c. ' advancement of astronomy. The first is said to have
invented or introduced the gnomon into Greece $ to
have observed the obliquity of the ecliptic j and taught
that the earth was spherical, and the centre of the
universe, and that the sun was not less than it. He
is also said to have made the first globe, and to have
set up a sun-dial at Lacedemon, which is the first we
hear of among the Greeks 5 though some are of opini¬
on that these pieces of knowledge were brought from
Babylon by Pherycides, a contemporary of Anaximan¬
der. Anaxagoras also predicted an eclipse which hap¬
pened in the filth year of the Peloponnesian war ; and
taught that the moon was habitable, consisting of hills,
valleys, and waters, like the earth. His contemporary^
Pythagoras, however, greatly improved not only astro- History,
nomy and mathematics, but every other branch of phi- 1——v——
losophy. He taught that the universe was composed 1 r.
of four elements, and that it had the sun in the centre}
that the earth was round, and had antipodes; and thatg0rag)
the moon reflected the rays of the sun ; that the stars"
were worlds, containing earth, air, and ether ; that the
moon was inhabited like the earth ; and that the comets
were a kind of wandering stars, disappearing in the
superior parts of their orbits, and becoming visible on¬
ly in the lower parts of them. The white colour of
the milky-way he ascribed to the brightness of a great
number of small stars ; and he supposed th& distances
-of the moon and planets from the earth to be in certain
harmonic proportions to one another. He is said also to
have exhibited the oblique course of the sun in the eclip¬
tic and the tropical circles, by means of an artificial
sphere; and he first taught that the planet Venus is both
the evening and morning star. This philosopher is said
to have been taken prisoner by Cambyses, and thus to
have become acquainted with all the mysteries of tire
Persian magi ; after which he settled at Crotona in Ita¬
ly, and founded the Italian sect.
About 440 years before the Christian era, Philolaus,
a celebrated Pythagorean, asserted the annual motion
of the earth round the sun ; and soon after Hicetas, a
Syracusan, taught its diurnal motion on its own axil.
About this time also flourished Melon and Euctemon
at Athens, who took an exact observation of the sum¬
mer solstice 432 years before Christ; which is the oldest
observation of the kind we have, excepting what is
delivered by the Chinese. Melon is said to have com¬
posed a cycle of 19 years, which still bears his name ;
and he marked the risings and settings of the stars, and
what seasons they pointed out ; in all which he was as¬
sisted by his companion Euctemon. The science, how¬
ever, was obscured by Plato and Aristotle, who em¬
braced the system afterwards called the Ptolemaicy which
places the earth in the centre of the universe.
Eudoxus the Cnidian was a contemporary with A-
ristotle, though considerably older, and is greatly ce¬
lebrated on account of his skill in astronomy. Pie was
the first who introduced geometry into the science, and
he is supposed to be the inventor of many propositions
attributed to Euclid. Having travelled into Egypt
in the earlier part of his life, and obtained a recom¬
mendation from Agesilaus to Nectanebus king of Egypt,
he, by his means, got access to the priests, who had
the knowledge of astronomy entirely among them,
after which he taught in Asia and Italy. Seneca tells
us that he brought the knowledge of the planetary mo¬
tions from Egypt into Greece ; and Archimedes, that
he believed the diameter of the sun to be nine times
that of the moon. He was also well acquainted with
the method of drawing a sun-dial upon a plane; from
whence it may be inferred that he understood the doc¬
trine of the projection of the sphere : yet, notwithstand¬
ing what has been said concerning the observations of
Eudoxus, it is not certain that his sphere was not taken
from one much more ancient, ascribed to Chiron the
Centaur. The reason given for this supposition is,
that had the places of the stars been taken from his
own observations, the constellations must have been half
a sign farther advanced than they are said to be in his
writings.
S00& f
14
ASTRONOMY.
Part t
History.
Soon after Eudoxus, Calippus flourished, whose sy-
-y—. stem of the celestial sphere is mentioned by Aristotle $
but he is better known from a period ot 76 years, con¬
taining four cori’ected metonic periods, and winch had
its beginning at the summer solstice in the year 330
before Christ. But about this time, or rather earlier,
the Greeks having begun to plant colonies in Italy,
Gaul, and Egypt, these became acquainted with the
Pythagorean system, and the notions ol the ancient
Druids concerning astronomy. Julius Caesar informs
us, that the latter wex-e skilled in this science ; and
that the Gauls in general were able sailors, which at
that time ‘they could not be without a competent
knowledge of astronomy : and it is related of Pythoas,
who lived at Marseilles in the time of Alexander the
Great, that he observed the altitude of the sun at the
summer solstice by means of a gnomon. He is also
said to have travelled as far as Thule to settle the cli-
12 mates.
State of as- After the death of Alexander the Great, science
Ervpt'after flourished in Egypt more than in any other part of the
the death of world 5 and a famous school was set up at Alexandria
Alexander, under the auspices of Ptolemy Philadelphus, a prince
instructed in all kinds of learning, and the patron of
all those who cultivated them ; and this school conti¬
nued to be the seminary of all kinds of literature, till
the invasion of the Saracens in 650. Timocharis and
Arystillus, who first cultivated the astronomical science
in this school, began to put it on a new footings being
much more careful in their observations, and exact in
noting down the times when they were made, than
their predecessors. Ptolemy assures us, that Hippar¬
chus made use of their observations, by means of
which he discovered that the stars had a motion in
longitude of about one degree in an hundred years 5
and he cites many of their observations, the oldest ot
which is before the erection of this school, in the yfear
295, when the moon just touched the northern star
in the forehead of the Scorpion j and the last of them
was in the 13th year of Philadelphus, when Venus
hid the former star of the four in the left wing of
Virgo.
From this time the science of astronomy continued
greatly to advance. Aristarchus, who lived about 270
years before Christ, strenuously asserted the Pythago¬
rean system, and gave a method of determining the di¬
stance of the sun by the moon’s dichotomy. Eratos¬
thenes, born at Cyrene in 271 B. C. determined the
measure of a great circle of the earth by means of a
gnomon. His reputation was so great, that he was
invited from Athens to Alexandria by Ptolemy Euer-
getes, and made by him keeper of the royal library at
that place. At his instigation the same prince set up
those armillas or spheres, which Hipparchus and Pto¬
lemy the astronomer afterwards employed so successful¬
ly in observing the heavens. He also found the distance
between the "tropics to be eleven such parts as the
whole meridian contains eighty-three. About the same
time Berosus a native of Chaldea, flourished at A-
thens. He is by some said to have brought many ob¬
servations from Babylon, which are ascribed to the
13 Greeks j while others contend, that the latter owe
Discoveries JJjtle or nothing of their astronomical knowledge to
of Archi- Babylonians. The celebrated Archimedes, who
meaes. to Sir j£aac ]sjewton holds the first place among
mathematicians, was nothing inferior as an astronomer History,
to what he was as a geometrician. He determined-y—
the distance of the moon from the earth, of Mercury
from the moon, of Venus from Mercury, of the sun
from Venus, of Mars from the sun, of Jupiter from
Mars, and of Saturn from Jupiter j as likewise the di¬
stance of the fixed stars from the orbit of Saturn. That
he made astronomical observations, is not to be doubt¬
ed j and it appears from an epigram of the poet Clau-
dian, that he invented a kind of planetarium, or orrery,
to represent the phenomena and motions of the heavenly
bodies. 14
Hipparchus was the first who applied himself to the Of Hippar-
study of every part of astronomy, his predecessors ha-c^us*
ving chiefly considered the motions and magnitudes of
the sun and moon. Ptolemy also informs us, that he
first discovered the orbits of the planets to be eccen¬
tric, and on this hypothesis wrote a book against Eu¬
doxus and Calippus. He gives many of his observa¬
tions : and says, that by comparing one of his with
another made by Aristarchus 145 years before, he
was enabled to determine the length of the year with
great precision. Hipparchus also first found out the
anticipation of the moon’s nodes, the eccentricity of
her orbit, and that she moved slower in her apogee
than in her perigee. He collected the accounts of
such ancient eclipses as had been observed by the Chal¬
deans and Egyptians. He formed hypotheses con¬
cerning the celestial motions, and constructed tables of
those of the sun and moon, and would have done the
same with those of the other planets if he could have
found ancient observations sufficient for the purpose $
but, these being wanting, he was obliged to content
himself with collecting fit observations for that purpose,
and endeavouring to form theories of the five planets.
By comparing his own observations on the Spica Vir-
ginis with those of Timochares at Alexandria made 100
years before, he discovered that the fixed stars changed
their places, and had a slow motion of their own from
west to east. He corrected the Calippic period, and
pointed out some errors in the method laid down by
Eratosthenes for measuring the circumference of the
earth. By means of geometry, which was now great¬
ly improved, he was enabled to attempt the calculation
of the sun’s distance in a more correct manner than
any of his predecessors ; but unhappily it required so
much accuracy in observation as was found impracti- 15
cable. His greatest work, however, was his catalogue Makes the
of the fixed stars, which he was induced to attempt by
the appearance of a new star. The catalogue is pre-e(i starSt
served by Ptolemy, and contains the longitudes and la¬
titudes of 1022 stars, with their apparent magnitudes.
He wrote also concerning the intervals between eclipses
both solar and lunar, and is said to have calculated all
that were to happen for no less than 600 years from his
time. 16
Little progress was made in astronomy from the timesystem
of Hipparchus to that of Ptolemy, who flourished
the first century. The principles on which his system
is built are indeed erroneous : but his work will al¬
ways be valuable on account of the number of ancient
observations it contains. It was first translated out of
the Greek into Arabic in the year 827, and into La¬
tin from the Arabic in 1230. The Greek original
was unknown in Europe till the beginning of the 15th
century,
Part I.
Hi*ioiy. century, when it was brought from Constantinople, then
' ’ taken by the Turks, by George a monk ofTrapezond,
who translated it into Latin. Various editions were af¬
terwards published : but little or no improvement was
17 made by the Greeks in this science.
^fthe'lra Durin& the long period from the year 800 to the
bians? ^ beginning of the 14th century, the western parts of
Europe were immersed in deep ignorance and barbarity.
However, several learned men arose among the Arabians.
The caliph A1 Mansur was the first who introduced a
taste for the sciences in his empire. His grandson A1
Mamun, who ascended the throne in 814, was a great
encourager of the sciences, and devoted much of his own
time to the study of them. He made many astronomi¬
cal observations himself, and determined the obliquity
of the ecliptic to be 230 35'. He employed many able
mechanics in constructing proper instruments, which he
made use of for his observations ; and under his auspices
a degree of the earth was measured a second time in the
plain of Singar, on the border of the Red sea. From
this time astronomy was studiously cultivated by the
Arabians j and Elements of Astronomy were written
by Alferganus, who was partly cotemporary with the
caliph A1 Mamun. Rut the most celebrated of all
their astronomers is Alhategnius, who lived about the
year of Christ 880. He greatly reformed astronomy,
by comparing his own observations with those of Ptole¬
my. Thus he calculated the motion of the sun’s apo¬
gee from Ptolemy’s time to his own •, determined the
precession of the equinoxes to be one degree in 70 years;
and fixed the sun’s greatest declination at 23.35'. Find¬
ing that the tables ot Ptolemy required much correc¬
tion, he composed new ones of his own fitted to the
meridian of Aracta, which were long held in estimation
by the Arabians. After his time, though several emi¬
nent astronomers appeared among the Saracens, none
made any very valuable observations for several centu¬
ries, excepting Ebn Younis astronomer to the caliph of
Egypt; who observed three eclipses with such care, that
by means of them we are enabled to determine the quan¬
tity of the moon’s acceleration since that time.
Other eminent Saracen astronomers were, Arzachel
a Moor of Spain, who observed the obliquity of the
ecliptic, and constructed tables of sines, or half chords
of double arcs, dividing the diameter into 300 parts ;
and Alhazen, his cotemporary, who first showed the im¬
portance of the theory ot refractions in astronomy ;
writing also upon the twilight, the height of the clouds,
and the phenomenon of the horizontal moon.
Ulug Beg, a grandson of the famous Tartar prince
Timur Beg, or Tamerlane, was a great proficient in
practical astronomy. He is said to have had very large
instruments for making his observations ; particularly a
quadrant as high as the church of Sancta Sophia at Con¬
stantinople, which is 180 Roman feet. He composed
astronomical tables from his own observations for the
meridian of Samarcand his capital, so exact as to differ
very little from those afterwards constructed by Tycho
Brahe ; but his principal work is his catalogue of the
fixed stars, made from his own observations in the year
of Christ 1437. I he accuracy of his observations may
be gathered from his determining the height of the pole
at Samarcand to be 390 37' 23".
Besides these improvements, we are indebted to the
15
Arabians for the present form of trigonometry. Me- History.
nelaus, indeed, an eminent Greek astronomer who—v '
flourished about the year 90, had published three books
of Spherics, in which he treated of the geometry ne¬
cessary to astronomy, and which show great skill in the
sciences ; but his methods were very laborious, even
after they had been improved and rendered more sim¬
ple by Ptolemy : but Geber the Arabian, instead of
the ancient method, proposed three or four theorems,
which are the foundation of our modern trigonome¬
try. The Arabians also made the practice still more
simple, by using sines instead of the chords of double
arcs. The arithmetical characters they had from the
Indians. lS
During the greatest part of this time, almost all Eu-Revival of
rope continued ignorant not only of astronomy but 0f^str®nomy
every other science. The emperor Frederick II. first1U ■Eur°l>e‘
began to encourage learning in 1230 ; restoring some
universities, and founding a new one in Vienna. He
also caused the works of Aristotle, and the Almagest
or Astronomical Treatise of Ptolemy, to be translated
into Latin ; and from the translation of this book we
may date the revival of astronomy in Europe. Two
years after its publication, John de Sacro Bosco, or of
Halifax, an Englishman, wrote his four books JDe
Sph&ra, which he compiled from Ptolemy Albateg-
nius, Alferganus, and* other Arabian astronomers :
this work was so much celebrated, that for 300 years
it was preferred in the schools to every other; and has
been thought worthy of several commentaries, particu¬
larly by Clavius in 1531. In 1240, Alphonso king of
Castile caused the tables of Ptolemy to be correct¬
ed : for which purpose he assembled many persons
skilled in astronomy, Christians, Jews, and Moors ; by
whom the tables called Alphonsine were composed, at
the expence of 40,000, or according to others 400,000
ducats. About the same time Roger Bacon, an English
monk, published many things relative to astronomy ; par¬
ticularly of the places of the fixed stars, solar rays, and
lunar aspects. Vitellio, a Polander, wrote a treatise on
Optics about 1270, in which he showed the use of re¬
fractions in astronomy.
From this time to that of Purbach, who was born Improve-
in 1423, few or no improvements were made in astro-meats of
nomy. He wrote a commentary on Ptolemy’s Al- Purbach.
rnagest, some treatises on Arithmetic and Dialling,
with tables for various climates. He not only used
spheres and globes, but constructed them himself; and
formed new tables of the fixed stars, reduced to the
middle of that age. He composed also new tables of
sines for every ten minutes, which Regiomontanus af¬
terwards extended to every single minute, making the
whole sine 60, with 6 ciphers annexed. He likewise
corrected the tables of the planets, making new equa¬
tions to them, because the Alphonsine tables were very
faulty in this respect. In his solar tables he placed the
sun’s apogee in the beginning of Cancer ; but retained
the obliquity of the ecliptic 230 33^', to which it had
been reduced by the latest observations. He made
new tables for computing eclipses, of which he observed
some, and had just published a theory of the planets,
when he died in 1461. 2a
John Muller of Monteregio (Koningsberg), a town, Of Regio-
of Franconia, from whence he was called montan us.
nus}
ASTRONOMY.
16 ASTRO
Ilistw'', nus, was the scholar and successor of Purbach. He
<—-y—l™ completed the epitome of Ptolemy’s Almagest which
Purbach had begunand after the death of the latter,
went to Ptome, where he made many astronomical ob¬
servations. Having returned to Nuremberg in 1471,
he was entertained by a wealthy citizen named Ber¬
nard Walt her, who having a great love for astronomy,
caused several instruments to be made under the direc¬
tion of Regiomontanus, for observing the altitude of
the sun and stars, and other celestial phenomena. A-
mong these was an armillary astrolabe, like that which
had been used by Hipparchus and Ptolemy at Alexan¬
dria, and with which many observations were made.
He also made ephemerides for 30 years to come, show¬
ing the lunations, eclipses, &c. He wrote the Theory
of the Planets and Comets, and a Treatise of Triangles
yet in repute for several extraordinary cases. He is said
to have been the first who introduced the use of tangents
into trigonometry j and to have published in print (the
art of printing having been lately invented) the works
of many of the most celebrated ancient astronomers.
After his death, which happened at Rome, Walther
made a diligent search for all his instruments and papers
which could be found : and continued his observations
with the instruments he had till his death. The obser¬
vations of both were collected by order of the senate of
Nuremberg, and published there by John Schoner in
1 944 ; afterwards by Snellius at the end of the Obser¬
vations made by the landgrave of Hesse in 1618 ; and
lastly, in 1666, with those of Tycho Brahe. Walther,
however, as we are told by Snellius, found fault with
his armiila, not being able to give any observation with
certainty to less than ten minutes. He made use of a
good clock, which also was a late invention in those
tt days.
Of Werner. John Werner, a clergyman, succeeded Walther as
astronomer at Nuremberg-, having applied himself with
great assiduity to the study of that science from his in¬
fancy. He observed the motion of the comet in 1500 >
and published several tracts, in which he handled ma¬
ny capital points of geometry, astronomy, and geo¬
graphy, in a masterly manner. He published a trans¬
lation of Ptolemy’s Geography, with a commentary,
which is still extant. In this he first proposed the me¬
thod of finding the longitude at sea by observing the
moon’s distance from the fixed stars which is now so
successfully put in practice. He also published many
other treatises on mathematics and geography 5 but the
most remarkable of all his treatises, are those concern¬
ing the motion of the eighth sphere or of the fixed
stars, and a short theory of the same. In this he show¬
ed, by comparing his own observations of the stars Re-
gulus, Spica Virginis, and the bright star in the south¬
ern scale of the Balance, made in 1514, with the pla¬
ces assigned to the same stars by Ptolemy, Alphonsus,
and others, that the motion of the fixed stars, now
called the precession of the equinoctial points, is one de¬
gree ten minutes in 100 years, and not one degree on¬
ly, as former astronomers had made it. He made the
obliquity of the ecliptic 230 28', and the first star of
Aries 26° distant from the equinoctial point. He also
constructed a planetarium representing the celestial mo¬
tions according to the Ptolemaic hypothesis, and made
a great number of meteorological observations with a
^iew towards the prediction of the weather. The ob-
N O M Y. Part I-
liquity of the ecliptic was settled by Dominic Maria History,
the friend of Copernicus, at 230 29', which is still held 1—-v——J
to be just. 2j
The celebrated Nicholas Copernicus next makes his Pytbago-
appearance, and is undoubtedly the great reformer °frean sysu-iu
the astronomical science. He was originally bred to Copernicus,
the practice of medicine, and had obtained the degree
of doctor in that faculty : but having conceived a great
regard for the mathematical sciences, especially astro¬
nomy, he travelled into Italy, where he for some time
was taught by Dominic Maria, or rather assisted him
in his astronomical operations. On his return to
his own country, being made one of the canons of
the church, he applied himself with the utmost assidui¬
ty to the contemplation of the heavens, and to the stu¬
dy of the celestial motions. He soon perceived the de¬
ficiency of all the hypotheses by which it had been at¬
tempted to account for these motions ; and for this rea¬
son he set himself to study the works of the ancients,
with all of whom he also was dissatisfied excepting Py¬
thagoras ; who, as has been already related, placed
the sun in the centre, and supposed all the planets,
with the earth itself, to revolve round him. He in¬
forms us, that he began to entertain these notions about
the vear 1507 ; but not being satisfied with stating the
general nature of his hypothesis, he became desirous of
determining the several periodical revolutions of the
planets, and thence of constructing tables of their mo¬
tions which might be more agreeable to truth than
those of Ptolemy and Alphonsus. The observations
he was enabled to make, however, must have been ex¬
tremely inaccurate : as he tells us, that if with the in¬
struments he made use of he should be able to come
within ten .minutes of the truth, he would rejoice no
less than Pythagoras did when he discovered the pro¬
portion of the hypothenuse to the other two sides of a
right-angled triangle. His work was completed in the
year 1530; but he could not be prevailed upon to
publish it till towards the end of his life, partly through
diffidence, and partly through fear of the offence
which might be taken at the singularity of the doc¬
trines set forth in it. At last, overcome by the im¬
portunities of his friends, he suffered it to be published
at their expence, and under the inspection of Schoner
and Osiander, with a dedication to Pope Paul III. and
a preface, in which it was attempted to palliate as
much as possible the extraordinary innovations it con¬
tained. During the time of its publication the au¬
thor himself was attacked with a bloody flux, succeeded
by a palsy •, so that he received a copy only a few
hours before his death, which happened on the 23d of
May 1543.
After the death of Copernicus, the astronomical
science was greatly improved by Schoner, Nonius, Ap-
pian, and Gemma Frisius. Schoner survived Coper¬
nicus only four years j however, he greatly improved
the methods of making celestial observations, reformed
and explained the calendar, and published a treatise of
cosmography. Nonius had applied himself very early
to the study of astronomy and navigation •, but finding
the instruments at that time in use excessively inaccu¬
rate, he applied himself to the invention of others
which should be less liable to inconvenience. Thus he
invented the astronomical quadrant, in which he divid¬
ed the degrees into minutes by a number of concentric
circles.
Part I. ASTBONOMY.
Hiitow. circles. Tlie first of these was divided into 90 equal
——v—-—' parts, the second into 89, the third into 88, and so
on, as low as 46 ; and thus, as the index of the qua¬
drant would always fall upon one or other of the divi¬
sions, or very near it, the minutes might he known by
computation. lie published many treatises on ma¬
thematical subjects, particularly one which detected
the errors of Orontius, who had imagined that he
could square the circle, double the cube, &c. by find¬
ing two mean pronortionals betwixt two right lines.
Appian’s chief work was entitled The Ceesarean Astro¬
nomy; and was published at Xngolstadt in 1540, de¬
dicated to the emperor Charles V. and his brother
Ferdinand. In this he showed how to resolve astrono¬
mical problems by means of instruments, without either
calculations or tables j to observe the places of the
stars and planets by the astrolabe ; and to foretel
eclipses and describe the figures of them : the whole
illustrated by proper diagrams. In his second book
he describes the method of dividing an astronomical
quadrant, and of using it properly. His treatise con¬
cludes with the observation of five comets. Gemma
Frisius wrote a commentary on a work of Appian en¬
titled his Cosmography, with many observations of eclip¬
ses. He invented also the astronomical ring, and se¬
veral other instruments, which, though they could not
boast of much exactness superior to others, were yet of
considerable utility in taking observations at sea ; and
he is also memorable for being the first who proposed a
time-keeper for determining the longitude at sea.—
George Joachim Rheticus was a scholar of Copernicus,
to attend whose lectures he gave up his professorship of
mathematics at Wittemberg. For the improvement of
astronomical calculations, he began to construct a table
of sines, tangents, and secants, for every minute and
ten seconds of the quadrant. In this work he first
showed the use of secants in trigonometry, and greatly
enlarged the use of tangents, first invented by Regio¬
montanus j but he assigned for the radius a much larger
number of places than had been done before, for the
greater exactness of calculation. This great work he
did not live to accomplish j but it was completed by his
disciple Valentine Otho, and published at Heidelberg
s in 1594-
Several il- During this century, the list of astronomers was dig-
ustrious nified by some very illustrious names. About the year
persons ap- 1561, William IV. landgrave of Hesse Cassel, applied
tud^of1 a k'mse^ ^ie study °f astronomy. With the assistance
tronomy." °f Rothman and Burgius, the former an astronomer, the
latter an excellent mathematical instrument-maker, he
erected an observatory on the top of his palace at Cassel,
and furnished it with such instruments as were then in
use, made in the best manner the artists of that age
could execute. With these he made a great number of
observations, which were by Hevelius preferred to
those of Tycho Brahe, and which were published by
Snellius in 1618. From these observations he deter¬
mined the longitudes and latitudes of 400 stars, which
he inserted in a catalogue where their places are recti-
fied to the beginning of the year 1593.
)bserva- Tycho Brahe began his observations about the same
ioni of time with the landgrave of Hesse, already mentioned,
•rahe 0^served the great conjunction of Saturn and Ju¬
piter in 1563 ; and finding the instruments he could
procure very inaccurate, he made a quadrant capable
Vol. III. Part I. -f
of showing single minutes, and likewise a sextant four History,
cubits radius. In 1571, he discovered a new star in'——v——^
the chair of Cassiopeia ; which induced him, like Hip¬
parchus, to make a catalogue of the stars. This contain¬
ed the places of 777 stars, rectified to the year 1600 j
but instead of the moon, which was used by the ancients
to connect the places of the sun and stars, Tycho sub¬
stituted Venus, as having little or no parallax, and yet
being like the moon visible both day and night. By
the recommendation of the landgrave of Hesse, he
obtained from the king of Denmark the island of Hu-
enna, opposite to Copenhagen, where an observatory
was built. The first stone of this building, afterwards 25
called Uranihurg, was laid in the year 1576. It wasAccountof
of a square form, one side of it being about 60 feet in Uraniburg,
length 5 and on the east and west sides were two roundlns obser*
towers of 32 feet diameter each. The instruments™101*’
were larger and more solid than had ever been seen be¬
fore by any astronomer. They consisted of quadrants,
sextants, circles, semicircles, armillae both equatorial and
zodiacal, parallactic rulers, rings, astrolabes, globes,
clocks, and sun-dials. These instruments were so di¬
vided as to show single minutes ; and in some the arch
might be read off to 10 seconds. Most of the divisions
were diagonal : but he had one quadrant divided ac¬
cording to the method invented by Nonius ; that is, by
47 concentric circles. The whole expence is said to
have amounted to 200,000 crowns. The method of
dividing by diagonals, which Tycho greatly admired,
was the invention of Mr Richard Chanceler, an Eng¬
lishman : Tycho, however, shows, that it is not accu¬
rately true when straight lines are employed, and the
circles at equal distances from each other ; but that it
may be corrected by making circular diagonals, which
if continued would pass through the centre.
Tycho employed his time at Uraniburg to the best
advantage j but falling into discredit on the death of
the king, he was obliged to remove to Holstein, and at
last found means to get himself introduced to the em¬
peror, with whom he continued to his death. He is
well known to have been the inventor of a system of
astronomy, which bears his name; and which he
vainly endeavoured to establish on the ruins of that
of Copernicus : but the simplicity and evident conso-
nancy to the phenomena of nature, displayed in all
parts of the Copernican system, soon got the better of
the unnatural and complicated system of Tycho. His
works, however, which are very numerous, discover him
te have been a man of vast abilities. After his death
the castle of Uraniburg quickly fell to decay, and in¬
deed seems to have been purposely pulled down 3 for,
in 1652, when Mr Huet went to Sweden, it was almost
level with the ground, and few traces of the walls could
he discerned. None of the neighbouring inhabitants
had ever heard of the name of Tycho or Uraniburg,
excepting one old man, whom Mr Huet found out
with great difficulty, and who had been a servant in
the family ! All the discoveries of Purback, Regiomon¬
tanus, and Tycho, were collected and published in the
year 1621, by Longomontanus, who had been Tycho’s
favourite scholar.
While Tycho resided at Prague with the emperor, HiS(,,j^ene
he invited thither John Kepler, afterwards so famous
for his discoveries. Under the tuition of so great
an astronomer, the latter quickly made an amazing
C progress.
18
ASTRONOMY.
Part I. i
History.
*7
Invention
of tele¬
scopes, and
consequent
discoveries.
progress. He found that his predecessors had erred
in supposing the orbits of the planets to be circular,
and their motions uniform : on the contrary, he per¬
ceived, from his own observations, that they were el¬
liptical, and their motions unequal, having the sun in
one of the foci of their orbits ; but that, however they
varied in absolute velocity, a line drawn from the cen¬
tre of the sun to the planet, and revolving with it,
would always describe equal areas in equal times. He
discovered, in the year 1618, that the squares of the
periodical times are as the cubes of the distances of the
planets; two laws which have been of the greatest im¬
portance to the advancement of astronomy. He seems
to have had some notion of the extensive power of the
principle of gravity: for he tells us, that gravity is a
mutual power betwixt two bodies j that the moon and
earth tend towards each other, and would meet in a
point nearer the earth than the moon in the proportion
of the superior magnitude of the former, were they not
hindered by their projectile motions. He adds also,
that the tides arise from the gravitation of the waters
towards the moon : however, he did not adhere steadily
to these principles, hut afterwards substituted others as
the causes of the planetary motions.
Cotemporary with Kepler were Mr Edward Wright,
and Napier baron of Merchiston. To the former we
owe several very good meridional observations of the
sun’s altitude, made with a quadrant of six feet radius,
In the years 1594, I595> and 1596 j from which he
greatly improved the theory of the sun’s motion, and
computed more exact tables of his declination than
had been done by any person before. He published
also, in 1599, an excellent treatise, entitled, “ Cer¬
tain Errors in Navigation discovered and detected.”
To the latter we are indebted for the knowledge of
logarithms j a discovery, as was justly observed by Dr
Halley, one of the most useful ever made in the art of
numbering. John Bayer, a German, who lived about
the same time, will ever be memorable for his work,
entitled, Uranometria, which is a very complete ce¬
lestial atlas, or a collection of all the constellations vi¬
sible in Europe. To this he added a nomenclature, in
which the stars in each constellation are marked with
the letters of the Greek alphabet ; and thus every star
in the heavens may be referred to with the utmost pre¬
cision and exactness. About the same time also, astro¬
nomy was cultivated by many other persons ; abroad,
by Magmus, Mercator, Maurolycus, Homelins, Schul-
tet, Stevin, &c.; and by Thomas and Leonard Digges,
John Dee, and Robert Flood, in England : hut none
of them made any considerable improvement.
The beginning of the 17th century was distinguish¬
ed not only by the discovei'y of logarithms, but by
that of telescopes ; a sort of instruments by which
astronomy was brought to a degree of perfection utter¬
ly inconceivable by those who knew nothing of them.
The question concerning the inventor is discussed under
the article Optics ; but whoever was entitled to this
merit, it is certain that Galileo was the first who
brought them to such perfection as to make any con¬
siderable discoveries in the celestial regions. With in¬
struments of his own making, Galileo discovered the
inequalities in the moon’s surface, the satellites of Ju¬
piter, and the ring of Saturn ; though this last was
unknown to him after he had seen it, and the view he
3
got made him conclude that the planet had a threefold History,
body, or that it was of an oblong shape like an olive. v»" 1 v—
He discovered spots on the sun, by means of which he
found out the revolution of that luminary on his axis ;
and he discovered also that the milky way and nebulae
were full of small stars. It was not, however, till
some time after these discoveries were made, that Ga¬
lileo and others thought of applying the observations
on Jupiter’s satellites to the purpose of finding the lon¬
gitude of places on the surface of the earth ", and even
after this was thought of, astronomers found it so dif¬
ficult to construct tables of their motions, that it was
not till after many observations had been made in
distant places of the world, that Cassini was able to
determine what positions of the satellites were most
proper for finding out the longitude. At last he per¬
ceived that the entrance of the first satellite into the
shadow of Jupiter, and the exit of it from the same,
were the most proper for this purpose : that next to
these the conjunctions of the satellites with Jupiter, or
with one another, may be made use of; especially when
any two of them, moving in contrary directions, meet
with each other: and lastly, that observations on the
shadows of the satellites, which may he seen on the
disk of Jupiter, are useful, as also the spots which are
seen upon his face, and are carried along it with greater
velocity than has hitherto been discovered in any of the
other heavenly bodies.
While astronomers were thus busy in making new Lo"-arith-
discoveries, the mathematicians in different countries mic tables
were no less earnestly employed in constructing loga-composed,
rithmic tables to facilitate their calculations. Benja¬
min Ursinus, an excellent mathematician of Branden¬
burg, calculated much larger tables of logarithms than
had been done by their noble inventor, and published
them in 1625. They were improved by Henry Briggs,
Savilian professor of Oxford ; who by making unity the
logarithm often, thus rendered them much more con¬
venient for the purposes of calculation. Logarithmic
tables of sines and tangents were also composed by Mr
Briggs and Adrian Vlacq at Goude, so that the busi¬
ness of calculation was now rendered nearly as easy as
possible. ^
In 1733, Mr Horrox, a young astronomer of very Transit of
extraordinary talents, discovered that Venus would pass Venus firs
over the disk of the sun on the 24th of Novemberol)serve^b
1639. This event he announced only to one friend, * om>
a Mr Crabtree 5 and these two were the only persons in
the world who observed this transit the first time it had
ever been viewed by human eyes. Mr Horrox made
many useful observations at the time ; and had even
formed a new theory of the moon, so ingenious as to
attract the notice of Sir Isaac Newton : but the hopes
of astronomers from the abilities of this excellent young
man were blasted by his death in the beginning of Ja¬
nuary 1640.
About the year 1638 many learned men began to p0Unjali0
assemble at Paris in order to hold conferences on dif-0f tjje ^Cj
ferent scientific subjects, which was the first foundation demy of
of the Royal Academy of Sciences in that capital. ^°ie.nces 1
This practice was introduced in France by Mersennus,
and soon after at London by Oldenburg 5 which laidcjetyat
the foundation of the Royal Society there. About London,
this time also the celebrated astronomer Hevelius flou¬
rished at Dantz.ic, building an observatory in his own
house,
h
mi
Part I.
A S T R
31
unprove-
uents in
tlescope
History, house, and furnishing it with excellent instruments of
—v——' his own construction 5 particularly octants and sextants
of brass of three and four feet radius, as well as te¬
lescopes, with which he constantly observed the spots
and phases of the moon, and from which observations
he afterwards compiled his excellent and beautiful work
entitled Selenographia. This noble building, together
with all the books and instruments it contained, was
consumed by fire on the 26th of September 1679 ;
but the memory, as well as the form and construction
of the instruments, is preserved in a curious work of
the ingenious inventor, entitled Machina Ccelestis;
though almost the whole impression of this book was in¬
volved in the same fate with the instruments it describes.
The damage sustained on this occasion was estimated at
30,000 crowns.
The celebrated English mechanic Dr Hooke, who
was cotemporary with Hevelius, had in the mean time
invented instruments with telescopic sights, which he
preferred to those used by Hevelius so much* that a
dispute commenced, which procured Hevelius a visit
from Dr Halley. The latter had at that time taken
a voyage to St Helena, at the desire of the Royal So¬
ciety, in order to observe and form a catalogue of the
stars in the southern hemisphere. The result of his
observations with Hevelius’s instruments was, that
three several observations on the Spica Virginis and
Regulus differed only a few seconds from each other.
They were the invention of Tycho Brahe, and are
described under the article Optics. At this visit Hal¬
ley and Hevelius observed an occultation of Jupiter by
the moon, and determined the diameter of the latter
* to be 30', 33".
In 1671 the royal observatory in Paris was finished,
and the use of it assigned to Mr Cassini, after it had been
furnished with instruments at a very great expence : and
the observatory at Greenwich being likewise built five
years after, Mr Flamstead was appointed astronomer-
royal. The observations in both these places, however,
have been so numerous, that it is in vain to attempt any
account of them.
Before the middle of the 17th century the construc¬
tion of telescopes had been greatly improved, particular¬
ly by Fontana and Huygens. The latter constructed
one of 123 feet, which is still preserved in the museum
of the Royal Society at London. With this he observed
the moon and planets for a long time, and discovered
that Saturn was encompassed with a ring. The French,
however, still outdid the English artists; and by means
of telescopes of 200 and 300 feet focus, Mr Cassini was
enabled to see all the five satellites of Saturn, his belts,
and the shadows of Jupiter’s satellites passing over his
body. In 1666 Mr Azout applied a micrometer to te¬
lescopes, for the purpose of measuring the diameters of
the planets, and small distances in the heavens; how¬
ever, an instrument of this kind had been before invent¬
ed by Mr Gascoigne, though it was but little known
abroad.
Notwithstanding all these discoveries by means of
telescopes, it was evident that they still continued in
a very imperfect state, and their imperfections at the
time appeared to be without remedy. One defect
was the enoimous length requisite to admit of any very
considerable magnifying power; and another was the
mcori ectness of the image arising from the aberration of
O N O M Y. I9
the rays, as was then supposed, by the spherical figure History.
of the glass. To obviate these inconveniences, Mer- 
sennus is said to have first proposed, in a letter to
Descartes, the use of reflectors instead of lenses in
the construction of telescopes ; but this he did in such
an obscure manner, that the latter laboured to persuade
him of the falsehood of the principle on which his
scheme was founded. In 1663, however, James Gre¬
gory of Aberdeen showed how such a telescope might
be constructed. He showed also, that, in order to
form a perfect image of an object in this manner, the
figure of the speculum ought to be parabolic ; but Sir
Isaac Newton, who applied himself to the framing of
telescopes of the reflecting kind, found it impracticable
to grind them of the desired figure. Laying aside the
idea of reflecting telescopes, therefore, he applied him¬
self to the execution of a scheme formed by Descartes,
viz. that of grinding lenses of the figure of one of the
conic sections. In prosecuting this plan, he discovered,
that the greatest errors to which telescopes were subject
arose from the different refrangibility of the rays of light,
for which he could not then find any remedy. He there¬
fore returned to the scheme he had just abandoned ; and,
in the year 1672, presented to the Royal Society two
reflectors which were Constructed with spherical spe-
culums, as he could not procure any other. The in¬
conveniences arising from the different refrangibility of
the rays of light, have since been in the fullest manner
corrected by Mr Dollond, the excellency of whose
achromatic telescopes is too well known to need any en¬
comium.
About the beginning of the 18th century, the
practical part of astronomy seemed to languish for want
of proper instruments. Roemer, indeed, had invented
some new ones, and Dr Hooke had turned bis atten¬
tion towards this subject in a very particular manner;
but either through want of skill in the artists, or some
other unfortunate circumstance, it happened that no¬
thing effectual was done. But at the very time when
this was the case with practical astronomy, the specu¬
lative part was carried in a manner to its utmost
pitch by the labours of the immortal Newton, whose
Principia gave an entire new face to the science. It
was not, however, for many years relished by the
foreign philosophers, though almost immediately adopt¬
ed at home, and has continued ever since to spread its
reputation farther and farther, so that now it is in a
manner established all over the world. “But Csay*
Dr Long) that, after Newton’s system had for so long
a time been neglected, it should all at once be uni¬
versally received and approved of, is not to be attri¬
buted to chance, or the caprice of fashion, as some who
are ignorant of it are apt to think, and from thence
to expect that some other system will hereafter take its
place, and bury it in oblivion. The system of New¬
ton, like that of Copernicus, is so agreeable to the phe¬
nomena of nature, and so well put together, that it must
last as long as truth and reason endure, although some
may perhaps bring the word attraction into disuse ; and
though it may no longer be thought inherent in mat¬
ter, yet the laws of gravitation, as they are now called,
and on which this system is founded, will never be for¬
gotten.”
It was also in Britain that the first improvements i/i
astronomical instruments took place. The celebrated
C 2 mechanic
20
History.
32
Astronomi¬
cal instru-
rnents first
improved in
England.
ASTRONOMY.
Part I.
33
Improve¬
ment*
within this
last cen¬
tury.
mechanic and watchmaker, Graham, carried the accu¬
racy of his instruments to a degree which surprised every
one. He also greatly improved the principles of watch-
work, and made clocks to go with much greater regu¬
larity than before. The old eight-feet mural arch at
Greenwich was also constructed by him; as was a
small equatorial sector for making observations out of
the meridian ; but he is chiefly remarkable for con¬
triving the zenith sector of 24 feet radius, and after¬
wards one of 12I feet, by which Dr Bradley discover¬
ed the aberration of the fixed stars. The reflecting
telescope, which had been invented by Gregory, and
executed by Newton, was greatly improved by Mr Had¬
ley, and a very complete and powerful instrument of
that kind was presented to the Koyal Society in 1719.
The same gentleman has also immortalized his memory
by the invention of the reflecting quadrant, which be
presented to the Society in 1731, which is now in uni¬
versal use at sea 5 and without which all improvements
of the lunar theory would have been useless for deter¬
mining the longitude, through the want of an instru¬
ment proper to make the observations with. It howr-
ever appears, that an instrument, exactly similar to this
in its principles, had been invented by Sir Isaac New¬
ton, and a description of it, together with a drawing,
given by tbe inventor to Dr Halley, when he was pre¬
paring for his voyage to discover tbe variation of the
needle in 1701. About the middle of this century,
the constructing and dividing of large astronomical in¬
struments was carried to a great degree of perfection
by Mr John Bird reflecting telescopes were equally
improved by Mr Short, who first executed the divided
object-glass micrometer. This had indeed been thought
of by M. Louville, and several other persons long be¬
fore j and a description of one nearly agreeing with
that of Mr Short had been published in the Philoso¬
phical Transactions for 1753 : but had it not been for
the great skill of Mr Short in figuring and centering
glasses of this kind, it is very probable the scheme
might never have been executed. About this time
also Mr Dollond brought refracting telescopes to such
perfection, that they became superior to reflectors of
equal length ; though all of them are now excelled by
those of Mr Herschel, whose telescopic discoveries have
been far more numerous and surprising than those of
any other astronomer.
We shall close this history with a short account of the
labours of the principal astronomers since thebuilding tbe
royal observatories at Paris and Greenwich, and tbe ap¬
pointment of Mr Flamstead to the office of astronomer
royal. This gentleman not only made observations on tbe
sun, moon, planets, and comets which appeared in his
time, but on the fixed stars also, of which l>e gave a cata¬
logue of 3000 *, many of them so small that they cannot
be d iscerned without the help of a telescope : he also
published new solar tables, and a theory of tbe moon ac¬
cording to Horrox. He published a very curious tract
on the doctrine of the sphere, in which be shewed bow
to construct eclipses of the sun and moon, as well as
occultations of the fixed stars by the moon, geometri¬
cally ; and it was upon his observations that Halley’s
tables and Newton’s theory of the moon were con¬
structed. Mr Cassini also distinguished himself very
considerably. Pie erected the gnomon, and drew tbe
famous meridian line in the church of Petronia at Bolog¬
na. He enjoyed his office more than 40 years, making History.
many observations on the sun, moon, planets, and co- * > 
mets, and greatly amended the elements of their mo¬
tions *, though the result of his labours was much in¬
ferior to Mr PJamstead’s. Tbe office was continued in
his family, and his grandson still enjoys it. Boemer, a
celebrated Danish astronomer, first discovered the pro¬
gressive motion of light by observing tbe eclipses of Ju¬
piter, and read a dissertation upon it before the lloyal
Academy of Sciences at Paris in the year 1675. He
was also the first who made use of a meridional tele¬
scope.
Mr Flamstead was succeeded in 1719 by Dr Halley,
“ the greatest astronomer (says M. de la Lande)
without contradiction in England j” and, adds Dr
Long, “ I believe he might have said in the whole
world,” He had been sent, at the age of 21, by
King Charles II. to the island of St Helena, in order
to make a catalogue of the southern stars, which was
published in 1679. I7°5» ^ie published his Synop¬
sis Astronomice Cometicce, in which, after immense cal¬
culation, he ventured to predict tbe return of one in
1758 or 1759. He also published many learned dis¬
sertations in the Philosophical Transactions concerning
the use that might be made of the next transit of Ve¬
nus in determining the distance of the sun from the
earth. He was tbe first who discovered the accelera¬
tion of the moon, and gave a very ingenious method
of finding her parallax by three observed phases of a
solar eclipse. He composed tables of the sun, moon,,
and all the planets j and, in the nine years in which he
was at Greenwich, made near 1500 observations of the
moon 5 all which he compared with the tables, and
noted the differences ; and these, he thought, would
return in about 18 years. He recommended the
method of determining the longitude by means of
the moon’s distance from the sun and certain fixed
stars. He was convinced of its superior excellence 5
and it has since been adopted by all tbe most emi¬
nent astronomers in Europe. It is at present the only
sure guide to the mariner; and the great perfection
to which it is now brought is much owing to the in¬
dustry and exertions of Dr Maskelyne, the present
astronomer-royal, to whom we are indebted for the pub¬
lication of the Nautical Almanack, the Bequisite Ta¬
bles, and other works of the utmost service to practical
astronomy. ^
In the mean time an attempt was made in France to True figure
measure a degree of the earth, which occasioned a very the eartf
warm dispute concerning tbe figure of it. Cassini, ^*SCOTere<^
from Picart’s measure, concluded that the earth was
an oblong spheroid ; but Newton, from a considera¬
tion of the laws of gravity and the diurnal motion of
the earth, had determined the figure of it to be an ob¬
late spheroid, and flatted at the poles. To determine
this point, Louis XV. resolved to have two degrees
of the meridian measured ; one under, or very near the
equator ; and the other as near the pole as possible.
For this purpose the Boyal Academy of Sciences sent
M. Maupertuis, Clairault, Camus, and Le Monier, to
Lapland. They were accompanied by the abbe Ou¬
tlier, a correspondent of tbe same academy. They
were joined by M. Celsius professor of anatomy at Up-
sal ; and having set out from France in the spring of
the year 1736, returned to it in 1737, after having
fully
at I,
Part I.
ASTRONOMY.
2 l
lory.
History.
ered
35
Improve-
M ments by
the French
astrono¬
mers.
fully accomplislietl tlieir errand. On the southern ex¬
pedition were despatched M. Godin, Condamine, and
Bouguer, to whom the king of Spain joined Don
George Juan and Don Anthony de Ulloa, two very
ingenious gentlemen and officers of the marine. They
left Europe in 1735 j and after enduring innumerable
hardships and difficulties in the execution of their com¬
mission, returned to Europe at different times, and by
different ways, in the years 1744, 1745, and 1746.
The result of this arduous task was a confirmation of
Newton’s investigation. Picart’s measure was revised
by Cassini and De la Caille 5 and, after his errors were
corrected, it was found to agree very well with the
other two. On this occasion too it was discovered, that
the attraction of the great mountains of Peru had an
effect on the plumb-line of one of their largest instru¬
ments, drawing it seven or eight seconds from the true
perpendicular.
Dr Halley, dying in 1742, was succeeded hy Dr
Bradley, who, though inferior as a mathematician,
greatly exceeded him as a practical astronomer. He
was the first who made observations with an accuracy
sufficient to detect the lesser inequalities in the motions
of the planets and fixed stars. Thus he discovered the
aberration of light, the nutation of the earth’s axis, and,
was able to make the lunar tables much more perfect
than they had ever been. He also observed the places,
and computed the elements of the comets which ap¬
peared in the years 1723, 1736, 1743, and 1757. He
made new and most accurate tables of the motions of
Jupiter’s satellites, from his own observations and those
of Dr Pound ; and from a multitude of observations of
the sun, moon, and stars, was enabled to give the most
accurate table of mean refractions yet extant, as well
as tbe best methods of computing the variations of those
refractions arising from the different states of the air as
indicated by the thermometer and barometer. In 1750,
having procured a very large transit instrument made
hy Mr Bird, and a new mural quadrant of brass eight
feet radius, he began to make observations with re¬
doubled industry ; so that betwixt this time and his
death, which happened in 1762, he made observations
for settling the places of all the stars in the British ca¬
talogue, together with near 1500 places of the moon,
much the greater part of which he compared with the
tables of Mr Mayer.
In the mean time the French astronomers were assi¬
duous in their endeavours to promote the science of
astronomy. The theory of the moon, which had been
given in a general way by Sir Isaac Newton, began to
he particularly considered by Messrs Clairault, D’Alem¬
bert, Euler, Mayer, Simpson, and Walmsly j though
Clairault, Euler, and Mayer, distinguished themselves
beyond any of the rest, and Mr Euler has been particu¬
larly happy in the arrangement of his tables for the ease
and expedition of computation. He was excelled in
exactness, however, by Mayer, who published his ta¬
bles in the Gottingen Acts for 1753. In these the
errors in longitude never exceeded two minutes 5 and
having yet farther improved them, he sent a copy to
the lords of the British admiralty in 1755; and it
W'as this copy which Dr Bradley compared with his ob¬
servations, as already mentioned. His last corrections
of them were afterwards Sent over by his widow j for
which she and her children received a reward of 3000I.
Accurate tables for Jupiter’s satellites were also com- History.
posed by Mr Wargentin, a most excellent Swedish ■—v 
astronomer, and published in the Upsal Acts in 1741 }
which have since been corrected by the author in such
a manner as to render them greatly superior to any ever
published before. ^5
Amongst the many French astronomers who contri- Of M. de
buted to the advancement of the science, we are parti-la Caille.
cularly indebted to M. de la Caille, for a most excel¬
lent set of solar tables, in which he has made allowances
for the attractions of Jupiter, Venus, and the moon.
In 1750 he went to the Cape of Good Hope, in order to
make observations in concert with the most celebrated
astronomers in Europe, for determining the parallax of
the moon, as well as of the planet Mars, and from
thence that of the sun j from whence it appeared that
the parallax of the sun could not greatly exceed 10 se¬
conds. Here he re-examined and adjusted the places
of the southern stars with great accuracy, and mea¬
sured a degree of the meridian at that place. In Italy
the science was cultivated with the greatest assiduity by
Signior Bianchini, Father Boscovich, Frisi, Manfredi,
Zanotti, and many others $ in Sweden by Wargentin
already mentioned, Blingenstern, Mallet, and Plan-
man j and in Germany, by Euler elder and younger,
Mayer, Lambert, Grischow, &c. In the year 1760
all the learned societies in Europe began to prepare for
observing the transit of Venus over the sun, foretold by
Dr Halley upwards of 80 years before it happened,
showing, at the same time, the important use which
might be made of it. Unfortunately, however, for the
cause of science, many of the astronomers sent out to
obsei've this phenomenon were prevented by unavoid¬
able accidents from reaching the places of their desti¬
nation, and others were disappointed by the badness of
the weather. It happened also, that the circumstances
of the phenomenon were much less favourable for the
purpose of determining the sun’s parallax than had been
expected by Dr Halley, owing to the faults of the
tables he had made use of: so that, notwithstanding
all the labours of astronomers at that time, they were
not able to determine the matter : and even after their
observations in 1769, when the circumstances of the
transit were more favourable, the parallax of the sun
remained still uncertain.
Dr Bradley was succeeded in his office of astrono¬
mer-royal by Mr Bliss, Savilian professor of astronomy
at Oxford ; who, being in a very declining state of
health at the time of his accession to the office, did not
enjoy it long. He was succeeded by the learned Nevil
Maskelyne, D. D. the pi’esent astronomer-royal, whose
name will be rendered immortal by his assiduity and
success in bringing the lunar method of determining the
longitude at sea into general practice.
Such was the general state of astronomy', when Dr
Herschel’s great discovery of augmenting the power of
telescopes, beyond the most sanguine hopes of astrono¬
mers, opened at once a scene altogether unlocked for..
By this indefatigable observer we are made acquainted
with a new primary planet attended by six seconda¬
ries belonging to our solar system j so that the latter
now appears to have double the bounds formerly assign¬
ed to it; this new planet being at least twice the di¬
stance of Saturn from the sun. In the still farther di¬
stant celestial regions, among the fixed stars, his obser¬
vations ,
22
ASTRONOMY.
Part II
Histo’>\ vations are equally surprising; of which we shall only
  v—~ say with Dr Priestley*, “ Mr Herschel’s late disco-
* Exper. veries in and beyond the bounds of the solar system,
the great yiews that he has given of the arrangement
PrefVi °f t*16 stars> their revolutions, and those ot the im¬
mense systems into which they are formed, are pecu¬
liarly calculated to inspire an ardent desire of seeing so
great a scene a little more unfolded. Such discoveries
as these give us a higher idea of the value of our be-
ing, by raising our ideas of the system of which we are
a part j and with this an earnest wish for the continu¬
ance of it.”
History.
PART II. OF THE APPARENT MOTIONS OF THE HEAVENLY BODIES.
WHEN we cast our eyes up towards the heavens, we
perceive a vast hollow hemisphere at an unknown di¬
stance, of which our eyes seem to constitute the centre.
The earth stretches at our feet like an immense plain,
and at a certain distance appears to meet and to bound
the heavenly hemisphere. Now the circle all around,
where the earth and the heavens seem to meet and touch
each other, is called the horizon. We can scarcely avoid
supposing, that besides the hemisphere which we per¬
ceive, there is another, exactly similar, concealed from
our view by the earth, and that the earth, therefore,
is somehow or other suspended in the middle of this
heavenly sphere, with all its inhabitants. A little ob¬
servation turns this suspicion into certainty. For in a
clear evening the heavenly hemisphere is seen studded
with stars, and its appearance is changing every instant.
New stars are continually rising in the east, while others
in the mean time are setting in the west. Those stars,
that, towards the beginning of the evening, were just
seen above the eastern horizon, late at night are seen
in the middle of the starry hemisphere, and may be
traced moving gradually westward, till at last they sink
altogether under the horizon. If we look to the north,
we soon perceive that many stars in that quarter never
set at all, but move round and round, describing a com¬
plete circle in 24 hours. These stars describe their
circles round a fixed point in the heavens ; and the
circles are the smaller, the nearer the star is to the fix¬
ed point. This fixed point is called the north pole.
There must be a similar fixed point in the southern he¬
misphere, called the south pole. Thus the heavenly
sphere appears to turn round two fixed points, called
the poles, once every 24 hours. The imaginary line
^ which joins the points is called the axis of the world.
Appear- In order to have precise notions of the motions of
aace of the the heavenly bodies, it is necessary to be able to assign
heavens, precisely the place in which they are. This is done
by means of several imaginary lines, or rather circles,
supposed described upon the surface of the sphere 5 and
these circles, as is usual with mathematicians, are di¬
vided into 360 equal parts called degrees. Every
degree is divided into 60 minutes: every minute into
60 seconds, and so on. That great circle of the sphere,
which is perpendicular to the axis of the world, and
of course 90° distant from either pole, is called the
equator. The smaller circles, which the stars describe
in consequence of their diurnal motions, are called
parallels, because they are obviously parallel to the e-
quator.
The equator divides the heavenly sphere into two
equal parts, the north and the south ■, but to be able to
assign the position of the stars, it is necessary to have
another circle, passing through the poles, and cutting
the equator perpendicularly. This circle is called a
meridian. It is supposed, not only to pass through the
poles, but to pass also through the point directly over
the head of the observer, and the point of the sphere
exactly opposite to that. The first of these points is
called the zenith, the second is called the nadir.
The meridian divides the circles described by the
stars into two equal parts 5 and when they reach it they
are either at their greatest height above the horizon,
or they are at their least height. The situation of tho
pole is easily determined 5 for it is precisely half way
between the greatest and least height of those stars
which never set. When we advance towards the north
we perceive that the north pole does not remain sta¬
tionary, but rises towards the zenith, nearly in propor¬
tion to the space we pass over. On the other hand it
sinks just as much when we travel towards the south.
Hence we learn that the surface of the earth is not
plane, as one would at first suppose, but curved.
All the heavenly bodies appear to describe a com¬
plete circle round the earth in 24 hours. But be¬
sides these motions which are common to them all,
there are several of them which possess motions pecu¬
liar to themselves. The sun, the most brilliant of alt
the heavenly bodies, is obviously much farther to the
south during winter than during summer. He does
not, therefore, keep the same station in the heavens, nor
describe the same circle every day. The moon not
only changes her form, diminishes, and increases 5 but
if we observe the stars, near which she is situated one
evening, the next evening we shall find her consider¬
ably to the eastward of them ; and every day she re¬
moves to a still greater distance, till in a month she
makes a complete tour of the heavens, and approaches
them from the west. There are eight other stars, be¬
sides, which are continually changing their place ; some¬
times we observe them moving to the westward, some¬
times to the eastward, and sometimes they appear sta¬
tionary for a considerable time. These stars are called
planets. There are other bodies which appear only
occasionally, move for some time with immense celerity,
and afterwards vanish. These bodies are called comets.
But the greater number of the heavenly bodies always
retain nearly the same relative distance from each 0-
ther, and are therefore called fixed stars. It will be
necessary for us to consider the nature and apparent
motions of all these bodies. We shall, therefore, di¬
vide this first part of our treatise, into the following 2s
r Arrange-
I . y-k <r» r-1 o •
1. Of the Sun.
2. Of the Moon.
3. Of the Planets.
4. Of the Comets.
5. Of the Fixed Stars.
6. Of the figure of the Earth.
These topics shall be the subjects of the following
chapters.
Chap.
1 It. Part II.
' : rn
ly. Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodieg.
ASTBONOMY.
Chap. I. Of the Sun.
39
Annual
tnotion of
the sun.
The sun, as the most conspicuous and most important
of all the heavenly bodies, would naturally claim the
first place in the attention of astronomers. According¬
ly its motions were first studied, and they have had con¬
siderable influence on all the other branches of the sci¬
ence. We shall subdivide this part of our subject into
three parts. In the first, we shall give an account of the
apparent motions of the sun ; in the second, we shall
treat of the division of time, which is regulated by these
apparent motions ; and in the third, we shall consider
the figure and structure of the sun, as far as they have
been determined by astronomers. These shall be the
subjects of the following sections.
Sect. I. Apparent Motions of the Sun.
That the sun has a peculiar motion of its own, in¬
dependent of the diurnal motion common to all the
heavenly bodies, and in a direction contrary to that
motion, is easily ascertained, by observing with care
the changes which take place in the starry hemisphere
during a complete year. If we note the time at which
any particular star rises, we shall find that it rises some¬
what sooner every successive day, till at last we lose
it altogether in the west. But if we note it after
the interval of a year, we shall find it rising precisely
at the same hour as at first. Those stars which are
situated nearly in the track of the sun, and which set
soon after him, in a few evenings lose themselves alto¬
gether in his rays, and afterwards make their appear¬
ance in the east before sunrise. The sun then moves
towards them in a direction contrary to his diurnal
motion. It was by observations of this kind that the
ancients ascertained his orbit. But at present this is
done with greater precision, by observing every day the
height of the sun when it reaches the meridian, and the
interval of time which elapses between his passing the
meridian and that of the stars. The first of these ob¬
servations gives us the sun’s daily motion northward or
southward, in the direction of the meridian ; and the
second gives us his motion eastward in the direction of
the parallels ; and by combining the two together, we
obviously obtain his orbit : But it will be necessary to
be somewhat more particular.
These observations cannot be made without drawing
eridiai a a mer*^*an li'ie, or a line, which, if produced, would
Qe. pass through both the poles of the earth, and the spot
where the observer is placed. It is obvious, that such
a line is in the same plane with the meridian as
the heavenly hemisphere. A meridian line may be
found thus: On an horizontal plane describe three or
four concentric circles, as E, G, H, fig. i. Plate LIX.
and in the common centre fix perpendicularly a wire
CB, having a well-defined point. When the sun shines
in the morning, observe where the shadow of the top
of the wire, as CD, touches one of the circles j and
in the afternoon mark where the extremity of the sha¬
dow CF just touches the same circle: then through the
centre C draw the line CE, bisecting the arc DF, and
CE will be a meridian, as required. If the same be
done with as many of the circles as the shining of the
sun will admit of, and the mean of all the bisecting
lines CE be chosen as a meridian, there will be no
40
lethod of
doubt of its accuracy, particularly if the observations Apparent
be made about midsummer, which is the best time. Motions
After a meridian line is thus found, another parallel to oi tbe
it may be readily drawn at any convenient distance :
the method is this : Hang a thread and plummet ex- ^ .
actly over the south end of the known meridian line,
and let another thread and plummet be hung over the
south end of the plane upon which a meridian is to be
drawn j then let a person observe when the shadow of
the thread falls on the given meridian, and immedi¬
ately give a signal to another person, who must at that
moment mark two points on the shadow of the second
thread, through which two points the new meridian
must be described.
The height of the sun from the horizon, when it Altitude of
passes the meridian, or the arch of the meridian between the sun.
the sun and the horizon, is called the sun's altitude. The
ancients ascertained the sun’s altitude in the following
manner : They erected an upright pillar at the south
end of a meridian line, and when the shadow of it exact¬
ly coincided with that line, they accurately measured the
shadow’s length, and then, knowing the height of the
pillar, they found, by an easy operation in plane trigo¬
nometry, the altitude of the sun’s upper limb : whence,
after allowing for the apparent semidiameter, the altitude
of the sun’s centre was known. But the methods now
adopted are much more accurate. In a known latitude,
a large astronomical quadrant, of six, eight, or ten feet
radius, is fixed truly upon the meridian j the limb of
this quadrant is divided into minutes, and smaller sub¬
divisions, by means of a vernier 5 and it is furnished
with a telescope (having cross hairs, &c. turning pro¬
perly upon the centre). By this instrument the altitude
of the sun’s centre is very carefully measured, and the
proper deductions made.
With a similar instrument we may ascertain the ap-Method of
parent motions of the sun in the following manner, be-ascertain-
ginning our observations about the 20th of MarchA0®,1^16
On this day we must note some fixed star which comes
to the meridian exactly at the same time as the sun
does ; for the stars may be seen in the daytime with an
astronomical telescope. On the following day, both
the altitude of the sun, and the situation of the stars
when the sun is on the meridian, must be observed ;
the sun’s- meridian altitude will be about 2A 40" great¬
er than on the former day, and the star will be found
on the meridian about 3 m. 39 sec. in time before the
sun. Make similar observations for a few days, and
it will be found, at the end of a w'eek, that the sun’s
meridian altitude will be increased 2° 46', and the
star will be on the meridian 25 m. 26 sec. in time be¬
fore the sun, or it will be 6° 'li^' westward of the me¬
ridian when the sun is upon it. During this period of
seven days, therefore, the sun has been moving to¬
wards the east, and has increased his altitude by re¬
gular gradations. In fig. 2. let EQ represent a por¬
tion of the equator, QS the meridian on which the.
sun is, QS his altitude above the equator, E the place
of the star, and ES part of the path of the sun : then,
in the spherical triangle EQS, right-angled at Q,
there are given EQ=6° 21^', and QS—2° 46', to find
the angle E. By the rules of spherical trigonometry,
tanert. of SQ ’0483250
we have, tanut. of E—
sine of QE
■1107463
’4364479
'24
Apparent '4364479=rtangt. of 230 34' 43", the angle E re-
Motions quired.
oi tiie^ ’j’jjg or},;t jn which the sun moves is called the
Bodies^ ecliptic. It does not coincide with the equator, but
v  ' cuts it, forming with it an angle, which in the year
43 was determined by Dr Maskelyne, at 230 28' 10",
Ecliptic. or 23°.46944. This angle is called the obliquiUj of the
44 ecliptic.
Seasons ex- The different seasons of the year are occasioned by
plained. j.jTe cora]3ination of this proper motion of the sun with
his diurnal motion. The two points in which the
ecliptic cuts the equator, are called the equinoxes, or
equinoctial points; because on the days that the sun
is in them, he describes by his diurnal motion the
equator, which being divided into two equal parts by
the horizon, the day is then equal to the night in every
part of the earth. One of these equinoxes is called
the vernal, because the sun is in it about the 20th of
March, or the beginning of the spring. As the sun
advances in his orbit from that point, his meridian al¬
titude becomes greater and greater every day. The
visible arches of the parallels which it describes, be¬
come continually greater j and with them the length
of the day increases, till the sun reaches his greatest
altitude, or distance from the equator : then the day
is the longest of the year. And as at that period the va¬
riations in the sun’s altitude are scarcely sensible lor
some time, as far at least as it affects the length of the
day ; the point of the orbit, where the sun’s altitude is
a maximum, has for that reason been called the summer
solstice. The parallel which the sun describes when in
that point, is called the tropic of Cancer. From the sol¬
stice the sun descends again towards the equator, crosses
it again at the autumnal equinox, and goes southward
till its altitude becomes a minimum. This point of the
orbit is called the winter solstice. The day is then the
shortest of the year, and the parallel which the sun de¬
scribes, is called the tropic of Capricorn. From the
winter solstice the sun again approaches the equator,
and returns to the vernal equinox.
Such is the constant course of the sun and of the
seasons. The interval between the vernal equinox and
the summer solstice, is called the spring ; the interval
between this solstice and the autumnal equinox, is called
summer ; that between the autumnal equinox and the
winter solstice, is autumn; and that between this solstice
and the vernal equinox, is winter.
The different altitudes of the pole in different cli¬
mates, occasion remarkable peculiarities in the sea¬
sons, with which it is proper to be acquainted. At
the equator the poles are situated in the horizon, which
last circle cuts all the parallels into two equal parts.
Hence the day and the night are constantly of the
same length all the year round. On the equinoxes the
sun is in the zenith at noon. His altitude is the least
possible at the solstices, and is then equal to the com¬
plement of the inclination of the ecliptic. During the
summer solstice, the shadows of bodies illuminated by
the sun are directed towards the south ; hut they are
directed towards the north at the winter solstice j
changes which never take place in our northern cli¬
mates. Under the equator then there are in reality
two summers and two winters. The same thing takes
place in all countries lying between the tropics. Be¬
yond them there is only one summer and one winter
Part II.
in the year. The sun is never in the zenith. The Apparent
length of the longest day increases, and that of the Motion*
shortest day diminishes, as we advance toward the poles; ol ^
and when the distance between the zenith and the pole
is only equal to the inclination of the ecliptic, the sun y—j
does not set at all on the days of the summer solstice,
nor rise on that of the winter solstice. Still nearer the
pole, the period in which he never sets in summer, and
never rises in winter, gradually increases from a few
days to several months ; and, under the pole itself, the
equator then coinciding with the horizon, the sun never
sets when it is upon the same side of the equator with
the pole, and never rises while it is in the opposite
side. 45
The intervals of time between the equinoxes and no1
solstices are not equal. There are about seven days more
between the vernal and autumnal equinox, than between
the autumnal and vernal. Hence we learn, that the
motion of the sun in its orbit is not uniform. Nume¬
rous observations, made with precision, have ascertained,
that the sun moves fastest in a point of his orbit situ¬
ated near the winter solstice, and slowest in the opposite
point of his orbit near the summer solstice. When in
the first point, the sun moves in 24 hours l°.oi943 ;
in the second point, he moves only 0°.953I9. The
daily motion of the sun is constantly varying in every
place of its orbit, between these two points. The me¬
dium of the two is o°.98632, or 59' n", which is the
daily motion of the sun about the beginning of Octo¬
ber and April. It has been ascertained, that the va¬
riation in the angular velocity of the sun, is very near¬
ly proportional to the mean angular distance of it
from the point of its orbit where its velocity is
greatest. 46
It is natural to think, that the distance of the sun Diameter
from the earth varies as well as its angular velocity.val,cs*
This is demonstrated by measuring the apparent dia¬
meter of the sun. Its diameter increases and diminishes
in the same manner, and at the same time, with its an¬
gular velocity; but in a ratio twice as small. About
the beginning of January, his apparent diameter is about
32' 39'', and at the beginning of July it is about 3 x' 34",
or more exactly, according to De la Place, 32'
I955" *n the first case, and 31' in the se¬
cond. 47
Opticians have demonstrated, that the distance of Sun’s di-
any body is always i-eciprocally as its apparent diame-s}ailoe Ta'
ter. The sun must follow the same law; therefore,ues’
its distance from the earth increases in the same pro¬
portion that its apparent diameter diminishes. That
point of the orbit in which the sun is nearest the earth,
is called perigeon, ox perigee; and the point of the or¬
bit in which that luminary is farthest distant from tire
earth, is called apogee. When the sun is in the first
of these points, his apparent diameter is greatest, and
his motion swiftest; but when he is in the other point,
both his diameter and the rapidity of his motion are
the smallest possible.
From these remarks it is obvious that if the orbit of
the sun be a circle, the earth is not situated in the cen¬
tre of that circle, otherwise the distance of the sun
from the earth would remain always the same, which
is contrary to fact. It is possible therefore, that the
variation in his angular velocity may not be real, but
only apparent. Thus in fig. 3. let AMPN be the
orbit
ASTRONOMY.
Jfrtitt
[<»b»
)l’b«
38 Uliy
!< its,
II.
n not
Part II.
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
orbit of tbe sun, C the centre of that orbit, and E the
position of the earth at some distance from the centre.
It is obvious that P is the sun’s perigee, and A its a-
pogee. Now as the sun’s apparent orbit is a circle hav¬
ing the earth in its centre, it is evident that this orbit
must be AMPN, and that the angular motion of the
sun will be measured upon that circle. Suppose now
that the sun in his apogee moves from A to A', it is
obvious that his apparent or angular motion will be the
segment a d of the apparent orbit, considerably smaller
than AA', so that at the apogee the angular motion
ef the sun will be less than his real motion. A-
gain : let the sun in his perigee move from P to P', de¬
scribing a segment precisely equal to the segment AA'.
This segment as seen from the earth will be refer¬
red to pp\ which in that case will be the sun’s angular
motion, evidently considerably greater than his real
motion.
Hence it is obvious that even on the supposition that
the sun moved equably in his orbit, his angular motion
as seen from the earth would still vary, that is, would
be smallest at the apogee, and greatest at the perigee;
and that the angular and real motion would only coin¬
cide in the points M and N, where the real and appa¬
rent orbits cut each other. From the figure it is obvi¬
ous also, that the angular velocity would increase gra¬
dually from the apogee to the perigee, and diminish
gradually from the perigee to the apogee, which like¬
wise corresponds with observation. Now the line EC,
which is the distance of the earth from the centre of
the sun’s orbit, is called the eccentricity of that orbit.
The variation in the angular motion of the sun may be
48 owing to this eccentricity.
Inn’s mo- But if it were owing to this cause alone, it is easy
L’eter ^ ion varies. t0 demonstrate that in that case the diminution of his
angular velocity would follow the same ratio as the di¬
minution of his diameter. The fact however is, that
the angular velocity diminishes in a ratio twice as great
as the diameter of the sun does. The variation of the
angular velocity cannot then be owing to the eccen¬
tricity alone. Hence it follows, that the variation of
the motion of the sun is not merely apparent, but real j
and that its velocity in its orbit actually diminishes,
as his distance from the earth increases. Two causes
then combine to produce the variation in the sun’s an¬
gular velocity j namely, 1. The increase and diminution
of his distance from the earth j and, 2. The real increase
and diminution of his velocity in proportion to this
variation of distance. These two causes combine in such
a manner that the daily angular motion of the sun di¬
minishes as the square of his distance increases, so that
the product of the angular velocity multiplied into the
square of the distance is a constant quantity. But this
law is so important that it will be necessary to be more
particular.
The observation that the sun’s angular motion in his
orbit is inversely proportional to the square of his dis¬
tance from the earth, was first made by Kepler. The
discovery was made by a careful comparison of the sun’s
diurnal motion with his apparent diameter, which were
found to follow that law j and it is evident that the one
is the angular motion of the sun, and the other his dis¬
tance from the earth, which is inversely proportional
to his apparent diameter. Let ASB (fig. 4.) be the sun’s
orbit, E the earth, and S the sun. Suppose a line ES
Vol. III. Part I. f
25
Apparent
M o tin ns
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
49
the times.
joining the centres of the earth and sun to move round
along with the sun. This line is called the radius vec¬
tor. It is obvious, that when S moves to S', ES,
moving along with it, is now in the situation ES', hav¬
ing described the small sector ESS'. In the same time
that S performs one revolution in its orbit, the radius
vector ES will describe the whole area ABS, enclosed
within the sun’s orbit. Let SS' be the sun’s angular
motion during one day. It is obvious that the small
sector ESS' is proportional to the square of ES, mul¬
tiplied by SS': for the radius vector is the sun’s dis¬
tance from the earth, and SS' his angular motion.
Hence this sector is a constant quantity, whatever the
angular motion of the sun be ; and the whole area Describes
SEA increases as the number of days which the sun areas In¬
takes in moving from S to A. Hence results that re_ pyrtional to
markable law, first pointed out by Kepler, that tJw
areas described by the radius vector are proportional to
the times. Suppose the sun to describe SS' in one day,
and SA in 20 days, then the area SES' is to the area
SEA as 1 to 20 ; or the area SEA is 20 times greater
than the area SES'.
The knowledge of these facts enables us to draw
upon paper, from day to day, lines proportional to tbe
length of the radius vector of the solar orbit, and hav¬
ing the same relative position as these lines. If we
join the extremity of these lines, by making a curve
pass through them, we shall perceive that this curve is
not exactly circular. Let E in fig. 5. represent the
earth, and E a, E E c, E r/, Eyi &c. the position
and length of the radius vector during every day of
the year: if we join together the points o, b, c, c/, e, f
g, h, i, k, l, m, n, 0, by drawing the curve a e im, through
them, it is obvious that this curve is not a circle, but
elongated towards a and i, the points which represent
the sun’s greatest and least distance from the earth. The
resemblance of this curve to the ellipse induced Kep¬
ler to compare them together, and he ascertained their
identity. Hence it follows, that the orbit of the sun
is an ellipse, having the earth in one of its foci. The
centre C of the ellipse is the point where its greater
axis is cut perpendicularly by its smaller axis. The
distance CE, between the earth and that centre, is the
eccentricity of the sun’s orbit. The eccentricity of this
orbit is not great. Let the earth’s mean distance from
the sun be represented by 10,000; it has been ascer¬
tained that the eccentricity is equal to 168 of these
parts. Hence the sun’s orbit does not differ much from
a circle.
To form a precise notion of the elliptical motion of His orbit
the sun, let us suppose a point to move uniformly in thean ellipse*
circumference of a circle, whose centre coincides with
the centre of the earth, and whose radius is equal to the
sun’s distance from the earth when in his perigee. Let
us suppose also, that the sun and the point set out toge¬
ther from the perigee, and that the motion of the point •
is equal to the sun’s mean angular motion. While the
radius vector of the point moves uniformly round the
earth, the radius vector of the sun moves with unequal
velocity, describing always areas proportional to the
times. At first it gets before the radius vector of the
point, and forms with it an angle, which, after hav¬
ing increased till it reached a certain limit, diminishes
again and becomes equal to zero, when the sun is in
apogee ; then the radius vector of the sun and of the
point
50
26
ASTRONOMY.
Part II.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
51
point coincide both with each other, and with the
greater axis of the ellipse. After passing the apogee the
radius vector of the point gets before that of the sun,
and forms with it angles exactly equal to the angles
formed by the same lines in the former half of the el¬
lipse, at the same distance from the perigee. At the
perigee, the radius vector of the sun and of the point
again coincide with each other, and with the greater
axis of the ellipse. The angle which the radius vector
of the sun makes with that of the point, which indi¬
cates how much the one precedes the other, is called
Equation of the equation of the centre. It is always greatest when
the centre the motions of the. point and of the sun are equal, and
explained. ^ vanjsjiesj altogether when there is the greatest differ¬
ence between these motions. The angular motion of
the point is called the mean motion, and that of the
sun the real motion. The place of the point in the or¬
bit is called the mean place. Now, if to the mean
place in the orbit, we add or subtract the equation of
the centre, it is obvious that we have the sun’s real place
for any given time. The angular motion of the point
is known with precision for a given time, a day for in¬
stance, by ascertaining the exaet length of time which
the sun takes in making a complete revolution round
its orbit. For if we ascertain how many days that re¬
volution requires, we have only to divide the whole
orbit by that number to prove the portion of it traversed
by the point in one day. The equation of the centre
can only be found by approximation. Its maximum in
the year 1750 was i0.9268.
In computations we begin always at that part of the
orbit where the motion of the sun is slowest. The di¬
stance of the imaginary point from that part, is called
the mean anomaly. A table is made of the equation of
the centre, corresponding to each degree of the mean
anomaly. By adding or subtracting these equations
from the mean anomaly, we obtain the true anomaly
52 or place of the sun for any given time.
Signs of tie The ecliptic is usually divided, by astronomers, into
rodiac. I2 equal parts, called signs, each of which of course
contains 30 degrees. They are usually called the signs
of the zodiac j and beginning at the equinox, where the
sun intersects and rises above the equator, have these
names and marks: Aries T1, Taurus , Gemini n,
Cancer S5, Leo £k, Virgo v%, Libra =0=, Scorpio rq,,
Sagittarius £ , Capricornus vy, Aquarius zz, Pisces X*
Of these signs, the first six are called northern, lying
on the north side of the equator •, the last six are called
southern, being situated to the south of the equator.
The signs from Capricornus to Gemini are called ascen¬
ding, the sun approaching or rising to the north pole
while it passes through them ; and the signs from Can¬
cer to Sagittarius are called descending, the sun, as it
moves through them, receding or descending from the
north pole.
The longitude of the sun is his distance in the eclip¬
tic from the first point of Aries. His right ascension
is the arch of the equator intercepted between the first
point of Aries, and the meridian circle which passes
through his longitude. The distance of the sun from
the equator, measured upon a meridian circle, is called
his declination, and it is either north or south according
,, to the situation of the sun.
Orbit varies It has been observed that the position of the larger
in position, axis of the elliptical orbit of the sun, is not constant.
2
The angular distance of the perigee from the vernal Apparent
equinox, counted according to the sun’s movement, was Motion*
278°.621l at the beginning of 17505 but it has, rela- °j the
tive to the stars, an annual motion of about iiVSp in Bodies/
the same direction as the sun. i -
The orbit of the sun is gradually approaching to the
equator. Its obliquity diminishes in a century at the
rate of about i".50.
The precision of modern astronomers has enabled
them to ascertain small irregularities in the sun’s ellip¬
tical motion, which observation alone would scarcely
have been able to bring under precise laws. These ir¬
regularities will be considered afterwards. 54
To determine the distance of the sun from the earth, Distance 0!
has always been an interesting problem to astronomers, the 5Un*
and they have tried every method which astronomy or
geometry possesses in order to resolve it. The amplest
and most natural, is that which mathematicians employ
to measure distant terrestrial objects. From the two
extremities of a base whose length is known, the angles
which the visual rays from the object, whose distance
is to be measured, make with the base, are measured by
means of a quadrant 5 their sum subtracted from 180°,
give the angle which these rays form at the object
where they intersect. This angle is called the paral¬
lax, and when it is once known, it is easy, by means oi
trigonometry, to ascertain the distance of the object.
Let AB, in fig. 6. be the given base, and C the object
whose distance we wish to ascertain. The angles CAB
and CBA, formed by the rays CA and CB with the
base, may be ascertained by observation 5 and their sum
subtracted from 1800 leaves tbe angle ACB, which is
the parallax of the object C. It gives us the apparent
size of the base AB as seen from C.
When this method is applied to the sun, it is neces¬
sary to have the largest possible base. Let us suppose
two observers on the same meridian, observing at the
same instant the meridian altitude ol the centre o{ the
sun, and his distance from the same pole. The dif¬
ference of the two distances observed, will be the an¬
gle under which the line which separates the observers
will be seen from the centre of the sun. The position
of the observers gives this line in parts of the earth’s
radius. Hence, it is easy to determine, by observation,
the angle at which the semidiameter of the earth would
be seen from the centre of the sun. This angle is the
sun’s parallax. But it is too small to be determined
with precision by that method. We can only conclude
from it, that the sun’s distance from the earth is at least
equal to 10,000 diameters of the earth. We shall find
afterwards, that other methods have been discovered
for finding the parallax with much greater precision.
It amounts very nearly to 8".8 : hence it follows, that
the distance of the sun from the earth amounts t'J
23,405 semi-diameters of the earth.
Sect. II. Of the Division of Time.
Motion is peculiarly adapted for measuring time.
For, as a body cannot be in different places in the same
time, it can only arrive from one part to another, by
passing successively through all the intermediate spaces.
And if it be possible to ascertain, that in every point
of the line which it describes it is actuated by the very
same force, we can conclude with confidence, that it
will
II.
ran
oni
{he
en!y
TtS.
Cl Of
1.
Part II
Apparent describe the line with a uniform motion. Of course
Motions the different parts of the line will be a measure of the
of the time employed to traverse them. When a pendulum
I at ^ end of every oscillation is precisely in the same
'(UyUr . circumstances, the length of the oscillations is the same,
and time may be measured by their number. We
might employ also, for the same purpose, the revolutions
of the heavenly sphere, which appear perfectly uniform.
But all nations have agreed to employ the revolutions of
55 the sun for that purpose.
kstronomi- In common language, the day is the interval of time
ral which elapses from the rising to the setting of the sun;
the night is the interval that the sun continues below
the horizon. The astronomical day embraces the whole
interval which passes during a complete revolution of
the sun. It is the interval of time which passes from
112 o’clock at noon, till the next succeeding noon. It
begins when the sun’s centre is on the meridian of that
place. It is divided into 24 hours, reckoning in a
numerical succession from I to 24: the first x 2 are some¬
times distinguished by the mark P. M. signifying post
meridiem, or after noon ; and the latter 12 are marked
A. M. signifying ante meridiem, or before noon. But
astronomers generally reckon through the 24 hours,
from noon to noon ; and what are by the civil or com¬
mon way ot reckoning, called morning hours, are by
astronomers reckoned in the succession from 12, or mid¬
night, to 24 hours. Thus 9 o’clock in the morning of
February 14th, is, by astronomers, called February the
^6 13th at 21 hours.
Indereal An astronomical day is somewhat greater than a
5ay* complete revolution of the heavens, which forms & side¬
real day. For if the sun cross the meridian at the same
instant with a star, the day following it will come to
the meridian somewhat later than the star, in conse¬
quence of its motion eastward, which causes it to leave
the star; and after a whole year has elapsed, it will
have crossed the meridian just one time less than the
star. A sidereal day is less than the solar day, for it is
measured by 360°, whereas the mean solar day is mea¬
sured by 360° 59' 8" nearly.. If an astronomical day
be —1, then a sidereal day 13 = 0.997269722 5 or the
difference between the measures of a mean solar day,
and a sidereal day, viz. 59' 8", reduced to time, at the
rate of 24 hours to 360°, gives 3' 56" j from which we
learn that a star which was on the meridian with the
sun on one noon, will return to that meridian 3' <;6" pre¬
vious to the next noon: therefore, a clock which mea-
Isures mean days by 24 hours, will give 23 h. 56 m. 4
eec. for the length of a sidereal day,
lays vary Astronomical or solar days, as they are also called,
a length, are not equal. Two causes conspire to produce their
inequality, namely, the unequal velocity of the sun in
his orbit, and the obliquity of the ecliptic. The effect
of the first cause is sensible. At the summer solstice,
when the sun’s motion is slowest, the astronomical day
approaches nearer the sidereal, than at the winter sol¬
stice when his motion is most rapid.
lo conceive the effect of the second cause, it is ne¬
cessary to recollect that the excess of the astronomical
day above the sidereal is owing to the motion of the
sun, referred to the equator. The sun describes every
day a small arch of the ecliptic. Through the extre¬
mities of this arch suppose two meridian great circles
drawn, the arc of the equator, which they intercept,
27
is the sun’s motion for that day referred to the equator} Apparent
and the time which that arc takes to pass the meridian Motions
is equal to the excess of the astronomical day above the of the
sidereal. But it is obvious, that at the equinoxes, the
arc of the equator is smaller than the corresponding arc 1 ^ .
of the eclptic in the proportion of the cosine of the ob¬
liquity of the ecliptic to radius : at the solstices, on the
contrary, it is greater in the proportion of radius to the
cosine of the same obliquity. The astronomical day is
diminished in the first case, and lengthened in the se-
“nf 1 . 5S
lo have a mean astronomical day, independent ofMean as-
these causes of inequality, astronomers have supposed atron6mical
second sun to move uniformly on the ecliptic, and to<]ay‘
pass over the extremities of the axis of the sun’s orbit, at
the same instant with the real sun. This removes the
inequality arising from the inequality of the sun’s mo¬
tion. To remove the inequality arising from the obli¬
quity of the ecliptic, astronomers suppose a third sun pas¬
sing through the equinoxes at the same instant with the
second sun, and moving along the equator in such a
manner that the angular distances of the two suns at the
vernal equinox shall be always equal. The interval be¬
tween two consecutive returns of this third sun to the
meridian forms the mean astronomical day. Mean time
is measured by the number of the returns of this third
sun to the meridian } and true time is measured by the
returns of the real sun to the meridian. The arc of the
equator, intercepted between two meridian circles drawn
through the centres of the true sun, and the imaginary
third sun, reduced to time, is what is called the equa¬
tion of time. This will be rendered plainer by the fol¬
lowing diagram.
Let ZT'ZrO. (fig. 7.") be the earth} ZFRa its axis5
abode, &c. the equator} ABCDE, &c. the northern
half of the ecliptic from to on the side of the
globe next the eye} and MNOP, &c. the southern half
on the opposite side from W to ey>. Let the points at
A, .B, C, D, E, F, &c. quite round from <y> to
again Found equal portions of the ecliptic, gone
through in equal times by the real sun } and those at
a, b, c, d, e, f &c. equal portions of the equator de¬
scribed in equal times by the fictitious sun ; and let
Zqpss he the meridian.
As the real sun moves obliquely in the ecliptic, and
the fictitious sun directly in the equator, with respect
to the meridian ; a degree, or any number of degrees,
between 'Y’ and F on the ecliptic, must be nearer the
meridian Z*Y’«, than a degree, or any corresponding
number of degrees, on the equator from to f; and
the more so, as they are the more oblique : and there¬
fore the true sun comes sooner to the meridian every
day whilst he is in the quadrant <y F, than the ficti¬
tious sun does in the quadrant qp f $ for which reason,
the solar noon precedes noon by the clock, until the
real sun comes to F, and the fictitious to f; which two
points, being equidistant from the meridian, both suns
will come to it precisely at noon by the clock.
Whilst the real sun describes the second quadrant of
the ecliptic FGHIKL from Cancer to he comes
later to the meridian every day than the fictitious sun
moving through the second quadrant of the equator
from / to set; for the points at G, H, I, K, and L,
being farther from the meridian, their corresponding
points at g, h, i, and /, must be later of coming to it;
Da and
ASTRONOMY.
28
ASTRONOMY.
Part II
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Apparent an^ as both suns come at the same moment to the point
Motions W, they come to the meridian at the moment of noon
by the clock.
In departing from Libra, through the third qua-
i drant, the real sun going through MNOPQ towards
Vj at R, and the fictitious sun through mnopq to¬
wards r, the former comes to the meridian every day
sooner than the latter, until the real sun comes to ©,
and the fictitious to r, and then they come both to the
meridian at the same time.
Lastly, As the real sun moves equably through
STUVW, from 0 towards Ti ; and the fictitious sun
through s t u v w, from r towards ‘Y’, the former comes
later every day to the meridian than the latter, until
they both arrive at the point fy, and then they make it
noon at the same time with the clock.
Having explained one cause of the difference of time
shown by a well-regulated clock and a true sun-dial,
supposing the sun, not the earth, as moving in the
ecliptic } we now proceed to explain the other cause of
this difference, namely, the inequality of the sun’s ap¬
parent motion ; which is slowest in summer, when the
sun is farthest from the earth, and swiftest in winter
when he is nearest to it.
If the sun’s motion were equable in the ecliptic, the
whole difference between the equal time as shown by
the clock, and the unequal time as shown by the sun,
would arise from the obliquity of the ecliptic. But the
sun’s motion sometimes exceeds a degree in 24 hours,
though generally it is less : and when his motion is
slowest, any particular meridian will revolve sooner to
him than when his motion is quickest; for it will over¬
take him in less time when he advances a less space than
when he moves through a larger.
Now, if there were two suns moving in the plane of
the ecliptic, so as to go round it in a year 5 the one
describing an equal arc every 24 hours, and the other
describing sometimes a less arc in 24 hours, and at
other times a larger, gaining at one time of the year
what it lost at the opposite ) it is evident, that either
of these suns would come sooner or later to the meri¬
dian than the other, as it happened to be behind or
before the other •, and when they were both in con¬
junction, they would come to the meridian at the same
moment.
.As the real sun moves unequably in the ecliptic, let
us suppose a fictitious sun to move equably in a circle
coincident with the plane of the ecliptic. Let ABCD
(fig. 8.) be the ecliptic or orbit in which the real sun
moves, and the dotted circle abed the imaginary or¬
bit of the fictitious sun } each going round in a year
according to the order of letters, or from west to east.
Let HIKL be the earth turning round its axis the
same way every 24 hours ; and suppose both suns to
start from A and a, in a right line with the plane of the
meridian EH, at the same moment: the real sun at A,
being then at his greatest distance from the earth, at
which time his motion is slowest j and the fictitious
sun at a, whose motion is always equable, because his
distance from the earth is supposed to he always the
same. In the time that the meridian revolves from
H to H again, according to the order of the letters
HIKL, the real sun has moved from A to F j and the
fictitious with a quicker motion from n to f, through a
large arc : therefore, the meridian EH will revolve
3.
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
—y—
sooner from H to h under the real sun at F, than from Apparent
HE to k under the fictitious sun at and consequent- Motions
ly it will then be noon by the sun-dial sooner than by
the clock.
As the real sun moves from A towards C, the swift- t
ness of his motion increases all the way to C, where it
is at the quickest. But notwithstanding this, the fic¬
titious sun gains so much upon the real, soon after his
departing from A, that the increasing velocity of the
real sun does not bring him up with the equally-moving
fictitious sun till the former comes to C, and the latter
to c, when each has gone half round its respective or¬
bit j and then being in conjunction, the meridian EH,
revolving to EK, comes to both suns at the same time,
and therefore it is noon by them both at the same mo¬
ment.
But the increased velocity of the real sun now being
at the quickest, carries him before the fictitious one j
and therefore, the same meridian will come to the ficti¬
tious sun sooner than to the real: for whilst the ficti¬
tious sun moves from a to g, the real sun moves through
a greater arc from C to G: consequently the point K
has its noon by the clock when it comes to k, but not
its noon by the sun till it comes to /. And although,
the velocity of the real sun diminishes all the way from
C to A, and the fictitious sun by an equable motion
is still coming nearer to the real sun, yet they are not
in conjunction till the one comes to A and the other to
o, and then it is noon by them both at the same mo¬
ment.
True time is obtained by adding or subtracting this
equation to the mean time. The mean and apparent
solar days are never equal, except when the sun’s daily
motion in right ascension is 59' 8" j this is nearly the
case about April 15th, June 15th, September 1st, and
December 24th : on these days the equation is nothing,
or nearly so ; it is at the greatest about November 1st,
when it is 16 m. 14 sec.
The return of the sun to the same equinox marks the Year
years, in the same way as his return to the same meri¬
dian indicates the days. It has been ascertained, that
before the sun returns again to the same equinox, an in¬
terval oi’365.242222 days elapses, or 365 days, 5 hours,
48 minutes, and 47 seconds. This is called the tropi¬
cal year : The sun takes a larger interval of time to re¬
turn again to the same star. The sidereal year is the
interval which the sun employs to return from one star
to another. It is greater than the tropical year by
0.014162 days, or 20 m. 23 sec.; therefore the length
of the sidereal year is 365 days, 6 h. 9 m. and 10 sec.
From this it follows, that the equinoxes do not retain
the same place in the ecliptic, but that they have a re¬
trograde motion, or contrary to that of the sun, in con¬
sequence of which they describe every year an arc equal
to the mean space which the sun passes over in 20' 23*,
or about 50" j so that they would make a complete re¬
volution in 25972 years. This is called \\\e precession
of the equinoxes.
Dr Maskelyne has invented a rule for computing Method of
the equation of time, in which the precession of the c°mputing
equinoxes, as well as the two causes mentioned above,
are included. Let APLQ, fig. 9. be the ecliptic, tjuje<
ALQ the equator, A the first point of Aries, P the
point where the sun’s apparent motion is slowest, S
any place of the sun j draw S v perpendicular to the
equator,
59
60
iiirtiit
ionj
tltlie
Apparent
Motions
of the
^'“^iHeavenly
Bodies.
-)r—r 
IlKrt n.
ASTRONOMY.
)d of
iting
[ua-
f
11 A
%m A a
12
equator, and take A «=:AP. Wlien the sun begins
to move from P, suppose a star to begin to move from
with the sun’s mean motion in right ascension or
longitude, viz. at the rate of 59' 8" in a day, and
1 when n passes the meridian let the clock be adjusted
to 12. Take n m~V s, and when the star comes to m,
if the sun moved uniformly with his mean motion, he
would be found at s; but at that time let S be the
place of the sun. Let the sun S, and consequently v,
be on the meridian j and then as m is the place of the
imaginary star at that instant, m v must be the equa¬
tion of time. The sun’s mean place is at s, and as
Anr=AP, and 71 m—J3 s, we have ArarrAP .9, con¬
sequently mv—Pi.v—k?n—A.v—APs. Let a be the
mean equinox, or the point where it would have been
if it had moved with its mean velocity, and draw a %
perpendicular to AQ ; then Am=:A.'z-\-X7n=:
Aa x cosiness A0+a m: or because the cosine of
» A a the obliquity of the ecliptic, 230 28', is rz—
very nearly, A?w=:-^A a xm : hence mvzzA v—
Here Av is the sun’s true right as¬
cension, % m the mean right ascension or mean longi¬
tude } and — A o (viz. A at) is the equation of the
equinoxes in right ascension ; therefore the equation of
time is equal to the difi’erence of the sun’s true right
ascension and his mean longitude, corrected by the equa*
tion of the equinoxes in right ascension.—When A 7n
is less than A t;, mean or true time precedes apparent j
when it is greater, apparent time precedes mean. That
is, when the sun’s true right ascension is greater than
his mean longitude corrected as above shewn, wTe must
add the equation of time to the apparent to obtain the
mean time ; and when it is less, we must subtract. To
convert mean time into apparent, we must subtract in
the former case, and add in the latter.
Tables of the equation of time are computed by this
rule, for the use of astronomers : they are either calcu¬
lated for the noon of each day, as given in the Nautical
and some other almanacks j or for every degree of the
sun’s place in the ecliptic. But a table of this kind will
not answer accurately for many years, on account of the
precession and other causes, which render a frequent
revisal of the calculations necessary.
The smaller divisions of time were anciently mea¬
sured by the phases of the moon. It is well known
that the moon changes once every 29 or 30 days, and
that the interval from one new moon to another is call¬
ed a lunation, or, in common language, a month. There
are about twelve lunations in a year. .Hence the year
was divided into twelve months. In ancient times
people were placed upon eminences on purpose to watch
the first appearance of the new moon, when their month
began. It was customary for these persons to proclaim
the first appearance of the moon. Hence the first day
of every month was called Calenclce ; from which term
the Avoid calendar is derived. Almost all nations have
divided the year into twelve months, because the seasons
neatly return in that period. But they soon perceived
that twelve lunar months were far from making a com¬
plete year or revolution of the sun. They were anxi-
29
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
ons, however, to be able to divide the solar year into Apparent
a precise number of lunar months, because many of Motion*
the feasts depended upon particular new moons. Va-
rious contrivances were fallen upon for this purpose
without much success, till at last Melon, a Greek phi¬
losopher, announced that 19 years contained exactly
235 lunations : an affirmation which is within
hours of being exact. To make every year correspond
as nearly as possible to the lunar, he divided the year
into 12 months, consisting alternately of 30 and 29
days each \ at the end of every three years an interca¬
lary month of 30 days was added, and at the end of the
19th year there was added an intercalary month of 29
days. So that at the end of 19 years the solar and lu¬
nar years began again on the same day their cycle ofi9
years. This discovery of Melon appeared so admi¬
rable to the Greeks, that they engraved it in letters of
gold in their public places. Hence the number which
denotes the current year of that cycle is denominated
golden number.
As the moon changes its appearance in a very re¬
markable degree every seven days, almost all nations
have subdivided the month into periods of seven days,
called weeks ; the ancient Greeks were almost the only
people who did not employ that division. ^
The Roman year in the time of Romulus consisted Romun
of 10 months only, of 30 or 31 days each, so that its year,
length was 304 days only. Numa added 50 days to
that year, and thus made it 354 days ; and he added
two additional months of 29 and 28 days by shortening
some of the ancient months. He made the year com¬
mence on the first of January. Numa’s year was still
more than n days shorter than a complete revolution
of the sun. To make it correspond with the seasons, it
was necessary to intercalate three days j and these in¬
tercalations being left entirely to the priests, were con¬
verted into a state engine 5 being omitted, inserted, al¬
tered, and varied, as it suited the purposes of those ma¬
gistrates whose views they favoured. The consequence
was, what might have been expected, the most complete
confusion and want of correspondence between the year
and the seasons.
Julius Caesar undertook to remedy this inconvenience,
He was both dictator and high pontiff, and of course the^ Juipfs
reformation of the calendar was his peculiar province. Ciesar,
1 hat the undertaking might be properly executed, he
invited Sosigenes, an Egyptian mathematician, to come
to his assistance. It was agreed upon to abandon the
motions of the moon altogether, and to make the year
correspond with those of the sun.
The reformation was made in the year 47 before the
Christian era. Ninety days were added to that year,
which ivas from that circumstance called the year of
confusion, consisting of 445 days. Instead of 354 days,
the year of Numa, Sosigenes made the year to consist
365 days, dispersing the additional days among
those months Avhich had only 29 days. As the revo¬
lution of the sun employs nearly six hours more than
365 days, an additional day was intercalated every
fourth year, so that every such year Avas to consist of
366 days. The additional day was inserted after the
23d of February, or the 7th before the calends of
March 5 the day before the annual feast celebrated in
commemoration of the flight of Tarquin from Rome.
That feast Avas held the 6th before the calends of March.
The.-
3© ASTRO
Apparent The intercalated day was also called the 6th before the
Motions calends of March. So that every fourth year there
of the were two days denominated the 6th before the calends
^Bodies^ ^arc^' Hence that year was called bissextile. In
i  , Britain it is denominated leap year. After the death
of Julius Caesar there was a degree of confusion re¬
specting the intercalations, from the ignorance of the
priests. Augustus corrected the mistake, and after
that time the Julian period went on without any inter¬
ruption.
It is obvious that the Julian year, though a great
improvement upon the ancient Roman, was still imper¬
fect. It went on the supposition that the revolution of
the sun occupied precisely 365 days and 6 hours, which
is about ii minutes more than the truth. This error
in the interval which elapsed between the reformation
of Julius Caesar and the year 1582, had accumulated
till it amounted to 10 days ; of course the year began
10 days later than it ought to have begun j and the
same error had taken place respecting the seasons and
the equinoctial points. Various attempts had been
64 made to correct this error; at last it was corrected by
ami by Pope Gregory XIII. The Gregorian calendar com-
Gregoiy menced in the vear 1582 j the changes which he intro¬
duced were two in number. He ordered, that after
the 4th of October 1582, ten days should be omitted,
so that the day which succeeded the 4th wTas reckoned
not the yth but the 15th of the month. This correct¬
ed the error which had crept into the Julian year. To
prevent any such error from accumulating again, he
ordered that the secular years 1700, 1800, 1900, should
not be bissextile but common years ; that the secular
year 2000 should be bissextile, the next three secular
years common, the fourth again bissextile, and so on,
as in the following table.
1600 bissextile.
1700 common.
1800 ib.
1900 ib.
2000 bissextile.
2100 common. 2600 common.
2200 ib. 2700 ib.
2300 ib. 2800 bissextile.
2400 bissextile. 2900 common.
2500 common. 3000 ib.
In short these secular years only are bissextile whose
number, omitting the cyphers, is divisible by 4.
The Gregorian calendar is sufficiently exact for the
purposes of common life, though it does not correspond
precisely with the revolution of the sun. The error
will amount to a day in 3600 years, so that in the year
5200 it will be necessary to omit the additional day
which ought to be added according to the rule laid
down above.
The Gregorian calendar was immediately adopted
by all the Roman Catholic kingdoms in Europe, but
the Protestant states refused at first to accede to it. It
was adopted by most of them on the continent about
the beginning of the 18th century'; hut in England
the change did not take place till 1752. From that
year 11 days were omitted; the omission of the addi¬
tional day in 1700 having made the difference between
the Julian and Gregorian calendar amount to 11 days.
The Julian calendar is called the old style, the Grego¬
rian, the new style. At present the difference between
them is 12 days, in consequence of the omission of the
additional day in 1800.
N 0 M Y.
Part II ’a
Sect. III.
Appsiren
Motions
of the
Heaven I
Bodies.
5;
Of the Nature of the Sun.
The smallness of the sun’s parallax is a demonstra¬
tion of its immense size. We are certain that at the
distance at which the sun appears to us under an angle
of o°.53424, the earth would be seen under an angle
not exceeding o°.oo9. Now, as the sun is obviously
a spherical body as well as the earth ; and as spheres
are to each other as the cubes of their diameters, it
follows from this, that the sun is at least 200,000 times
bigger than the earth. By the exactest observations it
has been ascertained, that the diameter of the sun is
nearly 883,000 miles.
Dark spots are very frequently observed upon the
surface of the sun. These were entirely unknown be¬
fore the invention of telescopes, though they are some¬
times of sufficient magnitude to be discerned by the
naked eye, only looking through a smoked glass to pre¬
vent the brightness of the luminary from destroying the
sight. The spots are said to have been first discovered Solar spot
in the year 1611 ; and the honour of the discovery is when first
disputed betwixt Galileo and Scheiner, a German Jesuit^lsC0Yeie(
at Ingolstadt. But whatever merit Scheiner might have
in the priority of the discovery, it is certain that Gali¬
leo far exceeded him in accuracy, though the work of
Scheiner has considerable merit, as containing observa¬
tions selected from above 3000, made by himself. Since
his time the subject has been carefully studied by all the
astronomers in Europe. ^
There is great variety in the magnitudes of the pr £ong>
solar spots; the difference is chiefly in superficial ex-account 0
tent of length and breadth; their depth or thickness them,
is very small; some have been so large, as by compu¬
tation to be capable of covering the continents of Asia
and Africa ; nay, the whole surface of the earth, or
even five times its surface. The diameter of a spot,
when near the middle of the disk, is measured by com¬
paring the time it takes in passing over a cross hair in
a telescope, with the time wherein the whole disk of
the sun passes over the same hair; it may also be mea¬
sured by the micrometer ; and by either of these me¬
thods we may judge how many times the diameter of
the spot is contained in the diameter of the sun. Spots
are subject to increase and diminution of magnitude,
and seldom continue long in the same state. They are
of various shapes ; most of them having a deep black
nucleus surrounded by a dusky cloud, whereof the in¬
ner parts near the black are a little brighter than the
outskirts. They change their shapes, something in the
manner that our clouds do ; though not often so sud¬
denly ; thus, what is of a certain figure to-day, shall
to-morrow, or perhaps in a few hours, be of a different
one ; what is now but one spot, shall in a little time
he broken into two or three ; and sometimes two or
three spots shall coalesce, and be united into one. Dr
Long, many years since, while he was viewing the
image of the sun through a telescope cast upon white
paper, saw one roundish spot, by estimation not much
less than the diameter of our earth, break into two,
which receded from one another with prodigious velo¬
city. This observation was singular at the time ; for
though several writers had taken notice of this after it
was done, none of them had been making any observa¬
tion at the time it was actually doing.
|k
lOtl
r
}
The
tl
rr'^l;
’art II.
A S T R
apparent num^ei‘ of spots on the sun is very uncertain j
Motions sometimes there are a great many, sometimes very few j
of the and sometimes none at all. Schemer made observa-
ieavenly tions on the sun from 1611 to 16295 and says he ne-
IBodies. vef f0Linf] ]ts qL1Jte free 0f spots, excepting a few
days in December 1624. At other times he frequent¬
ly saw 20, 30, ami in the year 1625 he was aide to
count 50 spots on the sun at a time. In an interval af¬
terwards of 20 years, from 1650 to 1670, scarce any
spots were to be seen, and since that time some years
have furnished a great number of spots, and others
none at all 5 but since the beginning of the last century,
not a year passed wherein some were not seen j and at
present, says Mr Cassini, in his Elemens cVAstronomic
published in 1740, they are so frequent, that the sun
is seldom without spots, and often shows a good number
of them at a time.
From these phenomena, it is evident, that the spots
are not endowed with any permanency ; nor are they
at all regular in their shape, magnitude, number, or
in the time of their appearance or continuance. He-
velius observed one that arose and vanished in 16 or
17 hours j nor has any been observed to continue
longer than 70 days, which was the duration of one in
the year 1676. Those spots that are formed gradually,
are gradually dissolved ; while those that arise sudden¬
ly, are for the most part suddenly dissolved. When a
spot disappears, that part where it was generally be¬
comes brighter than the rest of the sun, and continues so
for several days : on the other hand, those bright parts
(called faculce, as the others are called macnlcc) some¬
times turn to spots.
The solar spots appear to have a motion which
>ts move carr‘es them across the sun’s disk. Every spot, if it
m west continues long enough without being dissolved, appears
east. to enter the sun’s disk on the east side, to go from
thence with the velocity continually increasing till it has
gone half its way 5 and then to move slower and slower,
till it goes off at the west side ; after which it disap¬
pears for about the same space of time that it spent in
crossing the disk, and then enters upon the east side
again, nearly in the same place, and crosses it in the
same track, and with the same unequal motion as before.
This apparent inequality in the motion of the spots is
purely optical, and is in such proportion as demonstrates
them to be carried round equably or in a circle, the
plane of which continued passes through or near the eye
of a spectator upon the earth.
Besides the real changes of the spots already men¬
tioned, there is another which is purely optical, and is
owing to their being seen on a globe differently turned
towards us. If we imagine the globe of the sun to
have a number of circles drawn upon its surface, all
passing through the poles, and cutting his equator at
equal distances, these circles which we may call meri¬
dians, if they were visible, would appear to us at un¬
equal distances, as in fig. 2. Now, suppose a spot
were round, and so large as to reach from one meri¬
dian to another, it would appear round only at g-, when
it was in the middle of that half of the globe which is
towards our earth 5 for then we view the full extent of
it in length and breadth : in every other place it turns
away from us, and appears narrower, though of the
same length, the farther it is from the middle j and on
67
e solar
O N O M Y.
its coming on at 0, and going off at », it appears as Apparent
small as a thread, the thin edge being then all that we Motions
see. of tfie
These spots have made us acquainted with a very
important phenomenon, namely the rotation of the sun . ^ .
upon its axis. Amidst the changes which these spots
are continually undergoing, regular motions may be
detected, agreeing exactly with the motion of the sur¬
face of the sun, on the supposition that this luminary
revolves round an axis almost perpendicular to the
ecliptic in the same direction with its motion in its or¬
bit round the earth. By a careful examination of the
motion of these spots, it has been ascertained that the
sun turns round its axis in about 25 days and a half,
and that its equator is inclined to the ecliptic about
70;5;
The spots on the sun’s disk are almost always con¬
fined to a zone, extending about 30°.5 on each side
of the equator. Sometimes, however, they have been
observed at the distance of 39°.5 from the equator of
the sun.
Bouguer demonstrated, by a number of curious ex¬
periments on the sun’s light, that the intensity of the
light is much greater toward the centre of the sun’s
disk than towards its circumference. Now, when a
portion of the sun’s surface is transported by the rota¬
tion of that luminary from the centre to the circumfe¬
rence of his disk, as it is seen under a smaller angle, the
intensity of its light, instead of diminishing, ought to
increase. Hence it follows, that part of the light
which issues from the sun towards the circumference of
his disk, must be somehow or other prevented from
making its way to the earth. This cannot be account¬
ed for, without supposing that the sun is surrounded by
a dense atmosphere, which, being traversed obliquely
by the rays from the circumference, intercepts more
ol them than of those from the centre which pass it per¬
pendicularly. 6g
The phenomena of the solar spots, as delivered by Account of
Scheiner and Hevelius, may be summed up in thetliephe-
following particulars. 1. Every spot which hath a nymena by
nucleus, or considerably dark part, hath also an umbra, ^^^ers,
or fainter shade, surrounding it. 2. The boundary
between the nucleus and umbra is always distinct and
well defined. 3. The increase of a spot is gradual, the
breadth of the nucleus and umbra dilating at the same
time. 4. In like manner, the decrease of a spot is gra¬
dual, the breadth of the nucleus and umbra contracting
at the same time. 5. The exterior boundary of the
umbra never consists of sharp angles 5 but is always
curvilinear, how irregular soever the outline of the nu¬
cleus may be. 6. The nucleus of a spot, whilst on
the decrease, often changes its figure by the umbra
encroaching irregularly upon it, insomuch that in a
small space of time new encroachments are discernible,
wiiereby the boundary between the nucleus and um¬
bra is perpetually varying. 7. It often happens, by
these encroachments, that the nucleus of a spot is di¬
vided into two or more nuclei. 8. The nuclei of the
spots vanish sooner than the umbra. 9. Small umbrae
are often seen without nuclei. 10. An umbra of any
considerable size is seldom seen without a nucleus in the
middle of it. 11. When a spot which consisted of a
nucleus and umbra is about to disappear, if it is not sue-
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
32 ASTRO
Apparent ceeded by a facula, or spot brighter than the rest of
Motions the disk, the place where it was is soon after not di¬
stinguishable from the rest.
In the Philosophical Transactions, vol. Ixiv. Dr
Wilson, professor of astronomy at Glasgow, hath given
a dissertation on the nature of the solar spots, and men¬
tions the following appearances. 1. When the spot is
about to disappear on the western edge of the sun’s limb,
the eastern part of the umbra first contracts, then va¬
nishes, the nucleus and western part of the umbra re¬
maining ; then the nucleus gradually contracts and va¬
nishes, while the western part of the umbra remains.
At last this disappears also} and if the spot remains
long enough to become again visible, the eastern part
of the umbra first becomes visible, then the nucleus 5
and when the spot approaches the middle of the disk,
the nucleus appears environed by the umbra on all
sides, as already mentioned. 2. When two spots lie
very near to one another, the umbra is deficient on that
side which lies next to the other spot: and this will he
the case, though a large spot should be contiguous to
one much smaller j the umbra of the large spot will be
totally wanting on that side next the small one. If there
are little spots on each side of the large one, the umbra
does not totally vanish 5 but appears flattened or pressed
in towards the nucleus on each side. When the little
spots disappear, the umbra of the large one extends it¬
self as usual. This circumstance, he observes, may
sometimes prevent the disappeai’ance of the umbra in
the manner above mentioned j so that the western
umbra may disappear before the nucleus, if a small spot
happens to break out on that side.
In the same volume, p. 337. Mr Wollaston observes,
that the appearances mentioned by Dr Wilson are not
constant. He positively affirms, that the faculae or
bright spots on the sun are often converted into dark
ones. “ I have many times (says he) observed, near
the eastern limb, a bright facula just come on, which
has the next day shown itself as a spot, though I do
not recollect to have seen such a facula near the western
one after a spot’s disappearance. Yet, I believe, both
these circumstances have been observed by others; and
perhaps not only near the limbs. The circumstance
of the faculse being converted into spots, I think I may
be sure of. That there is generally (perhaps always)
a mottled appearance over the face of the sun, when
carefully attended to, I think I may be as certain. It
is most visible towards the limbs, but I have undoubt¬
edly seen it in the centre; yet I do not recollect to
have observed this appearance, or indeed any spots, to¬
wards the poles. Once I saw, with a twelve inch re¬
flector, a spot burst to pieces while I was looking at it.
I could not expect such an event, and therefore cannot
be certain of the exact particulars ; but the appearance,
as it struck me at the time, was like that of a piece of
ice when dashed on a frozen pond, which breaks to
pieces and slides in various directions.” He also ac¬
quaints us, that the nuclei of the spots are not always
in the middle of the umbrae ; and gives the figure of one
seen in November 13th I773> which is a remarkable in-
Mr Dunns stance t0 t]le contrary. Mr Dunn, however, in his new
Atlas or the Mundane bystem, gives some particulars
very different from the above. “ The face of the sun
(says he) has frequently many large black spots, of
various forms and dimensions, which move from east to
N O M Y.
Part I
69
west, and round the sun, according to some observa- Apparen Ap
Motions
of the
70
pci
tions in 25 days, according to others in 26, and accord¬
ing to some in 27 days. The black or central part of
each spot is in the middle of a great number of very *3
small ones, which permit the light to pass between
them. The small spots are scarce ever in contact with
the central ones: but, what is most remarkable, when
the whole spot is near the limb of the sun, the sur¬
rounding small ones form nearly a straight line, and
the central part projects a little over it, like Saturn in
his ring.”
Dr Herschel, with a view of ascertaining more ac-Herschel
curately the nature of the sun, made frequent observa-°.bserva'
tions upon it from the year 1779 to the year 1794.tlons’
He imagines that the dark spots on the sun are moun¬
tains on its surface, which, considering the great at¬
traction exerted by the sun upon bodies placed at its
surface, and the slow revolution it has upon its axis, he
thinks may be more than 300 miles high, and yet
stand very firmly. He says, that in August 1792, he
examined the sun with several powers from 90 to 500;
and it evidently appeared that the dark spots are the
opaque ground or body of the sun; and that the lu¬
minous part is an atmosphere, which, being interrupted
or broken, gives us a view of the sun itself. Hence he
concludes, that the sun has a very extensive atmosphere,
which consists of elastic fluids that are more or less
lucid and transparent; and of which the lucid ones fur¬
nish us with light. This atmosphere, he thinks, is not
less than 1843, nor more than 2765 miles in height;
and, he supposes, that the density of the luminous solar
clouds need not be much more than that of our aurora
borealis, in order to produce the effects with which we
are acquainted. The sun then, if this hypothesis be ad¬
mitted, is similar to the other globes of the solar system,
with regard to its solidity—its atmosphere—its surface
diversified with mountains and valleys—its rotation on
its axis—and the fall of heavy bodies on its surface ; it
therefore appears to be a very eminent, large, and lu¬
cid planet, the primary one in our system, dissemina¬
ting its light and heat to all the bodies with which it is
connected.
Dr Herschel has lately given up the use of the old
terms such as spots, nuclei, penumbrce, &c. and has in¬
troduced a number of new terms, which he considers as
more precise. It will be necessary, before W7e proceed
farther, to insert his explanation of these terms.
“ The expressions,” says he, u which I have usedExplana-
are openings, shallows, ridges, nodules, corrugations, tion of hit
indentations, and pores.
“ Openings are those places where, by the accidental
removal of the luminous clouds of the sun, its own solid
body may be seen ; and this not being lucid, the open¬
ings through which we see it may, by a common tele¬
scope, be mistaken for mere black spots, or their nuclei.
“ Shallows are extensive and level depressions of the
luminous solar clouds, generally surrounding the open¬
ings to a considerable distance. As they are less lumi¬
nous than the rest of the sun, they seem to have some
distant, though very imperfect resemblance to penum-
brse; which might occasion their having been called so
formerly.
“ Ridges are bright elevations of luminous matter,
extended in rows of an irregular arrangement.
“ Nodules are also bright elevations of luminous mat¬
ter,
terms.
'od«j
tt
otl')a< Motions
ofthe
. .-r
ii )dies,
7° j
chel'ii
rva- 1
Ilfart II.
ate,1iApparent ter, tut confined to a small space.
1*
(penings.
ridges, on account of their being brighter than the ge-
?enl oft*ie neral surface of the sun, and also differing a little from
"W in colour, have been called faculse, and luculi.
“ Corrugations, I call that very particular and re¬
markable unevenness, ruggedness, or asperity, which is
peculiar to the luminous solar clouds, and extends all
over the surface of the globe of the sun. As the de¬
pressed parts of the corrugations are less luminous than
the elevated ones, the disk of the sun has an appearance
which may be called mottled.
Indentations are the depressed or low parts of the
corrugations ; they also extend over the whole surface
of the luminous solar clouds.
Pores are very small holes or openings, about the
middle of the indentations.
From the numerous observations of this philosopher
he has drawn the following conclusions :—
i. Openings are places where the luminous clouds
of the sun are removed : large openings have generally
shallows about them ; but small openings are generally
without shallows. They have generally ridges and
nodules about them, and they have a tendency to run
into each other. New openings often break out near
other openings. Hence he supposes that the openings
are occasioned by an elastic but not luminous gas, which
comes up through the pores and incipient openings,
and spreads itself on the luminous clouds, forcing them
out of its way, and widening its passage. Openings
sometimes difi’er in colour; they divide when decayed ;
sometimes they increase again ; but when divided they
usually decrease and vanish ; sometimes they become
large indentations, and sometimes they turn into
73 P°res-
Billows. 2. Shallows are depressed below the general surface
of the sun, and are places from which the luminous so¬
lar clouds of the upper regions are removed. Their
thickness is visible ; sometimes they exist without open¬
ings in them. Incipient shallows come from the open¬
ings, or branch out from shallows already formed, and
go forward. He supjjoses that the shallows are occa¬
sioned by something coming out of the openings, which,
by its propelling motion, drives away the luminous
clouds from the place where it meets with the least re¬
sistance ; or which, by its nature, dissolves them as it
comes up to them. If it be an elastic gas, its .levity
must be such as to make it ascend through the inferior
region of the solar clouds, and diffuse itself among the
superior luminous matter.
3. Ridges are elevations above the general surface of
the luminous clouds of the sun. One of them, which he
measured, extended over an angular space of 2' 45,/.9,
which is nearly 75,000 miles.
Ridges generally accompany openings: but they
often also exist in places where there are no openings.
They usually disperse very soon. He supposes, that
the openings permit a transparent elastic fluid to come
out, which disturbs the luminous matter on the top, so
as to occasion ridges and nodules; or, more precise¬
ly, that some elastic gas, acting below the luminous
clouds, lifts them up, or increases them ; and at last
forces itself a passage through them, bv throwing them
ASTRONOMY.
These nodules, and
He thinks that they may be ridges fore-short-
33
71 v
aua.
,fM
74
iges.
IS
Stales.
aside.
Nodules are small, but highly elevated luminous
Vol. III. Part L f
Apparent
Motions
of the
places,
ened.
5. Corrugations consist of elevations and depressions
They extend all over the surface of the sun ; they change ^odies'^
their shape and situation ; they increase, diminish, di- >  ■
vide, and vanish quickly. Dispersed ridges and no¬
dules form corrugations. ^
6. The dark places of corrugations are indentations. p0res.
Indentations are usually without openings, though in
some places they contain small ones. They change to
openings, and are of the same nature as shallows. They
are low places, which often contain very small open¬
ings. They are of different sizes, and are extended all
over the sun. With low magnifying powers they appear
like points. The low places of indentations are 'pores.
Pores increase sometimes, and become openings : they
vanish quickly.
“ It must be sufficiently evident,” says Dr Hers-
chel, “from what we have shown of the nature of
openings, shallows, ridges, nodules, corrugations, in¬
dentations, and pores, that these phenomena could not
appear, if the shining matter of the sun were a liquid ;
since, by the laws of hydrostatics, the openings, shal¬
lows, indentations, and pores, would instantly be fill¬
ed up ; nor could ridges and nodules preserve their
elevation for a single moment. Whereas, many open¬
ings have been known to last for a whole revolution
of the sun ; and extensive elevations have remained
supported for several days. Much less can it be an
elastic fluid of an atmospheric nature : this would be
still more ready to fill up the low places, and to ex¬
pand itself to a level at the top. It remains, therefore,
only for us to admit this shining matter to exist in the
manner of empyreal, luminous, or phosphoric clouds,
residing in the higher regions of the solar atmo¬
sphere.”
From his observations, Dr Herschel concludes, that xSvo re-
there are two different regions of solar clouds ; that the gions of so-
inferior clouds are opaque, and probably not unlike lar clouds,
those of our planet; while the superior are luminous, and
emit a vast quantity of light: that the opaque inferior
clouds probably suffer but little of the light of the
self-luminous superior clouds to come to the body of
the sun. “ The shallows about large openings,” he
observes, “ are generally of such a size, as hardly to
permit any direct illumination from the superior clouds
to pass over them into the openings ; and the great
height and closeness of the sides of small ones, though
not often guarded by shallows, must also have nearly
the same effect. By this it appears, that the planetary
clouds are indeed a most effectual curtain, to keep the
brightness of the superior regions from the body of
the sun.
“ Another advantage arising from the planetary
clouds of the sun, is of no less importance to the whole
solar system. Corrugations are everywhere dispersed
over the sun ; and their indentations may be called
shallows in miniature. From this we may conclude,
that the immense curtain of the planetary solar clouds
is everywhere closely drawn ; and, as our photometri-
cal experiments have proved that these clouds reflect
no less than 469 rays out of 1000, it is evident that
they must add a most capital support to the splendour
of the sun, by throwing back so great a share of the
E brightness
34
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
, 7S
Theory of
the solar
phenome-
ASTRO
brightness coming to them from the illumination of the
■whole superior regions.”
These observations are sufficient to prove, that the
sun has an atmosphere of great density, and extending
to a great height. Like our atmosphere, it is obvi¬
ously subject to agitations, similar to our winds j and
it is also transparent. The following is Dr Her-
schel’s theoretical explanation of the solar pheno¬
mena.
“ We have admitted,” says he, “ that a transparent
elastic gas comes up through the openings, by forcing
itself a passage through the planetary clouds. Our
observations seemed naturally to lead to this supposi¬
tion, or rather to prove it; for* in tracing the shal¬
lows to their origin, it has been shown, that they al¬
ways begin from the openings, and go forwards. We
have also seen, that in one case, a particular bias gi¬
ven to incipient shallows, lengthened a number of
them out in one certain direction, which evidently de¬
noted a propelling force acting the same way in them
all. I am, however, well prepared to distinguish be¬
tween facts observed, and the consequences that in rea¬
soning upon them we may draw from them j and it
will be easy to separate them, if that should hereafter
be required.
If, however, it be now allowed, that the cause
we have assigned may be the true one, it will then
appear, that the operations which are carried on in
the atmosphere of the sun are very simple and uni¬
form.
“ By the nature and construction of the sun, an ela¬
stic gas, which may be called empyreal, is constantly
formed. This ascends everywhere, by a specific gra¬
vity less than that of the general solar atmospheric gas
contained in the lower regions. When it goes up in
moderate quantities, it makes itself small passages
among the lower regions of clouds: these we have
frequently observed, and have called them pores. We
have shewn that they are liable to continual and quick
changes, which must be a natural consequence of their
fleeting generation.
“ When this empyreal gas has reached the higher
regions of the sun’s atmosphere, it mixes with other
gases, which, from their specific gravity, have their
residence there, and occasions decompositions which
produce the appearance of corrugations. It has been
shown, that the elevated parts of the corrugations are
small self-luminous nodules, or broken ridges j and I
have used the name of self-luminous clouds, as a gene¬
ral expression for all phenomena of the sun, in what
shape soever they may appear, that shine by their own
light. These terms do not exactly convey the idea af¬
fixed to them } but those of meteors, coruscations, in¬
flammations, luminous wisps, or others, which I might
have selected, would have been liable to still greater
objections. It is true, that when speaking of clouds,
we generally conceive something too gross, and even
too permanent, to permit us to apply that expression
properly to luminous decompositions, which cannot
float or swim in air, as we are used to see our plane¬
tary clouds do. But it should be remembered, that, on
account of the great compression arising from the force
of the gravity, all the elastic solar gases must be much
condensed j and that, consequently, phenomena in the
sun’s atmosphere, which in ours would be mere transi-
2
N O M Y.
Part Ifa
tory coruscations, such as those of the aurora borealis,
will be so compressed as to become much more effica¬
cious and permanent.
# “ The great light occasioned by the brilliant supe¬
rior regions, must scatter itself on the tops of the infe¬
rior planetary clouds, and, on account of their great
density, bring on a very vivid reflection. Between
the interstices of the elevated parts of the corrugations,
or self-luminous clouds, which, according to the ob¬
servations that have been given, are not closely con¬
nected, the light reflected from the lower clouds will
be plainly visible, and, being considerably less intense
than the direct illumination from the upper regions,
will occasion that taint appearance which we have call¬
ed indentations.
“ This mixture of the light reflected from the inden¬
tations, and that which is emitted directly from the
higher parts of the corrugations, unless very attentively
examined by a superior telescope, will only have the re¬
semblance of a mottled surface.
“ hen a quantity of empyreal gas, more than what
produces only pores in ascending, is formed, it will make
itself small openings ; or, meeting perhaps with some
resistance in passing upwards, it may exert its action in
the production of ridges and nodules.
“ Lastly, If still further an uncommon quantity of
this gas should be formed, it will burst through the pla¬
netary regions of clouds, and thus will produce great
openings; then, spreading itself above them, it will oc¬
casion large shallows, and, mixing afterwards gradual¬
ly with other superior gases, it will promote the in¬
crease, and assist in the maintenance, of the general lu¬
minous phenomena.
“ If this account of the solar appearances should be
well founded, we shall have no difficulty in ascertain¬
ing the actual state of the sun, with regard to its ener¬
gy in giving light and heat to our globe ; and nothing
will now remain, but to decide the question which
will naturally occur, whether there be actually any
considerable difference in the quantity of light and
heat emitted from the sun at different times.” This
question he decides in the affirmative, considering the
great number of spots as a proof that the sun is emit-
ting a great quantity of light and heat, and the want
of spots as the contrary. The first is connected with
a warm and good season ; the second, on the contrary,
produces a bad one *.
Chap. II. Of the Moon.
Next to the sun, the most conspicuous of all the
heavenly bodies is the moon. The changes which
it undergoes are more striking and more frequent than
those of the sun, and its apparent motions much more
rapid. Hence they were attended to even before those
of the sun were known ; a fact which explains why
the first inhabitants of the earth reckoned their time
by the moon’s motions, and of course followed the
lunar instead of the solar year. In considering the
moon, we shall iollow the same plan that we observed
with respect to the sun. We shall first give an account
of her apparent motions ; and, secondly, of her nature
as far as it has been ascertained. These topics shall oc¬
cupy the two following sections.
Appareii Up
Motion! |M
of the I o
Heaven; |le
Bodies. IB
' y—u-
i Via
1301]
i EM1']
* P/i /L
Trans. 18
part ii.
p. 365.
.t£
*b!:t
Sect.
JS:?'mrent Slot. I.
t'th«
’■ a.T.e^ feavenly
'’Hiei Bodies.
ti:
art II.
Motijux
of the
ASTRONOMY.
O f the Apparent Motions of the Moon.
35
79
The moon, like the sun, has a peculiar motion from
east to west. If vve observe her any evening when she
is situated very near any fixed star, we shall find her,
in 24 hours, about 130 to the east of that star j and
loon’s rao-her distance continually increases, till at last, after a
tm in her certain number of days, she returns again to the same
star from the west, having performed a complete revo¬
lution in the heavens. l]y a continued series of obser¬
vations it has been ascertained, that the moon makes a
complete revolution in 27.32166118036 days, or 27
days 7 hours 43' 11" 35"". Such at least was
the duration of its revolution at the commencement of
1700. But it does not remain always the same. From
a comparison between the observations of the ancients
(and those of the moderns, it appears, that the mean
motion of the moon in her orbit is accelerating. This
acceleration, but just sensible at present, will gradually
become more and more obvious. It is a point of great
importance to discover, whether it will always conti¬
nue to increase, or whether, after arriving at a certain
maximum, it will again diminish. Observations could
be of no service for many ages in the resolution of this
question ; but the Newtonian theory has enabled astro¬
nomers to ascertain that the acceleration is periodi¬
cal.
I The moon’s motion in her orbit is still more unequal
than that of the sun. In one part of her orbit she moves
faster, in another slower. By knowing the time of a
complete revolution, we can easily calculate the mean
motion for a day, or any given time ; and this mean
motion is called the mean anomaly. The true motion is
called the true anomaly : the diflerence between the two
is called the equation. Now the moon’s equation some¬
times amounts to 6° 18' 32".
Her apparent diameter varies with the velocity of
her angular motion. When she moves fastest, her dia¬
meter is largest; it is smallest when her angular motion
is slowest. When smallest, the apparent diameter is
0.489420°; when biggest, it is 0.558030°. Hence it
follows, that the distance of the moon from the earth
varies. By following the same mode of reasoning,
which we have detailed in the last chapter, Kepler as¬
certained that the orbit of the moon is an ellipse, having
the earth in one of its foci. Her radius vector describes
equal areas in equal times ; and her angular motion is
inversely proportional to the square of her distance from
the earth.
The eccentricity of the elliptic orbit of the moon,
has been ascertained to amount to 0.0550368, (the
mean distance of the earth being represented by unity) ;
or the greater axis is to the smaller, nearly as 100,000
to 99,848.
lhat point of the moon’s orbit which is nearest the
earth, is called the perigee; the opposite point is the
apogee. I he line which joins these opposite points, is
Even the elliptical orbit of the moon represents but Apparent
imperfectly her real motion round the earth ; for that Motions
luminary is subjected to a great number of irregularities, ot tlie
evidently connected with the positions of the sun, which {^(nT^nRly
considerably alter the figure of her orbit. The three <- v ■' t
following are the principal of these.
1. The greatest of all, and the one which was first as- The evec-
certained, is called by astronomers the moon’s erection, tion.
It is proportional to the sine of twice the mean angular
distance of the moon from the sun, minus the mean an¬
gular distance of the moon from the perigee of its orbit.
Its maximum amounts to 1.3410°. In the oppositions
and conjunctions of the sun and moon it coincides with
the equation of the centre, which it always diminishes.
Hence the ancients, who determined that equation by
means of the eclipses, found that equation smaller than
it is in reality. g t
2. There is another inequality in the motion of the Variations,
moon, which disappears during the conjunctions and
oppositions of the sun and moon ; and likewise when
these bodies are 90° distant from each other. It is at
its maximum when their mutual distance is about 45°,
and then amounts to about O.5940. Hence it has been
concluded to be proportional to the sine of twice the
mean angular distance of the moon from the sun. This
inequality is called the variation. It disappears during
the eclipses. g.
3. The moon’s motion is accelerated when that of Annual
the sun is retarded, and the contrary. This occasionse<lualio^•
an irregularity called the annual equation. It follows
exactly the same law with that of the equation of the
centre of the sun, only with a contrary sine. At its
maximum it amounts to 0.18576°. During eclipses, it
coincides with the equation of the sun.
The moon’s orbit is inclined to the ecliptic at an
angle of 6.14692°. The points where it intersects the
ecliptic are called the nodes. Their position is not fix¬
ed in the heavens. They have a retrograde motion,
that is to say, a motion contrary to that of the sun.
This motion may be easily traced by marking the suc¬
cessive stars which the moon passes when she crosses
the ecliptic. They make a complete revolution of the Revolutioa
heavens in 6793.3009 days. The ascending node is of her.
that in which the moon rises above the ecliptic towards n°des.
the north pole, the descending node that in which she
sinks below the equator towards the south pole. The
motion of the nodes is subjected to several irregulari¬
ties, the greatest of which is proportional to the sine of
twice the angular distance of the sun from the ascend¬
ing node of the lunar orbit. When at a maximum, it
amounts to 1.62945°. The inclination of the orbit
itself is variable. Its greatest inequality amounts to
0.14679°. It is proportional to the cosine of the same
angle on which the irregularity in the motion of the
nodes depends.
The apparent diameter of the moon varies as well
as that ot the sun, and in a more remarkable manner.
called the line of the moon’s apsides. It moves slowly When smallest, it measures 29. c': when largest, ia'.
eastward. r.mvmWirwr o oiMoi'ool rru •.  ^ i  • . ,1 A 7 &
82
n’s ir-
!ari-
eastward, completing a sidereal revolution in 3 23 2.46643
days, or nearly 9 years.
I he inclination of the moon’s orbit is also va¬
riable : the greatest inequality is proportional to the
cosine of twice the sun’s angular distance from the
ascending node, and amounts when a maximum to
0.14679°.
This must be owing to the distance of the moon from
the earth being subject to variations.
The great distance of the sun from the earth renders Moo*?g
it difficult to determine its parallax, on account of itsraliax. P
minuteness. This is not the case with the moon. The
distance of that luminary from the earth may be deter¬
mined without much difficulty.
Ea Let
36
ASTRONOMY.
?art I rZ
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Let BAG (fig. io.) be one half of the earth, AC
its semidiameter, S the sun, m the moon, and EKOL
a quarter of the circle described by the moon in re¬
volving from the meridian to the meridian again. Let
CBS be the rational horizon of an observer at A, ex¬
tended to the sun in the heavens j and HAO, his sen¬
sible horizon extended to the moon’s orbit. ALC is
the angle under which the earth’s semidiameter AC is
seen from the moon at L ; which is equal to the angle
OAL, because the right lines AO and CL, which in¬
clude both those angles, are parallel. ASC is the angle
under which the earth’s semidiameter AC is seen from
the sun at S : and is equal to the angle OAf because
the lines AO and CBS are parallel. Now, it is found
by observation, that the angle OAL is much greater
than the angle OAf; but OAL is equal to ALC,
and OAf is equal to ASC. Now as ASC is much
less than ALC, it proves that the earth’s semidiameter
AC appears much greater as seen from the moon at L
than from the sun at S ; and therefore the earth is much
farther from the sun than from the moon. The quan¬
tities of these angles may be determined by observation
in the following manner.
Let a graduated instrument, as DAE (the larger
the better), having a moveable index with sight-holes,
be fi xed in such a manner, that its plane surface mav
be parallel to the plane of the equator, and its edge
AD in the meridian : so that when the moon is in the
equinoctial, and on the meridian ADE, she may be
seen through the sight-holes when the edge of the
moveable index cuts the beginning of the divisions at
o, on the graduated limb DE ; and when she is so seen,
let the precise time be noted. Now as the moon re¬
volves about the earth from the meridian to the meri¬
dian again in about 24 hours 48 minutes, she will go a
fourth part round it in a fourth part of that time, viz.
in 6 hours 12 minutes as seen from C, that is, from
the earth’s centre or pole. But as seen from A, the
observer’s place on the earth’s surface, the moon will
seem to have gone a quarter round the earth when she
comes to the sensible horizon at O ; for the index
through the sights of which she is then viewed will be
at d, 90 degrees from D, where it was when she was
seen at E. Now let the exact moment when the moon
is seen at O (which will be when she is in or near the
sensible horizon) be carefully noted (g) that it may be
known in what time she has gone from E to O ; which
time subtracted from 6 hours 12 minutes (the time
of her going from E to L) leaves the time of her going
from O to L, and affords an easy method for finding
the angle OAL (called the moon's horizontal parallax,
which is equal to the angle ALC) by the following
analogy : As the time of the moon’s describing the arc
EO is to 90 degrees, so is 6 hours 12 minutes to the
degrees of the arc Dr/E, which measures the angle
EAL ; from which subtract 90 degrees, and there re¬
mains the angle OAL, equal to the angle ALC, un¬
der which the earth’s semidiameter AC is seen from
the moon. Now, since all the angles of a right-lined
triangle are equal to 180 degrees, or to two right Apparen ^
angles, and the sides of a triangle are always propor- Motion! 1
tional to the sines of the opposite angles, say, by the of the ,
Buie of Three, As the sine of the angle ALC at the bodies
moon L, is to its opposite side AC, the earth’s semi- ■ ^ <-
diameter, which is known to be 3985 miles; so is ra¬
dius, viz. the sine of 90 degrees, or of the right angle
ACL, to its opposite side AL, which is the moon’s
distance at L from the observer’s place at A on the
earth’s surface $ or, so is the sine of the angle CAL
to its opposite side CL, which is the moon’s distance
from the earth’s centre, and comes out at a mean rate
to be 240,000 miles. The angle CAL is equal to what
OAL wants of 90 degrees. gg ^
Other methods have been fallen upon for determin-Another
ing the moon’s parallax 5 of which the following is re-11161^1
commended as the best, by Mr Ferguson, though hi¬
therto it has not been put in practice. “ Let two ob¬
servers be placed under the same meridian, one in the
northern hemisphere, and the other in the southern, at
such a distance from each other, that the arc of the ce¬
lestial meridian included between their two zeniths may
be at least 80 or 90 degrees. Let each observer take
the distance of the moon’s centre from his zenith, by
means of an exceeding good instrument, at the moment
of her passing the meridian : and these two zenith di¬
stances of the moon together, and their excess above
the distance between the two zeniths, will be the di¬
stance between the two apparent places of the moon.
Then, as the sum of the natural sines of the two ze¬
nith distances of the moon is to radius, so is the di¬
stance between her two apparent places to her hori¬
zontal parallax : which being found, her distance from
the earth’s centre may be found by the analogy men¬
tioned above.
Thus, in fig. 11. let VECQ be the earth, M the
moon, and 7jba<z an arc of the celestial meridian. Let
V be Vienna, whose latitude EV is 48° 20' north ; ami
C the Cape of Good Hope, whose latitude EC is 340
30' south : both which latitudes we suppose to be ac¬
curately determined beforehand by the observers. As
these two places are on the same meridian 11 VEC *,
and in different hemispheres, the sum of their lati¬
tudes 82° 50' is their distance from each other. Z is
the zenith of Vienna, and 55 the zenith of the Cape of
of Good Hope $ which two zeniths are also 82° 50'
distant from each other, in the common celestial meri¬
dian Z z. To the observer at Vienna, the moon’s
centre will appear at a in the celestial meridian ; and
at the same instant, to the observer at the Cape, it will
appear at b. Now suppose the moon’s distance Zo
from the zenith of Vienna to be 38° l' 53", and her
distance zb from the zenith of the Cape of Good Hope
to be 46° 4' 41" : the sum of these two zenith distan¬
ces (Zo-F25^) is 84° 6' 34'/$ from which subtract
82° 50', the distance of Zx; between the zeniths of these
two places, and there will remain i° 16' 34" for the
arc b a, or distance between the two apparent places of
the moon’s centre, as seen from V and from C. Then,
supposing-
(g) Here proper allowance must be made for the refraction, which being about 34 minutes of a degree in
the horizon, will cause the moon’s centre to appear 34 minutes above the horizon when her centre is really
in it..
Ref
the
%ll
't I] Part II.
0>dies,
89
boon’s
'parei,, Apparent supposing the tabular radius to be 10,000,000,
Motions tural sine of 38° l' 53" (the arc Zar) is 6,160,816, and
the of the- the natural sine of 46® 4'41" (the arc :s&) is 7,202,821:
If"1! ^odles.^ tlle sum of tjotfl these sines is 13,363,637. Say
  , therefore, As 13,363,637 is to 10,000,000, SO is
i° 16' 34" to 57' 18", which is the moon’s horizontal
parallax.
If the two places of observation be not exactly un¬
der the same meridian, their difference of longitude
must be accurately taken, that proper allowance may
be made for the moon’s declination whilst she is passing
from the meridian of the one to the meridian of the
other.
From the theory of the parallax we know, that at
the distance of the moon from the earth the apparent
size of the earth would be to that of the moon as
21,352 to 5823. Their respective diameters must be
proportional to these numbers, or almost as 11 to 3.
Hence the bulk of the moon is 49 times less than that
j>o of the earth.
tier phases The different earances, or phases, of the moon
*Pain • constitute some of the most striking phenomena of the
heavens. When she emerges from the rays of the sun
in an evening, she appears after sunset as a small cres¬
cent just visible. The size of this crescent increases
continually as she separates to a greater distance from
the sun, and when she is exactly in opposition to that
luminary, she appears under the form of a complete
circle. This circle changes into a crescent as she ap¬
proaches nearer that luminary, exactly in the same man¬
ner it had increased, till at last she disappears altoge¬
ther, plunging into the sun’s rays in the morning at
sunrise. The crescent of the moon being always di¬
rected towards the sun, indicates obviously that she bor¬
rows her light from that luminary; while the law of
the variation of her phases, almost proportional to the
versed side of the angular distance of the moon from
the sun, demonstrates that her figure is spherical.
Hence it follows, that the moon is an opaque spherical
body.
Hiese different phases of the moon are renewed af¬
ter every conjunction. They depend upon the excess
of the synodical movement of the moon above that of
the sun, an excess which is usually termed the synodi¬
cal motion of the moon. The duration of the synodi¬
cal revolution of the moon in the mean period between
two conjunctions is 29.530588 days. It is to the tro¬
pical year nearly in the ratio of 19 to 235, that is to
say, that 19 solar years consist of about 235 lunar
months.
Hie points of the lunar orbit, in which the moon is
either in conjunction or opposition to the sun are called
syzigies. In the first point the moon is said to be new,
in the second to be full. The quadratures are those
points in which the moon is distant from the sun 90° or
27°*‘ When in these points, the moon is said to be in
first and third quarter. One half only of the moon
is then illuminated or seen from the earth. As a more
particular account of these phases may be deemed ne¬
cessary, we subjoin the following explanation, which
will perhaps be better understood by the generality of
readers.
ffhe moon is an opaque globe like the earth, and
shines only by reflecting the light of the sun : there¬
fore, whilst that half of her which is towards the sun is
ASTRONOMY. 37
the na- enlightened, the other half must be dark and invisible. Apparent
9*
leflects
tie tuu’e
;ht.
Hence she disappears when she comes between us and Motions
the sun ; because her dark side is then towards us. ^
When she is gone a little way forward, we see a little y
of her enlightened side : which still increases to our t ■
view as she advances forward, until she comes to be
opposite to the sun 3 and then her whole enlightened
side is towards the earth, and she appears with a round
illuminated orb, which we call the full moon ; her
dark side being then turned away from the earth.
From the full she seems to decrease gradually as she
goes through the other half of her course 3 showing us
less and less of her enlightened side every day, till her
next change or conjunction with the sun, and then sire
disappears as before.
The moon has scarce any difference of seasons 3 her
axis being almost perpendicular to the ecliptic. What
is very singular, one half of her has no darkness at all 3
the earth constantly affording it a strong light in the
sun’s absence ; while the other half has a fortnight’s
darkness and a fortnight’s light by turns.
Our earth is thought to be a moon to the moon 3 Earth ap-
waxing and waning regularly, but appearing 13 timesPearsa
as big, and affording her 13 times as much light as shemoon to
does us. When she changes to us, the earth appears °Ur nl00L
full to her; and when she is in her first quarter to
us, the earth is in its third quarter to her 5 and vice
versa.
But from one half of the moon the earth is never
seen at all : from the middle of the other half, it is al¬
ways seen over head 5 turning round almost 30 times as
quick as the moon does. From the circle which limits
our view of the moon, only one half of the earth’s side
next her is seen 3 the other half being hid below the
horizon of all places on that circle. To her the earth
seems to be the biggest body in the universe 3 for it ap¬
pears 13 times as big as she does to us.
As the earth turns round its axis, the several conti¬
nents, seas, and islands, appear to the moon’s inhabi¬
tants like so many spots of different forms and bright¬
ness, moving over its surface ; but much fainter at some
times than others, as our clouds cover them or leave
them. By these spots the lunarians can determine the
time of the earth’s diurnal motion, just as we do the
motion of the sun : and perhaps they measure their time
by the motion of the earth’s spots: for they cannot
have a truer dial.
The moon’s axis is so nearly perpendicular to thefiow the
ecliptic, that the sun never removes sensibly from her hn*ar in-
equator 3 and the obliquity of her orbit, which is next habitants
to nothing as seen from the sun, cannot cause the suncan
to decline sensibly from her equator. Yet her inhabi-*111
tants are not destitute of means for ascertaining the
length of their year, though their method and ours must
differ. For we can know the length of our year by the
return of our equinoxes 3 but the lunarians having al¬
ways equal day and night, must have recourse to an¬
other method 3 and we may suppose, they measure their
year by observing when either of the poles of our earth
begins to be enlightened, and the other to disappear,
which is always at our equinoxes 3 they being conve¬
niently situated for observing great tracts of land about
our earth’s poles which are entirely unknown to us.
Hence we may conclude, that the year is of the same^
absolute length both to the earth and moon, though
veryy
33
ASTRONOMY.
Part II
Apf/irent
Motions
of tho
Heavenly
Bodies.
Fig. tz.
95
Her phases
exp!aiued.
very different as to the number of days j we having 365^
natural days, and the lunarians only lirV* every day
and night in the moon being as long as 29J on the
earth.
The moon’s inhabitants on the side next the earth
may as easily find the longitude of their places as we
can find the latitude of ours. For the earth keeping
constantly, or very nearly so, over one meridian of the
moon, the east or west distances of places from that me¬
ridian are as easily found as we can find our distance
from the equator by the altitude of our celestial poles.
As the sun can only enlighten that half of the earth
which is at any moment turned towards him, and, be¬
ing withdrawn from the opposite half, leaves it in dark¬
ness, so he likewise doth to the moon j only with this
difference, that as the earth is surrounded by an at¬
mosphere, we have twilight after the sun sets ; but if
the moon has none of her own, nor is included in that
of the earth, the lunar inhabitants have an immediate
transition from the brightest sunshine to the blackest
darkness. For, let trksw be the earth, and A, B,
C, I), E, F, G, H, the moon in eight different parts of
her orbit. As the earth turns round its axis from west
to east, when any place comes to t, the twilight begins
there, and when it revolves from thence to r the sun S
rises •, when the place comes to s the sun sets, and when
it comes to w the twilight ends. But as the moon
turns round her axis, which is only once a-month, the
moment that any part of her surface comes to r (see
the moon at G), the sun rises there without any pre¬
vious warning by twilight $ and when the same point
comes to s the sun sets, and that point goes into dark¬
ness as black as at midnight.
The moon being an opaque spherical body (for her
hills take off no more from her roundness than the in¬
equalities on the surface of an orange take off' from its
roundness), we can only see that part of the enlighten¬
ed half of her which is towards the earth. And there¬
fore, when the moon is at A, in conjunction with the
sun S, her dark half is towards the earth, and she dis¬
appears, as at a, there being no light on that half to
render it visible. When she comes to her first octant
at B, or has gone an eighth part of her orbit from her
conjunction, a quarter of her enlightened side is to¬
wards the earth ; and she appears horned, as at b.
When she has gone a quarter of her orbit from be¬
tween the earth and sun to C, she shows us one half of
her enlightened side, as at c, and we say she is a quar¬
ter old. At D, she is in her second octant; and by
showing us more of her enlightened side she appears
gibbous, as at d. At E, her whole enlightened side is
towards the earth ; and therefore she appears round, as
at e; when we say it is full moon. In her third oc¬
tant at F, part of her dark side being towards the
earth, she again appears gibbous, and is on the de¬
crease, as at/. At G, we see just one half of her en¬
lightened side j and she appears half decreased, or in
her third quarter, as at g. At H, we only see a quar¬
ter of her enlightened side, being in her fourth octant j
where she appears horned, as at h. And at A, ha¬
ving completed her course from the sun to the sun
again, she disappears ; and we say it is new moon.
Thus, in going from A to E, the moon seems conti¬
nually to incre ue > and in going from E to A, to de-
P,
Ai1
i M
<
E
crease in the same proportion ; having like phases at Apparent
equal distances from A to E, but as seen from the sun Motions
S she is always full. of the
The moon appears not perfectly round when she is
full in the highest or lowest part of her orbit, because »
we have not a full view of her enlightened side at that 96
time. When full in the highest part of her orbit, a ^ver ap-
small deficiency appears on her lower edge; and the ]>eillJs Per*
contrary when full in the lowest part of her orbit. round
It is plain by the figure, that when the moon changes
to the earth, the earth appears full to the moon ; and
vice versa. For when the moon is at A, new to the
earth, the whole enlightened side of the earth is towards
the moon ; and when the moon is at E, full to the
earth, its dark side is towards her. Hence a new moon
answers to a full earth, and a full moon to a new earth.
The quarters are also reversed to each other. 97
Between the third quarter and change, the moon is Agreeable per
frequently visible in the forenoon, even when the sunrel>res®“la*
shines; and then she affords us an opportunity of seeingpij"SyS
a very agreeable appearance, wherever we find a globu¬
lar stone above the level of the eye, as suppose on the
top of a gate. For, if the sun shines on the stone, and
we place ourselves so as the upper part of the stone may
just seem to touch the point of the moon’s lowermost
horn, we shall then see the enlightened part of the stone
exactly 'of the same shape with the moon ; horned as she
is, and inclined the same way to the horizon. The rea¬
son is plain ; for the sun enlightens the stone the same
way as he does the moon : and both being globes, when
we put ourselves into the above situation, the moon and
stone have the same position to our eyes; and therefore
we must see as much of the illuminated part of the one
as of the other.
The position of the moon’s cusps, or a right line
touching the points of her horns, is very differently
inclined to the horizon at different hours of the same
day of her age. Sometimes she stands, as it were, up¬
right on her lower horn, and then such a line is per¬
pendicular to the horizon : when this happens, she is 9g
in what the astronomers call the nonagesii?ial degree
which is the highest point of the ecliptic above the ho-mal degm
rizon at that time, and is 90° from both sides of the
■noi
■ iWe
I Klip
horizon where it is then cut by the ecliptic. But
this never happens when the moon is on the meridian,
except when she is at the very beginning of Cancer or
Capricorn.
The explanation of the phases of the moon leads us Eclipses of ri,,
to that of the eclipses ; those phenomena which former- the moftn. j n,
ly were the subjects of dread and error, but which phi¬
losophers have converted to the purposes of utility and
instruction. The moon can only become eclipsed by
the interposition of an opaque body, which intercepts
from it the light of the sun ; and it is obvious that this
opaque body is the earth, because the eclipses of the
moon never happen except when the moon is in oppo¬
sition, and consequently when the earth is interposed
between her and the sun. The globe of the earth pro¬
jects behind it relatively to the motion of the sun a
conical shadow, whose axis is the straight line that
joins the centres of the earth and sun, and which ter¬
minates at the point when the apparent diameters of
these two bodies become equal. The diameter of
these bodies seen from the centre of the moon in oppo¬
sition
[.he
too
reriod of
her
jesi-
c-riet
art II.
ipparent sition, are nearly in the proportion of 3 for the sun and
Motions 11 for the earth. Therefore, the conical shadow of the
of the earth is at least thrice as long as the distance between
Bodies'y t^le eart^ ant* moon* antl its breadth at the point where
it is traversed by the moon more than double the dia¬
meter of that luminary.
The moon, therefore, would be eclipsed every time
that it is in opposition, if the plane of its orbit coincid¬
ed with the ecliptic. But in consequence of the mu¬
tual inclination of these two planes, the moon, when in
opposition, is often elevated above the earth’s conical
shadow, or depressed below it j and never can pass
through that shadow unless when it is near the nodes.
If the whole of the moon’s disk plunges into the
shadow, the eclipse is said to be total; if only a part of
the disk enter the shadow, the eclipse is said to bejMsr-
tial.
The mean duration of a revolution of the sun rela-
eeclipses. tive]y j.0 tjie no(]eg 0f j|ie lunar orbit is 346.61963
days, and is to the duration of a synodical revolution
of the moon nearly as 223 to 19. Consequently, after
a period of 223 lunar months, the sun and moon return
nearly to the same situation relatively to the order of
the lunar orbit. Of course the eclipses must return in
the same order after every 223 lunations. This gives
us an easy method of predicting them. But the ine¬
qualities in the motions of the sun and moon occasion
sensible differences j besides the return of the two lumi¬
naries to the same points relatively to the nodes not be¬
ing rigorously true, the deviations occasioned by this
want of exactness alter at last the order of the eclipses
observed during one of these periods.
The following explanation of the lunar eclipses be¬
ing more particular, may be acceptable to some of our
readers.
That the moon can never be eclipsed but at the time
of her being full, and the reason why she is not
eclipsed at every full, has been shown already. In
fig. 13. let S be the sun, E the earth, RR the earth’s
shadow, and B the moon in opposition to the sun: In
this situation the earth intercepts the sun’s light in its
way to the moon ; and when the moon touches the
earth’s shadow at v, she begins to be eclipsed on her
eastern limb x, and continues eclipsed until her western
limb y leaves the shadow at ; at B she is in the mid¬
dle of the shadow, and consequently in the middle of
the eclipse.
'Ilhy th« I he moon, when totally eclipsed, is not invisible if
ijDon is vi- she be above the horizon and the sky be clear ; but ap-
£l!wden pfarS ^nerally of a dusky colour, like tarnished cop-
T ^ ‘ per, which some have thought to be the moon’s native
light. But the true cause of her being visible is the
scattered beams of the sun, bent into the earth’s sha¬
dow by going through the atmosphere ; which, being
more or less dense near the earth than at considerable
heights above it, refracts or bends the sun’s rays more
inward, the nearer th&y are passing by the earth’s sur¬
face, than those rays which go through higher parts of
the atmosphere, where it is less dense according to its
height, until it be so thin or rare as to lose its refrac¬
tive power. Let the circle/, g, h, i, concentric to the
earth, include the atmosphere whose refractive power
vanishes at the height /"and i; so that the rays Wy*w
and \ * v go on straight without suffering the least re¬
ASTRONOMY.
39
lot
fraction: but all those rays which enter the atmosphere Apparent
between /"and k, and between i and /, on opposite sides Motions
of the earth, are gradually more bent inward as they of the
go through a greater portion of the atmosphere, until IIea^en,y
the rays W k and V l touching the earth at m and n, , Ijof‘tes-
are bent so much as to meet at q, a little short of the
moon ; and therefore the dark shadow of the earth is
contained in the space m 0 p q n, where none of the
sun’s rays can enter ; all the rest, R, R, being mixed
by the scattered rays which are refracted as above, is
in some measure enlightened by them ; and some of
those rays falling on the moon, give her the colour of
tarnished copper or of iron almost red hot. So that if
the earth had no atmosphere, the moon would be as
invisible in total eclipses as she is ivhen new. If the
were so near the earth as to go into its dark
sh acjow, suppose about joo, she would be invisible du¬
ring her stay in it; but visible before and after in the
fainter shadow RR.
When the moon goes through the centre of the
earth’s shadow she is directly opposite to the sun ; yet
the moon has been often seen totally eclipsed in the ho¬
rizon, when the sun was also visible in the opposite part
of it j for the horizontal refraction being almost 34
minutes of a degree, and the diameter of the sun and
moon being each at a mean state but 32 minutes, the
refraction causes both luminaries to appear above the
horizon when they are really below it.
When the moon is full at 12 degrees from either of
her nodes, she just touches the earth’s shadow, but en¬
ters not into it. In fig. 14. let GH be the ecliptic,
ef the moon’s orbit where she is 12 degrees from the
node at her full, c d her orbit where she is 6 degrees
from the node, a b her orbit where she is full in the
node, AB the earth’s shadow, and M the moon.
When the moon describes the line ef, she just touches
the shadow, but does not enter into it; when she de¬
scribes the line c d, she is totally, though not centrally,
immersed in the shadow ; and when she describes the
line a b, she passes by the node at M in the centre of
the shadow, and takes the longest line possible, which
is a diameter, through it: and such an eclipse being
both total and central, is of the longest duration, name-
ly, 3 b* 57 6 sec. from the beginning to the end, if
the moon be at her greatest distance from the earth $
and 3 h. 37 m. 26. sec. if she be at her least distance.
The reason of this difference is, that when the moon is
farthest from the earth, she moves slowest 5 and when
nearest to it, quickest.
The moon’s diameter, as well as the sun’s, is suppo¬
sed to be divided into 12 equal parts, called fftgzV.?; and
so many of these parts as are darkened by the earth’s
shadow, so many digits is the moon eclipsed. All that
the moon is eclipsed above 12 digits, shows how far the
shadow of the earth is over the body of the moon, on
that edge to which she is nearest at the middle of the
eclipse.
It is difficult to observe exactly either the beginning
or ending of a lunar eclipse, even with a good telescope, eclipse*
because the earth’s shadow is so faint and ill-defined difficultly
about the edges, that when the moon is either iust°^selve^*
touching or leaving it, the obscuration of her limb is
scarce sensible ; and therefore the nicest observers can
hardly be certain to four or five seconds of time. But
both ,
40
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
103
Eclipses of
the san.
104
Number of
eclipses in
a year.
both the beginning and ending of solar eclipses are vi¬
sibly instantaneous : for the moment that the edge of
the moon’s disk touches the sun’s, his roundness seems
a little broke on that part: and the moment she leaves
it, he appears perfectly round again.
The eclipses of the sun only take place during the
conjunctions of the sun and moon, or when the moon
is placed between the sun and the earth. They are
owing to the moon concealing the sun from the earth,
or to the earth being plunged in the shadow of the
moon. The moon is indeed much smaller than the sunj
but it is so much nearer to the earth that its apparent
diameter does not differ much from the diameter of
that luminary : and, in consequence of the changes
which take place in the apparent diameter of these
bodies, it happens that sometimes the apparent diame¬
ter of the moon is greater than that of the sun. If we
suppose the centres of the sun and moon in the same
straight line with the eye of a spectator placed on the
earth, he will see the sun eclipsed. If the apparent dia¬
meter of the moon happens to surpass that of the sun,
the eclipse will be total: but if the moon’s diameter be
smallest, the observer will see a luminous ring, formed
by that part of the sun’s disk which exceeds that of the
moon’s, and the eclipse will in that case be annular.
If the centre of the moon is not in the same straight
line which joins the observer and the centre of the sun,
the eclipse can only be partial, as the moon can only
conceal apart of the sun’s disk. Hence there must be
a great variety in the appearance of the solar eclipses.
We may add also to these causes of variety the eleva¬
tion of the moon above the horizon, which changes its
apparent diameter considerably. For it is well known,
that the moon’s diameter appears larger when she is near
the horizon than when she is elevated far above it. Now,
as the moon’s height above the horizon varies according
to the longitude of the observer, it follows, that the solar
eclipses will not have the same appearance to the obser¬
vers situated in different longitudes. One observer
may see an eclipse which does not happen relatively to
another. In this respect the solar differ from the lunar
eclipses, which are the same to all the inhabitants of the
earth.
In any year, the number of eclipses of both lumi¬
naries cannot be less than two, nor more than seven}
the most usual number is four, and it is very rare to
have more than six. For the sun passes by both the
nodes but once a-year, unless he passes by one of them
in the beginning of the year ; and, if he does, he will
pass by the same node again a little before the year be
finished 5 because, as these points move 19^- degrees
backwards every year, the sun will come to either of
them 173 days after the other. And when either
node is within 17 degrees of the sun at the time of new
moon, the sun will be eclipsed. At the subsequent
opposition, the moon will be eclipsed in the other node,
and come round to the next conjunction again ere the
former node be 17 degrees past the sun, and will there¬
fore eclipse him again. When three eclipses fall
about either node, the like number generally falls
about the opposite ; as the sun comes to it in 173 days
afterwards ; and six lunations contain but four days
Thus, there may be two eclipses of the sun
ASTRONOMY. Part II.
when the moon changes in either of the nodes, she Apparent PP
cannot be near enough the other node at the next full
to be eclipsed ; and in six lunar months afterwards she
will change nearer the other node; in these cases, there ^odies^ '
can be but two eclipses in a year, and they are both of
the sun.
A longer period than the above mentioned, for com¬
paring and examining eclipses which happen at long in¬
tervals of time, is 557 years, 21 days, 18 hours, 30 mi¬
nutes, 11 seconds; in which time there are 6890 mean
lunations; and the sun and node meet again so nearly
as to be but 11 seconds distant; but then it is not the
same eclipse that returns, as in the shorter period above
mentioned. IQ^
Eclipses of the sun are more frequent than of the tyhy n]0re
moon, because the sun’s ecliptic limits are greater than eclipses of
the moon’s; yet we have more visible eclipses of the the moon
and one of the moon about each of her nodes. But
moon than of the sun, because eclipses of the moon arelilan of ‘J16
r sun are ob«
seen from all parts of that hemisphere of the earth which serve(j
is next her, and are equally great to each of those
parts : but the sun’s eclipses are visible only to that
small portion of the hemisphere next him whereon the
moon’s shadow falls.
The moon’s orbit being elliptical, and the earth in
one of its focuses, she is once at her least distance from
the earth, and once at her greatest in every lunation. ^
When the moon changes at her least distance from the Total and
earth, and so near the node that her dark shadow falls ani}ular
upon the earth, she appears big enough to cover theec^^*es"
whole disk of the sun from that part on which her
shallow falls ; and the sun appears totally eclipsed
there for some minutes : but, when the moon changes
at her greatest distance from the earth, and so near
the node that her dark shadow is directed towards the
earth, her diameter subtends a less angle than the
sun’s; and therefore she cannot hide his whole disk
from any part of the earth, nor does her shadow reach
it at that time ; and to the place over which the point
of her shadow hangs, the eclipse is annular, the sun’s
edge appearing like a luminous ring all round the body
of the moon.
When the change happens within 17 degrees of the
node, and the moon at her mean distance from the
earth, the point of her shadow just touches the earth
and she eclipseth the sun totally to that small spot
whereon her shadow falls ; but the darkness is not of a
moment’s continuance.
The moon’s apparent diameter, when largest, ex¬
ceeds the sun’s, when least, only 1 minute 38 seconds
of a degree ; and in the greatest eclipse of the sun
that can happen at any time and place, the total
darkness continues no longer than whilst the moon
is going 1 minute 38 seconds from the sun in her or¬
bit, which is about 3 minutes and 13 seconds of an
hour.
The moon’s dark shadow covers only a spot on the Extent of
earth’s surface about 180 English miles broad, when the moon’s
the moon’s diameter appears largest, and the sun’s least; shadow am
and the total darkness can extend no farther than the Penumb^a•
dark shadow covers. Yet the moon’s partial shadow
or penumbra may then cover a circular space 4900
miles in diameter, within all which the sun is more or
less eclipsed, as the places are less or more distant from
the centre of the penumbra. When the moon changes
exactly
107
■ -ent
am!
H irt II.
pparcnt
lotions
of the
^arenly
Bodies.
I3‘
exactly in the node, the penamhra is circular on the
earth at the middle of the general eclipse ; because at
that time it falls perpendicularly on the earth’s surface j
but at every other moment it falls obliquely, and will
therefore be elliptical; and the more so, as the time
is longer before or after the middle of the general
eclipse ; and then much greater portions of the earth’s
surface are involved in the penumbra.
When the penumbra first touches the earth, the ge¬
neral eclipse begins ; when it leaves the earth, the ge¬
neral eclipse ends : from the beginning to the end the
sun appears eclipsed in some part of the earth or other.
When the penumbra touches any place, the eclipse be¬
gins at that plate, and ends when the penumbra leaves
it. When the moon changes in the node, the pe¬
numbra goes over the centre of the earth’s disk as
seen from the moon j and consequently, by describing
the longest line possible on the earth, continues the
longest upon it $ namefy, at a mean rate, 5 hours, 50
minutes ; more, if the moon be at her greatest distance
from the earth, because she then moves slowest; less
if she be at her least distance, because of her quicker
motion.
To make several of the above and other phenomena
jdainer, let S be the sun, E the earth, M the moon,
and AMP the moon’s orbit. Draw the right line W e
from the western side of the sun at W, touching the
western side of the moon at c, and the earth at e :
draw also the right line V r/, from the eastern side of
the sun at V, touching the eastern side of the moon at
r/, and the earth at e : the dark space c e d included
between those lines is the moon’s shadow, ending in a
point at e, where it touches the earth ; because in this
Case the moon is supposed to change at M in the
middle between A the apogee, or farthest point of her
orbit from the earth, and P the perigee, or nearest
point to it. For, had the point P been at M, the
moon had been nearer the earth : and her dark shadow
at e would have covered a space upon it about 180
miles broad, and the sun would have been totally dark¬
ened, with some continuance : but had the point A
been at M, the moon would have been farther from
the earth, and her shadow would have ended in a point
a little above e, and therefore the sun would have ap¬
peared like a luminous ring all around the moon. Draw
the right lines WX dh and VX eg, touching the con-
trary sides of the sun and moon, and ending on the
earth at a and b ; draw also the right line SXM, from
the centre of the sun’s disk, through the moon’s cen-
tie to the earth 5 and suppose the two former lines
WX d h and VX agio revolve on the line SXM as an
axis, and their points a and b will describe the limits
of the penumbra T. F on the earth’s surface, including
the laige space aba; within which the sun appears
more or less eclipsed, as the places are more or less di¬
stant from the verge of the penumbra a b.
Draw the right line 5/ 12 across the sun’s disk, per¬
pendicular to SXM the axis of the penumbra j then
divide the line y \2 into twelve equal parts, as in the
figure, for the twelve digits or equal parts of the sun’s
diameter; and at equal distances from the centre of
the penumbra at e (on the earth’s surface YY) to its
edge ab, draw twelve concentric circles, marked with
the numeral figures 1234, and remember that
VOL. HI. Part I. .
ASTEONOMY. 41
the moon’s motion in her orbit AMP is from west to Apparent
east, as from s to t. Then,
To an observer on the earth at b, the eastern limb
Motions
of the
of the moon at t/ seems to touch the western limb of {lodges ^
the sun at WT, when the moon is at M j and the sun’s
eclipse begins at b, appearing as at A, fig. 15. at the
left hand j but at the same moment of absolute time,
to an observer at a in fig. 14. the western edge of the
moon ate leaves the4eastern edge of the sun at V, and
the eclipse ends, as at the right hand C, fig. 15. At
the very same instant, to all those who live on the
circle marked I on the earth A, in fig. 14. the moon
M cuts off or darkens a twelfth part of the sun S, and
eclipses him one digit, as at 1 in fig. 15.: to those
who live on the circle marked 2 in fig. 14. the moon
cuts off two twelfth parts of the sun, as at 2 in
fig. 15. : to those on the circle 3, three parts ; and so
on to the centre at 12 in fig. 14. where the sun is
centrally eclipsed, as at B in the middle of fig. 15. j
under which figure there is a scale of hours and mi¬
nutes, to show at a mean state how long it is from the
beginning to the end of a central eclipse of the sun on
the parallel of London; and how many digits are
eclipsed at any particular time from the beginning at
A to the middle at B, or the end at C. Thus, in 16
minutes from the beginning, the sun is two digits
eclipsed ; in an hour and five minutes, eight digits 5
and in an hour and 37 minutes, 12 digits.
By fig. 14. it is plain, that the sun is totally or
centrally eclipsed but to a small part of the earth at
any time, because the dark conical shadow e of the
moon M falls but on a small part of the earth ; and
that the partial eclipse is confined at that time to the
space included by the circle a b, of which only one half
can be projected in the figure, the other half being
supposed to be hid by the convexity of the earth E\
and likewise, that no part of the sun is eclipsed to the
large space YY of the earth, because the moon is not
between the sun and any of that part of the earth ;
and therefore to all that part the eclipse is invisible.
The earth turns eastward on its axis, as from g to h,
which is the same way that the moon’s shadow moves ;
but the moon’s motion is much swifter in her orbit
from st; and therefore, although eclipses of the sun
are of no longer duration on account of the earth’s
motion on its axis than they would be if that motion
was stopped, yet in four minutes of time at most, the
moon’s swifter motion carries her dark shadow quite
over any place that its centre touches at the time of
greatest obscuration. The motion of the shadow on the
earth’s disk is equal to the moon’s motion from the
sun, which is about 30!- minutes of a degree every
hour at a mean rate : but so much of the moon’s orbit
is equal to 30^ degrees of a great circle on the earth ;
and therefore the moon’s shadow goes 30!- degrees, or
1830 geographical miles on the earth in an hour, or
30* miles in a minute, which is almost four times as
swift as the motion of a cannon-ball.
As seen from the sun or moon, the earth’s axis ap¬
pears differently inclined every day of the year, on ac¬
count of keeping its parallelism throughout its annual
course. In fig. 16. let EDON be the earth at the
two equinoxes and the two solstices, NS its axis, N
the north pole, S the south pole, iEQ the equator,
F t
42
Apparent T the tropic of Cancer, t the tropic of Capricorn, and
Motions ABC the circumference of the earth’s enlightened disk
of the a3 seen from the sun or new moon at these times. The
^Bodies^ eart^’s ax‘s ^ias the position NES at the vernal equinox,
> ^ ' . lying towards the right hand, as seen from the sun or
new moon *, its poles N and S being then in the cir¬
cumference of the disk 5 and the equator and all its pa¬
rallels seem to be straight lines, because their planes
pass through the observer’s eye looking clown upon the
earth from the sun or moon directly over E, where the
ecliptic EG intersects the equator 7E. At the summer
solstice the earth’s axis has the position NDS j and
that part of the ecliptic EG, in which the moon is then
new, touches the tropic of Cancer T at D. The north
pole N, at that time inclining 23^ degrees towards the
sun, falls so many degrees within the earth’s enlight¬
ened disk, because the sun is then vertical to I) 234
degrees north of the equator or iEQ 5 and the equator,
with all its parallels, seem elliptic curves bending down-
ward, or towards the south pole, as seen from the sun 5
which pole, together with 23I degrees all round it, is
bid behind the disk in the dark hemisphere of the
earth. At the autumnal equinox, the earth’s axis
has the position NOS, lying to the left hand as seen
from the sun or new moon, which are then vertical to
O, where the ecliptic cuts the equator AEQ. Both
poles now lie in the circumference of the disk, the north
pole just going to disappear behind it, and the south
pole just entering into it j and the equator with all its
parallels seem to be straight lines, because their planes
pass through the observer’s eye, as seen from the sun,
and very nearly so as seen from the moon. At the
winter solstice, the earth’s axis has the position NNS,
when its south pole S inclining 23^- degrees towards the
sun, falls 23J degrees within the enlightened disk, as
seen from the sun or new moon, which are then verti¬
cal to the tropic of Capricorn t, 23^ degrees south of
the equator iEQ 5 and the equator, with all its paral¬
lels, seem elliptic curves bending upward j the north
pole being as far hid behind the disk in the dark hemi¬
sphere as the south pole is come into the light. The
nearer that any time of the year is to the equinoxes or
solstices, the more it partakes of the phenomena relat¬
ing to them.
Thus it appears, that from the vernal equinox to the
autumnal, the north pole is enlightened : and the equa¬
tor and all its parallels appear elliptical as seen from the
sun, more or less curved as the time is nearer to, or far¬
ther from, the summer solstice 5 and bending down¬
wards, or towards the south pole ) the reverse of which
happens from the autumnal equinox to the vernal. A
little consideration will be sufficient to convince the
reader, that the earth’s axis inclines towards the sun at
the summer solstice 5 from the sun at the winter sol¬
stice } and sidewise to the sun at the equinoxes : but
towards the right hand, as seen from the sun at the
vernal equinox j and towards the left hand at the au¬
tumnal. From the winter to the summer solstice, the
earth’s axis inclines more or less to the right hand, as
seen from the sun •, and the contrary from the summer
to the winter solstice.
The different positions of the earth’s axis, as seen
from the sun at different times of the year, affect solar
eclipses greatly with regard to particular places : yea,
so far as would make central eclipses which fall at one
Part I
time of the year invisible if they fell at another, even Apparer
though the moon,should always change in the nodes, Motion
and at the same hour of the day 5 of which indefinitely
various affections, we shall only give examples for the ^(^j|es<
times of the equinoxes and solstices. 1 ...
In the same diagram, let EG be part of the eclip- 109
tic, and IK, ik, ik, t k, part of the moon’s orbit;-^c''Pses
both seen edgewise, and therefore projected into right tjfcC
lines ; and let the intersections NODE be one and the 0f the
same node at the above times, when the earth has the earth’s
forementioned different positions j and let the spaces*1*!5*
included by the circles Yppp be the penumbra at
these times, as its centre is passing over the centre of
the earth’s disk. At the winter solstice, when the
earth’s axis has the position NNS, the centre of the
penumbra P touches the tropic of Capricorn £ in N at
the middle of the general eclipse j but no part of the
penumbra P touches the tropic of Cancer T. At the «
summer solstice, when the earth’s axis has the position
NDS (7DA: being then part of the moon’s orbit
whose node is at D), the penumbra p has its centre at
D, on the tropic of Cancer T, at the middle of the
general eclipse, and then no part of it touches the tro¬
pic of Capricorn t. At the autumnal equinox, the
earth’s axis has the position NOS (7 O A: being then
part of the moon’s orbit), and the penumbra equally
includes part of both tropics T and t, at the middle of
the general eclipse : at the vernal equinox it does the
same, because the earth’s axis has the position NES j
but, in the former of these two last cases, the penum¬
bra enters the earth at A, north of the tropic of Can¬
cer T, and leaves it at m south of the tropic of Capri¬
corn t, having gone over the earth obliquely southward,
as its centre described the line A.Om: whereas, in the
latter case, the penumbra touches the earth at n, south
of the equator ALQ, and describing the line nTL q (si¬
milar to the former line KOm in open space), goes ob¬
liquely northward over the earth, and leaves it at y,
north of the equator.
In all these circumstances the moon has been sup¬
posed to change at noon in her descending node : Had
she changed in her ascending node, the phenomena
would have been as various the contrary way, with re¬
spect to the penumbra’s going northward or southward
over the earth. But because the moon changes at all
hours, as often in one node as in the other, and at all
distances from them both at different times as it hap¬
pens, the variety of the phases of eclipses are almost
innumerable, even at the same places j considering
also how variously the same places are situated on the
enlightened disk of the earth, with respect to the pen¬
umbra’s motion, at the diflerent hours when eclipses
happen.
When the moon changes 17 degrees short of her de¬
scending node, the penumbra P 18 just touches the
northern part of the earth’s disk, near the north pole
N j and as seen from that place, the moon appears to
touch the. sun, but hides no part of him from sight.
Had the change been as far shcrt of the ascending
node, the penumbra would have touched the southern ,
part of the disk near the south pole S. When the moon itooi
changes 12 degrees short of the descending node, more 1 1U6'
than a third part of the penumbra P 12 falls on the
northern parts of the earth at the middle of the gene¬
ral eclipse : Had she changed as far past the same node,
as
ASTRONOMY.
:s' Bodies.
II. Pari II. A S T R
em Apparent as muc^ of the other sitle of the penumbra about P
'ns Motions would have fallen on the southern parts of the earth ;
e oftlie all the rest in the expansum, or open space. When
^ie 131<)011 changes 6 degrees from the node, almost the
whole penumbra P 6 falls on the earth at the middle
of the general eclipse. And, lastly, when the moon
changes in the node at N, the penumbra PN takes
the longest course possible on the earth’s disk: its centre
falling on the middle thereof, at the middle of the ge¬
neral eclipse. The farther the moon changes from ei¬
ther node, within 17 degrees of it, the shorter is the
penumbra’s continuance on the earth, because it goes
over a less portion of the disk, as is evident by the
no figure.
Duration The nearer that the penumbra’s centre is to the
hi ddferent e<lua^or at ^ie middle of the general eclipse, the longer
parts of the *s t*lf: ^urat30n °f tlm eclipse at all those places where
earth. it 33 central ; because, the nearer that any place is to
the equator, the greater is the circle it describes by the
earth’s motion on its axis $ and so, the place moving
quicker, keeps longer in the penumbra, whose motion
is the same way with that of the place, though faster, as
has been already mentioned. Thus (see the earth at
D and the penumbra at 12) whilst the point b in the
polar circle abed is carried from ^ to c by the earth’s
diurnal motion, the point d on the tropic of Cancer T
is carried a much greater length from 0? to D j and
therefore, if the penumbra’s centre goes one time over c
knd another time over D, the penumbra will be longer
in passing over the moving place d than it was in passing
over the moving place b. Consequently, central eclip¬
ses about the poles are of the shortest duration j and
about the equator, of the longest.
In the middle of summer, the whole frigid zone, in¬
cluded by the polar circle abed, is enlightened : and if
it then happens that the penumbra’s centre goes over
the north pole, the sun will be eclipsed' much the same
number of digits at a as at c ; but whilst the penumbra
moves eastward over c, it moves eastwai’d over a; be¬
cause, with respect to the penumbra, the motions of a
and c are contrary : for c moves the same way with the
penumbra towards d, but a moves the contrary way to¬
wards b ; and therefore the eclipse will be of longer du¬
ration at c than at a. At a the eclipse begins on the
sun’s eastern limb, but at c on his western : at all places
lying without the polar circles, the sun’s eclipses begin
on his western limb, or near it, and end on or near his
eastern. At those places where the penumbra touches
the earth, the eclipse begins with the rising sun, on the
top of his western or uppermost edge; and at those pla¬
ces where the penumbra leaves the earth, the eclipse
ends with the setting sun, on the top of his eastern edge,
which is then the uppermost, just at its disappearing in
the horizon.
About the new' moon, that part of the lunar disk
which is not illuminated by the sun is perceptible,
owing to the feeble light reflected on it by the hemi¬
sphere of the earth that is illuminated.
iii Sect. II. Of the Nature of the Moon.
toon’s ^ E have seen that the moon is about 39 times small-
fe* er than the earth. Her diameter is generally rec¬
koned about 2180 miles. This is to the diameter of the
earth nearly as 20 to 73 ; therefore, the surface of the
moon is to that of the earth (being as the squares of
O N O M Y.
43
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
their diameters) nearly as I to 14^. And, admitting
the moon’s density to be to that of the earth as 5 to 4,
their respective quantities of matter will be as 1 to 39
very nearly.
Bouguer has shown, by a set of curious experiments, u—
that the light emitted by the full moon is 300,000 112
times less intense than that of the sun. Even when ^3Sllt:-
concentrated by the most powerful mirrors, it produces
no efl'ect on the thermometer. IZ^
Many duskish spots may be seen upon the moon’s Spots on
disk, even with the naked eye; and through a tele-her
scope, their number is prodigiously increased : she also
appears very plainly to be more protuberant in the mid¬
dle than at the edges, or to have the figure of a globe
and not a flat circle. When the moon is horned or
gibbous, the one side appears very ragged and uneven,
but the other always exactly defined and circular. The
spots in the moon always keep their places exactly;
never vanishing, or going from one side to the other,
as those of the sun do. We sometimes see more or less
of the northern and southern, and eastern and western
part of the disk or face ; but this is owing to what is
called her libration, and will hereafter be explained.
The astronomers Florentius, Langrenus, John Heve-
lius of Hantzic, Grimaldus, Ricciolus, Cassini, and M.
de la Hire, have drawn the face of the moon as she is
seen through telescopes magnifying between 200 and
300 times. Particular care has been taken to note all
the shining parts in her surface ; and, for the better
distinguishing them, each has been marked with a pro¬
per name. Langrenus and Kicciolus have divided the
lunar regions among the philosophers, astronomers, and
other eminent men ; but Hevelius and others, fearing
lest the philosophers should quarrel about the division of
their lands, have endeavoured to spoil them of their
property, by giving the names belonging to different
countries, islands, and seas on earth, to different parts
of the moon’s surface, without regard to situation or
figure. The names adopted by Ricciolus, however, are
those which are generally followed, as the names of
Hipparchus, Tycho, Copernicus, &c. are more pleasing
to astronomers than those of Africa, the Mediterranean
sea, Sicily, and Mount iEtna. Fig. 17. is a tolerably
exact representation of the full moon in her mean libra¬
tion, with the numbers to the principal spots according
to Ricciolus, Cassini, Mayer, &c. The asterisk refers
to one of the volcanoes discovered by I)r Herschel, to
be afterwards more particularly noticed. The names are
as follow :
16 Timocharis.
17 Plato.
18 Archimedes.
19 Insula Sinus Medii.
20 Pitatus.
21 Tycho.
22 Eudoxus.
23 Aristoteles.
24 Manilius.
25 Menelaus.
26 Hermes.
27 Possidonius.
28 Dionysius.
29 Plinius.
Herschel’s Volcano.
Grimaldus.
Galilteus.
Aristarchus.
Keplerus.
Gassendus.
Shikardus.
Harpal us.
Heraclides.
9 Lansbergius.
10 Reinoldus.
11 Copernicus.
12 Helicon.
13 Capuanus.
14 Bullialdus.
15 Eratosthenes.
3°
F 2
C Casharina Cyrillus.
\ Theophilus.
31 Fracastorius,
44
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
40 Taruntius.
A Mare Humorum.
i? Mare Nubium.
C Mare Imbrium.
D Mare Nectaris.
£ Mare 7 ranquillitatis.
F Mare Serenitatis.
G Mare Foecunditatis.
H Mare Crisium.
114
Great ine¬
qualities on
the surface
of the
Moon.
*15
Method of
measuanij
the lunar
mountains,
rig. to.
31 Fracastorius.
„2 £ Promontoriumacutum.
^ \ Censorinus.
33 Mesala.
34 Promontorium Somnii.
3 5 Prod us.
36 Cleomedes.
37 Sndliiis et Furnerius.
38 Petavius.
39 Langrenus.
That there are prodigious inequalities on her surface,
is proved by looking at her through a telescope, at
any other time than when she is full 5 for then there is
no regular line bounding light and darkness: but the
confines of these parts appear as it were toothed and
cut with innumerable notches and breaks : and even in
the dark part, near the borders of the lucid surface,
there are seen some small spaces enlightened by the
sun s beams. Upon the fourth day after new moon,
there may be perceived some shining points like rocks
or small islands within the dark body of the moon 5 but
not far from the confines of light and darkness there
are observed other little spaces which join to the en¬
lightened surface, but run out into the dark side, which
by dvgrees change their figure, till at last they come
wholly within the illuminated face, and have no dark
parts round them at all. Afterwards many more shin¬
ing spaces are observed to arise by degrees, and to ap¬
pear within the dark side ol the moon, which before
they drew near to the confines of light and darkness
were invisible, being without any light, and totally im¬
mersed in the shadow. The contrary is observed in the
decreasing phases, where the lucid spaces which joined
the illuminated surface by degrees recede from it, and,
after they are quite separated from the confines of light
and darkness, remain for some time visible, till at last
they also disappear. Now it is impossible that this
should be the case, unless these shining points were
higher than the rest of the surface, so that the light of
the sun may reach them.
Not content with perceiving the bare existence of
these lunar mountains, astronomers have endeavoured
to measure their height in the following manner. Let
FGD be the hemisphere of the moon illuminated by
the sun, LCD the diameter of the circle bounding light
and darkness, and A the top of a hill within the dark
part when it first begins to be illuminated. Observe
with a telescope the proportion of the right line AE,
or the distance of the point A from the lucid surface
to the diameter of the moon 1,1) } and because in this
case the ray of light ES touches the globe of the moon,
AEG will be a right angle by 16th prop, of Euclid’s
third book ; and, therefore, in the triangle AEG ha¬
ving the two sides AE and EC, we can find out the
third side AC ; from which subducting BC or EG, there
will remain AB the height of the "mountain. Ric-
ciolus affirms, that upon the fourth dav after new
moon he has observed the top of the hill called St Ca¬
tharine's to be illuminated, and that it was distant from
the confines of the lucid surface about a sixteenth part
of the moon’s diameter. Therefore, if CFrr8, A E
will be 1, and AC*^CE3-}-AE* by prop. 47. of Eu¬
clid’s first book. Now, the square of CE being 64,
and the square of AE being 1, the square of AC will
be 65, whose square root is 8,062, which expresses the
3
ASTRONOMY.
Part I
of the
Heaven]
Bodies,
length of AC. From which deducting BC=r8, there Apnarer
will remain AC=o,o62. So that CB or CE is there- Motion*
fore to AB as 8 is to 0,062, that is, as 8000 is to 62.
If the diameter of the moon therefore was known, the
height of this mountain would also be known. This de¬
monstration is taken from Dr E.eill, who supposes the
semidiameter of the moon to be 1182 miles j according
to which, the mountain must be somewhat more than
nine miles of perpendicular height: but astronomers ha¬
ving now determined the moon’s semidiameter to be only
1090 miles, the height of the mountain will be nearly
84- miles. J
In the former edition of this work, we could not oj
help making some remarks on the improbability that the lunar
the mountains of the moon, a planet so much inferior U100ntaini
in size to the earth, should exceed in such vast propor-0Terrated'
tion the highest of our mountains, which are com¬
puted at little more than one-third of the height just
mentioned. Our remark is now confirmed by the ob- Dr HeV
servations of Dr Herschel. After explaining the me-schel’s ob.
thod used by Galileo, Hevelius, &c. for measuringserTation*
the lunar mountains, he tells us, that the former takes" tbcm‘
the distance of the top of a lunar mountain from the
line that divides the illuminated part of the disk from
that which is in the shade to be equal to one-twentieth
of the moon’s diameter j but Hevelius makes it only
one twenty-sixth. When we calculate the height o"f
such a mountain, therefore, it will be found, accord¬
ing to Galileo, almost 54 miles j and according to He¬
velius 34 miles, admitting the moon’s diameter to be
2180 miles. Mr Ferguson, however, says (Astrono¬
my Explained, § 252.), that some of her mountains,
by comparing their height with her diameter, are
found to be three times higher than the highest hills
on earth: and Keill, in his Astronomical Lectures, has*
calculated the height of St Catharine’s hill, according
to the observations of Ricciolus, and finds it nine milts.
Having premised these accounts, Dr Herschel explains
his method of taking the height of a lunar mountain
from observations made when the moon was not in her
quadrature, as the method laid down by Hevelius an¬
swers only to that particular case j for in all others the
projection must appear shorter than it really is. “ Let
SLM, says he, or s / m, (fig. 96.) be a line drawn
from the sun to the mountain, touching the moon at
L or l, and the mountain at M or m. Then, to an
observer at E, or <?, the lines LM, l ?», will not ap¬
pear of the same length, though the mountain should
be of an equal height j for LM will be projected into
0 n, and / m into ON. But these are the quantities
that are taken by the micrometer when we observe a
mountain to project from the line of illumination. From
the observed quantity 0 «, when the moon is not in her
quadrature, to find LM, we have the following amw
logy. The triangles 0 OL, r ML, are similar 5 "there¬
fore L 0 : LO ; : L r : LM. or
:LM: but
LO is the radius of the moon, and L r or 0 n is the
observed distance of the mountain’s projection ; and Lo
is the sme of the angle ROL = o LS j which we may
take to be the distance of the sun from the moon with¬
out any material error, and which therefore we may find
at any given time from the ephemeris.”
The telescope used in these observations was a
Newtonian
Part II. A S T E O N O M Y.
Apparent Newtonian reflector of six feet eight inches focal length, he would have found
45
Motions to which a micrometer was adapted, consisting of two
of the parallel hairs, one of which was moveable by means of
Bodies. a ^ine screw* The value of the parts shown by the in-
i——y—dex was determined by a trigonometrical observation
of a known object at a known distance, and was veri¬
fied by several trials. The power was always 222, ex¬
cepting where another is expressly mentioned ; and
this was also determined by experiment, which frequent¬
ly differs from theory on account of some small errors in
the data, hardly to be avoided. The moon having suf¬
ficient light, an aperture of no more than four inches
was made use of; and, says Dr Herschel, “ 1 believe,
that for distinctness of vision, this instrument is perhaps
equal to any that ever was made.”
With this instrument he observed a prominence,
which he calls a rock, situated near the Lacus Niger of
Hevelius, and found that it projected 41.56". To
reduce this into miles, put R for the semidiameter of
the moon in seconds, as given by the nautical alma¬
nack at the time of observation, and Q for the observed
quantity, also in seconds and centesimals ; then it will
be in general, R : 1090 :: Q : —0 n in miles.
R
The
Thus it is found, that 41.56" is 46 79 miles,
distance of the sun from the moon at that time was,
by the nautical almanack, about 93° 57^'; the sine of
which to the radius 1 is .998 c, &c. and in this case
is LM—46.85 miles. Then, by Hevelius’s method,
the perpendicular height of the rock is found to be
about one mile. At the same time, a great many
rocks, situated about the middle of the disk, projected
from 25.927 to 26.56"; which gives on about 29.3
miles : so that these rocks are all less than half a mile
high.
These observations were made on the 13th of No¬
vember 1779. On the 13th of January 1780, exa¬
mining the mountains of the moon, he found that
there was not one of them fairly placed on level ground,
which is very necessary for an exact measurement of
the projection: for if there should be a declivity on
the moon before the mountains, or a tract of hills pla¬
ced so as to cast a shadow upon that part before them
which would otherwise be illuminated, the projection
tvould appear too large ; and, on the contrary, should
there be a rising ground before them, it would appear
too little.
Proceeding in this cautious manner, Dr Herschel
measured the height of many of the lunar prominences,
and draws at last the following conclusions.—“ From
these observations I believe it is evident, that the height
of the lunar mountains in general is greatly overrated ;
and that, when we have excepted a few, the genera¬
lity do not exceed half a mile in their perpendicular
elevation. It is not so easy to find any certain moun¬
tain exactly in the same situation it has been measured
iu before ; therefore some little difference must be ex¬
pected in these measures. Hitherto I have not had an
opportunity of particularly observing the three moun¬
tains mentioned by Hevelius ; nor that which Riccio-
lus found to project a sixteenth part of the moon’s dia¬
meter. 11 Keill had calculated the height of this last-
nieqtioned hill according to the theorem I had given,
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
11S
(supposing the observation to Apparent
have been made, as he says, on the fourth day after Motions
new moon) that its perpendicular height could not
well be less than between 11 and x 2 miles. I shall
not fail to take the first opportunity of observing these >
four, and every other mountain of any eminence; and
if other persons, who are furnished with good tele¬
scopes and micrometers, would take the quantity of
the projection of the lunar mountains, 1 make no doubt
hut that we would be nearly as well acquainted with
their heights, as we are with the elevation of our own.
One caution I would beg leave to mention to those Caution to
who may use the excellent 3^ feet refractors of MrbGobse,,wi
Dollond. The admirable quantity of light, which on s
most occasions is so desirable, will probably give the tdescopes.
measure of the projection somewhat larger than the true,
if not guarded against by proper limitations placed
before the object-glass. I have taken no notice of any
allowance to be made for the refraction a ray of light
must suffer in passing through the atmosphere of the
moon, when it illuminates the top of the mountain,
whereby its apparent height will be lessened, as we are
too little acquainted with that atmosphere to take it
into consideration. It is also to be observed, that this
would equally affect the conclusions of Hevelius, and
therefore the difference in our inferences would still re¬
main the same.”
In the continuation of his observations, Dr Her-
sehel informs us that he had measured the height of
one of the mountains that had been measured by He¬
velius. “ Antitaurus (says he), the mountain mea¬
sured by Hevelius, was badly situated : because Mount
Moschus and its neighbouring hills cast a deep shadow,
which may be mistaken for the natural convexity of
the moon. A good, full, but just measure, 25.105’';
in miles, 29.27: therefore LM 31.7 miles, and the
perpendicular height not quite half a mile. As great
exactness was desired in this observation, it was repeat¬
ed with very nearly the same result. Several other
mountains were measured by the same method; and
all h is observations concurred in making the height of
the lunar mountains much less than what former astro¬
nomers had done. Mount Lipulus was found to be near
two-thirds of a mile; one of the Apennine mountains,
between Lacus Thrasimenus and Pontus Euxinus, mea¬
sured a mile and a quarter; Mons Armenia, near Taur
rus, two-thirds of a mile ; Mons Leucoptera three quar¬
ters of a mile. Mons Sacer projected 45.625"; ‘ but
(says he) I am almost certain that there are two very
considerable cavities, or places where the ground de¬
scends below the level of the convexity, just before these
mountains; so that these measures must of course be a
good deal too large ; but supposing them to be just, it
follows, that on is 50.193 miles, LM=64 miles, and
the perpendicular height above one mile and three-
fourths.’ x
As the moon has on its surface mountains and valT Volcanoes
leys in common with the earth, some modern astrono-discovered
mers have discovered a still greater similarity, viz. that*11 t*ie
some of these are really volcanoes, emitting fire as those m0°n’
on earth do. An appearance of this kind was disco¬
vered some years ago by Don Ulloa in an eclipse of
the sun. It was a small bright spot like a star near
the margin of the moon, and which he at that time
supposed to have been a hole with the sun’s light shinn¬
ing .
45
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent mg through it. Succeeding observations, however,
Motions have induced astronomers to attribute appearances of
Heavcnl • t^1’S eruPti°n of volcanic lire ; and Dr
Bodies. Herschel has particularly observed several eruptions of
'.j the lunar volcanoes, the last of which he gives an ac¬
count ol in the Phil. Trans, for 1787. “ April 19.
10 h. 36 m. sidereal time. I perceive (says he) three
volcanoes in different places of the dark part of the
new moon. Two of them are either already nearly
extinct, or otherwise in a state of going to break out ;
which perhaps may be decided next lunation. The
third shows an actual eruption of fire or luminous mat¬
ter. I measured the distance of the crater from the
northern limb of the moon, and found it 3' 57.3" ; its
light is much brighter than the nucleus of the comet
which M. Mechain discovered at Paris the 10th of this
month.
“ April 20. 10 h. 2 m. sidereal time. The volcano
burns with greater violence than last night. Its dia¬
meter cannot be less than 3 sec. by comparing it with
that of the Georgian planet: as Jupiter was near at
hand, I turned the telescope to his third satellite, and
estimated the diameter of the burning part of the vol¬
cano to be equal to at least twice that of the satellite;
whence we may compute that the shining or burning
matter must be above three miles in diameter. It is
of an irregular round figure, and very sharply defined
on the edges. The other two volcanoes are much far¬
ther towards the centre of the moon, and resemble
large, pretty faint nebulse, that are gradually much
brighter in the middle ; but no well defined luminous
spot can be discerned in them. These three spots are
plainly to be distinguished from the rtst of the marks
upon the moon ; for the reflection of the sun’s rays
from the earth is, in its present situation, sufiiciently
bright, with a ten feet reflector, to show the moon’s
spots, even the darkest of them ; nor did I perceive any
similar phenomena last lunation, though I then viewed
the same places with the same instrument.
“ The appearance of what I have called the actual
Jlre, or eruption of a volcano, exactly resembled a
small piece of burning charcoal when it is covered by
a very thin coat of white ashes, which frequently ad¬
here to it when it has been some time ignited j and it
had a degree of brightness about as strong as that with
which such a coal would be seen to glow in faint day¬
light. All the adjacent parts of the volcanic moun¬
tain seemed to be faintly illuminated by the eruption,
and were gradually more obscure as they lay at a
greater distance from the crater. This eruption re¬
sembled much that 'which I saw on the 4th of May in
the year 1783, but differed considerably in magnitude
and brightness j for the volcano of the year 1783,
though much brighter than that which is now burning,
was not nearly (SO large in the dimensions of its erup¬
tion : the former seen in the telescope resembled a star
of the fourth magnitude as it appears to the naked
eye ; this, on the contrary, show’s a visible disk of lu¬
minous matter very different from the sparkling bright-
120 ness of star light.”
Conjectures Concerning the nature of the moon’s substance there
concerning have been many conjectures formed. Some have ima-
8taDc'e>" ?ine(i> that, besides the light reflected from the sun,
the moon hath also some obscure light of her own, by
which she would be visible without being illuminated
Part I
of the
Heavenl
Bodies,
by the sunbeams. In proof of this it is urged, that Apparen
during the time of even total eclipses the moon is still Motion
visible, appearing of a dull red colour, as if obscured
by a great deal of smoke. In reply to this it hath
been advanced, that this is not always the case 5 die
moon sometimes disappearing totally in the time of
an eclipse, so as not to be discernible by the best glas¬
ses, while little stars of the fifth and sixth magnitudes
were distinctly seen as usual. This phenomenon was
observed by Kepler twice, in the years 1580 and 158:3 ;
and by Hevelius in 1620. Ricciolus and other Je¬
suits at Bologna, and many people throughout Hol¬
land, observed the same on April 14. 1642: yet at
Venice and Vienna she was all the time conspicuous.
In the year 1703, Dec. 23. there was another total
obscuration. At Arles, she appeared of a yellowish
brown ; at Avignon, ruddy and transparent, as if the
sun had shone through her j at Marseilles, one part
W’as reddish and the other very dusky $ and at length,
though in a clear sky, she totally disappeared. The
general reason for her appearance at all during the time
of eclipses shall be given afterwards : but as for these
particular phenomena, they have not yet, as far as we
know, been satisfactorily accounted for.
Different conjectures have also been formed concern¬
ing the spots on the moon’s surface. Some philosophers
have been so taken with the beauty of the brightest
places observed in her disk, that they have imagined
them to be rocks of diamonds j and others have com¬
pared them to pearls and precious stones. Dr Keill
and the greatest part of astronomers now are of opi¬
nion, that these are only the tops of mountains, which
by reason of their elevation are more capable of re¬
flecting the sun’s light than others which are low’er.
The duskish spots, he says, cannot be seas, nor any
thing of a liquid substance; because, when examined
by the telescope, they appear to consist of an infinity
of caverns and empty pits, whose shadows fall wdthin
them, which can never be the case with seas, or any
liquid substance: but, even within these spots, bright¬
er places are also to be observed ; which, according to
bis hypothesis, ought to be the points of rocks standing-
up within the cavities. Dr Dong, however, is of opi¬
nion, that several of the dark spots on the moon are
really water. May not the lunar seas and lakes (savs
he) have islands in them, wherein there may be pits
and caverns ? And if some of these dark parts be
brighter than others, may not that be owing to the seas
and lakes being of different depths, and to their having
rocks in some places and flats in others ?
It has also been urged, that if all the dark spots ob¬
served' on the moon’s surface were really the shadows
of mountains, or of the sides of deep pits, they could
not possibly be so permanent as they are found to be :
but would vary according to the position of the moon
with regard to the sun, as we find shadows on earth
are varied according as the earth is turned towards or
from the sun. Accordingly it is pretended, that va¬
riable spots are actually discovered on the moon’s disk
and that the direction of these is always opposite to the
sun. Hence they are found among those parts which
are soonest illuminated in the increasing moon, and
in the decreasing moon lose their light sooner than
the intermediate ones ; running round, and appearing
sometimes longer, and sometimes shorter. The per¬
manent
Part II.
Apparent manent dark spots, therefore, it is said, must be some
Motions .matter which is not fitted for reflecting the rays of the
ofthe sun so much as the bright parts do : and this property,
^Botbes V we kno'v by experience, belongs to water rather than
. ‘ j land; whence these philosophers conclude, that the
moon, as well as our earth, is made up of land anti
seas.
Whether It ^as been a matter of dispute whether the moon
the moon has any atmosphere or not. The following argu~
1ms any at- ments have been urged by those who take the negative
mosphere. s|(]e>
I. The moon constantly appears with the same
brightness when there are no clouds in our atmosphere ;
which could not be the case if she were surrounded
with an atmosphere like ours, so variable in its density,
and so frequently obscured by clouds and vapours.
2. In an appulse of the moon to a star, when she comes
so near it that part of her atmosphere is interposed be¬
tween our eye and the star, refraction would cause the
latter to seem to change its place, so that the moon
would appear to touch it later than by her own mo¬
tion she would do. 3. Some philosophers are of opi¬
nion, that because there are no seas or lakes in the
moon, there is therefore no atmosphere, as there is no
water to be raised up in vapours.
All these arguments, however, have been answered
by other astronomers in the following manner. 1. It
is denied that the moon appears always with the same
brightness, even when our atmosphere appears equally
clear. Hevelius relates, that he has several times found
in skies perfectly clear, when even stars of the sixth
and seventh magnitude were visible, that at the same
altitude of the moon, and the same elongation from the
earth, and with one and the same telescope, the moon
and its maculae do not appear equally-lucid, clear, and
conspicuous at all times j hut are much brighter and
more distinct at some times than at others. From the
circumstances of this observation, say they, it is evi¬
dent that the reason of this phenomenon is neither in
our air, in the tube, in the moon, nor in the spectator’s
eye ; hut must be looked for in something existing
about the moon. An additional argument is drawn
from the different appearances of the moon already
mentioned in total eclipses, which are supposed to be
owing to the different constitutions of the lunar atmo¬
sphere.
To the second argument Dr Long replies, that Sir
Isaac Newton has shown (Princip. prop. 3'7. cor. 5.),
that the weight of any body upon the moon is but a
third part of what the weight of the same would be
hythe upon the earth; now the expansion of the air is reci-
ht it not procally as the weight that compresses it: the air,
"racted therefore, surrounding the moon, being pressed toge-
oon’t at a or ,je‘ng attracted towards the centre
jtosphere." .t*le moon ^7 a I°rce eflual only to one-third of that
which attracts our air towards the centre of the earth,
it thence follows, that the lunar atmosphere is only
one-third as dense as that of the earth, which is too
little to produce any sensible refraction of the stars
light. Other astronomers have contended that such
refraction was sometimes very apparent. M. Cassini
says that he frequently observed Saturn, Jupiter, and
the fixed stars, to have their circular figure changed in¬
to an elliptical one, when they approached either to
the moon’s dark or illuminated limb 3 though they
47
own, that in other occultations no such change could Apparent
be observed. With regard to the fixed stars, indeed, Motions
it has been urged, that granting the moon to have ofthe
an atmosphere of the same nature and quantity as ours, Keenly
no such effect aS a gradual diminution of light ought, .
to take place j at least, that we could by no means be
capable of perceiving it. Our atmosphere is found to
be so rare at the height of 44 miles as to be incapable
of refracting the rays of light. This height is the
180th part of the earth’s diameter j but since clouds
are never observed higher than four miles, we must
conclude that the vaporous or obscure part is only one
1980th. The mean apparent diameter of the moon
is 31' 29", or 1889 seconds ; therefore the obscure parts
ol her atmosphere, when viewed from the earth, must
subtend an angle of less than one second j which space
is passed over by the moon in less than two seconds of
time. It can therefore hardly be expected that obser¬
vation should generally determine whether the supposed
obscuration takes place or not.
The third argument is necessarily inconclusive, be¬
cause we know not whether there is any water in the
moon or not ; nor though this could be demonstrated,
would it follow that the lunar atmosphere answers no
other purpose than the raising of water into vapour.
I here is, however, a strong argument in favour of
the existence of a lunar atmosphere, taken from the *23
appearance of a luminous ring round the moon in the I:uminoiiE
time of solar eclipses. In the eclipse of May 1. 1706,
Captain Stanyan, from Bern in Switzerland, writes, the mooif
that “ the sun was totally darkened there for the in total
space of four minutes and a half: that a fixed star andecliPses'
planet appeared very bright: that his getting out of the
eclipse was preceded by a blood-red streak of light
from his left limb, which continued not longer than six
or seven seconds of time j then part of the sun’s disk
appeared all on a sudden, brighter than Venus was ever
seen in the night 5 and in that very instant gave light
and shadow to tilings as strong as moon light uses to
do.” The publisher of this account observes that the
red streak of light preceding the emersion of the sun’s
body, is a px-oof that the moon has an atmosphere j and
its short continuance of five or six seconds shows that its
height is not more than the five or six hundredth part
of her diameter.
Fatio, who observed the same eclipse at Geneva,
tells us, that “ there was seen during the whole time
of the total immersion, a whiteness which seemed to
break out from behind the moon, and to encompass
her on all sides equally : this whiteness was not well
defined on its outward side, and the breadth of it was
not a twelfth part of the diameter of the moon. The
planet appeai-ed very black, and her disk very well de¬
fined within the whiteness which encompassed it about,
and was of the same colour as that of a white crown
or halo, of about four or five degrees in diameter,
which accompanied it, and had the moon for its centre.
A little after the sun had begun to appear again, the
whiteness, and the crown which had encompassed the
moon, did entirely vanish.” “ I must add (says Dr
Long), that this description is a little perplexed, ei¬
ther through the fault of the author or of the trans¬
lator j for I suppose Fatio wrote in Fi’ench : however,
it plainly appears by it that the moon’s atmosphere was
visible, surrounded by a light of larger extent, which
u
ASTRONOMY.
4B
A
S T B O
A pj) are at 1 think must be that luminous appearance (the zodiacal
Motions light) mentioned from Cassini.” Flamstead, who pub¬
lished tins account, takes notice, that, according to
these observations, the altitude of the moon’s atmo¬
sphere cannot be well supposed less than 180 geogra¬
phical miles; and that probably this atmosphere was
never discovered before the eclipse, by reason of the
smallness of the refraction, and the want of proper ob¬
servations.
An account of the same eclipse, as it appeared at
Zurich, is given by Dr Scheuchzer, in the following
words : “ We had an eclipse of the sun, which was
both total and annular; total, because the whole sun
was covered by the moon ; annular, not what is pro-
perly so called, but by refraction : for there appeared
round the moon a bright shining, which was owing to
the rays of the sun refracted through the atmosphere of
the moon.”
Dom. Cassini, from a number of accounts sent him
from different parts, says, that in all those places where
it was total, during the time of total darkness, there
was seen round the moon a crown or broad circle of
pale light, the breadth whereof was about a 12th part
of the moon’s diameter : that at Montpelier, where the
observers were particularly attentive to see if they
could distinguish the zodiacal light already mentioned,
they took notice of a paler light of a larger extent,
which surrounded the crown of light before mentioned,
and spread itself on each side of it, to the distance of
four degrees. He then mentions Kepler’s opinion, that
the crown of light which appears round the moon du¬
ring the total darkness in an eclipse of the sun is caused
by some celestial matter surrounding the moon, of suffi¬
cient density to receive the rays of the sun and send
them to us; and that the moon may have an atmo¬
sphere similar to that of our earth, which may refract
the sun’s light.
A total eclipse of the sun was observed on the 22d
of April O. S. in the year 1715, by Dr Halley at Lon¬
don, and by M. Louville of the Academy of Sciences
at Paris. Dr Halley relates, that “ when the first part
of the sun remained on his east side, it grew very faint,
and was easily supportable to the naked eye even through
the telescope, for above a minute of time before the
total darkness; whereas, on the contrary, the eye could
not endure the splendour of the emerging beams through
the telescope even from the first moment. To this,
two causes perhaps concurred : the one, that the pupil
of the eye did necessarily dilate itself during the dark¬
ness, which before had been much contracted by look¬
ing on the sun : the other that the eastern parts of
the moon, having been heated with a day near as long
as 30 of ours, must of necessity have that part of its
atmosphere replete with vapours raised by the so long
continued action of the sun ; and, by consequence, it
was more dense near the moon’s surface, and more
capable of obstructing the aim’s beams ; whereas at
the same time the western edge of the moon had suf¬
fered as long a night, during which there might fall in
dew's all the vapours that were raised in the preceding
long day ; and for that reason, that that part of its
atmosphere might be seen much more pure and trans¬
parent.
“ About two minutes before the total immersion,
the remaining part of the sun was reduced to a very
ROM Y.
Part II
124.
Dr Halley's
account of
a solar
eclipse in
fine horn, whose extremities seemed to lose their acute- Apparent
ness, and to become round like stars ; and for the Motions
space of about a quarter of a minute a small piece of of the
the southern horn of the eclipse seemed to be cut off" ^j^iies^
from the rest by a good interval, and appeared like an > t
oblong star rounded at both ends ; which appearance
would proceed from no other cause but the inequalities
of the moon’s surface; there being some elevated parts
thereof near the moon’s southern pole, by whose inter¬
position part of that exceedingly fine filament of light
was intercepted. A few seconds before the sun was
totally hid, there discovered itself round the moon a
luminous ring, about a digit, or perhaps a tenth part of
the moon’s diameter in breadth. It was of a pale white¬
ness, or rather of a pearl colour, seeming to me a little
tinged with the colour of the iris, and to be concentric
with the moon; whence I concluded it the moon’s at¬
mosphere. But the great height of it, far exceeding
that of our earth’s atmosphere, and the observations of
some who found the breadth of the ring to increase on
the west side of the moon as the emersion approached,
together with the contrary sentiments of those whose
judgments I shall always revere, make me less con¬
fident, especially in a matter to which I gave not all the
attention requisite
125
“ Whatever it was, the ring appeared much brighter Flashes of
and whiter near the body of the moon than at a di- ap-
stance from it; and its outward circumference, w^‘c^ from
was ill defined, seemed terminated only by the extreme tjie
rarity of the matter of which it was composed, and in moon,
all respects resembled the appearance of an enlightened
atmosphere seen from far : but whether it belonged to
the sun or moon, I shall not pretend to determine.
During the whole time of the total eclipse, I kept my
telescope constantly fixed on the moon, in order to ob¬
serve what might occur in this uncommon appearance ;
and I saw perpetual flashes or coruscations of light,
which seemed for a moment to dart out from behind
the moon, now here, now there, on all sides, but
more especially on the western side, a little before the
emersion ; and about two or three seconds before it, on
the same western side, where the sun was just coming
out, a long and very narrow streak of dusky but strong
red light seemed to colour the dark edge of the moon,
though nothing like it had been seen immediately after
the immersion. But this instantly vanished after the ap¬
pearance of the sun, as did also the aforesaid lumi¬
nous ring.”
Mr Louville relates, that a luminous ring of a silver Mr Lou-
colour appeared round the moon as soon as the sun was ville's ob-
entirely covered by her disk, and disappeared the mo-serTat*cas‘
ment he recovered his light; and this ring was bright¬
est near the moon, and grew gradually fainter towards
its outer circumference, where it was, however, de¬
fined ; that it was not equally bright all over, but had
several breaks in it: but he makes no doubt of its be¬
ing occasioned by the moon’s atmosphere, and thinks
that the breaks in it were occasioned by the mountains
of the moon ; he says also, that this ring had the
moon, and not the sun, for its centre, during the whole
time of its appearance. Another proof brought by
him of the moon having an atmosphere is, that, to¬
wards the end of the total darkness, there was seen on
that side of the moon on which the sun was going to
appear, a piece of a circle, of a lively red, which might
be
tie
atirn
Part IL
Apparent be owing to the red rays that are least refrangible be-
Motions ing transmitted through the moon’s atmosphere in the
of the greatest quantity : and that he might be assured this
1 Bodies ? re^ness not proceed from the glasses of his telescope,
' - he took care to bring the red part into the middle of
his glasses
ASTRONOMY. 49
without the luminous stfeaks or flashes of lightning Apparent
above-mentioned $ it is even taken notice of by Plutarch: Mo:ions
however, some members of the academy at Paris have 01 **ie.
endeavoured to account for both these phenomena Bodies,
without having recourse to a lunar atmosphere ; and
f See N°
14. et geq
Lightning Pie lays great stress on the streaks of light which he
TtTuentSaw ^art instantaIieousIy from different places of the
nthe'1”611 moon during the time of total darkness, but chiefly
[noon. near the eastern edge of the disk : these he takes to be
lightning, such as a spectator would see flashing from
the dark hemisphere of the earth, if he were placed
Upon the moon, and saw the earth come between him¬
self and the sun. “ Now (says Dr Long) it is highly
probable, that if a man had, at any time, a view of
that half of the earth where it is night, he would see
lightning in some part of it or other.” Louville farther
observes, that the most mountainous countries are most
liable to tempests j and that mountains being more fre¬
quent in the moon, and higher, than on earth*, thun¬
der and lightning must be more frequent there than
with us 5 and that the eastern side of the moon would
be most subject to thunder and lightning, those parts
having been heated by the sun for half the month
immediately preceding. It must here be observed, that
Halley, in mentioning these flashes, says they seemed
to come from behind the moon ; and Louville, though
he says they came sometimes from one part and some¬
times from another, owns, that he himself only saw
them near the eastern part of the disk ; and that, not
knowing at that time what it was that he saw, he did
not take notice whether the same appearance was to
be seen on other parts of the moon or not. He tells
us, however, of an English astronomer, who presented
the Royal Society with a draught of what he saw in
the moon at the time of this eclipse 5 from which Lou¬
ville seems to conclude, that lightnings had been ob¬
served by that astronomer near the centre of the moon’s
disk. “ Now (says Mr Long) thunder and lightning
would be a demonstration of the moon having" an at¬
mosphere similar to ours, Avherein vapours and exhala¬
tions may be supported, and furnish materials for
clouds, storms, and tempests. But the strongest proof
brought by Louville of the moon having an atmosphere
is this, that as soon as the eclipse began, those parts of
the sun which were going to be hid by the moon grew
sensibly palish as the former came near them, suffering
beforehand a kind of imperfect eclipse or diminution of
light j this would be owing to nothing else but the
atmosphere of the moon, the eastern part whereof
going before her reached the sun before the moon did.
As to the great height of the lunar atmosphere, which
from the breadth of the luminous ring, being about a
whole digit, would upon a calculation come out 180
128
I'eat
light of
He lunar
‘mosphere
‘counted miles» above three times as high as the atmosphere of
the earth, Louville thinks that no objection ; since if
the moon were surrounded with an atmosphere of the
same nature with that which encompasses the earth, the
gravitation thereof towards the moon would be but one
third of that of our atmosphere toxvards the earth $ and
consequently its expansion would make the height of it
three times as great from the moon as is the height of
our atmosphere from the earth.” •
The same luminous ring has been observed in other
total eclipses, and even in such as are annular, though
Vol. III. Part I. f
for this purpose they made the following experiments: I2p
The image of the sun coming through a small hole in-These phe-
to a darkened room, was received upon a circle of wood nomena
or metal of a diameter a good deal larger than that °^ccounted
the sun’s image ; then the shadow of this opaque circle for<
was cast upon whitepaper, and there appeared round it,
on the paper, a luminous circle such as that which sur¬
rounds the moon. The like experiment being made
with a globe of wood and with another of stone not po¬
lished, the shadows of both these cast upon paper were
surrounded xvith a palish light, most vivid near the
shadows, and gradually more diluted at a distance from
them. They observe also, that the ring round the moon
was seen in the eclipse of 1706 by Wurzelbaur, who
cast her shadow upon white paper. The same appear¬
ance was observed on holding an opaque globe in the
sun, so as to cover his whole body from the eye ; for,
looking at it through a smoked glass, in order to pre¬
vent the eye from being hurt by the glare of light it
would otherwise be exposed to, the globe appeared xvith
a light resembling that round the moon in a total eclipse
of the sun.
Thus they solve the phenomenon of the ring seen
round the moon by the inflection, or diffraction as they
call it, of the solar rays passing near an opaque sub¬
stance. As for the small streaks of light above-men¬
tioned, and which are supposed to be lightning, they
explain these by an hypothesis concerning the cavities
of the moon themselves ; which they consider as con¬
cave mirrors reflecting the light of the sun nearly to the
same point; and as these are continually changing their
situation with great velocity by the moon’s motion from
the sun, the light which any one of them sends to our
eye is seen but for a moment. This, however, will
not account for the flashes, if any such there are, seen
near the centre of the disk, though it does, in no very
satisfactory manner, account for those at the edges.
It has already been observed, that the occupations ofOcculta-
the fixed stars and planets by the moon, in general hap-dons of the
pen without any kind of refraction of their light bv®xc<^ stars
the lunar atmosphere. The contrary, however, has^0^e
sometimes been observed, and the stars have been seen
manifestly to change their shape and colour on going
behind the moon’s disk. An instance of this happen¬
ed on the 28th of June N. S. in the year 1715, xvhen
an occupation of Venus by the moon happened in the
day-time. Some astronomers in France observing this
with a telescope, saw Venus change colour for about a
minute before she was hid by the moon ; and the same
change of colour was observed immediately after her
emersion from behind the disk. At both times the
edge of the disk of Venus that was nearest the moon
appeared reddish, and that which was most distant of a
bluish colour. These appearances, hoxvever, which
might have been taken for proofs of a lunar atmo¬
sphere, were supposed to be owing to the observers ha¬
ving directed the axis of their telescopes toxvards the
moon. This would necessarily cause any planet or star
near the edge of the moon’s disk to be seen through
those parts of the glasses which are near their circum-
G fei ence,
50
ASTRONOMY.
Part I
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Moon has
no sensible
atmosphere
*32
Turns
round her
133
Libration
of the
uioaa.
ference, and consequently to appear coloured. This
was evidently the case from other observations of an
occultation of Jupiter by the moon the same year,
when no such appearance of refraction could be per-
j ceived while he was kept in the middle of the tele¬
scope. Maraldi also informs us, that he had observed
before this two other occultations of Venus and one
of Jupiter 5 and was always attentive to see whether
those planets changed their figure or colour either up¬
on the approach of the moon to cover them, or at
their first coming again into sight j but never could
perceive any such thing. Nor could he, in a great
number of occultations of the fixed stars, perceive
the smallest apparent change in any of them, except¬
ing once that a fixed star seemed to increase its di¬
stance a little from the moon as it was going to be co¬
vered by her j but this, he suspected, might be owing
to his telescope being directed so as to have the star
seen too far from the middle of its aperture. He con¬
cludes, therefore, that the moon has no atmosphere :
and he remarks, that at Montpelier, perhaps because
the air is clearer there than at London, the luminous
ring round the moon appeared much larger than at
London j that it was very white near the moon, and
gradually decreasing in brightness, formed round her
a circular area of about eight degrees in diameter.
If, says he, this light was caused by the atmosphere of
the moon, of what a prodigious extent must that at¬
mosphere be ?
We have related all these opinions at full length, in
order to put our readers in possession of the arguments
'that have been advanced upon this subject j but it is
now generally admitted, and indeed, scarcely can be
denied, that the atmosphere of the moon, if it really
has any, is almost entirely insensible.
From the spots upon the moon’s disk it has been as¬
certained, that the same hemisphere of that luminary
is always directed towards the earth. Hence it follows
that she turns round her axis once during every revolu¬
tion round the earth.
F.xact observations have ascertained that slight va¬
rieties take place respecting the appearances of the
moon’s disk. The spots are observed alternately to
approach towards and recede from the edge of the
moon. Those that are very near the edge appear and
disappear alternately, making periodical oscillations,
which are'distinguished by the name of the libration of
the moon. To form a precise idea of the nature of this
libration, we must consider that the disk of the moon,
seen from the centre of the earth, is terminated by the
circumference of a great circle of the moon, perpendi¬
cular to a line drawn from the earth’s centre to that
of the moon. The lunar hemisphere is projected upon
the plane of this circle turned towards the earth,
and its appearances are due to the movements of ro¬
tation of that body relative to its radius vector. If the
moon did not revolve round her axis, this radius vector
would describe a great circle on the moon’s surface, all
the points of which would present themselves succes¬
sively to us. But the moon, revolving in the same time
that this radius vector describes the great circle, always
keeps the same point of the circle nearly upon the ra¬
dius, and of course the same hemisphere turned towards
the earth. The inequalities of her motion produce the
slight variations in her appearance : for the rotation Apparer
of the moon does not partake sensibly of these irregula- Motion
of the
Heaven]
Bodies.
rities. Hence it varies somewhat relatively to the ra¬
dius vector, which accordingly cuts successively differ¬
ent points of the surface. Of course the globe of the
moon makes oscillations relatively to that radius corre¬
sponding to the inequalities of her motions, which al¬
ternately conceal from our view and discover to us
some parts of her surface.
Farther : the axis of rotation of the moon is not ex¬
actly perpendicular to the plane of her orbit. If we
suppose the position of this axis fixed, during a revolu¬
tion of the moon it inclines more or less to the radius
vector, so that the angle formed by these two lines is
acute during one part of her revolution, and obtuse du¬
ring another part of it. Hence the poles of rotation
are alternately visible from the earth, and those parts of
her surface that are near these poles.
Besides all this, the observer is not placed at the
centre of the earth, but at its surface. It is the radius
drawn from his eye to the centre of the moon, which
determines the middle point of her visible hemisphere.
But in consequence of the lunar parallax, it is obvious
that this radius must cut the surface of the moon in
points sensibly different according to the height of that
luminary above the horizon. All these causes concur
to produce the libration of the moon, a phenomenon
which is merely optical, and not connected with her
rotation, which relatively to us is perfectly equable, or
at least if it be subjected to any irregularities, they are
too small to be observed. ^
This is not the case with the variations in the plane Theory of
of the moon’s equator. While endeavouring to de-it*
termine its position by the lunar spots, Cassini was led
to this remarkable conclusion, which includes the whole
astronomical theory of the real libration of that lumi¬
nary. Conceive a plane passing through the centre of
the moon perpendicular to her axis of rotation, and of
course coinciding with the plane of her equator $ con¬
ceive a second plane, parallel to the ecliptic, to pass
through the same centre j and also a third plane, which
is the mean plane of the lunar orbit: these three planqs
have a common intersection ; the second, placed be¬
tween the two others, forms with the first an angle of
l°.503, and with the third an angle of 50.14692’,
therefore the intersections of the lunar equator with
the ecliptic coincide always with the mean nodes of the
lunar orbit, and like them have a retrograde motion,
which is completed in the period of 6793.3009 days.
During that interval the two poles of the equator and
lunar orbit describe small circles parallel to the eclip¬
tic, enclosing between them the pole of the ecliptic, so
that these three poles are constantly upon a great circle
of the heavenly sphere.
His
till
Chap. III. Of the Planets.
Amidst the infinite variety of stars which occupy a
place in the sphere of the heavens, and which occupy
nearly the same relative position with respect to each
other, there are eight which may he observed to move
in a very complicated manner, but following cer¬
tain precise laws, for they always commence the same
motions again after every period. The motions of
these
111 Part II.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
ASTRONOMY.
.
is appar
it motion
these stars, called planets, constitute one of the princi¬
pal objects of astronomy. These planets are called
1. Mercury. 5. Pallas.
2. Venus. 6. Jupiter.
3. Mars. 7. Saturn.
4. Ceres. 8. Herschel.
Mercury and Venus never separate from the sun farther
than certain limits j the rest separate to all the possible
angular distances. The movements of all these bodies
are included in a zone of the heavenly sphere called
the zodiac. This zone is divided into two equal parts
by the ecliptic. Its breadth was formerly considered as
only about i6°j but it must be much increased if the
orbits of Ceres and Pallas, the two newly discovered
planets, are to be comprehended in it, It will be pro¬
per to consider the motions and appearances of each of
these planets. This will be the subject of the follow¬
ing sections.
Sect. I. Of Mercury.
Mercury is a small star, but emits a very bright
white light: though, by reason of his always keeping
near the sun, he is seldom to be seen ; and when he
does make his appearance, his motion towards the sun
is so swift, that he can only be discerned for a short
time. He appears a little after sunset, and again a little
before sunrise.
Mercury never goes to a greater distance from the
'•sun than about so that he is never longer in
setting after the sun than an hour and 50 minutes 5
nor does he ever rise sooner than 1 hour and 50 mi¬
nutes before that luminary. Very frequently, he goes
so near the sun as to be lost altogether in his rays.
"When he begins to make his appearance in the even¬
ing after sunset, he can scarcely at first be distinguish¬
ed in the rays of the twilight. But the planet disen¬
gages itself more and more, and is seen at a greater di¬
stance from the sun every successive evening 3 and hav¬
ing got to the distance of about 22°.5, it begins to re¬
turn again. During this interval, the motion of Mer¬
cury referred to the stars is direct 3 but when it ap¬
proaches within 18° of the sun it appears for some time
stationary 5 and then its motion begins to be retro¬
grade. The planet continues to approach the sun, and
at last plunges into his rays in the evening, and disap¬
pears. Soon after, it may be perceived in the morn¬
ing, before sunrise, separating farther and farther from
the sun, his motion being retrograde, as before he dis¬
appeared. At the distance of i8°it becomes station¬
ary, and assumes a direct motion, continuing, however,
to separate till it comes to 22.5° of distance 3 then it re¬
turns again to the sun, plunges into his rays, and ap¬
pears soon after in the evening, after sunset, to repeat
the same career. The angular distance from the sun,
which the planet reaches on both sides of that lumina¬
ry, varies from 160 to nearly 28°.
The duration of a complete oscillation, or the inter¬
val of time that elapses before the planet returns again
to the point from which it set out, varies also from
100 to 130 days. The mean arc of his retrogradation
is about 13^°; its mean duration 23 days. But the
quantity differs greatly in difl’erent retrogradations.
In general, the laws of the movements of Mercury are
very complicated 3 he does not move exactly' in the
51
plane of the ecliptic 3 sometimes he deviates from it Apparent
more than 50. Motions
Some considerable time must have elapsed before ^ie
astronomers suspected that the stars which were seen ^
approaching the sun in the evening and in the morning y—,
were one and the same. The circumstance, however,
ol the one never being seen at the same time with the
other would gradually lead them to the right conclu¬
sion. ,
I "ZO
The apparent diameter of Mercury varies as well as Diametsr,
that of the sun and moon, and this variation is obvious¬
ly connected with his position relatively to the sun, and
with the direction of his movement. The diameter is
at its minimum when the planet plunges into the solar
rays in the morning, or when it disengages itself from
them: it is at its maximum when the planet plunges
into the solar rays in the evening, or when it disenga¬
ges itself from them in the evening 3 that is to say,
when the planet passes the sun in its retrograde mo¬
tion, its diameter is the greatest possible 3 when it pas¬
ses the sun in its direct motion, it is the smallest pos¬
sible and the mean length of the appai’ent diameter
of Mercury is 11".
Sometimes, when the planet disappears during its Nature,
retrograde motion, that is to say, when it plunges into
the sun’s rays in the evening, it may be seen crossing
the sun under the form of a black spot, which describes
a chord along the disk of the sun. This black spot is
recognised to be the planet by its position, its apparent
diameter, and its retrograde motion. These transits of
Mercury, as they are termed, are real annular eclipses
of the sun : they demonstrate that the planet is an
opaque body, and that it borrows its light from the
sun. When examined by means of telescopes magni¬
fying about 200 or 300 times, he appears equally lu¬
minous throughout his whole surface, without the least
dark spot. But he exhibits the same difference of phases
with the moon, being sometimes horned, sometimes gib¬
bous, and sometimes shining almost with a round face,
though not entirely full, because his enlightened side is
never turned directly towards us 3 but at all times per¬
fectly well defined without any ragged edge, and perfect¬
ly bright. Like the moon, the crescent is always turn¬
ed towards the sun. Ihese different phases throw con¬
siderable light on the orbit of Mercury.
Sect. II. Of Venus.
Venus, the most beautiful star in the heavens, known
by the names of the morning and evening stur^ likewise
keeps near the sun, though she recedes from him al¬
most double the distance of Mercury. She is never
seen in the eastern quarter of the heavens when the sun
is in the western 3 but always seems to attend him in
the evening, or to give notice of his approach in the
morning.
The planet Venus presents the same phenomena with
Mercury ; but her different phases are much more sen¬
sible, her oscillations wider, and of longer duration.
Her greatest distance from the sun varies from 43° to
nearly 48°, and the mean duration of a complete oscil¬
lation is 584 days.
Venus has been sometimes seen moving across the He/appai-
sun’s disk in the form of a round black spot, with anentmotions.
apparent diameter of about yf. A few days after
this has been observed, Venus is seen in the morning,
G % west
52
A S T K
Apparent
Motions
of the
west of the sun, in the form of a fine crescent, with
the convexity turned toward the sun. She moves gra-
Heavenl westward with a retarded motion, and the cres-
Bodies/ ce,1t becomes more full. In about ten weeks she lias
" " v~" ■' niovefi 46° west of the sun, and is now a semicircle,
and her diameter is 26". She is now stationary. She
then moves eastward with a motion gradually accele¬
rated, and overtakes the sun about 9-J months after
having been seen on his disk. Some time after, she
is seen in the evening, east of the sun, round, but very
small. She moves eastward, and increases in diame¬
ter, but loses of her roundness, till she gets about 46°
east of the sun, when she is again a semicircle. She
now moves westwards, increasing in diameter, but be¬
coming a crescent like the waning moon ; and, at last,
after a period of nearly 584 days, comes again into
conjunction with the sun with an apparent diameter
of 59".
I he mean arc of her retrogradation is about 16°,
and its mean duration is 42 days. She does not move
exactly in the plane of the ecliptic, but deviates from
it several degrees. Like Mercury, she sometimes cros¬
ses the sun’s disk. The duration of these transits, as ob¬
served from different parts of the earth’s surface, are
very different : this is owing to the parallax of Venus,
in consequence of which different observers refer to dif¬
ferent parts of the sun’s disk, and see her describe dif¬
ferent chords on that disk. In the transit which hap-
pened in 1769, the difference of its duration, as ob¬
served at Otaheite and at Wardhuys in Lapland, a-
mounted to 23 m. 10 sec. This difference gives us the
parallax of Venus, and of course her distance from the
earth during a conjunction. The knowledge of this
parallax enables us, by a method to be afterwards de¬
scribed, to ascertain that of the sun, and consequently
to discover its distance from the earth.
The great variations of the apparent diameter of
Venus demonstrates that her distance from the earth is
exceedingly variable. It is largest when the planet
passes over the surface of the sun. Her mean apparent
diameter is 58".
From the movement of certain spots upon the sur¬
face of Venus, it has been concluded that she revolves
round her axis once in 24 hours ; but this requires to
be corrected by future observations. It is extremely
difficult to perceive or examine these spots in our cli¬
mate. The subject merits the attention of astrono¬
mers farther to the south, in more favourable circum¬
stances. The following detail will show the uncer¬
tainty which has prevailed among astronomers respect-
140 these spots.
Spots when Dr Long informs us, that the earliest account he
first disco- had met with of any spots seen by means of the tele-
scope on the disk of Venus was in a collection of let-
Venus! °f ters Printed at Pari3 in in one of which Mr
Auzout relates his having received advice from Poland
that Mr Burratini had, by means of large telescopes,
seen spots upon the planet Venus similar to those upon
the moon. In 1667, Cassini, in a letter to Mr Petit,
mentions his having for a long time carefully observed
Venus through an excellent telescope made by Campa-
ni, in order to know whether that planet revolved on
its axis or not, as he had before found Jupiter and
Mars to do. But though he then observed some spots
upon her, he says, that even when the air was quiet
a.
1.19
Revolution
round her
axis.
vered on
the dis
Venus.
141
Cassini’
observa
lions.
O N O M Y. Part I
and clear, they appeared faint, irregular, and not well Apparet
defined ; so that it was difficult to have such a distinct Motion
view of any of them as to be certain that it was the 01 th
same spot which was seen again in any subsequent ob- Heaverr
servation j and this-difficulty was increased, in the first. ° 1 ^
place, when Venus was in her inferior semicircle ; be¬
cause at that time she must be viewed through the
thick vapours near the horizon ; though otherwise it
was most proper, on account of her being then nearest
to us. In the second place, if we would observe her
at some height above those vapours, it could only be
for a short time $ and thirdly, when she is low in her
inferior circle, and at that time nearest the earth, the
enlightened part of her is too small to discover apy
motion in it. He was therefore of opinion, that he
should succeed better in his observations when the pla¬
net was about its mean distance from us, showing about
one half of her enlightened hemisphere 5 at which time
also he could observe her for a much longer time above
the gross atmospherical vapours. His first appearance
of success was October 14. 1666, at three quarters past
five in the evening j when he saw a bright spot (fig.
37.), but could not then view that spot long enough
to draw any inference concerning the planet’s motion.
He had no farther success till the 20th of April the
following year ; when, about a quarter of an hour be¬
fore sunrise, he began again to perceive on the disk of
Venus, now about half enlightened, a bright part near
the section, distant from the southern horn a little more
than a fourth part of the diameter of the disk, and near
the eastern edge. He took notice also of a darkish
oblong spot nearer to the northern than the southern
horn : at sunrise the bright part was advanced farther
from the southern horn than when he first observed it; I4?
but though he was pleased to find that he had now a Sp0ts ,c‘‘
convincing proof of the planet’s motion, he was sur-tomove
prised that the spots moved from south to north in thefr°m s°ut
lower part ol the disk, and from north to south in thetonort^’
upper part 5 a kind of motion of which we have no ex¬
ample except in the librations of the moon. This, how¬
ever, was occasioned by the situation of the planet’s axis.
Cassini expected to have found the rotation of Venus
similar to that of Jupiter and Mars, both of which have
their axis perpendicular to their respective orbits, and
turn round according to the order of the signs; so that
in each of them the motion of the inferior half of their
respective globe, or that part next the sun, is from east
to west * in the superior half from west to east 3 but in
Venus, whose axis is inclined 75 degrees towards her
orbit, the coincidence is so near, that one half of her
disk appears to move from south to north, the other from
north to south.
On the 21st of April, at sunrise, the bright part parlieuJai
was a good way off the section, and about a fourth account«
part of the diameter distant from the southern horn. lhe appea
When the sun was eight degrees six minutes high, jtaRcesoft!
seemed to be got beyond the centre, and was cutp^.31^
through by the section. At the time the sun was seven time”,
degrees high, the section cut it in the middle, which
showed its motion to have some inclination towards the
centre.
May 9. a little before sunrise, the bright spot was
seen near the centre, a little to the northward, with
two obscure ones situated between the section and the
circumference, at a distance from each other, equal ta
that
rt
Part II.
A S T R
144
'assini’s
145
Apparent that of each of them from the nearest angular point or
Motions horn of the planet. The weather being at that time
,a . oftlie clear, he observed for an hour and half a quarter the
odie' y raot‘oa tlie bright spot, which seemed to he exactly
from south to north, without any sensible declination to
east or west. A variation was at the same time percei¬
ved in the darkish spot, too great to be ascribed to any
optical cause. The bright spot was also seen on the
10 and 13th days of May before sunrise between the
northern horn and the centre, and the same irregular
change of darkish spots was taken notice of; but as the
planet removed to a greater distance from the earth, it
became more difficult to observe these appearances. The
above phenomena are represented as they occurred, in
fig. 19. to 25.
But though, from the appearances just now related,
•oncernin^ ^ ^assini was of opinion that Venus revolved on her
he revolu- axis, he was by no means so positive in this matter as
ion of Ve-with regard to Mars and Jupiter. “ The spots on
ms on her these (says he) I could attentively observe for a whole
ais' night, when the planets were in opposition to the sun :
I could see them return to the same situation, and con-
sider their motion during some hours, and judge whe¬
ther they were the same spots or not, and what time
... they took in turning round: but it was not the same
)lffic“Hies with the spots of Venus ; for they can be observed on-
hese ob? ^ ^or 80 s*lort a t‘me’ tllHt ^ much more difficult to
ervations. know with certainty when they return into the same
situation. I can, however, supposing that the bright
spot which I observed on Venus, and particularly this
year, was the same, say that she finishes her motion,
whether of rotation or libration, in less than a day ; so
that, in 23 days nearly, the spot comes into the same
situation on nearly the same hour of the day, though
not without some irregularity. Now (supposing the
bright spot observed to be always the same) whether this
motion is an entire turning round, or only a libration, is
what I dare not positively affirm.”
In 1669, M. Cassini again observed Venus through
a telescope, but could not then perceive any spots up¬
on her surface ; the reason of which Du Hamel con¬
jectures to have been the fluctuation of the vapours
near the horizon, which prevented them from being
146 visible. However, we hear nothing more of any spots
lanchini’* being seen on her disk till the year 1726; when, on
jpserva- tije 0f February, Bianchini, with some of Cam-
pani’s telescopes of 90 and 100 Roman palms, began
to observe the planet at the altitude of 40° above the
horizon, and continued his observation till, by the
motion of several spots, he determined the position of
her axis to be inclined as above mentioned, that the
north pole pointed at a circle of latitude drawn through
the 20th degree of Aquarius, elevated 150 or 20° abo ve
the orbit of Venus. He delineated also the figures of
several spots which he supposed to be seas, and com¬
plimented the king of Portugal and some other great
men by calling-them by their names. Though none
of Bianchini’s observations were continued long enough
to know whether the spots, at the end of the period
assigned for the rotation of the planet, would have
been in a different situation from what they were at
the beginning of it; yet, from observations of two
and of four days, he concluded the motion of the spots
to be at the rate of 130 per day; at which advance
the planet must turn round either once in 24 days or
142
/ tie
iieeM
ove 1
soul
irtb.
oils.
O N O M Y. 53
in 23 hours; but without farther observation it could Apparent
not be determined which of the two was the period of Motions
revolution : for if an observer should at a particular ot the
hour, suppose seven in the evening, mark exactly the
place of a spot, and at the same hour next evening . ‘ ,
find the spot advanced 150, he Would not be able to 147
determine whether the spot bad advanced only 150, or Doubts
had gone once quite round with the addition of j concerning
more in part of another rotation. Mr Bianchini, how-^
ever, supposes Venus to revolve in 24 days eight hours; in revol-
the principal proof adduced for which is an observation ving- round
of three spots, ABC, being situated as in fig. 26. when ^C1 ax*s*
they were viewed by himself, and several persons of di¬
stinction, for about an hour, during which they could not
perceive any change of place. The planet being then
hid behind the Barbarini palace, they could not have
another view of her till three hours after, when the
spots still appeared unmoved. “ Now (says Mr Bian¬
chini) if her rotation were so swift as to go round in
23 hours, in this second view, three hours after the
former, the spots must have advanced near 50 degrees ;
so that the spot C would have been gone off at li, the
spot B would have succeeded into the place of C, the
spot A into the place of B, and there would have
been no more but two spots, A and B, to have been
seen.” . 0
„ . . 1 . t 148
Cassini, the son, in a memoir for 1732, denies the Dispute bc-
conclusion of Bianchini to be certain. He says, that tween Cas-
during the three hours interval, the spot C might bes*”iail4 .
gone off the disk, and the spot B got into the place BIanclun1’
thereof, where, being near the edge, it would appear
less than in the middle. That A, succeeding into the
place of B, would appear larger than it had done near
the edge, and that another spot might come into the
place of A ; and there were other spots besides these
three on the globe of the planet, as appears by the fi¬
gures of Bianchini himself, particularly one which
would naturally come in the place of A. That if the
rotation of Venus be supposed to be in 23 hours, it
will agree with Bianchini’s observations, as well as with
those of his father; but that, on the other supposition,
the latter must be entirely rejected as erroneous : and
he concludes witli telling us, that Venus had frequent¬
ly been observed in the most favourable times by Mr
Maraldi and himself with excellent telescopes of 80 and
100 feet focus, without their being able to see any di¬
stinct spot upon her disk. “ Perhaps (says Dr Long)
those seen by Bianchini had disappeared, or the air in
I ranee was not clear enough ; which last might be the
reason why his father could never see those spots in
France which he had observed in Italy, even when he
made use of the longest telescopes.” Neither of these
astronomers take notice of any indentings in the curve
which divides the illuminated part from the dark in the
disk of Venus, though in some views of that planet by
Fontana and Ricciolus, the curve is indented; and it
has from thence been concluded, that the surface of the
planet is mountainous like that of the moon. This
had also been supposed by Burratini, already mention¬
ed ; and a late writer has observed, that, “ when the
air is in a good state for observation, mountains like
those of the moon may be observed with a very power¬
ful telescope.”
Cassini, besides the discovery of the spots on the disk CassiaWli -
of Venus, by which he was enabled to ascertain her re-covers her.
volution yalelliU. .
r54
Apparent volution on an axis, had also a view of her satellite or
Motions moon, of which he gives the following account.—
He a Yen 1 ** ^ 1 August 28th, at 15 minutes after four
Bodies/ t*ie morning, looking at Venus with a telescope of
1—34 feet, I saw, at the distance of one-third of her dia¬
meter eastward, a luminous appearance, of a shape not
well defined, that seemed to have the same phase with
Venus, which was then gibbous on the western side.
The diameter of this phenomenon was nearly equal to
a fourth part of the diameter of Venus. I observed it
attentively for a quarter of an hour, and having left off
looking at it for four or five minutes, I saw it no more j
but daylight was then advanced. I had seen a like
phenomenon which resembled the phase of Venus,
Jan. 25th, A. D. 1672, from 52 minutes after six in
the morning to two minutes after seven, when the
brightness of the twilight made it disappear. Venus
was then horned \ and this phenomenon, the diameter
whereof was nearly a fourth part of the diameter of
Aenus, was of the same shape. It was distant from
the southern horn of Venus, a diameter of the planet,
on the western side. In these two observations, I was
in doubt whether it was not a satellite of Venus of such
a consistence as not to be very well fitted to reflect the
light of the sun ; and which, in magnitude, bore near¬
ly the same proportion to Venus as the moon does to
the earth, being at the same distance from the sun and
the earth as Venus was, the phases whereof it resem¬
bled. Notwithstanding all the pains I took in looking
for it after these two observations, and at divers other
times, in order to complete so considerable a discovery,
I was never able to see it. I therefore suspended my
judgment of this phenomenon. If it should return of¬
ten, there will he these two epochas, which, compared
with other observations, may be of use to find out the
periodical time of its return, if it can be reduced to
j;g any
Discovered A similar observation was made by Mr Short on the
also by Mr 23d of October 1740, about sunrise. He used at this
Short. tjme a reflecting telescope of about 16.5 inches, which
magnified between 50 and 60 times, with which he
perceived a small star at about 10' distance from Ve¬
nus, as measured by the micrometer j and, putting on
a magnifying power of 240 times, he found the star
put on the same appearance with the planet herself.
Its diameter w as somewhat less than a third of that of
the primary, but its light was less vivid, though ex¬
ceedingly sharp and well defined. The same appear¬
ance continued with a magnifying power of 140 times.
A line, passing through the centre of Venus and it,
made an angle of 18 or 20 degrees with the equator :
he saw it several times that morning for about the space
of an hour, after which he lost sight of it, and could
never find it again.
From this time the satellite of Venus, though very
frequently looked for by astronomers, could never be
perceived, which made it generally believed that Cassi¬
ni and Mr Short had been mistaken j but as the tran¬
sits of the planet over the sun in 1761 and 1769 seem¬
ed to promise a greater certainty of finding it, the sa¬
tellite was very carefully looked for by almost every
one who had an opportunity of seeing the transit, but
generally without success. Mr Baudouin at Paris had
provided a telescope of 25 feet, in order to observe the
passage of the planet over the sun, and to look for its
2
Part I *
satellite ; but he did not succeed either at that time or Apparer
in the months of April and May following. Mr Mon- ^lotion;
taigne, however, one of the members of the Society of }
Limoges, had belter success. On the 3d of May Bodies.
1761, he perceived, about half an hour after nine at'—v— u
night, at the distance of 20' from Venus, a small cres- I5I
cent, with the horns pointing the same way as those ®jen b7P r
of the planet j the diameter of the former being about ce,
one-fourth of that of the latter ; and a line drawn from sit in
Venus to the satellite making an angle with the verti- ^
cal of about 20° towards the south. But though he
repeated this observation several times, some doubt re¬
mained whether it was not a small star. Next day he
saw the same star at the same hour, distant from Venus
about half a minute or a minute more than before,
and making with the vertical an angle of io° below
on the north side j so that the satellite seemed to have
described an arc of about 30°, whereof Venus was the
centre, and the radius 20'. The two following nights
were hazy, so that Venus could only be seen $ but on
the 7th of May, at the same hour as before, he saw
the satellite again above Venus, and on the north side,
at the distance of 25' or 26' upon a line which made an
angle of about 450 with the vertical towards the right
hand. The light of the satellite was always very weak,
but it had the same phases with its primary, whether
viewed together with it in the field of his telescope or
by itself. The telescope was nine feet long, and mag¬
nified an object between 40 and 50 times, but had no
micrometer ; so that the distances above mentioned are
only from estimation.
Fig. 27. represents the three observations of Mr
Montaigne. \ is the planet Venus ; ZN the vertical.
EC, a parallel to the ecliptic, making them an angle
with the vertical of 45* ; the numbers, 3, 4, 7, mark
the situations of the satellite on the respective days.
Irom the figure it appears that the points 3 and 7
■would have been diametrically opposite, had the satel¬
lite gone 150 more round the point V at the last obser¬
vation j so that in four days it went through 1550.
Then, as 1550 is to four days or 96 hours, so is 360
to a fourth number, which gives 9 days 7 hours for
the whole length of the synodical revolution. Hence
Mr Baudouin concluded that the distance of this sa¬
tellite was about 60 of the semidiameters of Venus
from its surface 5 that its orbit cut the ecliptic nearly
at right angles $ had its ascending node in 22° of Vir¬
go and was in its greatest northern digression on the
7th at nine at night; and he supposed that at the tran¬
sit of the primary the satellite would be seen accompa¬
nying it. By a subsequent observation, however, on
the nth of May, he corrected his calculation of the
periodical time of the satellite, which he now enlarged
to 12 days $ in consequence of which he found that it
would not pass over the disk of the sun along with its
primary, but go at the distance of above 20' from his
southern limb $ though if the time of its revolution
should be 15 hours longer than 12 days, it might then IS2
pass over the sun after Venus was gone off. He ima-Why this
gined the reason why this satellite was so difficult tosate]flte's
be observed might be, that one part of its globe was80
crusted over with spots, or otherwise unfit to reflect10 e 8e£ni
the light of the sun. By comparing the periodical
time of this satellite with that of our moon, he com¬
puted the quantity of matter in Venus to be nearly
equal
ASTRONOMY.
tlfPart II. ASTRO
Apparent equal to that in our earth 5 in which case it must have
Motions considerable influence in changing the obliquity of the
IleaTenl ec^P^c> the latitudes and longitudes of stars, &c.
Bodies. It is novv known that this supposed satellite of Cassi¬
ni was merely an optical deception.
*53 In the Philosophical Transactions for 1761, Mr Hirst
bserva- gjves an account of his having observed an atmosphere
etra rerningdieroun^ the planet Venus. The observations were made
i ijfj itmosphere at Fort St George j and looking attentively at that
tf Venus, part of the sun’s disk where he expected the planet
would enter, he plainly perceived a faint shade or pe¬
numbra j on which he called out to his two assistants,
“ ’Tis a coming!” and two or three seconds after, the
first external contact took place, in the moment where¬
of all the three agreed j but he could not see the pe¬
numbra after the egress j and of the other two gentle¬
men, one had gone home, and the other had lost the
planet out of the field of his telescope. Mr Dunn at Chel¬
sea saw a penumbra, or small diminution of light, that
grew darker and darker for about five seconds before
the internal contact preceding the egress j from whence
he determines that Venus is surrounded with an at¬
mosphere of about 50 geographical miles high. His
observations, he tells us, were made mith an excellent
six-feet Newtonian reflector, with a magnifying power
of IIO, and of 220 times ; he had a clear dark glass
next his eye, and the sun’s limb appeared well defined 5
but a very narrow waterish penumbra appeared round
Venus. The darkest part of the planet’s phasis was at
the distance of about a sixth part of her diameter from
its edge 5 from which an imperfect light increased to the
centre, and illuminated round about.
In the northern parts of Europe this penumbra
could not be seen. Mr Wargentin, who communica¬
ted several observations of the first external contact,
says, that he could not mark the time exactly, be¬
cause of the undulation of the limb of the sun j but
thought it very remarkable that, at the egress, the
N O M Y.
5-3-
ring of a deep yellow near the place that appeared in Apparent
the form of a crescent, which was much brighter at Motions
the going off than coming upon the sun ; and that, du- oft5le
ring the whole time the disk of Venus was upon the y
sun, he saw nothing of it. The time of total ingress
was instantaneous like a flash of lightning 5 but at the
egress the limb of the sun began to be obscured three
seconds before the interior contact. Some of the
French astronomers attributed this luminous ring round
Venus to the inflection of the sun’s rays, as they also
do the light seen round the moon in solar eclipses $ but
Mr Chappe supposes it to have been owing to the sun
enlightening more than one half of the planetary globe,
though he owns this cause not to be altogether suffi¬
cient. Mr Fouchy, who observed the transit at La
Muette in France, perceived, during the whole time,
a kind of ring round Venus, brighter than the rest of
the sun, which became fainter the farther it went from
the planet, but appeared more vivid in proportion as
the sun was clearer. Mr Ferner, who observed at the
same place, confirms the testimony of Mr Fouchy.
“ During the whole time (says he) of my observing
with the telescope, and the blue and green glasses, I
perceived a light round about Venus, which followed
her like a luminous atmosphere, more or less lively ac¬
cording as the air was more or less clear. Its extent
altered in the same manner 5 nor was it well termi¬
nated, throwing out, as it were, some feeble rays on
all sides.” i54
“ I am not clear (says Dr Long) as to the mean-Dr Long’s
ing of the luminous circle here mentioned; whether, °P‘n‘on 011
when the whole planet was upon the sun, they saw a th(j?e obser"
ring of light round it, distinct from the light of theVa UmS“
sun; or whether they mean only the light which sur¬
rounded that part of Venus that was not upon the
sun.” Mr Chappe takes this and other accounts of
the observations made in France in this latter sense ;
and though he sometimes called the luminous part of
limb of Venus that was gone off the sun showed itself the crescent that surrounded the part of the planet not
with a faint light during almost the whole time of imnn tlip* cnn » r*!»-*r«- K/-* LI~ 1 £* *.i._i. i i* i
emersion. Mr Bergman, who was then at the obser¬
vatory at Upsal, begins his account at the time when
three-fourths of the disk of the planet was entered up¬
on that of the sun ; and he says, that the part which
was not come upon the sun was visible though dark,
and surrounded by a crescent of faint light, as in fig. 28.:
but this appearance was much more remarkable at the
egress ; for as soon as any part of the planet was got
off. the sun, that part was visible with a like crescent,
but brighter, fig. 29. As more of the planetary disk
went off that of the sun, however, that part of the
crescent which was farthest from the sun grew fainter,
and vanished, until at last only the horns could be
seen, as in fig. 30. The total ingress was not instan¬
taneous ; but, as two drops of water, when about to
part, form a ligament between them ; so there was a
dark swelling stretched out between Venus and the
sun, as in fig. 31.; and when this ligament broke, the
planet appeared to have got about an eighth part of her
diameter from the nearest limb of the sun, fig. 32.:
he saw the like appearance at going off, but not so di¬
stinct. fig. 33. Mr Chappe likewise took notice, that
the part of Venus which was not upon the sun was vi¬
sible during part of the time of ingress and egress;
that it was farther surrounded by a small luminous
upon the sun a ring, he explains himself that he did
so, because at the coming upon the sun he perceived
it at one side of the planet, and on the opposite side
on its going oft’: for which reason he supposed that it
surrounded it on all sides. S(* fig. 34, 33.
Sect. III. Of Mars.
The two planets which we have just described, ap¬
pear to accompany Tthe sun like satellites, and their
mean motion round the earth is the same with that lu¬
minary. The remaining planets go to all the possible
angular distances from the sun. But their motions
have obviously a connection with the sun’s position.
Mars is of a red fiery colour, and always gives a
much duller light than Venus, though sometimes he
equals her in size. He is not subject to the same li¬
mitation in his motions as Mercury or Venus ; but ap¬
pears sometimes very near the sun, and sometimes at
a great distance from him ; sometimes rising when the
sun sets, or setting when he rises. Of this planet it is
remarkable, that when he approaches any of the fixed
stars, which all the planets frequently do, these stars
change their colour, grow dim, and often become totally
invisible, though at some little distance from the body of
the planet: but Dr Herschel thinks this has been ex¬
aggerated by former astronomers..
Mars,
56
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
*55
Spots when
first seen on
Mars.
Mars appears to move from west to east round the
earth. The mean duration of his sidereal revolution
is 686.979579 days. His motion is very unequal.
Mhen we begin to perceive this planet in the morning
when he begins to separate from the sun, his motion is
direct and the most rapid possible. This rapidity dimi¬
nishes gradually, and the motion ceases altogether when
the planet is about 1370 distant from the sun ; then his
motion becomes retrograde, and increases in rapidity
till he comes into opposition with the sun. ft then gra¬
dually diminishes again, and becomes nothing when
Mars approaches within 1370 of the sun. Then the
motion becomes direct after having been retrograde for
73 days, during which interval the planet described an
arch of about 160. Continuing to approach the sun,
the planet at last is lost in the evening in the rays of
that luminary. All these different phenomena are re¬
newed after every opposition of Mars j but there are
considerable differences both in the extent and duration
of his retrogradations.
Mars does not move exactly in the plane of the eclip¬
tic, but deviates from it several degrees. His apparent
diameter varies exceedingly. His mean apparent dia¬
meter is 27", and it increases so much, that when the
planet is in opposition, the apparent diameter is Si".
Then the parallax of Mars becomes sensible, and about
double that of the sun.
I he disk of Mars changes its form relatively to its
position with regard to the sun, and becomes oval. Its
phases show that it derives its light from that luminary.
1 he spots observed on its surface have informed astrono¬
mers that it moves round its axis from west to east in
1.02733 days, and its axis is inclined to the ecliptic at
an angle of about 59.7*.
They were first observed in 1666 by Cassini at Bo¬
logna with a telescope of Campani about 16J feet
long-, and continuing to observe them for a month, he
found they came into the same situation in 24 hours
and 40 minutes. The planet was observed by some
astronomers at Rome with longer telescopes made by
Eustachio Divini *, but they assigned to it a rotation
in 13 hours only. This, however, was afterwards
shown by Mr Cassini to have been a mistake, and to
have arisen from their not distinguishing the opposite
sides of the planet, which it seems have spots pretty
much alike. He made further observations on the
spots of this planet in 1670; from whence he drew' an
additional confirmation of the time the planet took to
revolve. The spots were again observed in subsequent
oppositions; particularly for several days in 1704 by
Maraldi, who took notice that they were not always
well defined, and that they not only changed their
shape frequently in the space between two oppositions,
but even in the space of a month. Some of them,
however, continued of the same form long enough to
ascertain the time of the planet’s revolution. Among
these there appeared this year an oblong spot, resem¬
bling one of the belts of Jupiter when broken. It did
not reach quite round the body of the planet; but had,
not far from the middle of it, a small protuberance to¬
wards the north, so well defined that he was thereby
enabled to settle the period of its revolution at 24
hours 39 minutes ; only one minute less than what
Cassini had determined it to be. See fig. 45.
The near approach of Mars to the earth in 1719,
Part i
gave a much better opportunity of viewing him than Appare
had been obtained before ; as he was then within 24° Motioi
of his perihelion, and at the same time in opposition oftbe
to the sun. His apparent magnitude and brightness
were thus so much increased, that he was by the vul¬
gar taken for a new star. His appearance at that time,
as seen by Maraldi through a telescope of 34 feet long,
is represented in fig. 37. There was then a long belt
that reached half way round, to the end of which ano¬
ther shorter belt was joined, forming an obtuse angle
with the former, as in fig. 38. This angular point
was observed on the 19th and 20th of August, at 11
hours 15 minutes, a little east of the middle of the
disk ; and 37 days after, on the 25th and 26th of Sep¬
tember, returned to the same situation. This interval,
divided by 36, the number of revolutions contained in
it, gives 24 hours 40 minutes for the period of one re¬
volution; which was verified by another spot of a tri¬
angular shape, one angle whereof was towards the
north pole, and the base towards the south, which on
the 5th and 6th of August appeared as in fig. 39. and
after 72 revolutions returned to the same situation on
the 16th and 17th of October. The appearances of
Mars, as delineated by Mr Hook, when viewed through
a 36 feet telescope are represented in fig. 40. He ap¬
peared through this instrument as big as the full moon.
Some of the belts of this planet are said to be parallel to
his equator ; but that seen by Maraldi was very much
inclined to it. ^
Besides these dark spots former astronomers took Bright
notice that a segment of his globe about the south pole sPots al)0
exceeded the rest of his disk so much in brightness,
that it appeared beyond them as if it were the segment
of a larger globe. Maraldi informs us, that this bright
spot had been taken notice of for 60 years, and was
more permanent than the other spots on the planet.
One part of it is brighter than the rest, and the least
bright part is subject to great changes, and has some¬
times disappeared.
A similar brightness about the north pole of Mars
was also sometimes observed ; and these observations
now confirmed by Herschel, who has viewed
site
jest
_i5<J
If Hi
are
the planet with much better instruments, and much
higher magnifying powers, than any other astronomer ,
ever was in possession of. His observations were made Dr Her-
with a view to determine the figure of the planet, theschePsac'
position of his axis, &c. A very particular accountcount of
of them is given in the 74th volume of the Philosophi-^®8® *^ot
cal Transactions, but which our limits will not allow
us to insert. Fig. 41. to 64. show the particular appear¬
ances of Mars, as viewed on the days there marked.
The magnifying powers he used were sometimes as high
as 932 ; and with this the south polar spot was found
to be in diameter 41"'. Fig. 65. shows the connection
of the other figures marked 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62,
which complete the whole equatorial succession of spots
on the disk of the planet. The centre of the circle
marked 57 is placed on the circumference of the inner
circle, by making its distance from the circle marked
59 answer to the interval of time between the two ob¬
servations, properly calculated and reduced to sidereal
measure. The same is done with regard to the circles
marked 58, 59> and it will be found by placing
any one of these connected circles in such a manner as
to have its contents in a similar situation with the fi¬
gures
rtl
Pparei,
lolioi!
of tl«
Part II.
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent gures in the single representation, which bears the
Motions same number, that there is a sufficient resemblance be-
eavtn Hearenl ^ween them ; though some allowance must undoubted-
Jodiei Uodies. ^ mat^e ^or the distortions occasioned by this kind
of projection.
15S With regard to the bright spots themselves, Dr Her-
aases of Jnforms US) tliat tlie p0|es 0f t[ie p|anets are not
neceaaodal'exact^ ‘n ^le rn'^<^e °f them, though nearly so.
57
ijd
fin
sabo
^59
wards some point of the heavens, between 9s 240 3^
and os 70 15'; because the change of the situation of
the pole from left to right, which happened in the
time the planet passed from one place to the other,
is a plain indication of its having gone through the
node of its axis. Next, we may also conclude, that
the node must be considerably nearer the latter point
of the ecliptic than the former ; for whatever be the
inclination of the axis, it will be seen under equal angles
at equal distances from the node. But by a trigono¬
metrical process of solving a tew triangles, we soon dis¬
covered both the inclination of the axis, and the place
where it intersects the ecliptic at rectangles (which, for
want of a better term, I have perhaps improperly called
its node). Accordingly I find by calculation, that
the node is in 170 47' of Pisces, the north pole of Mars
being directed towards that part of the heavens ; and
that the inclination of the axis to the ecliptic is 590 40'.
By further calculations we find that the pole of Mars
on the ryth of April I777> was ^en actually 8l° 27'
inclined to the ecliptic, and pointed towards the left as
seen from the sun.
“ The inclination and situation of the node of the
axis of Mars, with respect to the ecliptic, being found,
may be thus reduced to the orbit of the planet him¬
self. Let EC (fig. 66.) be a part of the ecliptic,
OM part of the orbit of Mars, PEO a line drawn
from P, the celestial pole of Mars, through E, that
point which has been determined to be the place of
Vol. III. Part I. f
the node of the axis of Mars in the ecliptic, and con- Apparent
tinued to O, where it intersects his orbit. Now, if, Motions
according to M. de la Lande, we put the node of of’tlie
the orbit of Mars for 1783 in Is 170 58', we have from IIeHve,lly
isappear- $< From the appearance and disappearance (says he) of
nee of the bright north polar spot in the year 1781, we col-
liese spot*, lect that the circle of its motion was at some consider¬
able distance from the pole. By calculation, its lati¬
tude must have been about 76° or 770 north j for I find
that, to the inhabitants of Mars, the declination of the
sun, June 25th, 12I1. 15m. of our time was about 90
56' south *, and the spot must have been so far removed
from the north pole as to fall a few degrees within the
enlightened part of the disk to become visible to us.
The south pole of Mars could not be many degrees from
the centre of the large bright southern spot of the
year 1781 5 though this spot was of such a magnitude
as to cover all the polar regions farther than the 70th
or 65th degree ; and in that part which was on the me¬
ridian, July 3d, at 10 h. 54 minutes, perhaps a little
farther.
“ From the appearances of the south polar spot in
1781, we may conclude that its centre was nearly po¬
lar. We find it continued visible all the time Mars
revolved on his axis •, and to present us generally with
a pretty equal share of the luminous appearance, a
spot which covered from 450 to 6o° of a great circle
on the globe of the planet, could not have any consi-
rtheeK- derable polar distance. From the observations and
t position calculations made concerning the poles of Mars, we
Mars.0'68 may conclu(le that his north pole must be directed to-
the place of the node of the axis, that is, i js 170 47', 1 ' ‘C!" .
to the place of the node of the orbit, an arch EN of
6o° n'. In the triangle NEO, right-angled at E,
there is also given the angle ENO, according to the
same author, i° 51', which is the inclination of the
orbit of Mars to the ecliptic. Hence we find the angle
EON 89° 5', and the side ON 6o° 12'. Again,
when Mars is in the node of its orbit N, we have by
calculation the angle PNEr^0 7'; to which adding
the angle ENOzri0 51', we have PNO=64° 58':
from which two angles, PON and PNO, with the
distance ON, we obtain the inclination of the axis of
Mars, and place of its node with respect to its own
orbit j the inclination being 6i° 18', and the place of
the node of the axis 38° 31' preceding the intersection
of the ecliptic with the orbit of Mars, or in our 190 28'
of Pisces.”
Our author next proceeds to show how the seasons Of the sea-
in this planet may be calculated, &c. Which con-sons in
jectures, though they belong properly to the next sec- Mars*
tion, yet are so much connected with what has gone
before, that we shall insert here what he says upon the
subject.
“ Being thus acquainted with what the inhabitants
of Mars will call the obliquity of their ecliptic, and the
situation of their equinoctial and solstitial points, we are
furnished with the means of calculating the seasons on
that planet, and may account, in a manner which I
think highly probable, for the remarkable appearance
about its polar regions.
“ But first, it may not be improper to give an in¬
stance how to resolve any query concerning the Mar¬
tial seasons. Thus, let it be required to compute the
declination of the sun on Mars, June 25. 1781, at
midnight of our time. If tys 8 , n, 35, &c. (fig. 67),
represent the ecliptic of Mars, and CY), 25, the
ecliptic of out planet, A ^ B the mutual intersection
of the Martial and terrestrial ecliptics ; then there is
given the heliocentric longitude of Mars, m~
9s 10 30'; then taking away six signs, and ^ ^ or
CY> a—Is iyu 38', there remains b m~\* 22° 32'
From this arch, with the given inclination i° 31' of
the orbits to each other, we have cosine of inclination
to radius, as tangent of bin to tangent of B M—
Is 22° 33'. And taking away B jo 29',
which is the complement to y? B (or 25 A, already
shown to be Is 28° 3I0> there will remain Ti Mrr:
0s 21° 4', the place of Mars in its own orbit; that
is, on the time above mentioned, the sun’s longitude
on Mars will be 6s 2i° 4'; and the obliquity of
the Martial ecliptic, 28° 42', being also given, we
find, by the usual method, the sun’s declination 90 c6'
south.
“ The analogy between Mars and the earth is per- Consider-
haps by far the greatest in the whole solar system, able reserra-
7 heir diurnal motion is nearly the same ; the obliqui- Mance be-
ty of their respective ecliptics not very different : 0f tvv*xl t^le
all the superior planets, the distance of Mars from the aB<1
sun is by far the nearest alike to that of the earth ; H,S’
nor will the length of the Martial year appear very
II different
58
ASTRONOMY.
Part II.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
i6i
White spots
about the
poles of
Mars, sup¬
posed to be
occasioned
by snow.
163
Of the
spheroidical
form of
Mars.
164
Difference
between
the equato¬
rial and po¬
lar diame¬
ter of Mars,
different from what \ye enjoy, when compared to the
surprising duration of the years of Jupiter, Saturn,
and the Georgium Sidus. It we then find that the
globe we inhabit has its polar region frozen and co¬
vered with mountains of ice and snow that only partly
melt when alternately exposed to the sun, I may well
be permitted to surmise, that the same causes may pro¬
bably have the same effect on the globe of Mars ; that
the bright polar spots are owing to the vivid reflection
of light from frozen regions j and that the reduction of
those spots is to be ascribed to their being exposed to
the sun. In the year lySt, the south polar spot was
extremely large, which we might well expect, as that
pole had but lately been involved in a whole twelve¬
month’s darkness and absence of the sun $ but in I7^3>
I found it considerably smaller than before, and it de¬
creased continually from the 20tb of May till about the
middle of September, when it seemed to be at a stand.
During this last period the south pole had already been
above eight months enjoying the benefit of summer, and
still continued to receive the sun-beams, though, towards
the latter end, in such an oblique direction as to be but
little benefited by them. On the other hand, in the
year 1781, the north polar spot, which had then been
its twelvemonth in the sunshine, and was but lately re¬
turning into darkness, appeared small, though undoubt¬
edly increasing in size. Its not being visible in the
year 1783, is no objection to these phenomena, being
owing to the position of the axis, by which it was re¬
moved out of sight.
“ That a planetary globe, such as Mars, turning on
an axis, should be of a spheroidical form, will easily find
admittance, when two familiar instances in Jupiter and
the earth, as well as the known laws of gravitation and
the centrifugal force of rotatory bodies, lead the way
to the reception of such doctrines. 80 far from creating
difficulties, or doubts, it will rather appear singular,
that the spheroidical form of this planet has not al¬
ready been noticed by former astronomers j and yet,
reflecting on the general appearance of Mars, we soon
find, that oppoi'tunities of making observations on its
real form cannot be very frequent: for when it is near
enough to view it to an advantage, we see it generally •
gibbous, and its appositions are so scarce, and of so
short a duration, that in more than two years time, we
have not above three or four weeks for such observa¬
tions. Besides, astronomers being generally accustom¬
ed to see this planet distorted, the spheroidical form
might easily be overlooked.
“ September 25. 1783. At ph. 50 m. the equatorial
diameter of Mars measured 2i'/ 53w j the polar diame¬
ter 21" \ full measure; that is, certainly not too
small. This difference of the diameters was shown, on
the 28th of the same month, to Mr Wilson of Glasgow,
who saw it perfectly well, so as to he convinced that
it was not owing to any defect or distortion occasioned
by the lens; and because I wished him to be satisfied
of the reality of the appearance, I reminded him of
several precautions j such as causing the planet to pass
directly through the centre of the field of view, and
judging of its figure when it was most distinct and best
defined, &c. Next day the difference between the
two diameters was shown to Dr Blagden and Mr Au-
bert. The former not only saw it immediately, but
thought the flattening almost as much as that of Jupi¬
ter. Mr Aubert also saw it very plainly, so as to en- Apparent
tertain no manner of doubt about the appearance. Motions
“ September 30th, loh. 52m. the equatorial diame- oi liHS
ter was 22" 9'", with a magnifying power of 278. By
a second measure it was 22// 31"', full large *, the polar  
diameter, very exact, was 21" 26". On the first of
October, at loh. 50m. the equatorial diameter measured
103 by the micrometer j and the polar 98; the value
of the divisions in seconds and thirds not being well
determined, on account of some changes lately made
in the focal length of the object metals of the tele¬
scope. On the 13th, the equatorial diameter was ex¬
actly 22" 3 s'": the polar diameter 21" 35/".” In a
great number of succeeding observations, the same ap¬
pearance occurred j but on account of the quick changes
in the appearance of this planet, Dr Herschel thought
proper to settle the proportion betwixt the equatorial
and polar diameters from those which were made on the
very day of the apposition, and which were also to be
preferred on account of their being repeated with a very
high power, and in a fine clear air, with two different
instruments of an excellent quality. From these he de¬
termined the proportions to be as 103 to 98, or 1355
to 1272. 165
It lias been commonly related by astronomers, that Of the at-
the atmosphere of this planet is possessed of such strong mosPllere
refractive powers, as to render the small fixed stars
near which it passes invisible. Dr Smith relates an ob¬
servation of Cassini, where a star in the water of xYqua-
rius at the distance of six minutes from the disk of
Mars, became so faint before its occultation, that it
could not be seen by the naked eye, nor with a three-
feet telescope. This would indicate an atmosphere of
a very extraordinary size and density : but the follow¬
ing observations of Dr Herschel seem to show that it
is of much smaller dimensions. “ 1783, Oct. 26th.
There are two small stars preceding Mars, of difterent
sizes ; with 460 they appear both dusky red, and are
pretty unequal; with 218 they appear considerably
unequal. The distance from Mars of the nearest, which
is also the largest, with 227 measured 3' 26" 20,,,.
Some time after, the same evening, the distance was
3' 8" 55"', Mars being retrograde. Both of them
were seen very distinctly. They were viewed with a
new 20 feet reflector, and appeared very bright. Oc¬
tober 27th, the small star is not quite so bright in pro¬
portion to the large one as it was last night, being a
good deal nearer to Mars, which is now on the side of
the small star-, but when the planet was drawn aside, or
out of view, it appeared as plainly as usual. The di¬
stance of the small star was 2' 5" sy"7. The largest of
the two stars (adds he), on which the above obser¬
vations were made, cannot exceed the I2tb, and the
smallest the 13th or 14th magnitude *, and I have no
reason to suppose that they were any otherwise affected
by the approach of Mars, than what the brightness of
its superior light may account for. From other pheno¬
mena it appears, however, that this planet is not without
a considerable atmosphere j for besides the permanent
spots on its surface, I have often noticed occasional
changes of partial bright belts, and also once a darkish
one in a pretty high latitude ; and these alterations we
can hardly ascribe to any other cause than the variable
disposition of clouds and vapours floating in the atmo¬
sphere of the planet.”
Sect.
Part II.
A S T Pt O
AppwrcRt
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Sect. IV. Of Jupiter.
\66
Belts of Jii-
rered.
pear ja.
them.
168
Account of
N O M Y.
disappeared, thougl
59
Jupiter is the brightest of all the planets except
Venus. lie moves from west to east in a period of
4332.602208 days, exhibiting irregularities similar to
those of Mars. Before he comes into opposition, and
when distant from the sun about 1150, his motion be¬
comes retrograde, and increases in swiftness till he comes
into opposition. The motion then becomes gradually
slower, and becomes direct when the planet advances
within 1150 of the sun. The duration of the retrograde
motion is about 1 21 days, and the arch of retrogradation
described is about io°. But there is a considerable dif¬
ference both in the amount and in the duration of this
retrograde motion.
Jupiter has the same general appearance with Mars,
piter when only that the belts on his surface are much larger and
fust disco- more permanent. Their general appearance, as described
by Dr Bong, is represented fig. 68—71.; but they are
not to be seen but by an excellent telescope. They are
said to have been first discovered by Fontana and two
other Italians ; but Cassini was the first who gave a
good account of them. Their number is very variable,
as sometimes only one, and at others no fewer than
eight, may be perceived. They are generally parallel
to one another, but not always so j and their breadth
is likewise variable, one belt having been observed to
grow' narrow, while another in its neighbourhood has
increased in breadth, as if the one had flowed into the
other: and in this case Dr Long observes, that a part
of an oblique belt lay between them, as if to form a
communication for this purpose. The time of their
continuance is very uncertain, sometimes remaining
unchanged for three months; at others, new belts
Spots some-have been formed in an hour or two. In some of
times ap- these belts large black spots have appeared, which
moved swiftly over the disk from east to west, and
returned in a short time to the same place j from
whence the rotation of this planet about its axis has
been determined. On the 9th of May 1664, Dr Hook,
with a good 12 feet telescope, observed a small spot in
the biggqst of the three obscure belts of Jupiter 5 and
observing it from time to time, found that in two hours
it had moved from east to west about half the visible
diameter of the planet. In 1665, Cassini observed a
spot near the largest belt of Jupiter which is most fre¬
quently seen. It appeared round, and moved with the
greatest velocity when in the middle, but appeared
narrower, and moved slower, the nearer it was to the
circumference. “ These circumstances (says Dr Long)
showed that the spot adhered to the body of Jupiter,
and was carried round upon it. It continued there¬
on till the year following •, long enough to determine
the periodical time of Jupiter’s rotation upon his axis
to be 9 h. 56 m.” This principal, or ancient spot
one of theseas‘s called, is the largest, and of the longest con-
spots. tinuance of any hitherto known, and has appeared
and vanished no fewer than eight times between the
years 1665 and 1708 j from the year last mentioned
it was invisible till 17x3. The longest time of its con¬
tinuing to be visible was three years ; and the longest
time of its disappearing was fyom 1708 to 1713 : it
seems to have some connection with the principal sou¬
thern belt j for the spot has never been seen when that
1 that belt has often been visible Apparent
without that spot. Besides this ancient spot, Cassini, Motions
in the year 1669, saw one of less stability that did not ot ^ie
continue of the same shape or dimensions, but broke
into several small ones, whereof the revolution was but < v~—
9 h. 51 m. ; and two other spots that revolved in 9 h.
52^-m. The figure of Jupiter is evidently an oblate
spheroid, the longest diameter of his disk being to the
shortest as 13 to 12. His rotation is from west to east,
like that of the sun, and the plane of his equator is i()C>
very nearly coincident with that of his orbit; so that No differ-
there can scarcely be any difference of seasons in that ence.°*sea*
planet. His rotation has been observed to be some-
sons in Ju¬
piter.
what quicker in his aphelion than his perihelion. The
axis of rotation is nearly perpendicular to the plane of
the ecliptic, and the planet makes one revolution in
0.41377 day, or about 9 h. 33' and 37'/. The changes
in the appearance of these spots, and the difference in
the time of their rotation, make it probable that they do
not adhere to Jupiter, but are clouds transported by the
winds with different velocities in an atmosphere subject
to violent agitations.
The apparent diameter of this planet is a maximum
during his opposition to the sun, it is then equal to
about 46" j when in conjunction it is smaller, being
only about 3 x" : his mean apparent diameter is equal
to 36". 170
Four little stars are observed around Jupiter, which Is attended
constantly accompany him. Their relative situation by f°UF
is continually changing. They oscillate on both sidesmoolls;'
of the planet, and their relative rank is determined by
the length of these oscillations. That one in which
the oscillation is shortest is called the first satellite, and
so on. These satellites are analogous to our moon.
See fig. 18. and 186. They are all supposed to move
in ellipses j though the eccentricities of all of them
are too small to be measured, excepting that of the
fourth j and even this amounts to no more than 0.007
of its mean distance from the primary. The orbits of
these planets were thought by Galileo to be in the same
plane with that of their primary : but Mr Cassini has
found that their orbits make a small angle with it ; and,
as he did not find any difference in the place of their
nodes, he concluded that they were all in the same place,
and that their ascending nodes were in the middle of
Aquarius. After observing them for more than 36 years,
he found their greatest latitude, or deviation from the
plane of Jupiter’s orbit, to be 2° 55'. The first of these Distances
satellites revolves at the distance of 5.697 of Jupiter’s a?d Pei'J°-
semidiameters, or l' 51" as measured by proper instru-t/'ne,s
mentsj its periodical time is 1 d. x8 h. 27' 34,/. The^100l^tcl ’
next satellite revolves at the distance of 9.017 semidia¬
meters, or 2' 56", in 3d. 13 h. 1^' 43,/; the third at the
distance of 14.384 semidiameters, or 4' 42,/, in 7 d. 3 h.
42' 36"; and the fourth at the distance of 25.266, or
8' 16", in 16 d. 16 h. 32' 09".
Since the time of Cassini it has been found that the
nodes of Jupiter’s satellites are not in the same place ;
and from the different points of view in which we have
an opportunity of observing them from the earth, we
see them sometimes apparently moving in straight
lines, and at other times in elliptic curves. All of
them, by reason of their immense distance, seem to keep
near their primary, and their apparent motion is a kind
of oscillation like that of a pendulum, going alternate-
H 2 ly
6d
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Uodies.
Occult a-
tions and
eclipses of
Jupiter’s
satellites.
'73
The satel¬
lites.some¬
times ap¬
pear as
dark spots.
l74
Why they
vary in
their light
and appa¬
rent mag¬
nitude.
ly from their greatest distance on one side to the
greatest distance on the other, sometimes in a straight
line, and sometimes in an elliptic curve. When a sa¬
tellite is in its superior semicircle, or that half of its
• orbit which is more distant from the earth than Jupi¬
ter is, its motion appears to us direct, according to
the order of the signs ; but in its inferior semicircle,
when it is nearer to us than Jupiter, its motion ap¬
pears retrograde ; and both these motions seem quicker
the nearer the satellites are to the centre of the prima¬
ry, slower the more distant they are, and at the greatest
distance of all they appear for a short time to be sta¬
tionary.
Jrom this account of the system of Jupiter and his
satellites, it is evident, that occultations of them must
frequently happen by their going behind their primary,
or by coming in betwixt us and it. The former takes
place when they proceed towards the middle of their up¬
per semicircle j the latter, when they pass through the
same part of their inferior semicircle. Occultations of
the former kind happen to the first and second satellite;
at every revolution, the third very rarely escapes an oc-
cultation, but the fourth more frequently by reason of
its greater distance. It is seldom that a satellite can be
discovered upon the disk of Jupiter, even by the best
telescopes, excepting at its first entrance, when by rea¬
son of its being more directly illuminated by the rays
ot the sun than the planet itself, it appears like a lucid
spot upon it. Sometimes, however, a satellite in pas¬
sing over the disk, appears like a dark spot, and is
easily to be distinguished. This is supposed to be ow¬
ing to spots on the body of these secondary planets;
and it is remarkable, that the same satellite has been
known to pass over the disk at one time as a dark spot,
and at another so luminous that it could not he distin¬
guished from Jupiter himself, except at its coming on
and going off. To account for this, we must say, that
either the spots are subject to change ; or if they be
permanent like those of our moon, that the satellites at
different times turn different parts of their globes to¬
wards us. Possibly both these causes may contribute
to produce the phenomena just mentioned. For these
reasons also both the light and apparent magnitude of
the satellites are variable ; for the fewer spots there are
upon that side which is turned towards us, the brighter
it will appear; and as the bright side only can be seen,
a satellite must appear larger the more of its bright
side it turns towards the earth, and the less so the
more it happens to be covered with spots. The fourth
satellite, though generally the smallest, sometimes ap¬
pears bigger than any of the rest: the third sometimes
seems least, though usually the largest; nay, a satellite
may be so covered with spots as to appear less than its
shadow passing over the disk of the primary, though
we are certain that the shadow must he smaller than
the body which casts it. To a spectator placed on the
surface of Jupiter, each of these satellites would put
on the phases of the moon ; but as the distance *of any
ot them from Jupiter is but small when compared with
the distance of that planet from the sun, the satellites
are therefore illuminated by the sun very nearly in the
same manner with the primary itself; hence they ap¬
pear to us always round, having constantly the greatest
part of their enlightened half turned towards the earth :
stud indeed they are so small, that were they to put on
5
Part I]
the phases of the moon, these phases could scarce be Apparem
discerned through the best telescopes. Motions
When the satellites pass through their inferior semi- the
circles, they may cast a shadow upon their primary, *
and thus cause an eclipse of the sun to his inhabitants - 0^lL*‘
if there are any; and in some situations this shadow 175
may be observed going before or following the satel- Their sha
lite. On the other hand, in passing through their ^.ows som<;
superior semicircles, the satellites may be eclipsed in ble on'thj!
the same manner as our moon by passing through the disk of J11
shadow of Jupiter: and this is actually the case withpiter.
the first, second, and third of these bodies ; but the , 176
fourth, by reason of the largeness of its orbit, passes
sometimes above or below the shadow, as is the case moons1 *
with our moon. The beginnings and endings of these eclipsed in
eclipses are easily seen by a telescope when the earth ev<rl7 re
is in a proper situation with regard to Jupiter and thelulion*
sun ; hut when this or any other planet is in conjunc-At what
tion with the sun, the superior brightness of that lumi-vime the
nary renders both it and the satellites invisible. From ecbpses,oe
the time of its first appearing after a conjunction until cu^a^0,ls>
near the apposition, only the immersions of the satel-
lites into his shadow, or the beginnings of the eclipses, tellites are
are visible ; at the apposition, only the occultations of visible,
the satellites, by going behind or coming before their
primary, are observable ; and from the apposition to
the conjunction, only the emersions, or end of the
eclipses, are to be seen. This is exactly true in the
first satellite, of which we can never see an immersion
with its immediately subsequent emersion: and it is hut
rarely that they can be both seen in the second; as in
order to their being so, that satellite must be near one
of its limits, at the same time that the planet is near
his perihelion and quadrature with the sun. With re¬
gard to the third, when Jupiter is more than 46 de¬
grees from conjunction with, or apposition to, the sun,
both its immersions and immediately subsequent emer¬
sions are visible ; as they likewise are in the fourth,
when the distance of Jupiter from conjunction or ap¬
position is 24 degrees.
When Jupiter is in quadrature with the sun, the eaith
is farthest out of the line that passes through the centres
ol the sun and Jupiter, and therefore the shadow of the
planet is then most exposed to our view: but even then
the body of the planet will hide from us one side of that
part of the shadow which is nearest to it, through which
the first satellite passes; which is the reason that though
we see the entrance of that satellite into the shadow, or
its coming out from thence, as the earth is situated on
the east or west side thereof, we cannot see them both ;
whereas the other satellites going through the shadow
at a greater distance from Jupiter, their ingress anil-
egress are both visible.
Sect. V. 0/' Saturn.
Saturn is likewise a very conspicuous planet, though
not so brilliant as Jupiter. The period of his sidereal
revolution round the earth, is 10759.077213 days.
He moves from west to east nearly in the plane of the
ecliptic, and exhibits irregularities similar to those of
Jupiter and Mars. He becomes retrograde both before
and after his opposition, when at the distance of about
n r* .1 -w-T •
109" from the sun. His retrograde motion continues
about 139 days, and during its continuance he describes.
an
in Part II.
Jare"i Apparent
a,l0“! Motions
fll>e of the
wtnlj Heavenly
xlies. bodies.
'75 I78
rsia. Telescopic one on each sj(ie of a large one ; and he published his
' .AngaraTIPP. • tt .• . .
SOffit,
s Vlli.
»n tin
ofJ«.
[;6
e of
tr’i
is
sed in
’ rcTo.
i.
I1
hat
the
ses, ot.
tiom,
)fJu.
s sa-
:sare
e.
179
li* ring
rst disco-
ered by
luygens.
ASTRO
an arc of about 6®. Mis diameter is a maximum at iiis
opposition, and his mean apparent diameter is 18".
Saturn, when viewed through a good telescope,
makes a more remarkable appearance than any of the
other planets. Galileo first discovered his uncommon
shape, which he thought to be like two small globe
N O M Y. 61
the plane of it. When it appears double, the ring Apparent
'Eum.06 (liscovery in a Latin sentence : the meaning of which
was, that he had seen him appear with three bodies 5
though, in order to keep the discovery a secret, the
letters were transposed. Having viewed him for two
years, he was surprised to see him become quite round
without these appendages, and then after some time to
assume them as before. These adjoining globes were
what are now called the ansce of his ring, the true
shape of which was first discovered by Huygens about
40 years after Galileo, first with a telescope of 12 feet,
and then with one of 23 feet, which magnified objects
100 times. From the discoveries made by him and
other astronomers, it appears that this planet is sur¬
rounded by a broad thin ring, the edge of which re¬
flects little or none of the sun’s light to us, but the
planes of the ring reflect the light in the same manner
that the planet itself does j and if we suppose the dia¬
meter of Saturn to be divided into three equal parts,
the diameter of the ring is about seven of these parts.
The ring is detached from the body of Saturn in such a
manner, that the distance between the innermost part of
the ring and the body is equal to its breadth. If we had
a view of the planet and his ring, with our eyes, per¬
pendicular to one ot the planes of the latter, we should
see them as in fig. '72.: but our eye is never so much ele¬
vated above either plane as to have the visual ray stand
at right angles to it, nor indeed is it ever elevated more
than about 30 degrees above it; so that the ring, be¬
ing commonly viewed at an oblique angle, appears of
an oval form, and through very good telescopes double,
as represented fig. 73. and 74. Both the outward
and inward rim is projected into an ellipsis, more or
less oblong according to the different degrees of obli¬
quity with which it is viewed. Sometimes our eye is
in the plane of the ring, and then it becomes invisible;
either because the outward edge is not fitted to reflect
the sun’s light, or more probably because it is too thin
to be seen at such a distance. As the plane of this
ring keeps always parallel to itself, that is, its situation
in one part of the orbit is alwavs parallel to that in any
other part, it disappears twice in every revolution of the
planet, that is, about once in 13 years ; and he some¬
times appeals quite round for nine months together.
At other times, the distance betwixt the body of the
planet and the ring is very perceptible ; insomuch that
Mr W luston tells us of Dr Clarke’s father having seen
a star through the opening, and supposed him to have
been the only person who ever saw a sight so rare, ns
the opening, though certainly very large, appears very
small to us. When Saturn appears round, if our eye
he in the plane of the ring, it will appear as a dark
hue across the middle of the planet’s disk; and if our
eye be elevated above the plane of the ring, a shadowy
belt will be visible, caused by the shadow of the ring
as well as by the interposition of part of it betwixt the
eye and the planet. The shadow of the ring is broad¬
est when the sun is most elevated, but its obscure parts
appear broadest when our eye is most elevated above
J _ I £ - .  7    ft
next the body of the planet appears brightest ; when Motions
the ring appears of an elliptical form, the parts about of tlw
the ends of the largest axis are called the ansce, as lias
been already mentioned. These, a little before and .
after the disappearing of the ring, are of unequal mag¬
nitude: the largest ansa is longer visible before the pla¬
net’s round phase, and appeal's again sooner, than the jSq
other. On the first of October 17x4, the largest ansa Ring of Sa-
was on the east side, and on the 12th on the west sidetum Pr°-
ol the disk ot the planet, which makes it probable that kas a
the ring has a rotation round an axis. Herschel has on™ ” axis,
demonstrated, that it revolves in its own plane in 10
hours 32' 15.4". The observations of this philosopher
have added greatly to our knowledge of Saturn’s ring.
According to him there is one single, dark, considera¬
bly broad line, belt, or zone, which he has constant¬
ly found on the north side of the ring. As this dark
belt is subject to no change whatever, it is probably
owing to some permanent construction of the surface of
the ring: this construction cannot be owing to the sha¬
dow of a chain of mountains, since it is visible all
round on the ring ; for there could be no shade at the
ends of the ring : a similar argument will apply against
the opinion of very extended caverns. It is pretty
evident that this dark zone is contained between two
concentric circles ; for all the phenomena correspond
with the projection of such a zone. The nature of the
ring Hr Herschel thinks no less solid than that of Sa¬
turn itself, and it is observed to cast a strong shadow
upon the planet. The light of the ring is also gene¬
rally brighter than that of the planet; for the ring ap¬
pears sufficiently bright when the telescope affords
scarcely light enough for Saturn. The doctor concludes
that the edge of the ring is not flat, hut spherical or
speroidical. The dimensions of the ring, or of the two
rings with the space between them, Hr Herschel gives
as below :
, Miles.
Inner diameter of smaller ring I46345
Outside diam. of ditto 184393
Inner diam. of larger ring 190248
Outside diam. of ditto 204883
Breadth of the inner ring 20000
Breadth of the outer ring 7200
Breadth of the vacant space, or dark zone
1 here have been various conjectures relative to
the nature of this ring. Some persons have ima¬
gined that the diameter of the planet Saturn was once
equal to the present diameter of the outer rint>>,
and that it was hollow; the present body bein^ con¬
tained within the former surface, in like manner as a
kernel is contained within its shell: they suppose that,
in consequence of some concussion, or other cause, the
outer shell all fell down to the inner body, and left
only the ring at the greater distance from the centre,
as we now perceive it. This conjecture is in some
measure corroborated by the consideration, that both
the planet and its ring perform their rotations about
the same common axis, and in very nearly the same
time. But from the observations of Hr Herschel he
thus concludes : “ It does not appear to me that there
is sufficient ground for admitting the ring of Saturn to
be of a very changeable nature, and I guess that its
phenomena will hereafter be so fully explained, as to
reconcile-
62
Apparent
Motions
ot the
Heavenly
Bodies.
1S1
His seven
satellites.
reconcile all observations.
withhold a final judgment of its construction, till we
can have more observations. Its division, however,
into two very unequal parts, can admit of no doubt.”
' The diameters of Saturn are not equal: that which
is perpendicular to the plane of his ring appears less by
one-eleventh than the diameter situated in that plane.
If we compare this form with that of Jupiter, we have
reason to conclude that Saturn turns rapidly round his
shorter axis, and that the ring moves in the plane of his
equator. Herscbel has confirmed this opinion by actual
observation. He has ascertained the duration of a re¬
volution of Saturn round his axis to amount to 0.428
day. Huygens observed five belts upon this planet
nearly parallel to the equator.
Saturn is still better attended than Jupiter^see fig. 18.
and 186.) j having, besides the ring above-mentioned,
no fewer than seven moons continually circulating round
him. Hie first, at the distance of 2.097 semidiameters
of his ring, and 4.893 of the planet itself, performs its
revolution in 1 d. 21 h. 18' 57" j the second, at 2.686
semidiameters of the ring, and 6.268 of Saturn, re¬
volves in 2d. 17 h. 41' 22"; the third, at the di¬
stance of 8.754 semidiameters of Saturn, and 3.752
of the ring, in 4 d. 12I1. 25' 12" 5 the fourth, called
the Hin/genian satellite, 'at 8.698 semidiameters of the
ring, and 20.295 Saturn, revolves in 15 d. 22 h. 41'
12"; while the fifth, placed at the vast distance of
59.154 semidiameters of Saturn, or 25.348 of his ring,
does not perform its revolution in less than 79 d. 7 h.
47' 00". The orbits of all these satellites, except the
fifth, are nearly in the same plane, which makes an
angle with the plane of Saturn’s orbit of about 31° 5
and by reason of their being inclined at such large
angles, they cannot pass either across their primary or
behind it with respect to the earth, except when very
near their nodes 5 so that eclipses of them happen much
more seldom than of the satellites of Jupiter. There
is, however, an account in the Philos. Transact, of an
occultation of the fourth satellite behind the body of
Saturn j and there is a curious account by Cassini in
the Memoirs of the Royal Academy for 1692, of a
fixed star being covered by the fourth satellite, so that
Fifth satel-for 13 minutes they appeared both as one star. By
times°die' reason extreme smallness, these satellites cannot
pears amf *,e 8een lI11^ess ^ie air be very clear; and Dorn. Cassini
for several years observed the fifth satellite to grow less
and less as it went through the eastern part of its or¬
bit until it became quite invisible; while in the western
part it gradually became more and more bright until
it arrived at its greatest splendour.—“ This phenomenon
(says Dr Long) cannot be better accounted for than
by supposing one half of the surface of this satellite to
be unfit to reflect the light of the sun in sufficient
quantity to make it visible, and that it turns round its
axis nearly in the same time as it revolves round its
primary; and that, by means of this rotation, and
keeping always the same face toward Saturn, we upon
the earth may, during one half of its periodical time,
be able to see successively more and more of its bright
side, and during the other half of its period have more
and more of the spotted or dark side turned towards us.
In the year 1705, this satellite unexpectedly became
visible in all parts of its orbit through the very same
2
ASTRONOMY. Part
In the meanwhile Ave must telescopes that were before often made use of to view it
in the eastern part without success : this sIioavs the spots
upon this satellite, like those upon Jupiter and some
other of the primary planets, are not permanent, but JI^aTei
subject to change.” . v ^
The two other satellites were discovered by DrHer-
Apparc
Motioi
of th(
1S2
why.
schel in 1787 and 1788. They are nearer to Saturn
than any of the other five. But in order to prevent con¬
fusion, they have been called the 6th and 7th satellites.
The filth satellite has been observed by Dr Herschel
to turn once round its axis, exactly in the time in
Avliich it revolves round Saturn. In this respect it re¬
sembles our moon. *
Sect. VI. 0/' Her schel.
The planets hitherto described have been known
from the remotest antiquity ; but the planet Herschel,
called also the Georgium Sidus, and Uranus, escaped
attention of the ancient astronomers. Flamstead,
th
183
Mayer, and Le Mounier had observed it as a small
star; hut in 1781 Dr Herschel discovered its motion,
and ascertained, it to be a planet. Like Mars, Jupi¬
ter, and Saturn, it moves from west to east round the
sun. Ihe duration of its sidereal reA'olution is 30689
days. Its motion, Avbich is nearly in the plane of the
ecliptic, begins to be retrograde before and after the
opposition, Avhen the planet is 103.5° fr°m the sun ;
its retrograde motion continues for about 151 days;
and the arc of retrogradation amounts to 3.6®. If we
judge of the distance of this planet by the slowness of
it motions, it ought to be at the very confines of the
planetary system.
The apparent magnitude of this planet is so small Its satel-
that it can seldom be seen Avith the naked eye. It is^tes*
accompanied by six satellites : tAvo of them, which
Avere discovered by Dr Herschel in 1787, revolve about
that planet in periods of 8 d. 17 h. 1 m. 19. sec. and
13 d. 11 h. 5 m. 14 sec. respectively, the angular di¬
stances from the primary being 33" and 44!-" : their
orbits are nearly perpendicular to the plane of the
ecliptic. The history of the discovery of the other four,
Avith such elements as could then be ascertained, are
given in the Philosophical Transactions for 1798,
Part I. The precise periods of these additional satel¬
lites cannot be ascertained without a greater number of
observations than had been made when Dr Herschel
sent the account of theirdiscovery to the Royal Society ;
hut he gave the following estimates as the most probable
which could be formed by means of the data then de¬
termined. Admitting the distance of the anterior satel¬
lite to be 25".5, its periodical revolution veill be 5 d.
21 h. 25 m. It the intermediate satellite be placed at
an equal distance bettveen the two old satellites, or at
38"-57j its period Avill be 10 d. 23 h. 4 m. The nearest
exterior satellite is about double the distance of the
farthest old one; its periodical time Avill therefore be
about 38 d. 1 h. 49 m. The most distant satellite is
full four times as far from the planet as the old second
satellite: it will therefore take at least 107 d. i6h.
40 m. to complete one revolution. All these satellites
perform their revolutions in their orbits contrary to the
order of the sigtis; that is, their real motion is retro¬
grade.
Sect.
A S T R
Sect. VII. Of Ceres and Pallas.
'I'ljese two planets, lately discovered by Piazza and
-Jf—~ ■ Olbers, two foreign astronomers, ought to have follow¬
ed Mars in the order of description, as their orbits are
placed between those of Mars and Jupiter j but as they
have been observed only for a very short time, we
judged it more proper to reserve the account of them
till we came to the words Ceres and Pallas, when
the elements of their orbits will in all probability be
determined with more precision than at present. They
are invisible to the naked eye j and Dr Herschel has
ascertained that their size is extremely small. For that
reason, together with the great obliquity of their orbits,
he has proposed to distinguish them from the planets,
and to call them asteroids.
Chap. IV. Of the Comets.
The planets are not the only moving bodies visible
in the heavens. There are others which appear at un¬
certain intervals, and with a very different aspect from
the planets. These are very numerous, and no fewer
than 450 are supposed to belong to our solar system.
They are called Comets, from their having a long tail,
somewhat resembling the appearance of hair. This,
however, is not always the case ; for some comets have
appeared which were as well defined, and as round as
planets : but in general they have a luminous matter dif¬
fused around them, or projecting out from them, which
to appearance very much resembles the Aurora Borea-
183 lis. When these appear, they come in a direct line to¬
wards the sun, as it they were going to fall into his
body; and after having disappeared for some time in con¬
sequence of their proximity to that luminary, they fly
off again on the other side as fast as they came, project¬
ing a tail much greater and brighter in their recess
from him than when they advanced towards him ; but,
getting daily at a farther distance from us in the hea¬
vens, tney continually lose of their splendour, and at
last totally disappear. Their apparent magnitude is ve¬
ry different; sometimes they appear only of the bigness
of the fixed stars ; at other times they will equal the
diameter of \ enus, and sometimes even of the sun or
moon. So, in 1652, Hevelius observed a comet which
seemed not inferior to the moon in size, though it had
not so bright a splendour, but appeared with a pale and
dun light, and had a dismal aspect. These bodies will
also sometimes lose their splendour suddenly, while their
apparent bulk remains unaltered. With respect to their
apparent motions, they have all the inequalities of the
planets ; sometimes seeming to go forwards, sometimes
backwards, and sometimes to be stationary.
T. he comets, viewed thi’ough a telescope, have a very
different appearance from any of the planets. The nu¬
cleus, or star, seems much more dim. Sturmius tells
us, that observing the comet of 1680 with a telescope,
it appeared like a coal dimly glowing ; or a rude mass
of matter illuminated with a dusky fumid light, less sen¬
sible at the extremes than in the middle; and not at all
like a stai, which appears with around disk and a vivid
light.
Hevelius observed of the comet in 1661, that its
lit
ar
til.
ilotioiis
of the
eavenly
If
O N O M Y._ 63
body was of a yellowish colour, bright and conspicuous, Apparent
but without any glittering light. Jn the middle was a Motions
dense ruddy nucleus, almost equal to Jupiter, encom- of tlle
passed with a much fainter thinner matter.—February
5th. I he nucleus was somewhat bigger and brighter, > ^ ' ^ .
of a gold colour, but its light more dusky than the rest
of the stars; it appeared also divided into a number of
parts.—I'eb. 6th. 1 he nuclei still appeared, though
less than before. One of them on the left side of the
lower part of the disk appeared to be much denser and
brighter than the rest; its body round, and representing
a little lucid star ; the nuclei still encompassed with
another kind of matter.—Feb. 10th. The nuclei more
obscure and confused, but brighter at top than at bot¬
tom.—l(eb. 13th. The head diminished much both in
brightness and in magnitude.—March 2d. Its round¬
ness a little impaired, and the edges lacerated.—March
28th. Its matter much dispersed; and no distinct nu¬
cleus at all appearing.
Wiegelius, who saw through a telescope the comet
of 1664, tbe moon, and a little cloud illuminated by
the sun, at the same time, observed that the moon ap¬
peared of a continued luminous surface, but the comet
very different, being perfectly like the little cloud en¬
lightened by the sun’s beams.
The comets, too, are to appearance surrounded with At.no-
atmospheres of a prodigious size, often rising ten times 8Pheres and
higher than the nucleus. They have often likewise dif-phases of
ferent phases, like the moon. comets.
“ The head of a comet (says Dr Long) to the eye, Dr Dong’s
unassisted by glasses, appears sometimes like a cloudy account of
star ; sometimes shines with a dull light like that of thethem*
planet Saturn : some comets have been said to equal,
some to exceed, stars of the first magnitude ; some to
have surpassed Jupiter, and even Venus ; and to have
cast a shadow as Venus sometimes does.
“ The head of a comet, seen through a good tele¬
scope, appears to consist of a solid globe, and an at¬
mosphere that surrounds it. The solid part is fre¬
quently called the nucleus ; which through a telescope
is easily distinguished from the atmosphere or hairy ap¬
pearance.
“ A comet is generally attended with a blaze or tail,
whereby it is distinguished from a star or planet; as it
is also by its motion. Sometimes the tail only of a co¬
met has been visible at a place where the head has been
all the while under the horizon ; such an appearance is
called a beam. lg(5
“ The nucleus of the comet of 1618 is said, a fewAPPear»n-
days after coming into view, to have broken into three Ges of the
or four parts of irregular figures. One observer com- j^g1 ot
pares them to so many burning coals ; and says they
changed their situation while he was looking at them,
as when a person stirs a fire ; and a few days after were
broken into a great number of smaller pieces. Another
account of the same is, that on the 1st and 4th of De¬
cember, the nucleus appeared to be a round, solid, and
luminous body, of a dusky lead colour, larger than any
star of the first magnitude. On the 8th of the same
month it was broken into three or four parts of irregu¬
lar figures; and on the 20th was changed into a cluster
of small stars.
“ As the tail of a comet is owing to the heat of the Pileno,ue;
sun, it grows larger as the comet approaches near to, tIleli?
and
64
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
18S
Difference
between
the obser¬
vations of
Hevelius
and Hooke,
i5q
Account of
the comet
of x6So.
and shortens as it recedes from, that luminary. If the
tail of a comet were to continue of the same length, it
would appear longer or shorter according to the differ¬
ent views of the spectator j for if his eye be in a line
j drawn through the middle of the tail lengthwise, or
nearly so, the tail will not be distinguished from the rest
ol the atmosphere, but the whole will appear round $ if
the eye be a little out of that line, the tail will appear
short as in fig. 75.; and it is called a bearded comet,
when the tail hangs down towards the horizon, as in
that figure. It the tail of a comet be viewed sidewise,
the whole length of it is seen. It is obvious to remark,
that the nearer the eye is to the tail, the greater will
be the apparent length thereof.
“ The tails of comets often appear bent, as in fig. 76.
and 77. owing to the resistance of the aether 5 which,
though extremely small, may have a sensible effect on
so thin a vapour as the tails consist of. This bending
is seen only when the earth is not in the plane of the
orbit of the comet continued. When that plane passes
through the eye of the spectator, the tail appears
straight, as in fig. 78, 79.
“ Longomontanus mentions a comet, that, in 1618,
-Dec. 10th, had a tail above 100 degrees in length ;
which shows that it must then have been very near the
earth. The tail of a comet will at the same time ap¬
pear of different lengths in different places, according
as the air in one place is clearer than in another. It
need not be mentioned, that in the same place, the dif¬
ference in the eyes of the spectators will be the cause
of their disagreeing in their estimate of the length of
the tail of a comet.
“ Hevelius is very particular in telling us, that he
observed the comet of 1665 to cast a shadow upon the
tail j for in the middle thereof there appeared a dark
line. It is somewhat surprising, that Hooke should be
-positive in affirming, on the contrary, that the place
where the shadow of the comet should have been, if
there had been any shadow, was brighter than any other
part of the tail. He was of opinion that comets have
some light of their own : His observations were made in
a hurry ; he owns they were short and transitory. He-
velius’s were made with so much care, that there is more
reason to depend upon them. Dom. Cassini observed,
ip the tail of the comet of 1680, a darkness in the mid¬
dle ; and the like was taken notice of by a curious ob¬
server in that of 1744.
“ There are three comets, viz. of 1680, 1744, and
1759, that deserve to have a farther account given of
them. The comet of 1680 was remarkable for its near
approach to the sun ; so near, that in its perihelion it
was not above a sixth part of the diameter of that lumi¬
nary from the surface thereof. Fig. 77. taken from
Newton’s Principia, represents so much of the trajectory
of this comet as it passed through while it was visible to
the inhabitants of our earth, in going from and return¬
ing to its perihelion. It shows also the tail, as it ap¬
peared on the days mentioned in the figure. The tail,
like that of other comets, increased in length and bright¬
ness as it came nearer to the sun ; and grew shorter and
fainter as it went farther from him and from the earth,
till that and the comet were too far off to be any longer
visible.
‘‘ The comet of 1744 was first seen at Lausanne in
Part I
Appaj-en
Motion
of the
Heaveul
Bodies.
Switzerland, Dec. 13. 1743, N. S. From that time
it increased in brightness and magnitude as it was co¬
ming nearer to the sun. The diameter of it, when at
the distance of the sun from us, measured about one
minute ; which brings it out equal to three times the
diameter of the earth. It came so near Mercury, that, ip0
if its attraction had been proportionable to its magni-Of that 0
tude, it was thought probable it would have disturbed I744*
the motion of that planet. Mr Betts of Oxford, how¬
ever, from some observations made there, and at Lord
Macclesfield’s observatory at Sherburn, found, that
when the comet was at its least distance from Mercury,
and almost twice as near the sun as that planet was, it
was still distant from him a fifth part of the distance
of the sun from the earth 5 and could therefore have no
effect upon the planet’s motions. He judged the co¬
met to be at least equal in magnitude to the earth. He
says, that in the evening of Jan. 23d, this comet ap¬
peared exceedingly distinct and bright, and the diame¬
ter of its nucleus nearly equal to that of Jupiter. Its
tail extended above 26 degrees from its body ; and was
in length, supposing the sun’s parallax 10", no less than
23 millions of miles. Dr Bevis, in the month of May
1744, made four observations of Mercury, and found
the places of that planet, calculated from correct ta¬
bles, differed so little from the places observed, as to
show that the comet had no influence upon Mercury’s
motion.
“ The nucleus, which had before been always round,
on the 10th of February appeared oblong in the di¬
rection of the tail, and seemed divided into two parts,
by a black stroke in the middle. One of the parts
had a sort of beard brighter than the tail ; this beard
was surrounded by two unequal dark strokes, that se¬
parated the beard from the hair of the comet. The
odd phenomena disappeared the next day, and nothing
was seen but irregular obscure spaces like smoke in the
middle of the tail 5 and the head resumed its natural
form. February 15th, the tail was divided into two
branches ; the eastern part about seven or eight degrees
long, the western 24. On the 23d, the tail began to
be bent; it shewed no tail till it was as near to the sun
as the orbit of Mars $ the tail grew longer as it ap¬
proached nearer the sun ; and at its greatest length was
computed to equal a third part of the distance of the
earth from the sun. Fig. 76. is a view of this comet,
taken by an observer at Cambridge. I remember that,
in viewing it, I thought the tail seemed to sparkle, or
vibrate luminous particles. Hevelius mentions the like
in other comets; and that their tails lengthen and short¬
en while we are viewing. This is probably owing to
the motion of our air.
“ The comet of 1759 did not make any consider-or I.91
able appearance by reason of the unfavourable situation C°
of the earth all the time its tail might otherwise have 1759.
been conspicuous; the comet being then too near the
sun to be seen by us; but deserves our particular con¬
sideration, as it was the first that ever had its return
foretold.”
Hevelius gives pictures of comets of various shapes;
as they are described by historians to have been like a
sword, a buckler, a tun, &c. These are drawn by
fancy only, from the description in words. He gives,
however, also pictures of some comets, engraved by
his
rtl
'PSft!
otioi
'ftllt
iaveu
odiet
?il
190
that
4-
Part
IT.
y tele-
;.'opes.
Apparent f1*3 °wn nand from the views he had of them through
Motion* a very long and excellent telescope. In these we find
of the changes in the nucleus and the atmosphere of the same
Bodies/ comet• Th® nucleus of the comet of 1661, which in
■ -y— > one observation appeared as one round body, as it is
represented in fig. 87. in subsequent views seemed to
consist of several smaller ones separated from one ano¬
ther, as in fig. 86. The atmosphere surrounding
the nucleus, at different times, varied in the extent
thereof; as did also the tail in length and breadth.
The nuclei of other comets, as has already been ob¬
served, have sometimes phases like the moon. Those
of 1744 I7^9 both this kind of appearance.
Chap. V. Of the Fixed Stars.
dumber of Tke parallax of the stars is insensible. When viewed
xed stars through the best telescopes, they appear not at all mag-
ucreascd nified, but rather diminished in bulk ; by reason as
is thought by some, that the telescope takes off that
twinkling appearance they make to the naked eye ;
but by others, more probably, that the telescope tube
excludes a quantity of the rays of light, which are not
only emitted from the particular stars themselves, but
by many thousands more, which falling upon our eye¬
lids and the aerial particles about us, are reflected into
our eyes so strongly as to excite vibrations, not only on
those points of the retina where the images of the stars
are formed, but also in other points at the same distance
round about. Ibis, without the telescope, makes us ima¬
gine the stars to be much bigger than when we see them
only by a few rays coming directly from them, so as
to enter our eyes without being intermixed with others.
The smallness of their apparent diametejr is proved by
the suddenness with which they disappear on their oc-
cultations by the moon. The time which they take
does not amount to one second, which shows their ap¬
parent diameter not to exceed 4". The vivacity of
their light, compared with their small diameter, leads
us to suppose them at a much greater distance than the
planets, and to consider them as luminous bodies like
our sun, instead of borrowing their light from that lu-
l93 minary like the planets.
lilfferent -The stars, on account of their apparently various mag-
|<agnitudesnitudes, have been distributed into several classes or or-
I the stars. ders. Those which appear largest are called stars o/*
the first magnitude ; the next to them in lustre, stars of
the second magnitude 1 and so on to the sixthly which are
the smallest that are visible to the naked eye. This dis¬
tribution having been made long before the invention
of telescopes, the stars which cannot be seen without the
assistance of these instruments are distinguished by the
name of telescopic stars.
The ancients divided the starry sphere into particu¬
lar constellations, or systems of stars, according as they
lay near one another, so as to occupy those spaces which
the figures of different sorts of animals or things would
jjaformed take up, if they were there delineated. And those stars
which could not be brought into any particular constel¬
lation were called unformed stars.
ASTRONOMY. 65
This division of the stars into different constellations, Apparent
or asterisms, serves to distinguish them from one ano~ Motions
ther, so that any particular star may be readily found ot the
in the heavens by means of a celestial globe ; on which H^,een'y
the constellations are so delineated, as to put the most . ■
remarkable stars into such parts of the figures as are iptf
most easily distinguished. The number of the ancient Uses of
1 194
-descop
pars.
*95
constellations is 48, and upon our present globes about
70. On Senex’s globes are inserted Bayer’s letters ; constella
the first in the Greek alphabet being put to the biggest turns/
star in each constellation, the second to the next, and
so on : by which means, every star is as easily found as
if a name were given to it. Thus, if the star y in the
constellation of the Ram be mentioned, every astrono¬
mer knows as well what star is meant as if it were
pointed out to him in the heavens. See fig. 205,
206, where the stars are represented with the figures
ol the animals fiom whence the constellations are
marked.
• • • ^97
These is also a division of the heavens into three Division of
parts. 1. The zodiac from iso^/o??, the hea-
“an animal,” because most of the constellations in it,vens’
which are 12 in number, have the names of animals : Fig. 26, 29.
As dries the ram, Taurus the bull, Gemini the twins,
Cancer the crab, Leo the lion, Virgo the virgin, Libra
the balance, Scorpio the scorpion, Sagittarius the archer,
Capricornus the goat, Aquarius the water-bearer, and
Fisces the fishes. The zodiac goes quite round the hea¬
vens : it is about 16 degrees broad, so that it takes in
the orbits of all the planets, and likewise the orbit of
the moon. Along the middle of this zone or belt is the
ecliptic, or circle which the earth describes annually as
seen from the sun, and which the sun appears to de¬
scribe as seen from the earth. 2. All that region of
the heavens which is on the north side of the zodiac,
containing 21 constellations. And, 3. That on the
south side, containing 15.
The ancients divided the zodiac into the above 12Zodk^chow
constellations or signs in the following manner : They divided,
took a vessel with a small hole in the bottom, and, ha¬
ving filled it with water, suffered the same to distil drop
by drop into another vessel set beneath to receive it ;
beginning at the moment when some star arose, and con¬
tinuing till it rose the next following night. The wa¬
ter falling down into the receiver they divided into
12 equal parts; and having two other small vessels
in readiness, each of them fit to contain one part,
they again poured all the water into the upper vessel ;
and, observing the rising of some star in the zodiac,
they at the same time suffered the water to drop in¬
to one of the small vessels ; and as soon as it was
full, they shifted it, and set an empty one in its place.
When each vessel was full, they took notice what star
of the zodiac rose; and though this could not be done
in one night, yet in many they observed the rising of
12 stars or points, by which they divided the zodiac in¬
to 12 parts.
The names of the constellations, and the number of
stars observed in each of them by different astronomers,
are as follows.
Vol. III. Part I.
The
66
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
i99
Catalogue
of the con¬
stellations.
ASTRONOMY.
27ie Ancient Constellations.
Ursa minor
Ursa major
Draco
Cepheus
Bootes, Arctopliilax
Corona Borealis
Hercules, Engonasin
Lyra
Cygnus, Gallina
Cassiopeia
Perseus
Auriga
Serpentarius, Ophiuchus
Serpens
Sagitta
Aquila, Vultur
Antinous
Delphinus
Equulus, Equi sectio
Pegasus, Equus
Andromeda
Triangulum
Aries
Taurus
Gemini
Cancer
Leo
Coma Berenices
Virgo
Libra, Chelae
Scorpio
Sagittarius
Capricornus
Aquarius
Pisces
Cetus
Orion
Eridanus, Fluvius
Lepus
Canis major
Canis minor
Argo Navis
Plydra
Crater
Corvus
Centaurus
Lupus
Ara
Corona Australis
Piscis Australis
The Little Bear
The Great Bear
The Dragon
Cepheus
The Northern Crown
Hercules kneeling
The Harp
The Swan
The Lady in her chair
Perseus
The Waggoner
Serpentarius
The Serpent
The Arrow
The Eagle 7
Antinous 3
The Dolphin
The Horse’s Head
The Flying Horse
Andromeda
The Triangle
The Ram
The Bull
The Twins
The Crab
The Lion
Berenice’s Hair
The Virgin
The Scales
The Scorpion
The Archer
The Goat
The Water-bearer
The Fishes
The Whale
Orion
Eridanus, the River
The Hare
The Great Dog
The Little Dog
The Ship
The Hydra
The Cup
The Crow
The Centaur
The Wolf
The Altar
The Southern Crown
The Southern Fish
}
Ptolemy.
8
35
31
13
23
8
29
10
10
J3
29
14
29
18
5
15
10
4
20
23
4
18
44
25
23
35
32
J7
24
31
28
45
38
22
38
34
12
29
2
45
27
7
7
37
19
7
13
18
The New Southern Constellations.
Columba Noachi
Robur Carolinum
Grus
Phoenix
Indus
Pavo
Apus, Avis Indica
Noah’s Dove
The Royal Oak
The Crane
The Phenix
The Indian
The Peacock
The Bird of Paradise
10
12
13
*3
12
14
11
Tycho.
7
29
32
4
18
8 '
28
11
18
26
29
9
15
l3
5
12
3
10
4
*9
23
4
21
43
25
15
3°
33
10
10
*4
28
41
36
21
42
10
J3
13
2
3
19
3
4
Apis, Musca
Chamaeleon
Triangulum Australe
Piscis volans, Passer
Dorado, Xiphias
Toucan
Hydros
Hevelius.
12
73
40
51
52
8
45
*7
47
37
46
40
40
22
5
23
!9
14
6
'38
47
12
27
51
38
29
49
21
5°
20
20
22
29
47
39
45
62
27
16
21
J3
4
3*
10
Part II
Flamstead.
24
87
80
Apparent!
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
' 11
35
54
21
ii3
21
81
55
59
66
74
64
18
71
18
JO
66
16
66
141
85
83
95
43
no
5i
44
69
5i
108
iJ3
97
78
84
J9
3i
*4
64
60
3i
9
35
24
9
12
24
The Bee or Fly
The Chameleon
The South Triangle
The Flying Fish
The Sword Fish
The American Goose
The Water Snake
10
10
Hevelius's
til
Part II.
ASTRONOMY.
67
Motion*1 He veUus's Constellations made out of the unformed Stars.
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Hevel. Flamst.
Lynx
Leo minor
Asterion & Chara
Cerberus
Vulpecula & Anser
Scutum Sobieski
Lacerta
Camelopardalus
Monoceros
Sextans
The Lynx
The Little Lion
The Greyhounds
Cerberus
The Fox and Goose
Sobieski’s Shield
The Lizard
The Camelopard
The Unicorn
The Sextant
J9
23
4
27
7
10
S2
!9
n
44
53
25
35
16
58
31
41
100
r Hal-
y’s hi-
ktry of
fcw stars,
Several stars observed by the ancients are now no
more to be seen, but are destroyed j and new ones have
appeared which were unknown to the ancients. Some
of them have also disappeared for some time, and again
become visible.
We are also assured from the observations of astrono¬
mers, that some stars have been observed which never
were seen before, and for a certain time they have di¬
stinguished themselves by their superlative lustre 5 but
afterwards decreasing, they vanished by degrees, and
were no more to be seen. One of these stars being first
seen and observed by Hipparchus, the chief of the an¬
cient astronomers, set him upon composing a catalogue
of the fixed stars, that by it posterity might learn
whether any of the stars perish, and others are produ¬
ced afresh.
After several ages, another new star appeared to Ty¬
cho Brahe and the astronomers who were cotemporary
with him : which put him on the same design with
Hipparchus, namely, the making a catalogue of the
fixed stars. Of this, and other stars which have ap¬
peared since that time, we have the following history
by Dr Halley : “ The first new star in the chair of
Cassiopeia, was not seen by Cornelius Gemma on the
8th of November 1572, who says, he that night con¬
sidered that part of the heaven in a very serene sky,
and saw it not : but that the next night, November 9.
it appeared with a splendour surpassing all the fixed
stars, and scarce less bright than Venus. This was not
seen by Tycho Brahe before the nth of the same
month : but from thence he assures ns that it gradually
decreased and died away, so as in March 1574, after
sixteen months, to be no longer visible ; and at this day
no signs of it remain. The place thereof in the sphere
of fixed stars, by the accurate observations of the same
Tycho, was os 90 17' a im* * <Y'is, with 530 45' north
latitude.
“ Such another star was seen and observed by the
scholars of Kepler, to begin to appear on Sept. 30. st.
vet. anno 1604, which was not to be seen the day be¬
fore : but it broke out at once with a lustre surpassing
that of Jupiter; and like the former, it died away gra¬
dually, and in much about the same time disappeared
totally, there remaining no footsteps thereof in Janu¬
ary i6o£. This was near the ecliptic, following the
right leg of Serpentarius j and by the observations of
Kepler and others, was in 7s 20° oo' a im4 * <v>, with
north latitude i° 56k These two seem to be of a di¬
stinct species from the rest, and nothing like them has
appeared since.
“ But between them, viz. in the year 1596, we have
the first account of the wonderful star in Colit) Ceti, Apparent
seen by David Fabricius on the third of August st. vet. Motions
as bright as a star of the 3d magnitude, which has
been since found to appear and disappear periodically ; Bodies,
its period being precisely enough seven revolutions in -y—..v
six years, though it returns not always with the same
lustre. Nor is it ever totally extinguished, but may at
all times be seen with a six feet tube. This was singu¬
lar in its kind, till that in Collo Cygni was discovered.
It precedes the first star of Aries i° 40', with 150 57'
south latitude.
“ Another new star was first discovered by William
Jansonius in the year 1600, in pectore, or rather in
eductione^ Colli Cygni, which exceeded not the third
magnitude. This having continued some years, became
at length so small, as to be thought by some to have
disappeared entirely 5 but in the years 1657, and
1659, again rose to the third magnitude 5 though
soon after it decayed by degrees to the fifth or sixth
magnitude, and at this day is to be seen as such in 9s
18° 38' a im* * <y>, with 550 29' north latitude.
“ A fifth new star was first seen by Hevelius in the
year 1670, on July 15. st. vet. as a star of the third
magnitude, but by the beginning of October was scarce
to be perceived by the naked eye. In April following
it was again as bright as before, or rather greater than
of the third magnitude, yet wholly disappeared about
the middle of August. The next year, in March 1672,
it was seen again, but not exceeding the sixth magni¬
tude : since when, it has been no further visible, though
we have frequently sought for its return j its place is
9s 3° 17' a iraa * <Y>, and has lat. north 470 28'.
“ The sixth and last is that discovered by Mr G.
Kirch in the year 1686, and its period determined to
be of 404!- days j and though it rarely exceeds the fifth
magnitude, yet it is .very regular in its returns, as we
found in the year 1714. Since then we have watched,
as the absence of the moon and clearness of the weather
would permit, to catch the first beginning of its appear¬
ance in a six feet tube, that, bearing a very great aper¬
ture, discovers most minute stars. And on June 15.
last, it was first perceived like one of the very least te-
lescopical stars j but in the rest of that month and July,
it gradually increased, so as to become in August visible
to the naked eye : and so continued till the month of
September. After that, it again died away by degrees :
and on the 8th of December, at night, was scarcely
discernible by the tube; and, as near as could be gues¬
sed, equal to what it was at its first appearance on June
25th : so that this year it has been seen in all near six
months, which is but little less than half its period ; and
the middle, and consequently the greatest brightness,
falls about the 10th of September.” 20r
Concerning the changes which happen among the Mr Mouta-
fixed stars, Mr Montanere, professor of mathematics atnere’s ac-
Bononia, gave the following account, in a letter to the count
Royal Society, dated April 30th 1670. “ There areama^es*
now wanting in the heavens two stars of the second the fixed
magnitude in the stern of the ship Argo, and its yard ; stars.
Bayerus marked them with the letters /3 and %. I and
others observed them in the year 1664, upon the oc¬
casion of the comet that appeared that year : when
they disappeared first, I know not: only I am sure that
in the year 1668, upon the 10th of April, there was
not the least glimpse of them to be seen j and yet the
I 2 rest
68
ASTRO
Apparent
Motion's
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
aoa
Mr Bigot’s
remarks on
the ac¬
counts of
variable
stars.
*03
Star in Gol
lo Ceti.
304
Algol.
rest about them, even of the third and fourth magni¬
tudes, remained the same. I have observed many more
changes among the fixed stars, even to the number of
a hundred, though none of them are so great as those I
have showed.”
I he late improvements in astronomy, and particu¬
larly those in the construction of telescopes, have now
given astronomers an opportunity of observing the
changes which take place among the stars with much
greater accuracy than could be formerly done. In a
paper in the 76th volume of the Philosophical Trans¬
actions, Mr Pdward Pigot gives a dissertation on the
stars suspected by the astronomers of last century to be
changeable. For the greater accuracy in the investi¬
gation of his subject, he divides them into two classes j
one containing those which are undoubtedly change¬
able, and the other those which are only suspected to
be so. The former contains a list of 12 stars, from the
first to the fourth magnitude j including the new one
which appeared in Cassiopeia in 1572, and that in Ser-
pentarius in 1604 : the other contains the names of 38
stars of all magnitudes, from the first to the seventh.
He is of opinion, that the celebrated new star in Cassio¬
peia is a periodical one, and that it returns once in 150
years, Mr Keill is of the same opinion : and Mr Pigot
thinks, that its not being observed at the expiration°of
each period is no argument against the truth of that opi¬
nion ; “ since (says he), perhaps, as with most of the
variables, it may at different periods have different de¬
grees of lustre, so as sometimes only to increase to the
ninth magnitude 5 and if this should be the case, its pe¬
riod is probably much shorter.” For this reason, in
September 1782, he took a plan of the small stars near
the place where it formerly appeared, but in four years
had observed no alteration.
The star in the neck of the Whale had also been ex¬
amined by Mr Pigot from the end of 1782 to 1786}
but he never found it exceed the sixth magnitude 5
though Mr Goodricke had observed it on the 9th of
August to be of the second magnitude, and on the 3d
of September the same year it was of the third magni¬
tude. Mr Pigot deduced its period from its apparent
equality with a small star in the neighbourhood, and
thence found it to be 320, 328, and 337 days.
I he most remarkable of these changeable stars is
that called Algol, in the head of Medusa. It had long
been known to be variable ; but its period was first
ascertained by Mr Goodricke of York, who began to
observe it in the beginning of 1783. It changes con¬
tinually from the first to the fourth magnitude j and
the time taken up from its greatest diminution to its
least is found, at a mean, to be 2 d. 20 h. 49 m. and
3 sec. During four hours it gradually diminishes in
lustre, which it recovers during the succeeding four
hours \ and in the remaining part of the period it in¬
variably preserves its greatest lustre, and after the ex¬
piration of the term its diminution again commences.
According to Mr Pigot, the degree of brightness of
this star when at its minimum is variable in different
periods, and he is of the same opinion with regard to
its brightness when at its Fill; but whether these dif¬
ferences return regularly or not, has not been deter¬
mined.
The 420th of Mayer’s catalogue, in Leo, has lately
been shown to be variable by Mr Koch. Some years
Part I]
of the
Heavenl
Bodies.
r
i
N O M Y.
before 1782, that gentleman perceived it undoubtedly Apparent L
smaller than the 419th of the same catalogue. In Fe- Motions
bruary that year, it was of the same brightness with
the 419th, that is, of the seventh magnitude. In
April 17831 it was of the ninth magnitude j and in
the same month 1784, it was of the tenth. Mr Pigot
could never observe this star, though he frequently
looked for it with a night-glass, and on the fifth of
April 1785 with a three feet achromatic transit instru¬
ment.
In 1704, Maraldi observed a variable star in Hydra, Variable
whose period he settled at about two years, though star in Hy
with considerable variations : but from the observationsdra’
even of Maraldi, Mr Pigot concludes, that its period
was then only 494 days 5 and from some others made
by himself, he thinks that now it is only 487 days j so
that since the time of Maraldi it has shortened seven
days. The particulars relating to this star are as fol¬
low. 1. When at its full brightness it is of the fourth
magnitude, and does not perceptibly change for a fort¬
night. 2. It is about six months in increasing from
the tenth magnitude and returning to the same : so
that it may be considered as invisible during that time.
3. It is considerably more quick, perhaps one half
more so, in its increase than in its decrease. 4. Though
when at its full it may always be styled a star of the
fourth magnitude, it does not constantly attain the
same degree of brightness, but the differences are very
small. rl his star is the 30th of Hydra in Hevelius’s
catalogue, and is marked by him of the sixth magni¬
tude.
The new star in Serpentarius, observed by Kepler,
seems to have been of the same nature with that of
Cassiopeia ; and Mr Pigot therefore looks upon it also
to be a periodical one, though, after taking a plan of
the nearest stars in that part of the heavens, in the year
1782, he could, in lour years time, perceive no altera-
tion.
1 he variation of the star /3 Lyras was discovered by Swan’*
Mr Goodricke above-mentioned, who suspects its pe-Head.
nod to be six days nine hours} which coincides with
the opinion of Mr Pigot.
The new star near the Swan’s Head, observed by
Don An th el me in December 1669, soon became of the
third magnitude, and disappeared in 1672. Mr Pigot
has constantly looked for it since November 1781, but
without success. He is of opinion, that had it only in¬
creased to the 10th or nth magnitude, he would have
seen it, having taken a plan of all the neighbouring
small stars.
The next variable star in IMr Pigot’s catalogue is
the jj Antinoi, whose variation and period he disco¬
vered in 1785. From his corrected observations, he
concludes that it continues at its greatest brightness
40 hours without decreasing; it is 66 hours after it
begins to decrease before it comes to its full diminu¬
tion ; alter which it continues stationary for 30 hours
more, and then increases for 36 hours. In every pe¬
riod it seems to acquire its full brightness, and to be
equally decreased.
I he variable star in the Swan’s Neck was observed Swan’s
for three years. The period of this star had been Neck,
settled hy Maraldi and Cassini at 405, and by M. le
Gentil at 405.3 days ; but from a mean of the ob¬
servations of Mr Pigot, it appears to be only 392.
“ Perhaps
y-g-pg f
'U1 art II.
ASTRONOMY.
Ipparent
lotions
of the
°5
able!
in Hj.
20S
an’s
east.
“ Perhaps (says he) its period is irregular; to deter¬
mine which several intervals of 15 years ought to be
taken ; and I am much inclined to believe that it will
Jodies y f°und only 396 days 21 hours.” The particulars
relating to this star are, 1. When at its full bright¬
ness it undergoes no perceptible change for a fortnight.
2. It is about three months and a half in increasing
from the nth magnitude to its full brightness, and
the same in decreasing ; for which reason it may be
considered as invisible during six months. 3. It does
not always attain the same degree of lustre, being some¬
times of the fifth and sometimes of the seventh mag¬
nitude.
In 1600, G. Jansonius discovered a variable star in
the breast of the Swan, which was afterwards observed
by different astronomers, and supposed to have a period
of about 10 years. The results of Mr Pigot’s calcu¬
lations from the observations of former astronomers
are, 1. That it continues in full lustre for five years.
2. It decreases rapidly for two years. 3. It is invisible
to the naked eye for four years. 4. It increases slowly
during seven years. All these changes are com¬
pleted in 18 years. 6. It was at its minimum at the
end of the year 1663. 7. It does not always increase
to the same degree of brightness, being sometimes of
the third, and at others only of the sixth, magnitude.
“ I am entirely ignorant (says Mr Pigot) whether it is
subject to the same changes in this century, having not
met with any series of observations on it; but if the
above conjectures are right, it will be at its minimum in
a very few years. Since November 1781 I have con¬
stantly seen it of the sixth magnitude. Sometimes I
have suspected that it has decreased within these two last
years, though in a very small degree.”
The last star in Mr Pigot’s first class is the 5 Cephei,
whose variation was discovered by Mr Goodricke. Its
changes are very difficult to be seen, unless it is observed
at the times of its greatest and least brightness. The re¬
sult of the observations hitherto made upon it are, that
its period consists of 5 days 8 hours 37'on a mean. The
following observations relate to some stars of the second
1 °P
itus, va-
ifi-m of
vltii is
e»eer-
taiii
class.
x. Hevelius’s 6th Cassiopeiae was missing in 1782,
nor could Mr Pigot find it in 1783 and 1784.
2. | or 46 Andromedae, said to be variable, but the
evidence is not convincing to Mr Pigot.
3. Flamstead’s 50, 52, rAndromedge, and Hevelius’s
41 Andromedae. The position and characters of these
stars differ considerably in different catalogues, and some
of them are said by Cassini to have disappeared and re¬
appeared. Mr Pigot therefore gives their comparative
brightness as observed in the years 1783, 1784, and
1785, during which time he does not mention any par¬
ticular change.
4. Tycho’s 20th Ceti. “ This (says Mr Pigot) must
be the star which Hevelius said had disappeared, being
Tycho’s second in the Whale’s Belly. There can hard¬
ly be any doubt that it is the misplaced by Tycho.
This £ is of the fourth or fifth magnitude.
5. cr, or the 17th Eridani of Ptolemy and Ulug
Beigh. Flamstead says he could not see this star in
1691 and 1692; but in 1782, 1783, and 1784, Mr
Pigot observed in that place one of the seventh magni¬
tude, which appeared always of the same lustre.
6. Flamstead’s 41 Tauri was supposed by Cassini to
be either a new or variable star j but Mr Pigot thinks
there is no reason to he of that opinion. “ That it is
not new (says he) is evident, since it is Ulug Beigh’s
26th and Tycho’s 43d.
7. A star about 2i° north of 53 Eridani, and 47 Eri¬
dani. Cassini supposed the first of these stars to be a
new one, and that it was not visible in 1664. He
mentions another star thereabouts, which he also
esteemed a new one.
8. y Canis Majoris. Maraldi could not see this star
in 1670 j but in 1692 and 1693 it appeared of the
fourth magnitude. Mr Pigot made frequent observa¬
tions upon it from 1782 to 1786, but could perceive no
variation.
9. « /3 Geminorum. “ If any of these stars (says
our author) have changed in brightness, it is probably
the (J. _ In 1783, 1784, and 1785, the 0 was undoubt¬
edly brighter than
10. | Leonis. According to Montanan', this star
was hardly visible in 1693. In 1783, 1784, and 1785,
it was of the fifth magnitude. By Tycho, Flamstead,
Mayer, Bradley, &c. it is marked of the fourth.
11. Eeonis. This star is said to have disappeared
before the year 1667 ; but according to Mr Pigot’s
observations, was constantly of the fifth or sixth magni¬
tude since 1783.
12. 25th Eeonis. In 17^3? 0ur author first per¬
ceived that this star was missing, and could not per¬
ceive it in 1784 aa^ eveQ with a transit instru¬
ment.
13. Bayer’s * Leonis, or Tycho’s 16 Leonis was
not visible in 1709, nor could it be seen in .1785. It
is a different star from the i Leonis of the other cata¬
logues, though Tycho’s description of its place is the
same.
14. S Ursae Majoris. This star is suspected to
change in brightness, on account of its being marked
by Tycho, the prince of Hesse, &c. of the second
magnitude, while Hevelius, Bradley, and others, have
marked it of the third. In 1786, and for three years
before, it appeared as a bright star of the fourth magni¬
tude.
15. «i Virginis. This is supposed to be variable, be¬
cause Flamstead, on the 2 7th of January 1680, could
not see it $ but he observed it in 1677, and some years
afterwards. Mr Pigot observed it frequently in 1784
and 1785, and found it a star of the sixth magnitude
without any perceptible change.
16. Bayer’s star of the sixth magnitude i° south ofg
Virginis. “ This star (says Mr Pigot) is not in any
of the nine catalogues that I have. Maraldi looked
for it in vain j and in May 1785 I could not see the
least appearance of it.” It certainly was not of the
eighth magnitude.
17. A star in the northern thigh of Virgo, marked
by Ricciolus of the sixth magnitude, could not be seen
by Maraldi in 1709J nor was it of the ninth magni¬
tude, if at all visible in 1785.
18. The 91 and 92 Virginis. In 1685, one of
these stars, probably the 91, was missing: the remain¬
ing one is of the sixth or seventh magnitude.
19. « Draconis. Mr Pigot coincides in opinion with
Dr Herschel, that this star is variable. Bradley, Flam¬
stead, &c. mark it of the second magnitude, but in
1786 it was only a bright fourth. It was, frequently
examined
69
Apparent
M otions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
7°
ASTRONOMY.
Part m
Apparent examined by Mr Pigot from the fourth of October 1782,
Motions but without any alteration being perceived.
Heay16 ] 20’ ^ayer’s star the west scale of Libra. Ma-
Bodies/ ra^‘ could not see this star, and it was likewise invisible
—Y—j to Mr Pigot in 1784 and 1785.
21. N° 6 of Ptolemy, and Ulug Beigh’s unformed in
Libra. This star is not mentioned in any other cata¬
logues than the above. Mr Pigot frequently observed
a little star of the seventh magnitude very near its
place
22 k Librae. This star is thought to be variable,
but Mr Pigot is not of that opinion, though “ certainly
(says he) it is rather singular, that Hevelius, whose at¬
tention was directed to that part of the heavens to find
Tycho’s nth, did not find the * $ and the more so, as
he has noticed two much smaller stars not far from it.
During these three years I have found the * constantly
of the fifth magnitude.”
23. Tycho’s nth Librae. Mr Pigot is of opinion
that no such star as this ever existed ; and that it is no
other than the * with an error of 2 degrees of longi¬
tude.
24. 33 Serpentis. This star was missing in 1784J
nor could it be perceived with a night-glass in 1785.
25. A star marked by Bayer near s Ursae majoris.
Phis star could not be seen by Cassini ; nor was Mr
Pigot able to discover it with a night-glass in 1782.
26. I he g, or Ptolemy and Ulug Beigh’s 14th Ophi-
uchi, or Flamstead’s 36th. Mr Pigot has no doubt
tiiat this is the star which is said to have disappeared
before the year 1695 ; and it is evident that it was not
seen by Hevelius. In 1784 and 1785 Mr Pigot found
it of the lourth or fifth magnitude 5 but he is far from
being certain of its having undergone any change, espe¬
cially as it has a southern declination of 26 degrees 5
for which reason great attention must be paid to the
state of the atmosphere.
27. Ptolemy’s 13th and 18th Ophiuchi, fourth mag*
nitude. Mr Pigot is of opinion that these stars are
misplaced in the catalogues. The 18th of Ptolemy
he thinks ought to be marked with a north latitude
instead of a south, which would make it agree nearly
with Ilamstead’s 58th j and he is also of opinion that
the 13th of Ptolemy is the 40th of Flamstead.
28. <r Sagittarii. Dr Herschel, as well as Mr Pigot,
is of opinion, that this star has probably changed its
magnitude, though the reason seems only to be the
great disagreement concerning it among the different
catalogues of stars.
29. 9 Serpentis. This star, according to Mr Mon-
tanari, is of variable magnitude ; but Mr Pigot never
could perceive any alteration.
30. Tycho’s 27th Capricorni was missing in Heve-
lius’s time, and Mr Pigot could not find it with a transit
instrument.
31. Tycho’s 22d Andromedse, and 0 Andromedee.
Mr Cassini informs us, that in his time the former had
grown so small that it could scarcely be seen ; and Mr
Pigot, that no star was to be seen in its place in 1784
and 1785 : but he is of opinion that Cassini may have
mistaken the 0 Andromedse for the 22d *, for which rea¬
son he observed this star three years, but without any
alteration in its brightness.
32. lycho’s 19th Aquarii. Hevelius says that this
star was missing, and that Flamstead could not see it
3
with his naked eye in 1679. could not see Appare:U
it in 1782 ; but is persuaded that it is the same with Motioi r1
Flamstead’s 56th, marked fby Bayer, from which it of Li
is only a degree and a half distant. The 53d of
Flamstead, markedjfin Ptolemy’s catalogue, is a dif-. |
ferent star.
33. La Caille’s 483 Aquarii was first discovered to
be missing in 1778, and was not visible in 1783 and
1784. _
Besides these there are several others certainly vari*
able, but which cannot be seen in this country. There
are some also suspected to be variable, but for which
Mr Pigot thinks there is no reason. Dr Herschel also
gives strong reasons for not laying great stress on all
the observations by which new stars have been said to
be discovered. Mr Pigot assures us from repeated ex¬
perience, that even more than a single observation, if
not particularised and compared with neighbouring
stars, is very little to be depended upon 5 different
streaks of the clouds, the state of the weather, &c. ha¬
ving often caused him to err a whole magnitude in the
brightness of a star. aio
As these changes to which the fixed stars are liable Wollastc
do not seem to be subject to any certain rule, Mr Wol- m.ethod 1
laston has given an easy method of observing whether
they do take place in any part of the heavens or not, amon<r tl
and that without much expence of instruments or waste fixed stai
of time, which are great objections to astronomical ob¬
servations in general. His first idea was, that the
work should be undertaken by astronomers in general $
each taking a particular district of the heavens, and
from time to time observing the right ascension and 1
declination of every star in that space allotted to him,
framing an exact map of it, and communicating their
observations to one common place of information. 
This method, however, being too laborious, he next
proposes the noting down at the time, or making a
drawing of what one sees while they are observing. A
drawing of this kind once made, would remain, and
could be consulted on any future occasion ; and if done
at first with care, a transient review would discover
whether any sensible change had taken place since it
was last examined, which could not so well be done by
catalogues or verbal description. For this purpose he
recommends the following method : “ To a night glass, ' jj
but of Dollond’s construction, which magnifies about
six times, and takes in about as many degrees of a
great circle, I have added cross wires intersecting one
another at an angle of 45 degrees. More wires may
be crossed in other directions ; but I apprehend these
will be sufficient. This telescope I mount on a polar
axis. One coarsely made, and without any divisions
on its circle of declination, will answer the purpose, as
there is no great occasion for accuracy in that respect j
but as the heavenly bodies are more readily followed
by an equatorial motion of the telescope, so their rela¬
tive positions are much more easily discerned when they
are looked at constantly as in the same direction. A
horizontal motion, except in the meridian, would be
apt to mislead the judgment. It is scarcely necessary
to add, that the wires must stand so as for one to de- m
scribe a parallel of the equator nearly j another will '
then be a horary circle, and the whole area will be fp
divided into eight equal sectors.
“ Thus prepared, the telescope is to be pointed to a
known
irtlkrt IT.
ASTRO
ppart jparent
Totio lotions
oftlj t>f tlie
[fa,t l:aveuly
liodj ;odie&
" '<^V
t it
MWxy, or
‘"uilfr-way.
known star, which is to be brought into the centre or
common intersection of all the wires. The relative
positions of such other stars as appear within the field
are to be judged of by the eye ; whether at 4, or 4,
-» from the centre towards the circumference, or vice
versa; and so with regard to the nearest wire respec¬
tively. These, as one sees them, are to be noted down
with a black-lead pencil upon a large message-card held
in the hand, upon which a circle similarly divided is
ready drawn. One of thi’ee inches diameter seems most
convenient. The motion of the heavenly bodies in
such a telescope is so slow, and the noting down of the
stars so quickly done, that there is commonly full time
for it without moving the telescope. When that is
wanted, the principal star is easily brought back again
into the centre of the field at pleasure, and the work
resumed. After a little practice, it is astonishing
how near one can come to the truth in this way : and
though neither the right ascensions nor the declinations
are laid down by it, nor the distances between the
stars measured ; yet their apparent situations being pre¬
served in black and white, with the day and year, and
hour, if thought necessary, written underneath, each
card then becomes a register of the then appearance of
the heavens ; which is easily re-examined at any time
with little more than a transient view j and which will
yet show, on the first glance, if there should have hap¬
pened in it any alteration of consequence.”
Fig. 80. shows part of the Corona Borealis delineated
in this manner, and which was afterwards fully taken
down by making the stars y, e, £, *, g, o-,
and t, successively central; and these were joined with
some of the stars of Bootes, for the sake of connecting
the whole, and united into one map, as represented in
fig. 8r.
In observing in this way, it is evident, that the
places of such stars as happen to be under or very near
any of the wires, are more to be depended upon than
those which are in the intermediate spaces, especially if
towards the edges of the fields j so also those which are
nearest to the centre, because better defined, and more
within the reach of one wire or another. For this rea¬
son, different stars of the same set must successively be
made central, or brought towards one of the wires,
where any suspicion arises of a mistake, in order to an-
proach nearer to a certainty; but if the stand of the
telescope be tolerably well adjusted and fixed, this is
soon done.
In such a glass it is seldom that light sufficient for
discerning the wires is wanting. When an illuminator
is required, a piece of card or white pasteboard pro¬
jecting on one side beyond the tube, and which may be
brought forward occasionally, is better than any other.
By cutting across a small segment of the object-glass,
it throws a sufficient light down the tube though the
candle be at a great distance, and one may lose sight of
the false glare by drawing back the head, and moving
the eye a little to one side, when the small stars will be
seen as if no illuminator was there. See a delineation
of the principal fixed stars, with the apparent path of
the sun among them, in figures 82 and 83.
A very remarkable appearance in the heavens is that
called the galaxy, or milky-way. This is a broad circle,
sometimes double, but for the most part single, surround-
71
N O M Y.
ing the whole celestial concave. We perceive also in Apparent
different parts of the heavens small white spots, which Motions
appear to be of the same nature with the milky-way. 01
T-hese spots are called nebulae. Heavenly
We shall subjoin in this place, for the entertainment >
of the reader, the theories of Mr Michell and Dr Her-
schel, concerning the nature and position of the fixed stars.
“ J he very great number of stars (says Mr Mi-
chell) that have been discovered to be double, triple, chelt’s con-
&c. particularly by Mr Herschel, if we apply the doc-jectares
trine of chances, as I have heretofore done in my in_ conceri'ing
quiry into the probable parallax, &c. of the fixed stars, ^et?atfureI
published in the Philosophical Transactions for the year stars.6 ' ^
1767, cannot leave a doubt with any one who is pro¬
perly acquainted with the force of those arguments,
that by far the greatest part, if not all of them, are
systems of stars so near each other, as probably to be
liable to be affected sensibly by their mutual gravita¬
tion ; and it is therefore not unlikely, that the periods
ol the revolutions ot some of these about their princi¬
pals (tlie smaller ones being, upon this hypothesis, to
be considered as satellites to the other) may some time
or other be discovered.” Having then shown in what
manner the magnitude of a fixed star, if its density
were known, would affect the velocity of its light, he
concludes at last, that “ if the semidiameter of a sphere jn whit
of the same density with the sun were to exceed his in cases light
the proportion of 500 to I, a body falling from an in- may be
finite height towards it (or moving in a parabolic supPose<* to
curve at its surface) would have acquired a greater ve-^bod^
locity than that of light; and consequently, supposing that emits
light to be attracted by the same force in proportion it-
to its vis inertice with other bodies, all light emitted
from such a body would be made to return towards it
by its own proper gravity. But if the semidiameter
of a sphere, of the same density with the sun, was of
any other size less than 497 times that of the sun,
though the velocity of light emitted by such a body
would never be wholly destroyed, yet it would always
suffer some diminution, more or less according to the
magnitude of the sphere. The same effects would like¬
wise take place if the semidiameters were different from
those already mentioned, provided the density was great¬
er or less in the duplicate ratio of these semidiameters
inversely.
After proceeding jn his calculations, in order to find Compara-
the diameter and distance of any star, he proceeds live bright-
thus : “ According to Mr Bouguer the brightness ofness of the
the sun exceeds that of a wax-candle in no less a pro-pUQ ,all<1
portion than that of 8000 to 1. If therefore the ed stars*
brightness of any of the fixed stars should not exceed
that of our common candles, which, as being some¬
thing less luminous than wax, we will suppose in round
numbers to be only one ten thousandth part as bright
as the sun, such a star would not be visible at more
than one hundredth part of the distance at which it
would be seen if it were as bright as the sun. Now,
because the sun would still, I apprehend, appear as
bright and luminous as the star Sirius, if removed to
400,000 times his pr-esent distance, such a body, if no
brighter than our common candles, would only appear
equally luminous with that star at 4000 times the di¬
stance of the sun ; and we might then be able, with
the best telescopes, to distinguish some sensible ap¬
parent
73
A S T Pt
Apparent parent diameter of it : but the apparent diameters
Motions of the stars of lesser magnitudes would still be too
of the small to be distinguishable even with our best telescopes,
■ un^ess they were yet a good deal less luminous •, which
- - - —" - may possibly, however, be the case with some of them :
for though we have indeed very slight grounds to go
upon with regard to the specific brightness of the fixed
stars, compared with that of the sun at present, and
can therefore form only very uncertain and random
conjectures concerning it; yet from the infinite variety
which we find in the works of the creation, it is not
unreasonable to suspect, that very possibly some of the
fixed stars may have so little natural brightness in pro¬
portion to their magnitude, as to admit of their dia¬
meters having some sensible apparent size when they
shall come to be more carefully examined, and with
larger and better telescopes than have been hitherto in
common use.
With respect to the sun, we know that his whole
VS
Xmninous
appearance surface extremely luminous, a very small and tern-
su ^ Porary interruption sometimes, from a few spots, ex-
'' ‘ cepted. This universal and excessive brightness of the
proceed
from an at- whole surface is probably owing to an atmosphere,
mosphere. which being luminous throughout,- and in some mea¬
sure also transparent, the light proceeding from a con¬
siderable depth of it, all arrives at the eye, in the same
manner as the light of a great number of candles
would do if they were placed one behind another, and
their flames were sufficiently transparent to permit the
light of the more distant ones to pass through those that
were nearer without interruption.
“ How far the same constitution may take place in
the fixed stars we do not know: probably, however, it
may still do so in many ; but there are some appear¬
ances, with regard to a few of them, which seem to
make it probable that it does not do so universally.
Now, if I am right in supposing the light of the sun
to proceed from a luminous atmosphere which must
necessarily diffuse itself equally over the whole surface,
and I think there can be very little doubt that this is
really the case, this constitution cannot well take place
in those stars which are in some degree periodically
216 more and less luminous, such as that in Collo Ceti,
Of the va- &c. It is also not very improbable, that there is some
liable stars, difference from that of the sun in the constitution of
those stars which have sometimes appeared and disap¬
peared, of which that in the constellation of Cassiopeia
is a notable instance. And if these conjectures are
well founded which have been formed by some philoso¬
phers concerning stars of this kind, that they are
not wholly luminous, or at least not constantly so,
but that all, or by far the greatest part of their sur¬
faces, is subject to considerable changes, sometimes
becoming luminous, at other times extinguished; it is
amongst stars of this sort that we are most likely to
meet with instances of a sensible apparent diameter,
their light being much more likely not to be so great
in proportion as that of the sun, which if removed to
217
0 N 0 M Y. Part |
400,000 times his present distance, would still appear, Appar
I apprehend, as bright as Sirius, as I have observed MotiJ
above ; whereas it is hardly to be expected, with any
telescope whatsoever’, that we should ever be able to di¬
stinguish a well-defined disk of any body of the same
size with the sun at much more than 10,000 times his
present distance.
“ Hence the greatest distance at which it would be
possible to distinguish any sensible apparent diameter of
a body as dense as the sun, cannot well greatly exceed
five hundred times ten thousand ; that is, five million
times the distance of the sun ; for if the diameter of
such a body was not less than 500 times that of the sun,
its light, as has been shown above, could never arrive
at us.”
Dr Herschel, improving on Mr Michell’s idea ofDrHerJ
the fixed stars being collected into groups, and as- -hel’st;
sisted by his own observations with the extraordinary moII.coi*-'
telescopic powers already mentioned, has suggested a^on^trol
theory concerning the construction of the universe en-tionofi
tirely new and singular. It had been the opinion of universt
former astronomers, that our sun, besides occupying
the centre of the system which properly belongs to
him, occupied also the centre of the universe : but
Dr Herschel is of a very different opinion. “ Hither¬
to (says he) the sidereal heavens have, not inadequate¬
ly for the purpose designed, been represented by the
concave surface of a sphere, in the centre of which the
eye of the observer might be supposed to be placed.
It is true, the various magnitudes of the fixed stars
even then plainly suggested to us, and would have bet¬
ter suited, the idea of an expanded firmament of three
dimensions ; but the observations upon which I am now
going to enter, still farther illustrate and enforce the ne¬
cessity of considering the heavens in this point of view.
In future therefore we shall look upon those regions in¬
to which we may now penetrate by means of such large
telescopes (a), as a naturalist regards a rich extent of
ground or chain of mountains containing strata various¬
ly inclined and directed, as well as consisting of very
different materials. A surface of a globe or map there¬
fore will but ill delineate the interior parts of the hea¬
vens.”
With the powerful telescope mentioned in the note, His obse
Dr Herschel first began to survey the Via Lactea, and vaiionsc
found that it completely resolved the whitish appear- V'a
ance into stars, which the telescopes he formerly used ctead
had not light enough to do. The portion he first ob¬
served was that about the hand and club of Orion; and
found therein an astonishing multitude of stars, whose
number he endeavoured to estimate by counting many
fields (b), and computing from a mean of these how
many might be contained in a given portion of the
milky-way. In the most vacant place to be met with
in that neighbourhood he found 63 stars ; other six
fields contained no, 60, 70, 90, 70, and 74 stars; a
mean of all which gave 79 for the number of stars to
each field; and thus he found, that by allowing 15
minutes
I! i.
218
!«
Jth
*1 iih'.u
f fears
1
Ktl,
(a) Dr Herschel’s observations, on which this theory is founded, were made with a Newtonian reflector of 20
feet focal length, and an aperture of 18 inches.
(b) By this word we are to understand the apparent space in the heavens he could see at once through his te¬
lescope.
art
irt II.
ASTRONOMY.
iparent minutes for the diameter of his field of view, a belt of
lotions .15 degrees long and two broad, which lie had often
of the seen pass before his telescope in an hour’s time, could
todies^ not conta'n ^ess ^lan 50>°30 stars, large enough to be
distinctly numbered ; besides which, he suspected twice
as many more, which could be seen only now and then
by faint glimpses for want of sufficient light.
the9 The success he had within the milky-way soon indu-
jl®. ced him to turn his telescope to the nebulous parts of
the heavens, of which an accurate list had been publish¬
ed in the Connoisance des Temps for 1783 and 1784.
Most of these yielded to a Newtonian reflector of 20
feet focal distance and 12 inches aperture j which plain¬
ly discovered them to be composed of stars, or at least
to contain stars, and to show every other indication of
y are consisting of them entirely. “ The nebulae (says he)
aged are arranged into strata, and run on to a great length 5
•trata. and some of them I have been able to pursue, and to
guess pretty well at their form and direction. It is
probable enough that they may surround the whole
starry sphere of the heavens, not unlike the milky-way,
which undoubtedly is nothing but a stratum of fixed
stars : And as this latter immense starry bed is not of
equal breadth or lustre in every part, nor runs on in
one straight direction, but is curved, and even divided
into tw’o streams along a very considerable portion of
it j we may likewise expect the greatest variety in the
strata of the clusters of stars and nebulae. One of these
nebulous beds is so rich, that, in passing through a
|t?I- section of it in the time of only 36 minutes, I have
itiiety of detected no less than 31 nebulae, all distinctly visible
fines as- upon a fine blue sky. Their situation and shape, as
well as condition, seem to denote the greatest variety
imaginable. In another stratum, or perhaps a differ¬
ent branch of the former, I have often seen double and
treble nebulae variously arranged ; large ones with small
seeming attendants ; narrow, but much extended lucid
nebula; or bright dashes ; some of the shape of a fan,
resembling an electric brush issuing from a lucid point 5
others of the cometic shape, with a seeming nucleus in
the centre, or like cloudy stars, surrounded with a ne¬
bulous atmosphere : a different sort again contain a ne¬
bulosity of the milky kind, like that wouderful inex¬
plicable phenomenon about 4 Orionis ; while others
shine with a fainter mottled kind of light, which de¬
notes their being resolvable into stars.
“ It is very probable that the great stratum called
the milky-ivay, is that in which the sun is placed, though
perhaps not in the very centre of its thickness. We
gather this from the appearance of tire galaxy, which
seems to encompass the whole heavens, as it certainly
must do if the sun is within the same. For suppose
a number of stars arranged between two parallel planes,
indefinitely extended every way, but at a given consi¬
derable distance from one another, and calling this a
sidereal stratum, an eye placed somewhere within it
will see all the stars in the direction of the planes of
the stratum projected into a great circle, which will
appear lucid on account of the accumulation of the
stars, while the rest of the heavens at the sides will on¬
ly seem to be scattered over with constellations, more or
less crowded according to the distance of the planes or
number of stars contained in the thickness or sides of
the stratum.
Vol. III. Part I. +
73
;uied by
hi'i,
'-JL122
w the
aii y-way
spftars to
r.B)Hund
‘iwuea-
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
223
“ Thus in fig. 83. an eye at S within the stratum a b,
will see the stars in the direction of its length a b, or
height ed> with all those in the intermediate situation,
projected into the lucid circle ABCD 5 while those in
the sides m c, n w, will be seen scattered over the re¬
maining part of the heavens at MVNW.
“ If the eye were placed somewhere without the stra-Celestial
turn, at no very great distance, the appearance of the stars
within it would assume the form of one of the lesserVt
circles of the sphere, which would be more or less con-Hersehel’s
tracted to the distance of the eye j and if (his distance hypothesis,
were exceedingly increased, the whole stratum might at
last be drawn together into a lucid spot of any shape, ac¬
cording to the position, length, and height of the stratum.
“ Let us now suppose, that a branch or smaller stra¬
tum should run out from the former in a certain direc¬
tion, and let it also be contained between two parallel
planes extended indefinitely onwards, but so that the
eye may be placed in the great stratum somewhere be¬
fore the separation, and not far from the place where
the strata are still united j then will this second stratum
not be projected into a bright circle like the former,
but will be seen as a lucid branch proceeding from the
first, and returning to it again at a certain distance less
than a semicircle. Thus, in the same figure, the stars
in the small stratum 7?g will be projected into a bright
arch at TRRP, which after its separation from the
circle CBD, unites with it again at P.
“ What has been instanced in parallel planes may
easily be applied to strata irregularly bounded, and run¬
ning in various directions; for their projection will of
consequence vary according to the quantities of the va¬
riations in the strata and the distance of the eye from
the same. And thus any kind of curvatures, as well as
various degrees of brightness, may be produced in the
projections. 2,4
“ From appearances, then, as I observed before, we Of the sun’#
may infer, that the sun is most likely placed in one 0fPlacein tl:ic
the great strata of the fixed stars, and very probably univers®‘
not far from the place where some smaller stratum
branches out from it. Such a supposition will satis-
factorily, and with great simplicity, account for all the
phenomena of the milky-way j which according to
this hypothesis, is no other than the appearance of the
projection of the stars contained in this stratum and its
secondary branch. As a farther inducement to look
on the galaxy in this point of view, let it be consider¬
ed, that we can no longer doubt of its whitish appear¬
ance arising from the mixed lustre of the numberless
stars that compose it. Now, should we suppose it to
be an irregular ring of stars, in the centre nearly of
which we must then suppose the sun to be placed, it
will appear not a little extraordinary, that the sun,
being a fixed star, like those which compose this ima¬
gined ring, should just be in the centre of such a mul¬
titude of celestial bodies, without any apparent reason
for this singular distinction; whereas, on our supposition,
every star in this stratum, not very near the termination
of its length or height, will be so placed as also to have
its own galaxy, with only such variations in the form
and lustre of it as may arise from the particular situa¬
tion of each star. *25
“ Various methods may be taken to come to a^ethocTo*
knowledge of the sun’s place in the sidereal stratum, ™aeu^ng the
K one heaven*.
7+
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent one of wliicli I Iiave already begun to put in practice :
I call it gauging the heavens; or the star-s;auge. It
Heavenly cons’sts !n repeatedly taking tbe number of stars in ten
Bodies, fields or view of my reflector very near each other; and
w—-v~—by adding their sums, and cutting off one decimal on
Part
sidereal
stratum.
tiie right, a mean of tbe contents of tbe heavens in all
tbe parts which are thus gauged are obtained. Thus
it appears that the number of stars increases very much
as we approach the milky-way ; for in the parallel from
92 to 94 degrees north polar distance, and right ascen¬
sion 15 h. TO', the star-gauge runs up from 9.4 stars in
tbe field to 18.6 in about an hour and a half; whereas
in the parallel from 78 to 80 degrees north polar dis¬
tance, and R. A. 11, 12, 13, and 14 hours, it very
seldom rises above 4. We are, however, to remember,
that, with different instruments, the account of the
gauges will be very different, especially on our supposi¬
tion of the sun in a stratum of stars. For let a b fig. 84.
be the stratum, and suppose the small circle g h l k lo
represent the space into which, by the light and power
oi a given telescope, we are enabled to penetrate, and
let GHLK be the extent of another portion which we
are enabled to visit by means of a larger aperture and
power, it is evident, that the gauges with the latter in¬
strument will differ very much in their account of stars
contained at MN and at KG or LH, when with the
former they will hardly be affected with the change from
zzS m n to kg or Ik.
findVie sltuat*on ffi® sun in tbe sidereal stratum
place ofthewIU be found considering in what manner the star-
sun in the £aufte agrees with the length of a ray revolving in se¬
veral directions about an assumed point, and cut off by
the bounds of the stratum. Thus, in fig. 85. let S
be the place of an observer: Srrr, Srrr, lines in the
plane r S r, r S r, drawn from S within the stratum to
one of the boundaries here represented by the plane AB.
Then, since neither the situation of S nor the form of
the limiting surface AB is known, we are to assume a
point, and apply to it lines proportional to the several
gauges that have been obtained, and at such angles from
each other as they may point out: then will the termi¬
nation of these lines delineate the boundary of the stra¬
tum, and consequently manifest the situation of the sun
within the same.
“ In my late observations on nebulae, I soon found,
that I generally detected them in certain directions ra¬
ther than in others: that the spaces preceding them
were generally quite deprived of their stars, so as often
to afford many fields without a single star in it: that
the nebulae generally appeared some time after among
stars of a certain considerable size, and but seldom
among very small stars : that when I came to one ne-
btila, I generally found several more in the neighbour¬
hood : that afterwards a considerable time passed before
I came to another parcel. These events being often
repeated in different altitudes of my instrument, and
some of them at considerable distances from each other,
it occurred to me that the intermediate spaces between
the sweeps might also contain nebulae; and finding
this to hold good more than once, I ventured to give
notice to my assistant at the clock, that I ‘ found my¬
self on nebulous ground.’ But how far these circum¬
stances of vacant places preceding and following the
nebulous strata, and their being as it were contained in
a bed of stars sparingly scattered between them, may
227
Observa
lions on
nebulas.
hold good in more distant portions of the heavens, and ApparJ
which I have not been yet able to visit in any regular Motior
manner, I ought by no means to hazard a conjecture. thf
I may venture, however, to add a few particulars about *ieavH |3je:
the direction of some of the capital strata or their U(lei “
branches. The well-known nebula of Cancer, visible
228
to the naked eye, is probably one belonging to a cer- Directioi
iJ?>
JI31
! lute*
ufora
tain stratum, in which I suppose it to be so placed as to0fsoine
lie nearest to us. This stratum I shall call that oftil?I*jf3 ^
Cancer. It runs from t Cancri towards the south, over
the 67th nebula of the Connoissance des Temps, which
is a very beautiful and pretty much compressed cluster
of stars, easily to be seen by any good telescope; and
in which I have observed above 200 stars at once in
the field of view of my great reflector with a power of
157. This cluster appearing so plainly with any good
common telescope, and being so near to the one which
may be seen with the naked eye, denotes it to be pro¬
bably the next in distance to that within the quartile
formed by y, »i, 0. From the 67th nebula the stratum
of Cancer proceeds towards the head of Hydra ; but I
have not yet had time to trace it farther than the equa¬
tor.
“ Another stratum, which perhaps approaches nearer
to the solar system than any of the rest, and whose situ¬
ation is nearly at rectangles with the great sidereal
stratum in which the sun is placed, is that of Coma
Berenices, as I shall call it. I suppose the Coma it¬
self to be one of the clusters in it, and that on account
of its nearness it appears to be so scattered. It has
many capital nebulae very near it: and in all probability
this stratum runs out a very considerable way. It may
perhaps even make the circuit of the heavens, though
very likely not in one of the great circles of the sphere ;
for unless it should chance to intersect the great sidereal
stratum of the milky-way before mentioned, in the very
place in which the sun is stationed, such an appearance
would hardly be produced. However, if the stratum
of Coma Berenices should extend so far as I apprehend
it may, the direction of it towards the north lies pro¬
bably, with some windings, through the Great Bear
onwards to Cassiopeia, thence through the girdle of
Andromeda and the Northern Fish, proceeding towards
Cetus; while towards the south it passes through the
Virgin, probably on to the tail of Hydra and Centan-
rus.”
By a continued series of observations, Hr Herschel
became confirmed in his notions ; and in a succeeding
paper * has given a sketch of his opinions concerning* Phil,
the interior construction of the heavens. “ That the Tram.
milky-way (says he) is a most extensive stratum ofTOfi*xxr'
stars of various sizes, admits no longer of the Ifast Qf
doubt; and that our sun is one of the heavenly bodies terior co*
belonging to it is as evident. I have now viewed and struction
gauged this shining zone in almost every direction, andthe liea‘
find it composed of shining stars, whose number, byvens‘
the account of those gauges, constantly increases and
decreases in proportion to its apparent brightness to
the naked eye. But in order to develope the ideas of
the universe that have been suggested by my late ob¬
servations, it will be best to take the subject from a
point of view at a considerable distance both of space
and time.
“ Let us then suppose numberless stars of various
sizes scattered over an indefinite portion of space, in
such
|i ica-
•(Hu
oftl
■- iea.
ft
ASTRONOMY.
PP»®parent such a manner as to be almost equally distributed
lotions through the whole. The laws of attraction, which no
t*16 doubt extend to the remotest regions of the fixed stars,
will operate in such a manner as most probably to pro¬
duce the following remarkable effects.
“ I. It will frequently happen, that a star, being
equen-considerably larger than its neighbouring ones, will
attract them more than they will be attracted by
others that are immediately around them j by which
means they will be in time, as it were, condensed about
a centre : or, in other words, form themselves into a
cluster of stars of almost a globular figure, more or
less regularly so according to the size and original di¬
stance of the surrounding stars. The perturbations of
these mutual attractions must undoubtedly be very
intricate, as we may easily comprehend, by considering
what Sir Isaac Newton has said, Princip. lib. I. prop.
38. et seq. : but in order to apply this great author’s
reasoning of bodies moving in ellipses to such as are
here for a while supposed to have no other motion than
what their mutual gravity has imparted to them, we
must suppose the conjugate axes of these ellipses inde¬
finitely diminished, whereby the ellipses will become
straight lines.
“ II. The next case, which will happen almost as
frequently as the former, is where a few stars, though
not superior in size to the rest, may change to be ra¬
ther nearer each other than the surrounding ones j for
here also will be formed a prevailing attraction in the
combined centre of gravity of them all, which will oc¬
casion the neighbouring stars to draw together; not,
indeed, so as to form a regular globular figui’e, but,
however, in such a manner as to be condensed towards
the common centre of gravity of the whole irregular
cluster. And this construction admits of the utmost
variety of shapes, according to the number and situa¬
tion of the stars which first gave rise to the condensa¬
tion of the rest.
“ III. From the composition and repeated conjunc¬
tion of both the foregoing forms, a third may be de¬
rived, when many large stars, or combined small ones,
are situated in long extended regular or crooked rows,
hooks, or branches ; for they will also draw the sur¬
rounding ones so as to produce figures of condensed
stars coarsely similar to the former, which gave rise to
these condensations.
“ IV. We may likewise admit of still more exten¬
sive combinations •, when, at the same time that a cluster
of stars is forming in one part of space, there may be
another collecting in a different, but perhaps not far di¬
stant quarter, which may occasion a mutual approach
towards their common centre of gravity.
“ V. In the last place, as a natural consequence of
the former cases, there will be great cavities or vacan¬
cies formed by the retreat of the stars towards the vari¬
ous centres which attract them $ so that, upon the whole,
there is evidently a field of the greatest variety for the
mutual and combined attractions of the heavenly bodies
to exert themselves in.
“ From this theoretical view of the heavens, which
has been taken from a point not less distant in time
than in space, we will now retreat to our own retired
station, in one of the planets attending a star in its
great combination with numberless others: and in or¬
der to investigate what will be the appearances from
M 1
M
III I
It ||
jit Jr
’ Vacicies,
>ilhey
aoill in
' the ifea-
reaii
this contracted situation, let us begin with the naked
eye. The stars of the first magnitude, being in all pro¬
bability the nearest, will furnish us with a step to begin
our scale. Setting olf, therefore, with the distance
of Sirius or Arcturus, for instance, as unity, we wi
at present suppose, that those of the second magnitude
are at double, those of the third at treble, the distance,
&c. Taking it for granted, then, that a star of the
seventh magnitude (the smallest supposed visible with
the naked eye) is about seven times as far as one of
the first, it follows, that an observer who is enclosed in
a globular cluster of stars, and not far from the centre,
will never be able with the naked eye to see to the end
of it 3 for since, according to the above estimations,
he can only extend his view to above seven times the
distance of Sirius, it cannot be expected that his eyes
should reach the borders of a cluster which has perhaps
not less than 50 stars in depth everywhere around
him. The whole universe to him, therefore, will be
comprised in a set of constellations richly ornamented
with scattered stars of all sizes : Or, if the united
brightness of a neighbouring cluster of stars should, in
a remarkable clear night, reach his sight, it will put
on the appearance of a small, faint, whitish, nebulous
cloud, not to be perceived without the greatest atten¬
tion. Let us suppose him placed in a much extended
stratum or branching cluster of millions of stars, such
as may fall under the third form of nebulae already con¬
sidered. Here also the heavens will not only be richly
scattered over with brilliant constellations, but a shi¬
ning zone or milky-way will be perceived to surround
the whole sphere of the heavens, owing to the com¬
bined light of these stars which are too small, that is,
too remote, to be seen. Our observer’s sight will be so
confined, that he will imagine this single collection of
stars, though he does not even perceive the thousandth
part of them, to be the whole contents of the heavens^
Allowing him now the use of a common telescope, he
begins to suspect that all the milkiness of the bright
path which surrounds the sphere may be owing to
stars. He perceives a few clusters of them in various
parts of the heavens, and finds also that there are a
kind of nebulous patches : but still his views are not
extended to reach so far as to the end of the stratum
in which he is situated 3 so that he looks upon these
patches as belonging to that system which to him seems
to comprehend every celestial object. He now in¬
creases his power of vision ; and, applying himself to
a close observation, finds that the milky-way is indeed
no other than a collection of very small stars. He
perceives, that those objects which had been called
nebulce, are evidently nothing but clusters of stars.
Their number increases upon him ; and when he re¬
solves one nebula into stars, he discovers ten new ones
which he cannot resolve. He then forms the idea of
immense strata of fixed stars, of cluster's of stars, and
of nebulae 3 till, going on with such interesting obser¬
vations, he now perceives, that all these appearances
must naturally arise from the confined situation in
which we are placed. Covjlned it may justly be
called, though in no less a space than what appear¬
ed before to be the whole region of the fixed stars,
but which now has assumed the shape of a crookedly
branching nebula 3 not indeed one of the least, but per¬
haps very far from being the most considerable, of those
K. 2 numberless?
75
Apparent
Moti< ns
of the
Heavenly
B idles.
*33
How the
stars must
appear to
us accord¬
ing to this
hypothesis.
76
ASTRONOMY.
Apparent
Motions
of the
234
Arguments are {0
in favour
of the fore-
seevations
on nebulte.
numlierless clusters that enter into the construction of
the heavens.”
Heaven! ^ur au^lor now proceeds to show that this theoreti-
JBodies. ca^ v^ew ^ie heavens is perfectly consistent with facts,
and seems to be confirmed by a series of observations.
Many hundreds of nebulae of the first and second forms
be seen in the heavens; and their places, be
says, will hereafter be pointed out j many of the third
going theo-form described, and instances of the fourth related j
ry from ob-a few of the cavities mentioned in the fifth particula¬
rized, though many more have been already observed:
so that, “ upon the whole (says he), I believe it will
be found, that the foregoing theoretical view, with all
its consequential appearances, as seen by an eye enclo¬
sed in one of the nebulae, is no other than a drawing
from nature, wherein the features of the original have
been closely copied : and I hope the resemblance will
not be called a bad one, when it shall be considered
how very limited must be the pencil of an inhabitant
of so small and retired a portion of an indefinite system
in attempting the picture of so unbounded an extent.”
Dr Herschel next presents us with a long table of
star-gauges, or accounts of the number of stars at once
men- tjie 0f jjjg telescope, which go as high as 588 $
heavens. eafter which he proposes the following
Problem.
Part!
235
Method of
measuring
the dimen-
“ The stars being supposed nearly equally scattered,
and their number, in a field of view of a known angular
diameter, being given j to determine the length of the
visual ray.
“ Here, the arrangement of the stars not being fix¬
ed upon, we must endeavour to find which way they
may be placed so as to fill a given space most equally.
Suppose a rectangular cone cut into frustula by many
equidistant planes perpendicular to the axis j then, if
one star be placed at the vertex and another in the axis
at the first intersection, six stars may be set around it so
as to be equally distant from one another and from the
central star. These positions being carried on in the
same manner, we shall have every star within the cone
surrounded by eight others at an equal distance from
that star taken as a centre. Fig. 100. contains four
sections of such a cone distinguished by alternate shades;
which will be sufficient to explain what sort of arrange¬
ment I would point out.
“ The series of the number of stars contained in
the several sections will be I, 7, 19, 37, 61, 91, &c.
which continued to n terms, the sum of it, by the
• • • 7l~- X 72, ~ X
differential method, will be na-\-n.-
a n-
—2
d’\ &c. where a is the first term, d!, d", d'", &c.
the first, second, and third differences. Then, since
d'zs.6, d"—6, d'"=zO, the sum of the series will be n3.
Let S be the given number of stars ; 1 the diameter of
the base of the field of view; and B the diameter of the
great rectangular cone ; and by trigonometry we shall
have    „ .Now, since the field of view
Tang. 4 field’
of a telescope is a cone, we shall have its solidity to
that of the great cone of the stars formed by the
above construction, as the square of the diameter of the
base of the field of view, to the square of the diameter
> 2
237
of the great cone, the height of both being the same ; App
and the stars in each cone being in the ratio of the so- Motk
- ofti
hdity, as being equally scattered, we have -y/B’S; Ileav{:
and the length of the visual ray ~n—1, which was to
be determined.” Another solution of this problem, on ' r'
the supposition of another arrangement of stars, is given;
but Dr Herschel prefers the former. ^
From the data now laid down, Dr Herschel next en-Proof 0
deavours to prove that the earth is i the planet ofaoul'sid<
star belonging to a compound nebula of the third form.’ ^S)8*
“ I shall now (says he) proceed to show, that the stu-nebula?
pendous sidereal system we inhabit, this extensive stra¬
tum, and its secondary branch, consisting of many mil¬
lions of stars, is in all probability a detached nebula. In
order to go upon grounds that seem to me to be capable
of great certainty, they being no less than an actual sur¬
vey of the boundaries of our sidereal system, which I
have plainly perceived as far as I have yet gone round
it, everywhere terminated, and in most places very nar¬
rowly too, it will be proper to show the length of my
sounding line, if I may so call it, that it may appear
whether it was sufficiently long for the purpose.
“ In the most crowded parts of the milky-way, I Length}
have had fields of view that contained no fewer thantllc.line
588 stars, and these were continued for many mi-^“cM
nutes : so that in one quarter of an hour’s time there measmt
passed no less than 116,000 stars through the field ofthe hea.
view of my telescope. Now, if we compute the lengthvens.
of the visual ray, by putting 8=588, and the diame¬
ter of the field of view 15 minutes, we shall find
3 
«=N/BiS=498; so that it appears the length of what
I have called my Sounding Line, or n—1, was not
probably less than 497 times the distance of Sirius from
the sun.
“ It may seem inaccurate that we should found an
argument on the stars being equally scattered, when, in
all probability, there may not be any two of them in
the heavens whose mutual distance shall be equal to
that of any other two given stars : but it should be
considered, that when we take all the stars collectively,
there will be a mean distance which may be assumed
as the general one ; and an argument founded on such
a supposition will have in its favour the greatest pro- g
bability of not being far short of truth. And here I Cluster c
must observe, that the difl’erence between a crowded stars de¬
place and a cluster (none of the latter being put intofined‘
the gauge table), may easily be perceived by the ar¬
rangement as well as the size and mutual distance of
the stars ; for in a cluster they are generally not only
resembling each other pretty nearly in size, but a cer¬
tain uniformity of distance also takes place : they are
more and more accumulated towards the centre, and put
on all the appearances which we should naturally expect
from a number of them collected into a group at a
certain distance from us. On the other hand, the rich
parts of the milky-way, as well as those in the distant
broad parts of the stratum, consist of a mixture of stars
of all possible sizes, that are seemingly placed without
any particular apparent order. Perhaps, we might re¬
collect, that a greater condensation towards the centre
of our system than towards the borders of it should be
taken into consideration ; but with a nebula of the
third form containing such various and extensive com¬
binations
Moti0l
. oftli,
learei
Bodij
t3<
roof of
ir sidt.
alsjn
:inSa
:bula,
237
Ellgtl
elk
lich I
ersclf
:asutt
c h
ns.
239
Sxtent of
< Part II. ASTRO
Apparent binations as I have found to take place in ours, this
Motions circumstance, -which in one of the first form would be
of the of considerable moment, may, I think, be safely ne-
^Bodks17 g,ected*
, “ If some other high gauge be selected from the
table, such as 472 or 344, the length of the visual ray
will be found 461 and 415. And although, in conse¬
quence of what has been said, a certain degree of
doubt may be left about the arrangement and scatter¬
ing of the stars, yet when it is recollected, that in those
parts of the milky-way, where these high gauges were
taken, the stars were neither so small nor so crowded
as they must have been, on a suppostion of a much
farther continuance of them, when certainly a milky
or nebulous appearance must have come on, I need
not fear to have overrated the extent of my visual ray j
and indeed every thing that can be said to shorten it
will only contract the limits of our nebula, as it has in
most places been of sufficient length to go far beyond
the bounds of it. Thus in the sides of our stratum,
opposite to our situation in it, where the gauges often
eju OI run below 5, our nebula cannot extend to 100 times
nebula. ^ie distance of Sirius j and the same telescope which,
could show 588 stars in a field of view of 15 minutes,
must certainly have presented me also with the stars in
these situations, had they been there. If we should
answer this by observing, that they might be at too
great a distance to be perceived, it will be allowing
that there must at least be a vacancy amounting to
the length of a visual ray, not short of 400 times the
distance of Sirius ; and this is amply sufficient to make
our nebula a detached one. It is true, that it would
not be consistent confidently to affirm that we were on
an island, unless we had found ourselves everywhere
bounded by the ocean ; and therefore I shall go no far¬
ther than the gauges will authorize ; but considering
the little depth of the stratum in all those places which
have been actually gauged, to which must be added all
the intermediate parts that have been viewed and found
to be much like the rest, there is but little room to ex¬
pect a connection between our nebula and any of the
neighbouring ones. A telescope, with a much larger
aperture than my present one, grasping together a
greater quantity of light, and thereby enabling us to
see farther into space, will be the surest means of com¬
pleting and establishing the arguments that have been
used : for if our nebula is not absolutely a detached
one, I am firmly persuaded that an instrument may be
made large enough to discover the places where the
stars continue onwards. A very bright milky nebulo¬
sity must there undoubtedly come on, since the stars in
a field of view will increase in the ratio of n3 greater
than that of the cube of the visual ray. Thus, if 588
stars in a given field of view are to be seen by a ray of
497 times the distance of Sirius, when this is length¬
en jd to 1000, which is but little more than double the
former, the number of stars in the same field of view
will be no less than 4774 j for when the visual ray r is
71 2
will be ; where
given, the number of stars S
) and a telescope with a threefold power of
extending into space, or with a ray of 1500, which I
think may easily be constructed, will give us 16,096
stars. Nor would these be so close, but that a good
power applied to such an instrument might easily di?
Heavenly
Bodies
N O M Y. 77
stinguish them j for they need not, if arranged in re-
gular squares, approach nearer to each other than Molious
6".27 ; but the milky nebulosity I have mentioned,
would be produced by the numberless stars beyond
them, which, in one respect, the visual ray might also
be said to reach. l.o make this appear, we must re¬
turn to the naked eye : which, as we have before esti¬
mated, can only see the stars of the seventh magnitude
so as to distinguish them: but it is nevertheless very
evident, that the united lustre of millions of stars, such
as I suppose the nebula in Andromeda to be, will,
reach our sight in the shape of a very small faint nebu¬
losity } since the nebula of which I speak may easily
be seen in a fine evening. In the same manner, my.
present telescope, as I have argued, has not only a
visual ray that will reach the stars at 497 times the
distance of Sirius, so as to distinguish them, and pro¬
bably much farther, but also a power of showing the
united lustre of the accumulated stars that compose a
milky nebulosity at a distance far exceeding the former
limits: so that from these considerations it appears
again highly probable, that my present telescope not
showing such a nebulosity in the milky-way, goes al¬
ready far beyond its extent 5 and consequently much
more would an instrument, such as I have mentioned,
remove all doubt on the subject, both by showing the
stars in the continuation of the stratum, and by expo¬
sing a very strong milky nebulosity beyond them, that
could no longer be mistaken for the dark ground of the
heavens.
“ To these arguments, which rest on the firm basis Analogical
of a series of observation, wre may add the following arguments
considerations drawn from analogy. Among the greatin f^V0Br
number of nebulae which I have now already seen,^** do**
amounting to more than 900, there are many which in
all probability are equally extensive with that which
we inhabit 5 and yet they are all separated from each
other by very considerable intervals. Some, indeed,
there are that seem to be double and treble j and though
with most of these it may be that they are at a very
great distance from each other, yet we allow that some
such conjunctions really are to be found j nor is this
what we mean to exclude: But then these compound
or double nebulae, which are those of the third and
fourth forms, still make a detached link in the great
chain. It is also to be supposed, that there may be
some thinly scattered solitary stars between the large
interstices of nebulae ; which being situated so as to be
nearly equally attracted by the several clusters when
they were forming, remain unassociated : and though
we cannot expect to see those stars on account of their
vast distance, yet we may well presume that their num¬
ber cannot be very considerable in comparison to those
that are already drawn into systems j which conjecture
is also abundantly confirmed in situations where the ne¬
bulae are near enough to have their stars visible; for
they are all insulated, and generally to be seen upon a
very clear and pure ground, without any star near them
that might be thought to belong to them. And though
I have often seen them in beds of stars, yet from the
size of these latter we may be certain, that they were
much nearer to us than those nebulae, and belong un¬
doubtedly to our own system.”
Having thus determined that the visible system of
nature, by us called the universe, consisting of all the
celestial
^8
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
241
How the
figure of
our nebula
may be de¬
lineated.
A S T B
celestial bodies, and many more than can be seen by
the naked eye, is only a group of stars or suns with
their planets, constituting one of those patches called a
nebula, and perhaps not one ten-thousandth part of
what is really the universe, Dr Herschel goes on to
delineate the tigure of this vast nebula, which he is of
opinion may now be done ; and for this purpose he gives
a table, calculating the distances of the stars which
form its extreme boundaries, or the length of the vi¬
sual ray in different parts, by the number of stars con¬
tained in the field of his telescope at diiferent times,
according to the principles already laid down. He
does not, however, as yet attempt the whole nebula,
hut ol a particular section, represented fig. 160. “I
have taken one (says he) which passes through the
poles of our system, and is at rectangles to the con¬
junction ol the branches, which l have called its/ewg-fA.
The name of poles seems to me not improperly ap¬
plied to those points which are 90 degrees distant from
a circle passing along the milky-way j and the north
pole is here supposed to be situated in right ascension
186°, and polar distance (that is from the pole com¬
monly so called) ^8°. The section is one which makes
an angle of 350 with our equator, crossing it in
1 24^0 ar'd ^ celestial globe, adjusted to the
latitude of 550 north, and having r Ceti near the
meridian, will have the plane of this section pointed
out by the horizon. The visual rays are to be project¬
ed on the plane of the horizon of the latitude just
mentioned, which may be done accurately enough by
a globe adjusted in the manner directed. The stars in
the border, which are marked larger than the rest, are
those pointed out by the gauges. The intermediate
parts are filled up by smaller stars, arranged in straight
lines between the gauged ones. From this figure,
which I hope is not a very inaccurate one, we may see
that our nebula, as we observed before, is of the third
form 5 that is, a very extensive, branching, compound
congeries of many millions of stars, which most pro¬
bably owes its origin to many remarkably large, as
well as pretty closely scattered, small stars, that may
have drawn together the rest. Now, to have some idea
of the wonderful extent of this system, I must observe,
that this section of it is drawn upon a scale where the
distance of Sirius is no more than the 80th part of an
inch $ so that probably all the stars, which in the finest
nights we are able to distinguish with the naked eye,
may be comprehended within a sphere drawn round
the large star near the middle, representing our situa¬
tion in the nebula, of less than half a quarter of an inch
radius.”
Dr Herschel now proceeds to offer some further
thoughts on the origin of the nebulous strata of the
heavens : in doing which he gives some hints concern¬
ing the antiquity of them. “ If it were possible (says
he) to distinguish between the parts of an indefinitely
extended whole, the nebula we inhabit might be said
to be one that has fewer marks of antiquity than any
of the rest. To explain this idea perhaps more clearly,
We should recollect, that the condensation of clusters
of stars has been ascribed to a gradual approach } and
whoever reflects on the number of ages that must have
passed before some of the clusters that are to he found
in my intended catalogue of them could be so far con¬
densed as we find them at present, will not wonder if
O N O M Y. . Parti,
I ascribe a certain air of youth and vigour to many Apparti
very regularly scattered regions of our sidereal stratum. Motioi
There are, moreover, many places in it in which, if we of 1,1
may judge from appearances, there is the greatest rea- HeavelJr
son to believe that the stars are drawing towards secon- <
dary centres, and will in time separate into clusters, so 242
as to occasion many subdivisions. Hence me may sur-Of the ».
raise, that when a nebulous stratum consists chiefly ofcay an<*e
nebulae of the first and second forms, it probably owes C£mf,os,]'<,n
its origin to what may he called the decay of a great ° ncbu '
compound nebula of the third form; and that the sub¬
divisions which happened to it in length of time, occa¬
sioned all the small nebulae which sprung from it to lie
in a certain range, according as they were detached
from the primary one. In like manner, our system,
after numbers of ages, may very possibly become divid¬
ed, so as to give rise to a stratum of two or three
hundred nebulae ; for it would not be difficult to point
out so many beginning or gathering clusters in it.
This throws a considerable light upon that remarkable
collection of many hundreds of nebulae which are to
be seen in what I have called the nebulous stratum, in
Coma Berenices. It appears, from the extended and
branching figure of our nebula, that there is room for
the decomposed small nebulae of a large reduced former
great one to approach nearer to us in the sides than in
any other parts. Nay, possibly there might originally
be another very large joining branch, which in time
became separated by the condensation of the stars ;
and this may be the reason of the little remaining
breadth of our system in that very place j for the ne¬
bulae of the stratum of the Coma are brightest and most
crowded just opposite to our situation, or in the pole of
our system. As soon as this idea was suggested, I tried
also the opposite pole ; where accordingly I have met
with a great number of nebulae, though "under a much
more scattered form.
Some parts of our system indeed seem already to
have sustained greater ravages 'of time than others j
for instance, in the body of the Scorpion is an open¬
ing or hole, which is probably owing to this cause,
it is at least four degrees broad ; but its height I have
not yet ascertained. It is remarkable, that the 80th
Nebuleuse sans Etoiles of the Connoissance des Temps,
which is one of the richest and most compressed clu¬
sters of small stars I remember to have seen, is situated
just on the west border of it, and would almost autho¬
rize a suspicion that the stars of which it is composed
were collected from that place, and had left the vacancy.
VVnat adds not a little to this surmise is, that the same
phenomenon is once more repeated with the fourth
cluster of the Connoissance des Temps; which is also on
the western border of another vacancy, and has more¬
over a small miniature cluster, or easily resolvable nebu¬
la, of about 24 minutes in diameter north, following it
at no very great distance. 0
There is a remarkable purity or clearness in the
heavens when we look out of our stratum at the sides-
that is, towards Leo, Virgo, and Coma Berenices on
one hand, and towards Cetus on the other ; whereas
the ground of the heavens becomes troubled as we ap¬
proach towards the length or height of it. These
troubled appearances are easily to be explained by
ascribing them to some of the distant straggling stars
that yield hardly light enough to be distinguished.
And
art
Part II.
■Ppar
'lolioi
°f thi
Jeave
liodi
, 54i
the i
y and
foposii
ncbul
243
Universe
composed
jf nebulas.
STa/. Phil.
ASTRONOMY.
Bodies.
Apparent And I have indeed often experienced this to be the cause,
Motions by examining these troubled spots for a long while toge-
ofthe ther, when at last I generally perceived the stars which
Heavenly occasione(l them. But when we look towards the poles
of our system, where the visual ray does not graze along
the side, the straggling stars will of course be very few
in number : and therefore the ground of the heavens
will assume that purity which I have always observed to
take place in those regions.”
Thus, then, according to Dr Herschel, the universe
consists of nebulce, or innumerable collections of innu¬
merable stars, each individual of which is a sun not on¬
ly equal, but much superior to ours : at least if the
words of Mr Nicholson have any weight ; for he tells
ip5, 196. us, that “ each individual sun is destined to give light
to hundreds of worlds that revolve about it, but which
can no more be seen by us, on account of their great
distance, than the solar planets can be seen from the
fixed stars.” “ Yet (continues he), as in this unex¬
plored, and perhaps unexplorable, abyss of space, it is
no necessary condition that the planets should be of
the same magnitudes as those belonging to our system,
it is not impossible but that planetary bodies may be
discovered among the double and triple stars.”
Though in the above extracts from Dr Herschel’s
papers, the words condensations, clusters, &c. of stars
frequently occur, we are by no means from thence to
imagine that any of the celestial bodies in our nebula
are nearer to one another than we are to Sirius, whose
distance is supposed not to be less than 400,000 times
that of the sun from us, or 38 millions of millions of
miles. The whole extent of the nebula being in some
places near 500 times as great, must be such, that the
light of a star placed at its extreme boundary, suppo¬
sing it to fly with the velocity of 12 millions of miles
every minute, must have taken near 3000 years to
reach us. Dr Herschel, however, is by no means of
opinion, that our nebula is the most considerable in
the, universe. “ As we are used (says he) to call the
appearance of the heavens, where it is surrounded with
a bright zone, the milky.way, it may not be amiss to
point out some other very remarkable nebulae, which
cannot well be less, but are probably much larger, than
our own system ; and being also extended, the inhabi¬
tants of the planets that attend the stars which compose
them, must likewise perceive the same phenomena : for
which reason they may also be called milky-ways, bv
way of distinction.
“ My opinion of their size is grounded on the fol¬
lowing observations : There are many round nebulae of
the first form, of about five or six minutes in diameter,
the stars of which I can see very distinctly ; and on
comparing them with the visual ray calculated from
some of my long gauges, I suppose by the appearance
of the small stars in those gauges, that the centres of
these round nebulae may be 600 times the distance of
Sirius from us.”—He then goes on to tell us, that the
stars in such nebulae are probably twice as much con¬
densed as those of our system 5 otherwise the centre of
it would not be less than 6000 times the distance of
Sirius from us ; and that it is possibly much under¬
rated by supposing it only 600 times the distance of
that star.
“ Some of these round nebulae (says Dr Herschel)
have others near them, perfectly similar in form, colour,
79
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
and the distribution of stars, but of only half the dia¬
meter : and the stars in them seem to be doubly crowd¬
ed, and only at about half the distance from each other.
The y are indeed so small, as not to be visible without
the utmost attention. I suppose these miniature nebulce ■ 
to be at double the distance of the first. An instance
equally remarkable and instructive is a case where, in
the neighbourhood of twm such nebulae as have been
mentioned, I met with a third similar, resolvable, but
much smaller and fainter nebula. The stars of it are
no longer to be perceived ; but a resemblance of colour
with the former two, and its diminished size and light,
may well permit us to place it at full twice the di¬
stance of the second, or about four or five times the
distance of the first. And yet the nebulosity is not
of the milky kind 5 nor is it so much as difficultly re¬
solvable or colourless. Now in a few of the extend¬
ed nebulae, the light changes gradually, so as from
the resolvable to approach to the milky kind ; which
appears to me an indication, that the milky light of
nebulae is owing to their much greater distance. A
nebula, therefore, whose light is perfectly milky, can-
nob-well be supposed to be at less than six or eight
thousand times the distance of Sirius ; and though the
numbers here assumed are not to be taken otherwise
than as very coarse estimates, yet an extended nebula,
which an oblique situation, where it is possibly fore¬
shortened by one-half, two-thirds, or three-fourths of its
length, subtends a degree, or more in diameter, cannot
be otherwise than of a wonderful magnitude, and may
well outvie our milky-way in grandeur.”
Dr Herschel next proceeds to give an account of se-Vastlenglh
veral remarkable nebulse, and then concludes thus : of time re-
“ Now, what great length of time must be required <fu^te t0
to produce these effects (the formation of nebulse) may^™]^16
easily be conceived, when, in all probability, our whole
system of about 800 stars in diameter, if it were seen
at such a distance that one end of it might assume the
resolvable nebulosity, would not, at the other end, pre¬
sent us with the irresolvable, much less with the colour¬
less and milky, sort of nebulosities.” Great indeed must
be the length of time requisite for such distant bodies to
form combinations by the laws of attraction, since, ac¬
cording to the distances he has assumed, the light
of some of his nebulae must be thirty-six or forty-
eight thousand years in arriving from them to us. It
would be worth while then to inquire, whether attrac¬
tion is a virtue propagated in time or not; or whether it
moves quicker or slower than light?
In the course of Dr Herschel’s observations and in- why^the
quiries concerning the structure of the heavens, an oh- stars do not
jection occurred, that if the different systems were fall upon
formed by the mutual attractions of the stars, the whole0116 ano-
would be in danger of destruction by the falling of1^-
them one upon another. A sufficient answer to this,
he thinks, is, that if we can really prove the system of-
the universe to be what he has said, there is no doubt
but that the great Author of it has amply provided
for the preservation of the whole, though it should not
appear to us in what manner this is effected. Several
circumstances, however, he is of opinion, manifestly
tend to a general preservation : as, in the first place,
the indefinite extent of the sidereal heavens ; which
muct produce a balance that will effectually secure all
the parts of the great whole from approaching to each
other.
8o
ASTRONOMY.
Appareat
Motions
of t he
Heavenly
Bodies.
?47
Of the pla¬
netary
nebulae.
248
Method of
ascertain
Ing the si¬
tuation of
the s ars.
other. There remains then (says he) only to see
how the particular stars belonging to separate clusters
are prevented from rushing on to their centres of at¬
traction.” Ihis he supposes may be done by projec¬
tile forces •, “ the admission of which will prove such a
barrier against the seeming destructive power of attrac¬
tion, as to secure from it all the stars belonging to a
cluster, it not for ever, at least for millions of ages.
Besides, we ought perhaps to look upon such clusters,
‘hnd the destruction of a star now and then in some
thousands ot ages as the very means by which the
whole is preserved and renewed. These clusters may
be the laboratories of the universe, wherein the most
salutary remedies for the decay of the whole are pre¬
pared.”
In speaking of the planetary nebulae, by which name
he distinguishes those spots that are all over equally lu¬
minous, he says, “ if we should suppose them to be
single stars, with large diameters, we shall find it diffi¬
cult to account for their not being brighter, unless we
should admit that the intrinsic light of some stars may
be very much inferior to that of the generality j which,
however, can hardly be imagined to extend to such a
degree. We might suppose them to be comets about
their aphelion, if the brightness, as well as magnitude
of their diameters did not oppose this idea ; so that,
alter all, wre can hardly find any hypothesis so probable
as that of their being nebulae 5 but then they must con¬
sist of stars that are compressed and accumulated in the
highest degree. If it were not perhaps too hazardous
to pursue a former surmise of a renewal in what I figur¬
atively called the Laboratories of the Universe, the stars
forming these extraordinary nebulae, by some decay or
waste of nature being no longer fit for their former
purposes, and having their projectile forces, if any
such they had, retarded in each other’s atmosphere,
may rush at last together 5 and, either in succession or
by one general tremendous shock, unite into a new
body. Perhaps the extraordinary and sudden blaze of
a new star in Cassiopeia’s chair, in 1572, might pos¬
sibly be of such a nature. If a little attention to these
bodies should prove that, having no annual parallax,
they belong most probably to the class of nebulse, they
may then be expected to keep their station better than
any one of the stars belonging to our system, on ac¬
count of their being probably at a very great di¬
stance.”
As the fixed stars constantly keep nearly the same
situation relative to each other, astronomers have agreed
to refer to them, as to so many fixed points, the differ¬
ent motions of the other heavenly bodies. Hence the
reason of dividing them into constellations. But it was
necessary besides, for the sake of perfect precision, to
mark exactly the relative situation of every star in the
celestial sphere. This is accomplished in the following
Part I
manner.
“ A great circle is supposed to pass through the two
poles, and through the centre of every star. This cir¬
cle is called a circle of declination. The arc of this
circle included between the star and the equator mea¬
sures the declination of the star. The declination of a
star then is its perpendicular distance from the equator.
It is north or south, according as the star is situated on
the north or south side of the equator. All the stars
situated in the same parallel of the equator have of Apparei
249
course the same declination.
The declination then marks the situation of a star
north or south from the equator. Precision requires still
another circle from which their distance east or west may
be marked, in order to give the real place. The circle
of declination which passes through that point of the
equator, called dae. vernal equinoctial point, has been cho¬
sen for that purpose. The distance of the circle of decli¬
nation of a given star from that point measured on the
equator, or the arc of the equator included between the
vernal equinox and the circle of declination of the star,
is called its right ascension. If we know the declina¬
tion and the right ascension of a star, we know its pre-
cis^situation in the heavens.
The declination of any star may be easily found by ob¬
serving the following rule : Take the meridian altitude
of the star, at any place where the latitude is known, the
complement of this is the ‘zenith distance, and is called
north or south, as the star is north or south at the time
of observation. Then, I. When the latitude of the place
and zenith distance of the star are of different kinds,
namely, one north and the other south, their difference
will be the declination j and it is of the same kind with
the latitude, when that is the greatest of the two, other¬
wise it is of the contrary kind. 2. If the latitude and
the zenith distance are of the same kind, i. e. both
north or both south, their sum is the declination 5 and
it is of the same kind with the latitude.
To prove the truth of this rule, turn to fig. 86. where
Z is the zenith of the place, EQ the equinoctial, and
EZ the latitude. 1. Let r represent the place of a star Rules for
on the meridian, and Zr the zenith distance, the lati-fin<^'.nS ^
tude being greater: then E r (the declination) will bedeclinati<*
equal to EZ—Z r (the zenith distance) j again, let c
be the place of a star in the meridian, when the zenith
distance exceeds the latitude ; then E c (the declina-
tion)“Z c (the zenith distance)—EZ (the latitude).
And it is manifest, that in the former instance Z and r
are on the same side of the equinoctial; and that in the
latter case Z and c are on contrary sides. 2dly,
Let y be the place of a star on the meridian, having
its zenith distance Z y of the same kind with EZ the
latitude of the place : then Ey (the declination)— EZ
+ Zy ,• and the declination is of the same kind as the
latitude, because Z and y are on the same side of the
equinoctial. Q. E. 13.
For an example, suppose that in north latitude 5 2° 15',
the meridian altitude of a star is 510 28' on the south ;
then 38° 32' the zenith distance, being taken from 5 2°
15' the latitude, leaves 130 43'for declination of the
star north.
Having, by means of the above, found the decli-and right
nation of a star, it becomes requisite, in the next place, ascensioni
to know the right ascension, as its situation with regard
to the equator will then be known. Now the right
ascension being estimated from the point where the e-
quator and ecliptic intersect each other in the spring, a
point which is marked out by nothing that comes under
the cognizance of our senses j some phenomenon, there¬
fore, must be chosen, whose right ascension is either
given, or may be readily known at any time, that the
right ascensions of other objects may be discovered by
comparison with it. 1 or this purpose nothing appears
to
rtWt ir.
ASTRO
Iti® fPPa.rent s? ProPer as tlie sun; because Its motion is the most
iftiJrotl°ns simple, and its right ascension quickly found.
««;lL —v. ^ or in fig- 87. we have given QS the declination
"IretfvenV ’ 7' nave SIven tlle declination
Jjiodies. of t,ie sun (which may be easily taken every day at
"Y"™— — w noon by observation), and the angle SEQ the obliquity
of the ecliptic—i. e. one leg of a right-angled spherical
triangle, and its opposite angle, to find the adjacent leg
EQ, the right ascension—it may be done bv this pro¬
portion ; as the tangent of the obliquity of the ecliptic :
the tangent of the declination :: radius : the sine of the
right ascension reckoned from the nearer equinoctial
point.
For example: suppose on the Tjth of February the
sun’s south declination is found to be 13° 24', and the
obliquity of the ecliptic is 230 28'; we shall thus find
the sun’s right ascension :
As tangt. 230 28' 9.6376106
To tangt. 130 24' 9-3770030
So is radius xo.oocoooo
!Sfa
ngtj
inalii
To sine 33° 16' 58" 9-7393924
Here 33 16' 58" is the sun’s distance from T ; but
as the declination is at that time decreasing, and the sun
approaching Y, this must be taken from 360°, and the
remainder 326° 43' 2" is the right ascension.
In a similar manner may the sun’s right ascension be
calculated for every day at noon, and arranged in tables
ior use : for any intermediate time between one day at
noon and the following, the right ascension may be de¬
termined by proportion.
The longitude ES of the sun, when required, may be
readily found by the rules to ascertain the hypothenuse
of the same triangle.
The apparent diurnal motion of the heavenly bodies
being uniform, and performed in circles parallel to the
equator, the interval of the times in which two stars
pass over any meridian must bear the same proportion
to the period of the diurnal motion, as that arc of the
equator intercepted between the two secondaries pas¬
sing through the stars, does to 360°, as is evident from
the nature of the sphere : we may therefore find the
iigiit ascension of a star thus : Let an accurate pendu¬
lum clock be so regulated that the index may pass over
the twenty-four hours during the time in which any
iixed star after departing from the meridian will return
to it again, which is rather less than twenty-four hours.
Ihen let the index of a clock thus regulated be set to
twelve o’clock when the sun is on the meridian: and
observe the time the index points to, when the fixed
star whose right ascension is sought comes to the meri-
<Jian ; which may be most accurately known by means
of a transit telescope. Let these hours and parts, as
marked by the clock, be converted into degrees, &c.
ot the equator, by allowing ij°to an hour j and the
■ditierence between the right ascensions of the fixed star
and the sun will be known j this difference added to the
sun s right ascension for that day at rfoon, gives the risrht
ascension of the fixed star sought.
. 0r> lf a clock whose dial plate is divided into 360°,
instead of twelve hours, be ordered in such a manner!
that the index may pass round the whole circle in the
interval which a star requires to come to the same meri¬
dian again and another index be so managed as to
point out the sexagesimal parts: then, when the sun is
on the meridian, let the indices of the clock be put to
Vol. Ill, Part I. r ,
f
N O M Y. 8t
his right ascension at noon that day ; and when the star Apparent
conies to the meridian, its right ascension will be shown Motions
by the clock, without any kind of reduction. of the
The stars are referred likewise to the ecliptic as well J^0T.enIy
as to the equator. In that case the terms longitude
and latitude are used.
I he longitude of any of the heavenly bodies is an Longitude
arc of the ecliptic contained between the first point ofofthehea.
Aries, and a secondary to the ecliptic or circle of lati-ven^T
tude, passing through the body ; it is always measured ^oc'^es’
according to the order of the signs. If the body be
supposed seen from the centre of the earth, it is called
geocentric longitude 5 but if it be supposed seen from
the centre of the sun, then is the longitude heliocen¬
tric.
. Tke latitude of a heavenly body is its distance from j at?tude&
the ecliptic, measured upon a secondary to the eclip¬
tic drawn through the body. If the latitude be such
as is seen from the earth’s centre, it is called geocen-
t> cc latitude 5 but if it be supposed seen from the centre
of the sun, it is heliocentric*
i he equator being the principal circle which re¬
spects the earth, the latitudes and longitudes of terres¬
trial objects are referred to it; and, for a similar reason
(the sun’s motion in the ecliptic rendering that the
principal of the celestial circles), the situations of hea¬
venly objects are generally ascertained by their lati¬
tudes and longitudes referred to the ecliptic : it has
therefore become a useful problem to find the latitudes
and longitudes of the stars, &c. having their declina¬
tions,, and. right ascensions, with the obliquity of the
ecliptic, given. One of the best methods of perform-
mg this problem has been thus investigated: Let How found.
» be the place of the body (fig. 88.), EC the
ecliptic, EQ the equator: and SL and SR being re¬
spectively perpendicular to EC and EQ, ER will re¬
present the right ascension, SR the declination, EL
the longitude, and SL the latitude ; then, by spherics
S SR:co-ta”ff- SER; and
SER_4_CEQ_SEL. Also, co-sine SER : rad :: tamr
ER : tang. ES; and rad. : co-sine SEL :: tang. ES :
tang. EL; therefore, co-sine SER : co-sine SEL : :
tang. ER • tang. EL; whence we readily get
co-sine SLL X tang. ER
c^TSER" = the tangeQt of EL, the
longitude. Then, rad. : sine of EL :: tang. SEL :
tang. SL, the latitude.
But the same thing may be performed very expedi-
tion.sly by means of the following excellent rule, given
by Hr Maskelyne, the present worthy astronomer
royal:
1. The sine of the right ascension -f co-tang, de¬
clination—10 =r co-tang. of arc A, which call north.
or according as the declination is north or south.
2. Call the obliquity of the ecliptic south in the six
mst signs of right ascension, and north in the six last.
Let the sum of are A, and obliquity of ecliptic, ac¬
cording to their titles, —arc B with its proper title,
tit one be north and the other south, the proper title
is that which belongs to the greater; and in this case
arc B is their differwice.] 3, The arithmetical com!
plement or co-sine arc A + co-sine arc B X tang, right
ascension =: tangent of the longitude: this is of the
same kind as the right ascension, unless arc B be more
than 90 , when the quantity found of the same kind as
h the
82
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
ASTRO
the right ascension must he subtracted from 12 signs,
or 360°. 4. The sine" of longitude -{- tang, arc
B — 10 —tang, of the required latitude, of the same
title as arc IT Note, If the longitude be found near
0° or near 180°, for the sine of longitude, in the last
operation, substitute tang, longitude -J- co-sine longi¬
tude — 10; and then the last operation will be tang,
longitude -J- co-sine longitude -f- tang, arc B — 20 —
tang, latitude. By sine, tang. &c. are meant logarithm
sine, log. tang. &c.
This rule may be exemplified by inquiring what are
the latitude and longitude of a star whose declination is
I2° 59' north, and right ascension 4s 290 38', the obli¬
quity of the ecliptic being 290 28'?
Here, sine of right ascension 4s 290 38'
Co-tang, of declination 12 59
Co-tang, of arc A, north 24
Obliquity of ecliptic south 23
Arc B, north - 1
Arith. comp, of co-sine arc A
Tangent of right ascension
31
28
9-7o37486
10-6372126
1034069612
cos. 9-9999271
0-0410347
9-7678344
Tangent of longitude 1470 15' 26" 9-8087962
Or 4s 270 13' 26", answering to 270 13' 26" of Leo.
Then, sine of longitude - - 9'7334843
8-2631153
Tangent of arc B
254
Sttars vary
in right a-
scension
and decli¬
nation.
255
Observa¬
tions of the
Asiatic
shepherds.
256
To deter¬
mine the
time of the
sun’s occu¬
pying the
equinoctial
points.
Tang, of latitude, north, 34' 6" 7'99^S99^
Astronomers have observed that the stars vary in
right ascension and in declination, but keep the same
latitude: hence.it was concluded that their variations
in declination and right ascension were owing to the
revolution ot the celestial sphere round the poles of the
ecliptic. Or they may be accounted for by supposing
that the poles of the equator revolve slowly round those
of the ecliptic. This revolution is called the preces¬
sion ol the equinoxes. A more particular account of it
will be necessary'.
By a long series of observations, the shepherds of Asia
were able to mark out the sun’s path in the heavens ;
he being always in the opposite point to that which
comes to the meridian at midnight, with equal but op¬
posite declination. Thus they could tell the stars
among which the sun then was, although they could
not see them. They discovered that this path was a
great circle of the heavens, afterwards called the
Ecliptic j which cuts the equator in two opposite
points, dividing it, and being divided by it, into two
equal parts. They farther observed, that when the
sun was in either of those points of intersection, his
circle of diurnal revolution coincided with the equa¬
tor, and therefore the days and nights were equal.
H ence the equator came to be called the Equinoc¬
tial line, and the points in which it cuts the eclip¬
tic were called the Equinoctial points, and the
sun was then said to be in the equinoxes. One of these
was called the Vernal and the other the Autumnal
Equinox.
It was evidently an important problem in practical
astronomy to determine the exact moment of the sun’s
occupying these stations-, for it was natural to compute
the course of the year from that moment. Accordingly
this has been the leading problem in the astronomy of
3
Motioi
ofthe
Heave
Bodie
N O M Y. Part ]
all nations. It is susceptible of considerable precision, Appare
without any apparatus of instruments. It is only ne¬
cessary to observe the sun’s declination on the noon of
two or three days before and after the equinoctial day.
On two consecutive days of this number, bis declination
must have changed from north to south, or from south
to north. If his declination on one day was observed
to be 11' north, and on the next 5' south, it follows that
his declination was nothing, or that he was in the equi¬
noctial point about 23 minutes after 7 in the morning
of the second day. Knowing the precise moments, and
knowing the rate of the sun’s motion in the ecliptic, it
is easy to ascertain the precise point of the ecliptic in
which the equator intersected it.
By a series of such observations made at Alexandria Hippar-
between the years 161 and 127 before Christ, Hippar-Aws’s di
elms, the father of our astronomy, found that the pointcovenes’
of the autumnal equinox was about six degrees to the
eastward of the star called Spica virginis. Eager to
determine every thing by multiplied observations, be ran¬
sacked all the Chaldean, Egyptian, and other records,
to which Itis travels could procure him access, for obser¬
vations of the same kind; but he does not mention bis
having found any. He found, however, some observa¬
tions ol Aristillus and Timochares made about 1 50 years
before. From these it appeared evident that the point
of the autumnal equinox was then about eight degrees
east of the same star. He discusses these observations
with great sagacity and rigour ; and, on their authority,
he asserts that the equinoctial points are not fixed in
the heavens, but move to the westward about a degree
in 75 years or somewhat less.
This motion is called the PRECESSION OF THE Equi- w- 258 <
NOXES, because by it the time and place of the sun’s the'prece
equinoctial station precedes the usual calculations: it issiouoftli
fully confirmed by all subsequent observations. In 1750 equinoxa
the autumnal equinox was observed to be 20° 2i' west¬
ward ot Spica Virginis. Supposing the motion to have
been uniform during this period of ages, it follows that
the annual precession is about 50"-^ j that is, if the ce¬
lestial equator cuts the ecliptic in a particular point on
any day of this year, it will on the same day of the fol¬
lowing year cut it in a point 50"! to the west of it,
and the sun will come to the equinox 2o' 23" before be
has completed his round of the heavens. Thus the
equinoctial or tropical year, or true year of seasons,
is so much shorter than the revolution ofthe sun or the
sidereal year.
It is this discovery that has chiefly immortalized
the name of Hipparchus, though it must be acknow-of the dis-
ledged that all his astronomical researches have been covery.
conducted with the same sagacity and intelligence. It
was natural therefore lor him to value himself highly
for the discovery. It must be acknowledged to be one
of the most singular that has been made, that the re¬
volution of the whole heavens should not be stable,
but its axis continually changing. For it must be ob¬
served, that since the equator changes its position, and
the equator is only an imaginary circle, equidistant from
the two poles or extremities of the axis ; these poles
and this axis must equally change their positions. The
equinoctial points make a complete revolution in about
25’745 years, the , equator being all the while inclined
to the ecliptic in nearly the same angle. Therefore
the poles of this diurnal revolution must describe a
circle
BStei
j (inf (
iM
Irict
ikr
i 161
Uotii
oftlk
art II.
ppiirciit circle round the poles of the ecliptic at the distance of
.lotions about 23J degrees in 25,745 years; and in the time of
. Holt*ie I imochares the north pole of the heavens must have
y been 30 degrees eastward of where it now is.
-v-—> Hipparchus has been accused of plagiarism and insin-
260 cerity in this matter. It is now very certain that the
iparclius precession of the equinoxes was known to the astrono-
bcen ^ mers ot India many ages before the time of Hipparchus,
n It appears also that the Chaldeans had a pretty accurate
rrom their saros we
ASTRONOMY. 8j
described by the pole of the equator during one revolu- Apparent
tion of the equinoctial points. Let P be the place of Motions
this last-mentioned pole at some given time. Round
*iee Du-
Isur le
ague
knowledge of the year of seasons.
deduce their measure of this year to be 365 days 5 hours
49 minutes and 11 seconds, exceeding the truth only
by 26", and much more exact than the year of Hippar¬
chus. They had also a sidereal year of 365 days 6
hours 11 minutes. Now what could occasion an atten¬
tion to two years, if they did not suppose the equi¬
noxes moveable ? The Egyptians also had a knowledge
of something equivalent to this : for they had discover¬
ed that the dog-star was no longer the faithful fore-
Warner of the overflowing of the Nile : and they com-
d&Egyp- bined him with the star Fomalhaset * in their mystic ca-
!u., Mem. lendar. This knowledge is also involved in the precepts
d<> Acad. 0f t|ie Chinese astronomy, of much older date than the
torn;,, time of Hipparchus.
bifalscly. Hut all these acknowledged facts are not sufficient
for depriving Hipparchus of the honour of the disco¬
very, or fixing on him the charge of plagiarism. This
motion was a thing unknown to the astronomers of the
Alexandrian school, and it was pointed out to them
by Hipparchus in the way in which he ascertained
every other position in astronomy, namely, as the ma¬
thematical result of actual observations, and not as a
thing deducible from any opinions on other subjects re¬
lated to it. We see him, on all other occasions, eager
to confirm his own observations, and his deductions from
them, by every thing he could pick up from other astro¬
nomers ; and he even adduced the above-mentioned
practice of the Egyptians in corroboration of his doc¬
trine. It is more than probable then that he did not
know any thing more. Had he known the Indian pre¬
cession of 54" annually, he had no temptation whatever
to withhold him from using it in preference to one
which he acknowledges to be inaccurate, because dedu¬
ced from the very short period of 150 years, and from
the observations of Timochares, in which he had no
great confidence.
Small periodical irregularities in the inclination of
the equator to the ecliptic, and in the precession of the
equinoxes, were discovered and examined by Bradley
with great sagacity. He found that the pole described
an epicycle, whose diameter was about 18", having for
its centre that point of the circle round the pole of the
ecliptic in which the pole would have been found inde¬
pendent of this new motion. He also observed, that
the period of this epicyclical motion was 18 years and
seven months. It struck him, that this was precisely
the period of the revolution of the nodes of the moon’s
orbit. He gave a brief account of these results to
Lord Macclesfield, then president of the Royal Society,
m 1747. Mr Machin, to whom he also communicated
the observations, gave him in return a very neat mathe¬
matical hypothesis, by which the motion might be cal¬
culated.
Let E (fig. 89.) be the pole of the ecliptic, and SPQ
a circle distant from it 230 28', representing the circle
of the
P describe a circle ABCD, whose diameter AC is 187.
I he real situation of the pole will be in the circumfer- . , v
ence of this circle; and its place, in this circumference, 262
depends on the place of the moon’s ascending node. Mathema-
Draw EPF and GPL perpendicular to it ; let GL bef'.c^ t^eory
the colure of the equinoxes, and EF the colure of the equa.
solstices. Dr Bradley’s observations showed that the tor be sup-
pole was in A when the node was in L, the vernal equi-posed to
nox. If the node recede to H, the winter solstice, the d.escribe a
pole is in B. When the node is in the autumnal equi-circle‘
nox at G, the pole is at C ; and when the node is in F,
the summer solstice, the pole is in D. In intermediate
situations of the moon’s ascending node, the pole is in a
point of the circumference ABCD, three signs or 90°
more advanced.
Dr Bradley, by comparing together a great number More exact
of observations, found that the mathematical theory,if an ell}Pse
and the calculation depending on it, would correspond
much better with the observations, if an ellipse were tb^circle.
substituted for the circle ABCD, making the longer
axis AC 18", and the shorter, BD, 16". M. d’Alem¬
bert determined, by the physical theory of gravitation,
the axis to be 18" and I3".4. 2(j4
These observations, and this mathematical theory, These ob-
rnust be considered as so many facts in astronomy, and servations
we must deduce from them the methods of computing a.nd ^llis
the places of all celestial phenomena, agreeable to the are
• i • i • • . icieis
universal practice ot determining every point of the hea-astronomy,
vens by its longitude, latitude, right ascension, and de¬
clination. „ ,
It is evident, m the first place, that the equation of Obliquity
the pole’s motion makes a change in the obliquity ofol'.tlie e~
the ecliptic. The inclination of the equator to the cllPtie'
ecliptic is measured by the arch of a great circle inter¬
cepted between their poles. Now, if the pole be in O
instead of P, it is plain that the obliquity is measured
by EO instead of EP. If EP be considered as the
mean obliquity of the ecliptic, it is augmented by 9"
when the moon’s ascending node is in the vernal equi¬
nox, and consequently the pole in A. It is, on the
contrary, diminished 9" when the node is in the autum¬
nal equinox, and the pole in C ; and it is equal to the
mean when the node is in the colure of the solstices.
This change of the inclination of the earth’s axis to the
plane of the ecliptic was called the nutation of the axis
by Sir Isaac Newton.
Dr Bradley also discovered a general and periodical
motion in all the stars, which alter a little their relative
situations. To form an idea of this motion, let us sup¬
pose that each star describes annually a small circum¬
ference parallel to the ecliptic, whose centre is the mean
position of the star, and whose diameter, as seen from
the earth, subtends an angle of about 40"; and that it
was in that circumference as the sun in its orbit, but so
that the sun always precedes it by 6o°. .This circum¬
ference, projected upon the surface of the celestial sphere,
appears under the form of an ellipse, more or less flat¬
tened according to the height of the star above the equa¬
tor, the smaller axis of the ellipse being to the greater
axis as the sine of that height to radius. These periodi¬
cal movements of the stars have received the name of
aberrations of thefixed stars.
L 2
Besides
8+
ASTRO
Apparent Besides these general motions, particular motions
Motions have been detected in several stars, excessively slow in-
of the deed, but which a long succession of ages has rendered
Bodies/ sens^le. These motions have been chiefly observed in
t Sirius and Arcturus. But astronomers suppose that all
the stars have similar motions, which may become evi-
I(S5 dent in process of time.
Distance of No method of ascertaining the distance of fixed stars
the fixed bath hitherto been found out. Those who have formed
measurable. conjectures concerning them, have thought that they
’ were at least 400,000 times farther from us than we
are from the sun.
They are said to be fixed, because they have been ge¬
nerally observed to keep at the same distances from each
Part II
other ; their apparent diurnal revolutions being caused
I r M. 1. _____  
Why they solely by the earth’s turning on its axis. They appear
seem so of a sensible magnitude to the bare eye, because the re-
naked e”1 t'na a^ectet^ not on*y by the rays of light which are
‘ t>c' emitted directly from them, but by many thousands
more, which falling upon our eyelids, and upon the
aerial particles about us, are reflected into our eyes so
strongly as to excite vibrations not only in those points
of the retina where the real images of the stars are
formed, but also in other points at some distance round
about. This makes us imagine the stars to be much
bigger than they would appear, if we saw them only by
the few rays which come directly from them, so as to
enter our eyes without being intermixed with others.
Any one may be sensible of this, by looking at a star
of the first magnitude through a long narrow tube ;
which, though it takes in as much of the sky as would
hold 1000 such stars, yet scarcely renders that one vi¬
sible.
The more a telescope magnifies, the lesff is the aper¬
ture through which the star is seen } and consequently,
the fewer rays it admits into the eye. Now, since the
stars appear less in a telescope which magnifies 200
times, than they do to the bare eye, insomuch that they
seem to be only indivisible points, it proves at once that
the stars are at immense distances from us, and that
they shine by their own proper light. If they shone by
borrowed light, they would be as invisible without tele¬
scopes as the satellites of Jupiter are ; for these satel¬
lites appear bigger when viewed with a good telescope
than the largest fixed stars do.
Dr Herschel has proposed a method of ascertaining
the parallax of the fixed stars, something similar, but
more complete, than that mentioned by Galileo and
others •, for it is by the parallax of the fixed stars that
we should be best able to determine their distance.
The method pointed out by Galileo, and first attempt¬
ed by Hooke, Flamstead, Molineux, and Bradley, of
taking distances of stars from the zenith that pass very
near it, has given us a much juster idea of the immense
distance of the stars, and furnished us with an approxi¬
mation to the knowledge of their parallax, that is much
nearer the truth than we ever had before. But Dr
Herschel mentions the insufficiency of tlfeir instru¬
ments, which were similar to the present zenith sec¬
tors, the method of zenith distances being liable to
considerable errors on account of refraction, the change
of position of the earth’s axis arising from nutation,
precession of the equinoxes, and other causes, and the
aberration of the light. The method of his own is by
26S
Parallax of
the fixed
stars.
N O M Y.
means of double stars j which is exempted from these Apparent
errors, and of such a nature, that the annual parallax, Motions
even if it should not exceed the tenth part of a second, of the
may still become more visible, and be ascertained, at Heavfnlj
least to a much greater degree of approximation than .
it has ever been done. This method is capable of every
improvement which the telescope and mechanism of
micrometers can furnish. The method and its theory
will be seen by the following investigation, extracted p. S?.
from his paper on the subject. Let O, E, (fig. 90.)
be two opposite points in the annual orbit, taken in
the same plane with two stars, a, b, of unequal magni¬
tudes. Let the angle a O b be observed, when the
earth is at O, and a E & be observed when the earth is
at E. From the difference of these angles, if there
should be any, we may calculate the parallax of the
stars, according to the theory subjoined. These two
stars ought to be as near each other as possible, and
also to differ as much in magnitude as we can find
them.
Dr Herschel’s theory of the annual parallax of
double stars, with the method of computing from thence
what is generally called the parallax of the fixed stars,
or of single stars of the first magnitude, such as are
nearest to us, supposes, first, that the stars, one with
another, are about the size of the sun $ and, secondlijy
that the difference of their apparent magnitudes is ow¬
ing to their different distances ; so that the star of the
second, third, or fourth magnitude, is two, three, or
four times as far off as one of the first. These princi¬
ples which he premises as postulata, have so great a
probability in their favour, that they will hardly he
objected to by those who are in the least acquainted
with the doctrine of chances. Accordingly, let OE
(fig. 91.) be the whole diameter of the earth’s an¬
nual orbit, and let a, b, c, be three stars situated in
the ecliptic, in such a manner that they may be seen
all in one line O ab c, when the earth is at O. Let
the line Q abc be perpendicular to OE, and draw PE
parallel to c 0 ; then, if O o, a b, b c, are equal to
each other, a will be a star of the first magnitude, b of
the second, and c of the third. Let us now suppose
the angle O a E, or parallax of the whole orbit of the
earth to be 1" of a degree j then we have PE a~0 a
Ezzi" : and because very small angles, having the
same subtense OE, may be taken to be in the inverse
ratio of the lines O a, Ob, O c, &c. we shall have
O b E~4-,/, O c E~y,/, &c. Now when the earth is
removed to E, we shall have PE £r=E b o=£", and
PE a—PE b=za E b—\u, L e. the stars a, b, will ap¬
pear to be y distant. We also have PE c=Ec 0=
and PE a—PE enra E c=r|-,/ j i. e. the stars a, c,
will appear to be distant when the earth is at E.
Now, since we have b EP=4", and c EP—there-
r
Li
fore b EP—c EV=b E c~y—y=y J i. e. the stars
b, c, will appear to be only y" removed from each
other when the earth is at E. Whence we may de¬
duce the following expression, to denote the parallax
that will become visible in the change of distance be¬
tween the two stars, by the removal of the earth from
one extreme of ks orbit to the other. Let P express-
the total parallax of a fixed star of the first magnitude,
M the magnitude of the largest of the two stars, m the
magnitude of the smallest, and jp the partial parallax
ta
2
rt II.
ASTRONOMY.
parent o^served by the change in the distance of a dou-
’thg5 hie star; then will -P ; and jo, being found
avenly *P\r
°^ies' , by observation, will give us Pzz:—E. G, Sup¬
pose a star of the first magnitude should have a small
star of the twelfth magnitude near it j then will the
• t I 2 X I P
partial parallax we are to expect to see be  , or
•J4 the total parallax of a fixed star of the first mag¬
nitude ; and if we should, by observation, find the
partial parallax between two such stars to amount to
l", we shall have the total parallax P~Y*~-1 * 1 2 —
12—i
P'.opop. If the stars are of the third and twenty-
fourth magnitude, the partial parallax will be ——-
3X24
21
=—P 5 and if, by observation, p is found to be a
72
tenth of a second, the whole parallax will come out
.1 X 3 X 24 „ 0
   2;=0'/.2428.
24—3 ^
Farther, suppose the stars, being still in the ecliptic,
to appear in one line, when the earth is in any other
part of its orbit between O and E ; then will the pa¬
rallax still be expressed by the same algebraic formula,
and one of the maxima will still lie at O, the other at
E 5 but the whole effect will be divided into two parts,
which will be in proportion to each other as radius —
sine to radius -f- sine of the stars distance from the
nearest conjunction or opposition.
When the stars are anywhere out of the ecliptic,
situated so as to appear in one line O a be perpendicu¬
lar to OE, the maximum of parallax will still be ex¬
pressed by —-P ; but there will arise another ad¬
ditional parallax in the conjunction and opposition,
which will be to that which is found 90° before or af¬
ter the sun, as the sine (iS*) of the latitude of the stars
seen at O is to the radius (R) ; and the effect of this
parallax will be divided into two parts ; half of it ly¬
ing on one sidy of the large star, the other half on the
other side of it. This latter parallax, moreover, will
be compounded with the former, so that the distance
of the stars in the conjunction and opposition will then
be represented by the diagonal of a parallelogram,
whereof the two semiparallaxes are the sides •, a general
expression for which will be s
-iVL
2MP
X SS
BR +15
for the stars will apparently describe two ellipses in the
heavens, whose transverse axes will be to each other
in the ratio of M to tn (fig. 93.), and A «, B £, C c,
I) d, will be the cotemporary situations. Now, if Z»Q
be drawn parallel to AC, and the parallelogram b (j
BQ be completed, we shall have £ Q CA 4
ca~\ C c=z\p, or semiparallax 90° before or after the
sun, and B£ may be resolved into, or is compound¬
ed of, b Q and b q ; but b q=^ BD—£ b dzz the se¬
miparallax in the conjunction or opposition. We also
have R t S :: : bq— therefore the distance
B b (or D
85
X
p s
Tr
the value ofp in this expression, we obtain
y
m—M
2 M
SS
; and by substituting iiotTon"/
of the
Heavenly-
Bodies.
as above. When the stars-
are in the pole of the ecliptic, bq will become equal
to b Q, and B b will be 7071 Again, let the
stars be at some distance, e. g, 5" from each other,
and let them both be in the ecliptic. This case is re¬
solvable into the first j for imagine the star a (fig. 92.)
to stand at a?, and in that situation the stars .v, b, c}
will be in one line, and their parallax expressed by
m—M J
M m ^Ut tie an8^e °Ea? may be taken to be
equal to aOx; and as the foregoing formula gives-
us the angles a?E & a? E c, we are to add oi E .v or 3^J
to a# E and we shall have a E A In general, let the
distance of the stars be d, and let the observed distance
at E be E, then will i)~d-^-p, and therefore the
whole parallax of the annual orbit will be expressed by,
l)M;n—c?M m
m—M
Suppose the two stars now to differ only in latitude,
one being in the ecliptic, the other, e. g. 5 north
when seen at O. This case may also be resolved by
the former; for imagine the stars b, c, (fig. 91.) to
be elevated at right angles above the plane of the fi¬
gure, so that a Ob, or aOc, may make an angle of 5,/
at O ; then, instead of the line O a b c, E a, E b, E c,
EP, imagine them all to be planes at right angles to
the figure ; and it will appear that the parallax of the
stars in longitude must be the same as if the small star
had been without latitude. And since the stars b, c,
by the motion of the earth from O to E, will not
change their latitude, we shall have the following con¬
struction for finding the distance of the stars a b, ac,
at E, and from thence the parallax B. Let the tri¬
angle a b (fig. 94.) represent the situation of the
stars ; a & is the subtense of j", the angle under which
they are supposed to be seen at O. The quantity b,
by the former theorem, is found ^—P, which is
m JV1
the partial parallax that would have been seen by the
earth’s moving from O to E, if hath stars had been in
the ecliptic, but on account of the difference in lati¬
tude, it will be now represented by a/3, the hypothe- -
nuse of the triangle a bp-, therefore, in general, put-
Y7xm m.
-M
ting a l—d, and a,S=D, we have
r:P. Hence I) being taken by observation, and r/, M,5
and m, given, we obtain the total parallax.
If the stuation of the stars differs in longitude as well
as latitude, we may resolve this case by the following
method. Let the triangle (fig. 169.) represent
the situation of the stars, a b—d being their distance
seen at O, a/3=I> their distance seen at E. That the
change h /3, which is produced by the earth’s motion
will be truly expressed by ^jA-P may be; proved as
before, by supposing the star a. to have been placed at
Apparent u. Now let the angle of position £ o « be taken by s
Aio n;as micrometer, or by any other method sufficiently exact;
Heavenly t^en» ^7 solving the triangle aba, we shall have the lon-
Bodies. gitudinal and latitudinal ditferences a a and b a of the
two stars. Putca~.r, b a—y, and it will be .r-}-^/3
— ay, whence D
-MP
V'D*—-y* x Ma/w—M m
m—M
M
+ yy i and
:P.
If neither of the stars should be in the ecliptic, nor
have the same longitude or latitude, the last theorem
will still serve to calculate the total parallax whose
maximum will lie in E. There will, moreover, arise
another parallax, whose maximum will be in the con¬
junction and opposition, which will be divided, and lie
on different sides of the large star 5 but as we know the
whole parallax to be exceedingly small} it will not be
necessary to investigate every particular case of this
kind ; for by reason of the division of the parallax,
which renders observations taken at any other time,
except where it is greatest, very unfavourable, the for¬
mulae wrould be of little use. Dr Herschel closes his
account of this theory with a general observation on
the time and place where the maxima of parallax will
happen.
Vf hen two unequal stars are both in the ecliptic, or,
not being in the ecliptic, have equal latitudes, north
or south, and the largest star has most longitude ; the
maximum of the apparent distance will be when the
sun’s longitude is 90 degrees more than the stars, or
when observed in the morning ; and the minimum
when the longitude of the sun is 90 degrees less than
that 0! the stars, or w’hen observed in the evening.
When the small star has most longitude, the maximum
and minimum, as well as the time of observation, will
be the reverse of the former' W hen the stars differ in
latitudes, this makes no alteration in the place of the
maximum or minimum, nor in the time of observa¬
tion ; i. e. it is immaterial whether the largest star has
the least or the greatest distance of the two stars.
Chap. VI. Oj the Figure of the Earth.
Having now described the apparent motions of the
heavenly bodies, let us return to the earth, in order to
examine the information which has been collected con-
269 cerning its figure.
Earthsphe- We have seen already, that the earth is spherical.
The force of gravity constantly directed towards its
centre retains bodies on its surface, though situated'on
places diametrically opposite, or though antipodes to
each other. The sun and stars appear always above the
earth j for above and below are merely relative to the
27° direction of gravity.
howTscer-8 As S00n tlle sPlierical figure of the earth was dis-
taineeb " covered> curiosity naturally led men to endeavour to
measure its dimensions. Hence it is probable, that at¬
tempts of that nature were made in very ancient times.
The reference which several of the ancient measures
have to the size of the globe is a confirmation of this.
But among the moderns, Picard was the first who exe¬
cuted the task with any degree of success. He mea¬
sured a degree of the meridian in France about the
middle of the 17th century.
Since a meridian, or any other circle on a sphere,
may be conceived to be divided into 360 equal parts,
called degrees, and these into minutes and seconds, as
explained by the writers on trigonometry, the circum¬
ference of the earth, and thence its diameter, may be
determined by measuring the length of a degree on the
meridian or any other great circle. To perform this
important problem, there have been various methods
invented by different philosophers of early and later
times ; one of these methods, which unites consider¬
able accuracy with great facility, will be readily under¬
stood from fig. 95. where PB and ST represent two
mountains or very high buildings, the distance PS
between which-must be very nicely determined by
longimetry : then, by measuring the angles HBT and
Kf'B with an accurate instrument, their sum taken
from 1800 leaves the angle BRT, which is measured
also by the arc PS ; whence PS is known in parts of
the whole circle. Thus, if the angle BTR be 89°
AS' 32"> t,,e ang^e TBR 89° 54' 28", and the distance
PS 23tV English miles ; then the angle R or arc PS
being equal to 1800-—89° 45' 32" +89° 54' 28"= 20'
it will be, as 20' : 60' or i° :: 23^ : 69! English
miles, length of a degree. Plence the circumference
of the earth is (according to this example) 24912
miles, and its diameter nearly 7930 miles.—A material
advantage attending this method is, that there is no oc¬
casion to measure the altitudes of the mountains, an
object which can seldom be attained without consider¬
able difficulty.
1 he method which is given above is, it must be
confessed, as well as all the other methods which aim
at the measurement of a degree without having re¬
course to the heavenly bodies, liable to some inaccu¬
racy 5 for, by reason of the changes in the state of the
atmosphere, distant terrestrial objects never appear in
their true places j they always seem more or less ele¬
vated or distant, according to the nature of the season,
and the time of the day. On this account—and be¬
cause it could not escape observation, that as persons
changed their situation on the earth by moving towards
the north or the south, the stars and other heavenly
bodies either increased or decreased their apparent alti¬
tudes proportionally—the measurement of a degree
was attempted even by the earliest philosophers, by
means of known fixed stars. Every person who is ac¬
quainted with plane trigonometry will admit, that the
distance of two places, north and south of each other,
may be accurately measured by a series of triangles ; for
if we measure the distance of any two objects, and take
the angles which each of them make with a third, the
triangle formed by the three objects will become
known ; so that the other two sides may be as truly
determined by calculation, as if they had been actu¬
ally measured. And by making either of these sides
the base of a new triangle, the "distances of other ob¬
jects may be found in the same manner 5 and thus by
a series of triangles, properly connected at their bases,
ive might measure any part of the circumference of
the earth. And if these distances were reduced to
the north and south, or meridian line, and the altitude
of some star was measured at the extremities of the
distance,
iart II.
Oft
ifaitj
Boiiiil
A S T It O
Moti' r)|)iireHt distance, the difference of the altit udes would he equal
Viotions to the length of the grand lines in degrees, minutes, &c.
of the whence the length of a degree would be known. This
dlifdies^ meti10d was5 we helieve, first practised by Eratosthenes
' |[ ‘ i in Egypt j and has been frequently used since with
greater and greater accuracy, in proportion as the in¬
struments for taking angles became, by gradual im¬
provements, more exact and minute.
By this method, or some others not widely different,
and which it is needless here to explain, the length of
a degree has been measured in different parts of the
earth ; the results of the most noted of these admeasure¬
ments it may be proper to give.
Snell found the length of a degree by two different
methods : by one method he made it 57064 Paris
toises, or 342384 feet; and by the other 57057 toises,
or 342342 feet.
M. Picard, in 1669, f°and by mensuration from A-
miens to Malvoisin, the quantity of a degree to be
57060 toises, or 342360 feet ; being nearly an arith¬
metical mean between the numbers of Snell.
Our countryman Norwood, about the year 1635, by
measuring between London and York, determined a
degree at 367196 English feet, or 57300 Paris toises,
or 69 miles 288 yards.
Muschenbroek, in 1700, with a view of correcting
the errors of Snell, found by particular observations that
the degree between Alcmaer and Bergen-op zoom con¬
tained 57033 toises.
Messrs Maupertuis, Clairaut, Monnier, and others
from France, were sent on a northern expedition, and
began their operations in July 1736; they found the
length ol a degree in Sweden to he 57439 toises, when
reduced to the level of the sea. About the same time
Messrs Godin, Bougucr, and Condamine, from France,
with some philosophers from Spain, were sent to South
America, and measured a degree in the province of
Quito in Peru ; the medium ot their results gives about
56750 toises for a degree.
M. de la Caille, being at the Cape of Good Hope
in 1752, found the length of a degree on the meridian
there to be 57037 toises. In 1755 Father Boscovich
found the length of a degree between Rome and Rimini
in Italy to be 56972 toises.
In 1764, F. Beccaria measured a degree near Turin ;
from his measurement he deduced the length of a de¬
gree there 57024 toises. At Vienna the length ol a
degree was found 57091 toises. ■
And in 1766 Messrs Mason and Dixon measured a
degree in Maryland and Pennsylvania, North America,
which they determined to he 363763 English feet, or
56904^ Paris toises.
I he difference of these measures leads us to conclude
that the earth is not exactly spherical, but that its axis '
which passes through the poles, is shorter than that
which passes through the equator. But the observa-
Itions which have been made to determine the magni¬
tude and figure of the earth, have not hitherto led to
results completely satisfactory. They have indeed de¬
monstrated the compression or oblateness of the terre¬
strial spheroid, but they have left an uncertainty as to
the quantity ol that compression, extending from about
the 170th, to the 330th part of the radius of the equa¬
tor. Between these two quantities, the former of
which is nearly double of the latter, most of the re-
87
N O M Y.
suits are placed, but in such a manner that those best Apparent
entitled to credit are much nearer to the least extreme Motions
than to the greatest. S;r Isaac Newton, as is well 01 ll|e
known, supposing the earth to be of uniform density, F^'dvV1,y
assigned for the compression at the poles
230
nearly a
mean between the two limits just mentioned ; and it is
probable, that, if the compression is less than this, it
is owing to the increase of the density toward the
centre. Boscovich, taking a mean from all the mea¬
sures ol degrees, so as to make the positive and nega¬
tive errors equal, found the difference of the axis of
the meridian
■^-g. By comparing the degrees mea¬
sured by Father Leisganic in Germany, with eight
others that have been measured in different latitudes,
I
ind, suppressing the degree in
La Labde finds •—•,
311
Lapland, which appears to err iu excess, A— for the
331
compression. La Place makes it
321
Sejour
3°7
and
lastly, Carouge and La Lande .
300
These anomalies have induced some astronomers, Supposed
especially M. de la Place, to give up the spheroidal fi-figure of
gure of the earth altogether, to suppose that it is notAie eai^u
a solid of revolution, and that its surface is a curve of
double curvature. Mr Playfair, on the other hand,
in an excellent dissertation on the subject, published in
the fifth volume of the Edinburgh Transactions, sup¬
poses, that the anomalies may be owing to the differ¬
ent densities of the strata fiear the surface where the
degrees were measured, occasioning errors in the mea¬
surement.
The position of the different places on the earth’s sur- j^tj/udes
face is determined by their distance from the equator, and longi-
called their latitude, and from a first meridian called tudes how
their longitude. The latitude is easily ascertained by oh-foun(l-
serving the height of the pole: The longitude is calcu¬
lated by observing some celestial phenomenon, as an
eclipse of Jupiter’s satellites at the same instant in two
places situated in different meridians. The difference in
point of apparent time in the two places, gives their di¬
stance east or west from each other, and consequently
the difference of their longitude ; for it is not noon at
the same time in all the different parts of the earth’s sur¬
face. When it is noon at London, it is only eleven
o’clock in all the places 150 west from London, while
it is one o’clock in all places 150 east from London.
Every 150 east or west causes the difference of an hour.
Hence the difference in time, when any celestial pheno¬
menon. is observed, gives us the distance east and west,
or in longitude, between the places where it is obser-
ved.
The eclipses of Jupiter’s satellites are of the greatest
service in determining the longitude of places on this
earth, astronomers therefore have been at great pains
to calculate tables for the eclipses of these satellites by
their primary, for the satellites themselves have never
been observed to eclipse one another. The construc-
tioa e
SB
Apparent
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Codies.
Fig. <>?•
Philosophi¬
cal Maga¬
zine, vol.
xv. p. 97.
274
Mr Lowe’s
method of
finding the
longitude.
A S T B
tlon of such tallies is indeed much easier for these sa¬
tellites than of any other celestial bodies, as their mo¬
tions are much more regular.
The English tables are calculated for the meridian
1 of Greenwich, and by these it is very easy to find how
many degrees of longitude any place is distant either
east or west from Greenwich j for, let an observer,
who has these tables, with a good telescope and a well-
regulated clock at any other place of the earth, ob¬
serve the beginning or ending of an eclipse of one of
Jupiter’s satellites, and note the precise moment of time
that he saw the satellite either immerge into, or
emerge out of, the shadow, and compare that time with
the time shown by the tables for Greenwich : then 15
degrees dift’erence of longitude being allowed for every
hour’s difference of time, will give the longitude of that
place from Greenwich 3 and if there be any odd minutes
of time, for every minute a quarter of a degree, castor
west, must be allowed, as the time of observation is later
or earlier than the time shown by the tables. Such
eclipses are very convenient for this purpose at land, be¬
cause they happen almost every day 3 but are of no use
at sea, because the rolling of the ship hinders all nice
telescopical observations.
To explain this by a figure, let J be Jupiter, K, L,
M, N, his four satellites in the respective orbits, 1, 2,
3, 4 3 and let the earth be at F (suppose in November,
although that month is no otherwise material than to
find the earth readily in this scheme, where it is shown
in eight difierent parts of the orbit). Let Q be a
place on the meridian of Greenwich, R a place on
some other meridian eastward from Greenwich. Let
a person at R observe the instantaneous vanishing of
the first satellite K. into Jupiter’s shadow, suppose at
three o’clock in the morning; but by the tables he
finds the immersion of that satellite to be at midnight
at Greenwich ; he then can immediately determine,
that as there are three hours difference of time between
Q and K, and that R is three hours forwarder in rec¬
koning than Q, it must be 45 degrees of east longitude
from the meridian of Q. Were this method as practi¬
cable at sea as at land, any sailor might almost as easily,
and with equal certainty, find the longitude as the lati¬
tude.
From its impracticability, the seaman is obliged to
have recourse to other celestial phenomena, and the
most useful are the motions of the moon. On this sub¬
ject we shall satisfy ourselves with inserting the follow¬
ing observations of Mr Lowe, who has pointed out a
very simple method of ascertaining the longitude on
land.
Although the method of determining the difference
of longitude at sea from the lunar observations has
been accurately laid down by Dr Maskelyne and other
able nautical astronomers, it has, however, happened
that several writers on longitude and astronomy have,
in the course of the last twenty years, given rules for
finding the difference of longitude at land from the
moon’s transits, either so erroneous or imperfect, that
the adoption thereof might do a serious injury both to
navigation and geography : they have given examples-,
but no demonstrations 3 or at least such obscure and
imperfect ones, as prove that they had not a clear con¬
ception of the matter.
O N O M Y.
Part If
It is for these reasons that the following demonstra- Appard
tion of a rule both easy and accurate for finding the Motion’
difference of longitude is now proposed. The data are 0< ^
the observed increase of the moon’s right ascension in
passing from the first to the second meridian, and the
increase of the sun’s and moon’s right ascension in
twelve hours apparent time, which may be had from
the Nautical Almanack.
Demonstration.—Let the circle ABC represent the Fig. 97.
equator, P its pole, and A PD the first meridian, as
that of Greenwich. Suppose that the centres of the
sun, the moon, and a fixed star, are on that meridian at
the same moment of time as represented at A, and that
they move from thence to the westward with their re¬
spective velocities, the earth being considered as at rest.
Then, after twelve hours apparent time, the sun will
be at D, the opposite point to A, or 180° distant from
it 3 but the fixed star, moving in appearance over a
greater space than 1800 in twelve hours apparent time,
will be at E ; while the moon, with a motion appa¬
rently slower than the sun and the star, will appear af¬
ter twrelve hours at the point B, or on a meridian BP.
But ED is the distance of the sun from the star after
an interval of twelve hours apparent time, and EB the
distance of the moon, or, in other words, the increase
of their respective right ascensions: and since ED and
EB are known from the Nautical Almanack, if we
subtract the first from the last, we have DB, equal to
the difference between the increase of the sun’s and
moon’s right ascension in twelve hours apparent time.
Now the difference of longitude between the two me¬
ridians AP and BP is the arc A ,3 B, equal to A /3 D
less the arc DB 3 that is, equal to 18o° less the difl’er-
ence between the increase of the sun’s and moon’s right
ascension in twelve hours 3 and, since the increase of
the moon’s right ascension from the time of its passing
the meridian AP to the time of its passing BP is known
from observation, and equal to EB, we can make the
following proportion for finding the difference of longi¬
tude between any other two meridians, AP and /2 P,
from the observed increase of the moon’s right ascen¬
sion t fi.
As EB : A /3 D—DB :: s /3 : A ,3 the difference of
longitude ; or, in more familiar language, as the in¬
crease of the moon’s right ascension in twelve hours ap¬
parent time is to 1800 or 12 h. less the difference be¬
tween the increase of the sun’s and moon’s right ascen¬
sion in that time :: so is any other observed increase of
the moon’s right ascension between two meridians : to
their difference of longitude.
If the increase of the moon’s right ascension in 12
hours were uniform, or such that equal parts of it
would be, produced in equal times, the above rule
would be strictly accurate 3 but as that increase arises
from a motion continually accelerated or retarded, and
seldom uniform but for a short space of time, it will
therefore be necessary to find the mean increase of the
moon’s right ascension when it is at the intermediate
point between A and /3, in order to determine their dif¬
ference of longitude with the greatest precision ; and for
that purpose, Taylor’s Tables of Second Difference are
very useful.
Ao-w^/e.-—April the 8th, 1800, the transit of the
moon’s first limb was observed at the royal observato¬
ry
IL
ASTRO
A isrcnt ^ C^) > and, allowance being made for the error of
Mions the clock, its right ascension was
Add the time that the moon’s semi-
■diameter took to pass the meridian
H.
12
M.
35
Sec.
lS.22
8.38
Right ascension of the moon’s centre 12 36 26.6
On a meridian (/3) far to the west¬
ward, the transit of the moon’s first limb
was observed the same day, and being
reduced to the centre, its right ascen¬
sion was - _ .
12 47 56.7
Increase of right ascension between
A and /3. - - _ _
The increase of the moon’s right as¬
cension in 12 hours apparent time per
l he Nautical Almanack was
The increase of the sun’s in the same
time - - _
11
30.1
26
3
49^5
Difference - - . o 24 13.35
And 12 hours minus this difference is = 11 h. 35 m.
46.65 sec. j therefore, as 26 m. 3 sec. : 11 h. 35 m.
46.65 sec. :: 11 m. 30.1 sec.: to 5 h. 7 m. 12 sec. the
correct difference of longitude between A and /3.
By reducing the three terms to seconds, and using
logarithms, the operation is much shortened.
In a book published by Mr Mackay on longitude
about 15 or 16 years ago, there is a rule given, and
also an example, for finding the difference of longitude
at land from the transits of the moon, but no demon¬
stration.^ Ihe rule, when divested of its high-sounding
enunciation, runs thus: °
As the increase of the moon’s right ascension in 12
'hours apparent time : is to 180° :: so is any other ob¬
served increase between two meridians : to their differ¬
ence of longitude. It follows from this, that the moon
as well as the sun would, in 12 hours apparent time
pass over an arc of 1800, although the apparent mo¬
tion of the moon to the westward in 12 hours, or 1800
of space, be less than that of the sun by six or seven
degrees; and so much error would this method pro¬
duce, if the two places differed about 180° in loim.
tude. 0
The above example, wrought according to Mac-
kay’s rule, would come out thus :
\ s It- M. Sec.
As 26 m. 3 sec.: 12 li. :: 11 m. 30.1 sec. to 5 17 53.7
But the correct difference as above is 5 712
Error
o 10 41.7
which amounts to more than 2^°, or 150 miles, in a
difference of longitude little exceeding five hours.
Mr Edward Bigot adopts the very same rule-for de-
termimng the difference of longitude between Green-
wich and York, and states the result in the Philoso¬
phical transactions for 1785, p. 417.
Mr \ ince has inserted this rule and example in his
leatise of Practical Astronomy ; but we have to re¬
gret that they were not accompanied with a strict de¬
monstration.
N O M Y. g9
Fasciculus Astronomicus, published two or three years Apparent
ago, has given a rule, without demonstration or ex- Motions
ample, for finding the difference of longitude from the of the
moon’s transits, which produces the same error as I^ayeilly
Mackay’s and Pigot’s, although worded differently
from theirs. Mr Wollaston makes the first term of his
proportion apparent, and the third mean time? this
renders the result erroneous. Since the motions of the
sun, moon, and planets are computed for apparent
time, and given so in the Nautical Almanack, mean
time is not at all requisite for resolving the difference
of longitude either at sea or at land. We shall there¬
fore endeavour to apply Mr Wollaston’s rule, accord¬
ing to its literal meaning, for finding the difference of
longitude from the above observations.
. Th6 right ascension of the moon’s centre on the me¬
ridian of Greenwich being known, we can easily de¬
duce the mean and apparent time corresponding to it j
and in like manner the mean and apparent time at the
distant meridian /3. The apparent and mean time of
the transits of the moon’s centre over the meridians of
A and ,8, when strictly computed, were as follows:
Apparent Time. Mean Time.
. H- M. Sec. H. M. Sec.
ff 7- ‘ ’ H2647.81 112833.5
^ " ‘ 11 37 29-5 11 39 11.4
Time later at /3 than at A
Erom the increase of
the moon’s right ascen¬
sion in 12 hours
Subtract the increase
of the sun’s right ascen¬
sion in that time
O 10 41.69 o 10 37.9
26
49-65
retarda-
24 13*35
moon’s retardation
m 12
to the
The Rev. Mr Wollaston, in the appendix to his
VoL. Ill, Part I. +
The moon’s
tion in 12 hours
l hen, “ As twice the
hours : is to 24 hours ::
“ So is the mean time later at £ than at A
difference of longitude west from A.”
. tAftf,r doulding 24 m. 13.25 sec. and also 12, which
is totally unnecessary, as the result would be the same
tion • St00Cl S1Dsle’ We State tIie ft>1Ilowing propor-
As 48 m. 26.7 sec. : 34 h. :: 10 m. 37.9 sec. to 5I1.
15 m. 1.3 sec. the difference of longitude between A
and /3.
. But as the third term is improperly reduced to mean
time, we shall take the apparent time above found,
and then 48 m. 26.7 sec. : 24 h. :: 10 m. 41.69 sec. to
5 h. 17 m. 53.7 sec.; the same as results from Mac¬
kay’s and Pigot’s rules.
We shall only remark, that 5 h. 17 m. 53.7 sec. is
the apparent time that the moon took in passing from
the meridian of A to the meridian of /3 ; but from what
has been demonstrated, the apparent time at /3 will be
equal to the difference between the increase of the sun’s
and moon’s right ascension in that interval of apparent
time; for DB, or 24 m. 13.35 sec. is the difference
tor 12 hours, and therefore by proportion 2/3, or 10 m.
41.69 sec. will be the difference for 5 h. 17 m. 53.7 sec.*
subtracting the former from the latter, we have 5 h!
7 m. 12 sec. the difference of longitude as before, and
M
90
ASTRONOMY.
Part
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Apparent a clear proof that the authors above mentioned have
Motions omitted to deduct the apparent time at the distant place
or station /3, from the apparent time at Greenwich.
A very important fact relative to the earth has been
ascertained by astronomers, namely, that the weight of
bodies does not continue the same when carried to dif¬
ferent parts of it. It is impossible to ascertain this va¬
riation by the balance, because it affects equally the
bodies weighed and the weight by which wTe estimate
its gravity. But the pendulum affords a certain me¬
thod of detecting every such change 5 because the num¬
ber of oscillations made by a given pendulum in a
given time depends upon the force of gravity. The
smaller that force, the fewer vibrations will it make.
Therefore, if the force of gravity diminish, the pendulum
will move slower; if it decreases, it will oscillate with Appar«
more celerity. In different pendulums the slowness of Motior
vibration is proportional to the length of the pendulum : of the
If a pendulum be lengthened it moves slower, if it be
shortened it moves swifter than before. Mr Richer ■ ^ ^
in a voyage made to Cayenne, found that the pendu¬
lum of his clock did not vibrate so frequently there, as
it did when at Paris; but that it was necessary to short¬
en it by about the eleventh part of an inch to make it
vibrate in exact seconds. The nearer the equator a pen¬
dulum is placed it vibrates the slower, the nearer the
pole it is placed it vibrates the faster. Hence it fol¬
lows that the force of. gravity is greatest at the poles,
and that it gradually diminishes as we approach the
equator, where it is smallest.
'limp
inn tin
ilia!
■anc'
! Mr-
275
Argument
for the
earth’s mo
tion from
its spheroi¬
dal figure.
PART III. OF THE REAL MOTIONS OF THE HEAVENLY BODIES.
WE have now enumerated and explained the ap¬
parent motions of the heavenly bodies. Nothing can
appear more intricate and perplexed, or more remote
from what we are accustomed to consider as the sim¬
plicity of nature. Hence mankind have in all ages
been tempted to consider them as merely apparent, and
not real; and the object of astronomers has always been
to detect the real motions of the heavenly bodies from
those which they exhibit to the eye of a spectator on
the earth. Neither industry nor address was spared to
gain this desirable end. Hypothesis was formed after
hypothesis ; every new supposition was a step towards
the truth ; and at last the real motions have not only
been ascertained but demonstrated in the most satisfac¬
tory manner. It shall be our object in this part of our
treatise to lay before our readers the result of these dis-
Chap. I. Of the Rotation of the Earth.
lar regions : for as the equatorial parts move quickest,
they will recede farthest from the axis of motion, and
enlarge the equatorial diameter. That our earth is
really of this figure, is demonstrable from the unequal
vibrations of a pendulum, and the unequal lengths of
degrees in different latitudes. Since then the earth is
higher at the equator than at the poles, the sea, which
naturally runs downward, or towards the places which
are nearest the centre, would run towards the polar re¬
gions, and leave the equatorial parts dry, if the cen¬
trifugal force of these parts, by which the waters were
carried thither, did not keep them from returning.
The earth’s equatorial diameter is 36 miles longer than
its axis.
Bodies near the poles are heavier than those towards yygfght
the equator, because they are nearer the earth’s centre, bodies
where the whole force of the earth’s attraction is accu-nicreasi
mulated. They are also heavier, because their centri-t0,jvar^
276
fugal force is less, on account of their diurnal motion
poles.
We find that the sun, and those planets on which
there are visible spots, turn round their axis: for the
spots move regularly over their disks (b). Fronl hence
we may reasonably conclude, that the other planets on
which we see no spots, and the earth, which is likewise
a planet, have such rotations. But being incapable of
leaving the earth, and viewing it at a distance, and its
rotation being smooth and uniform, we can neither see
it move on its axis as we do the planets, nor feel our¬
selves affected by its motion. Yet there is one effect of
such a motion, which will enable us to judge with cer¬
tainty whether the earth revolves on its axis or not.
All globes which do not turn round their axis will be
perfect spheres, on account of the equality of the weight
of bodies on their surfaces 5 especially of the fluid parts.
But all globes which turn on their axis will be oblate
spheroids 5 that is, their surfaces will be higher or far¬
ther from the centre in the equatorial than in the po-
being slower. For both these reasons, bodies carried
from the poles towards the equator gradually lose
their weight. Experiments prove, that a pendulum
which vibrates seconds near the poles vibrates slower
near the equator, which shows that it is lighter or less
attracted there. To make it oscillate in the same time
it is found necessary to diminish its length. By com¬
paring the different lengths of pendulums swinging
seconds at the equator and at London, it is found
that a pendulum must be ‘I-ttsSo lines shorter at the
equator than at the poles. A line is a twelfth part of
an inch.
If the earth turned round its axis in 84 minutes 43
seconds, the centrifugal force would be equal to the
powrer of gravity at the equator j and all bodies there
would entirely lose their weight. If the earth revolved
quicker, they would all fly off and leave it.
A person on the earth can no more be sensible of its
undisturbed motion on its axis, than one in the cabin
of
(b) This, however, must be understood with some degree of limitation, as will evidently appear from what
has been already said concerning the variable motion both of the spots of the sun and planets.
bn
•after
* !ctiou
" wete,
irtFft III.
ASTRO
:77
Eiih’s mo-
eal of a ship on smooth water can be sensible of the ship’s
lli (lotions motion, when it turns gently and uniformly round. It
the js therefore no argument against the earth’s diurnal mo-
R8 Tdies^ ^on ^ia*' we no^ ^ ’ nor ^ie aPParent revolu-
■ tions of the celestial bodies every day a proof of the rea¬
lity of these motions ; for whether we or they revolve,
the appearance is the very same. A person looking
through the cabin windows of a ship, as strongly fancies
the objects on land to go round when the ship turns as
if they were actually in motion.
If we could translate ourselves from planet to planet,
tio: proved we should still find that the stars would appear of the
rro: the same magnitudes, and at the same distances from each
3«tialap-0ther as they do to us here ; because the width of the
ISdiffer- remotest planet’s orbit bears no sensible proportion to
;nt<’lanets. the distance of the stars. But then the heavens would
seem to revolve about very dilFerent axes ; and conse¬
quently, those quiescent points, which are our poles in
the heavens, would seem to revolve about other points,
which, though apparently in motion as seen from the
earth, would be at rest as seen from any other planet.
Thus the axis of Venus, which lies at right angles to
the axis of the earth, would have its motionless poles
in two opposite points of the heavens lying almost in
our equinoctial, where the motion appears quickest*
because it is seemingly performed in the greatest circle :
and the very poles, which are at rest to us, have the
quickest motion of all as seen from Venus. To Mars
and Jupiter the heavens appear to turn round with
very dilFerent velocities on the same axis, whose poles
are about 234 degrees from ours. Were we on Jupi¬
ter, we should be at first amaied at the rapid motion of
the heavens $ the sun and stars going round in 9 hours
56 minutes. Could we go from thence to Venus, we
should be as much surprised at the slowness of the hea¬
venly motions ; the sun going but once round in 584
hours, and the stars in 540. And could we go from
Venus to the moon, we should see the heavens turn
round with a yet slower motion 5 the sun in 708 hours,
the stars in 655. As it is impossible these various cir¬
cumvolutions in such different times, and on such dif¬
ferent axes, can be real, so it is unreasonable to suppose
the heavens to revolve about our earth more than it
does about any other planet. When we reflect on the
vast distance of the fixed stars, to which 190,000,000
of miles, the diameter of the earth’s orbit, is but a
point, we are filled with amazement at the immensity
of the distance. But if we try to frame an idea of
the extreme rapidity with which the stars must move,
if they move round the earth in 24 hours, the thought
becomes so much too big for our imagination, that we
can no more conceive it than we do infinity or eternity.
If the sun was to go round the earth in 24 hours, he
must travel upwards of 300,000 miles in a minute: but
the stars being at least 400,000 times as far from the
sun as the sun is from us* those about the equator must
move 400,000 times as quick. And all this to serve
no other purpose than what can be as fully and much
more simply obtained by the earth’s turning round
eastward as on an axis, eveiy 24 hours, causing there¬
by an apparent diurnal motion of the sun westward,
and bringing about the alternate returns of day and
^ J*8 night.
jetton ^ common objections against the earth’s
s.n»wrej motion on its axis, they are all easily answered and set
>!
N O M Y.
aside. That it may turn without being seen or felt
by us to do so, has been already shown. But some
are apt to imagine, that if the earth turns eastward (as
it certainly does if it turns at all), a ball fired perpen¬
dicularly upward in the air must fall considerably west¬
ward of the place it was projected f rom. The objec¬
tion which at first seems to have some weight, will be
found to have none at all, when we consider that the
gun and ball partake of the earth’s motion j and there¬
fore the ball being carried forward with the air as
quick as the earth and air turn, must fall down on the
same place. A stone let fall from the top of a main¬
mast, if it meets with no obstacle, falls on the deck as
near the foot of the mast when the ship sails as when it
does not. If an inverted bottle full of liquor be hung
up to the ceiling of the cabin, and a small hole be made
in the cork, to let the liquor through on the floor, the
drops will fall just as far forward on the floor when the
ship sails as when it is at rest. And gnats or flies can
as easily dance among one another in a moving cabin
as in a fixed chamber. As for those Scripture expres¬
sions which seem to contradict the earth’s motion, this
general answer may be made to them all, viz. it is
plain from many instances, that the Scriptures were ne¬
ver intended to instruct us in philosophy or astronomy;
and therefore on those subjects expressions are not al¬
ways to be taken in the literal sense, but for the most
part as accommodated to the common apprehensions
of mankind. Men of sense in all ages, when not treat¬
ing of the sciences purposely, have followed this me¬
thod : and it would be in vain to follow any other in
addressing ourselves to the vulgar, or bulk of any com¬
munity.
Chap. II. Of the Revolution of the Planets round
the Sun.
The apparent motions of the planets lead us to con¬
clude that they all move in orbits nearly circular round
the sun, while the sun moves round the earth : that the
orbits of Venus and Mercury are nearer the sun than
the earth; but the orbits of the other planets include
the earth within them. All the apparent motions are
reconcilable to this opinion, and lead us to form it. It
removes all the inexplicable intricacy of their apparent
motions.
But the earth itself is a planet, and bears a very exact
resemblance to the rest. Shall we suppose all the other
planets to revolve round the sun while it alone remains
stationary P Or shall we suppose that the earth, like the
other planets, revolves round the sun in the course of a
year ? The phenomena in both cases will be exactly the
same, but the motion of the earth will reduce the whole
system to the greatest simplicity, whereas the motion of
the sun carrying with it the revolving planets would
leave the whole complicated and involved. Various
opinions on this subject have been maintained by astro¬
nomers.
Concerning the opinion of the very first astronomers
about the system of nature, we are necessarily as igno¬
rant as we are of those astronomers themselves. "What¬
ever opinions are handed down to us, must be of a vast¬
ly later date than the introduction of astronomy a-
mong mankind. If we may hazard a conjecture, how¬
ever, we are inclined to think that the first opinions
M 2 on
9t
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
92
Real
Motions
of the,
Heavenly
Bodies.
279
on this subject were much more just than those that
were held afterwards for many ages. We are told
that Pythagoras maintained the motion of the earth,
which is now universally believed, but at that time
appears to have been the opinion of only a few detach-
^ individuals of Greece. As the Greeks borrowed
Pythasore- many things from the Egyptians, and Pythagoras had
^ c 1 travelled into Egypt and Phenice, it is probable he
might receive an account of this hypothesis from
thence 1 but whether he did so or not, we have
now no means of knowing, neither is it of any im¬
portance whether he did or not. Certain it is, how¬
ever, that this opinion did not prevail in his days, nor
for many ages after. In the second century after Christ,
the very name of the Pythagorean hypothesis was sup-
280'' pressed by a system erected by the famous geographer
Suppressed and astronomer Claudius Ptolemaeus. This system,
t»y the Pto- which commonly goes by the name of the Ptolemaic,
ASTRONOMY.
281
Ptolemy’s
system in¬
sufficient.
he seems not to have originally invented, but adopted
as the prevailing one of that age j and perhaps made
it somewhat more consistent than it was before. He
supposed the earth at rest in the centre of the universe.
Round the earth, and the nearest to it of all the hea¬
venly bodies, the moon performed its monthly revolu¬
tions. Next to the moon was placed the planet Mer¬
cury j then Venus ; and above that the sun, Mars, Ju¬
piter, and Saturn, in their proper orbits 5 then the
sphere of the fixed stars •, above these, two spheres of
what he called crystalline heavens j. above these was
the primum mobile, which, by turning round once, in
24 hours, by some unaccountable means or other, car^
ried all the rest along with it. This primum mobile was
encompassed by the empyrean heaven, which was of a
cubic form, and the seat of angels and blessed spirits.
Besides the motions of all the heavens round the earth
once in 24 hours, each planet was supposed to have a
particular motion of its own ; the moon, for instance,
once in a month, performed an additional revolution,
the sun in a year, Sec. See fig. 98.
It is easy to see, that, on this supposition, the con¬
fused motions of the planets already described could
never be accounted for. Had they circulated uniform¬
ly round the earth, their apparent motion ought always
to have been equal and uniform, without appearing
either stationary or retrograde in any part of their
courses. In consequence of this objection, Ptolemy
was obliged to invent a great number of circles, inter¬
fering with each other, which he called epicycles and
eccentrics. These proved a ready and effectual salvo for
all the defects of his system ; as, whenever a planet was
deviating from tlie course it ought on his plan to have
followed, it was then only moving in an epicycle or an
eccentric, and would in due time fall into its proper
path. As to the natural causes by which the planets
were directed to move in. these epicycles and eccentrics,
it is no wonder that he found himself much at a loss,
and was obliged to have recourse to divine power for
an explanation, or, in other words, to own that his
system was unintelligible.
This system continued to be in vogue till the begin-
rean system ning of the 16th century, when Nicolaus Copernicus,
revived by a native of Thorn (a city of Regal Prussia), and a man
opeuucus. great abilities, began to try whether a more satis¬
factory manner of accounting for the apparent motions
of ^the heavenly bodies could not he obtained than was
1
282
Pythago-
Rea]
Motion!
of tlie
he 'S
Part II
afforded by the Ptolemaic hypothesis. He had recourse
to every author upon the subject, to see whether any bad
been more consistent in explaining the irregular mo¬
tions of the stars than the mathematical schools : but he
received no satisfaction, till he found first from Cicero,
that Nicetas the Syracusan had maintained the motion
of the earth 5 and next from Plutarch, that others of
the ancients had been of the same opinion. From the
small hints he could obtain from the ancients, Coperni¬
cus then deduced a most complete system, capable of
solving every phenomenon in a satisfactory manner.
■From him his system hath ever afterwards been called
the Copernican, and is represented fig. 99. Here the
sun is supposed to be in the centre j next him revolves
the planet Mercury ; then Venus ; next, the Earth,
with the Moon : beyond these, Mars, Jupiter, and Sa¬
turn j and far beyond the orbit of Saturn, he supposed
the fixed stars to be placed, which formed the bound¬
aries of the visible creation. g
Though this hypothesis afforded the only natural andTychonic
satisfactory solution of the phenomena which so muebsystem.
perplexed Ptolemy’s system, it met with great opposi¬
tion at first j which is not to be wondered at, consider¬
ing the age in which he lived. Even the famous astro¬
nomer Tycho Brahe could never assent to the earth’s
motion, which was the foundation of Copernicus’s
scheme. He therefore invented another system, where-Fig. 100,
by he avoided the ascribing of motion to the earth,
and at the same time got clear of the difficulties with
which Ptolemy was embarrassed. In this system, the
earth was supposed the centre of the orbits of the sun
and moon j but the sun was supposed to be the centre
of the orbits of the five planets ; so that the sun with
all the planets were by Tycho Brahe supposed to turn
round the earth, in order to save the motion of the
earth round its axis once in 24 hours.. This system was
never much followed, the superiority of the Copernican
scheme being evident at first sight.
The sun is so immensely bigger and heavier than the
earth, that, if he was moved out of his place, not only
the earth, but all the other planets, if they were united
into one mass, would be carried along with the sun as
the pebble would be with the mill-stone.
By considering the law of gravitation, which takes From the
place throughout the solar system, in another light, it proportion'
will lie evident that the earth moves round the sun in aal decreas
year, and not the sun round the earth. It has been ^ gra1"tj!
observed, that the power of gravity decreases as the&C'
square of the distance increases ; and from this it fol¬
lows with mathematical certainty, that when two or
more bodies move round another as their centre of mo¬
tion, the squares of their periodic times will be to one
another in the same proportion as the cubes of their
distances from the central body. This holds precisely
with regard to the planets round the sun, and the sa¬
tellites round the planets 5 the relative distances of all
wlneh are well known. But, if we suppose the sun to.
move round the earth, and compare its period with the
moon’s by the above rule, it will be found that the
sun would take no less than 173.510 days to move
round the earth 5 in which case ©ur year would be 475
times as long as it now is. To this we may add, that
the aspects of increase and decrease of the planets, the
times of their seeming to stand still, and to move direct
and retrograde, answer precisely to the earth’s motion •,
but
Fa
lie*
Ik
djectii
8 Son
ired.
284
Real
Motions
of the
:eavenly
Bodies.
'art III.
bat not at all to the sun’s without introducing the most
absurd and monstrous suppositions, which would destroy
all harmony, order, and simplicity, in the system.
Moreover, if the earth be supposed to stand still, and
j the stars to revolve in free spaces about the earth in 24
hours, it is certain that the forces by which the stars
revolve in their orbits are not directed to the earth, but
to the centres of the several orbits ; that is, of the se¬
veral parallel circles which the stars on different sides
of the equator describe every day ; and the like infe¬
rences may be drawn from the supposed diurnal mo¬
tion of the planets, since they are never in the equinoc¬
tial but twice in their courses with regard to the starry
heavens. But, that forces should be directed to no
central body, on which they physically depend, but
to innumerable imaginary points in the axis of the
earth produced to the poles of the heavens, is an hypo¬
thesis too absurd to be allowed of by any rational
creature. And it is still more absurd to imagine that
these forces should increase exactly in proportion to
the distances from this axis •, for this is an indication
of an increase to infinity j whereas the force of attrac¬
tion is found to decrease in receding from the fountain
from whence it flows. But the farther any star is from
the quiescent pole, the greater must be the orbit which
it describes j and yet it appears to go round in the same
time as the nearest star to the pole does. And if we
take into consideration the twofold motion observed in
the stars, one diurnal round the axis of the earth in 24
hours, and the other round the axis of the ecliptic in
25>920 years, it would require an explication of such
a perplexed composition of forces, as could by no means
be reconciled with any physical theory,
si , T!ie strongest objections that can be made against
X e ^ eart^’s motion round the sun is, that in opposite
ASTRONOMY.
when the eye comes to A, is at C when the eye is at Real
9?
28s
Orations
niton an- pomts of the earth’s orbit, its axis, which always keeps
*wied
S6
Rail’s
nioibn de-
mowrated
fromthe
alienation
•t' blit.
a parallel direction, would point to different fixed starsj
which is not found to be fact. But this objection is
easily removed, by considering the immense distance of
the stars in respect of the diameter of the earth’s orbit $
the latter being no more than a point when compared
to the former. If we lay a ruler on the side of a table,
and along the edge of the ruler view the top of a spire
at tei> miles distance j then lay the ruler on the oppo¬
site side of the table in a parallel situation to what it had
before, and the spire will still appear along the edge of
the ruler 5 because our eyes, even when assisted by the
best instruments, are incapable of distinguishing so small
a change at so great a distance.
Dr Bradley, our late astronomer-royal, found by a
long series of the most accurate observations, that there
is a small apparent motion of the fixed stars, occasioned
by the aberration of their light j and so exactly an¬
swering to an annual motion of the earth, as evinces
the same, even to a mathematical demonstration. He
considered this matter in the following manner: he
imagined CA, fig. 101. to be a ray of light falling per¬
pendicularly upon the line BD j that, if the eye is at
rest at A, the object must appear in the direction AC,
whether light be propagated in time or in an instant.
But if the eye is moving from B towards A, and light
is propagated in time, with a velocity that is to the
velocity of the eye as CA to BA j then light mo¬
ving from C to A, whilst the eye moves from B to A,
that particle of it by which, the object will be discerned
B. Joining the points BC, he supposed the line CB Motions
to be a tube, inclined to the line BD in the angle °rtIie
DBC, of such diameter as to admit but one particle ^odies^
of light. Then it was easy to conceive, that the par- ■ 'Y■■
tide ot light, at C, by which the object must be seen,
when the eye, as it moves along, arrives at A, would
pass through the tube BC, if it is inclined to BD, in
the angle DBC, and accompanies the eye in its mo¬
tion from B to A j and that it could not come to the
eye placed behind such a tube, if it had any other in¬
clination to the line BD. If, instead of supposing CB
so small a tube, we imagine it to be the axis of a lar¬
ger , then, for the same reason, the particle of light at
C wrould not pass through the axis, unless it is inclined,
to BD in the angle CBD. In like manner, if the eye
moved the contrary way, from D towards A, with
the same velocity, then the tube must be inclined ia
the angle BCD. Although, therefore, the true or real
place ol an object is perpendicular to the line in which
the eye is moving, yet the visible place will not be so j.
since that, no doubt, must be in the direction of the
tube j hut the difference betw’een the true and appa¬
rent place w'ill be cceteris? paribus greater or less, ac¬
cording to the different proportion between the velo¬
city of light and that of the eye. So that, if we could
suppose that light was propagated in an instant, then
there would be no difference between the real and vir
sible place of an object, although the eye was in mo¬
tion , for in that case, AC being infinite with respect
to AB, the angle ACB, the difl’erence between the
true and visible place, vanishes. But if light be pro¬
pagated in time, it is evident, from the foregoing con¬
siderations, that there will be always a- difference be¬
tween the real and visible place of an object, unless.
the eye is moving either directly towards or from the
object. And in all cases the sine of the difference be¬
tween the real and visible place of the object will be to
the sine of the visible inclination of the object to the-
line in which the eye is moving, as the velocity of the
eye is to the velocity of light.
Pie then shows,, that if the earth revolve round the
sun annually, and the velocity of light be to the velo¬
city ol the earth’s motion in its orbit, as 1000 to 1,
that a star really placed in the very pole of the ecliptic
would, to an eye carried along with the earth, seem
to change its place continually j and, neglecting the
small difference on the account of the earth’s diurnal !
levolution on its axis, would seem to describe a circle
round that pole every way distant from it 3J J so that
its longitude would be varied through all the points of
the ecliptic every year, but its latitude would always
remain the same. Its right ascension would also change 5.
and its declination, according to the different situation,
of the sun with respect to the equinoctial points, and.
its apparent distance from the north pole of the equa¬
tor, would be 7' less at the autumnal than at the vernal
equinox. _ ^
By calculating exactly the quantity of aberration Telocity of
of the fixed stars from their place, he found that light^U
came from the sun to us in 8' 13" 5 so that its velo¬
city is to the velocity of the earth in its orbit as I0,2QX.ErrOrsfa
° t ’ 1 , * the obser-
It must here be taken notice of, however, that Mr vation of
Nevil Maskelyne, in attempting to find the parallax ofimal1 aE'*‘
Sirius,
94
ASTRONOMY
Part HI
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies-
289
Another
objection
against the
earth’s mo¬
tion an¬
swered.
290
Diurnal
motion of
the earth,
and differ¬
ent chan¬
ges of the
seasons il¬
lustrated
by experi¬
ment.
Fig. ro2.
Sirius, with a ten-feet sector, observed, that by the fric¬
tion of the plummet-line on the pin which suspended it,
an error of 10", 20", and sometimes 30", was committed.
The pin was ^ of an inch diameter j and though he re¬
duced it to of an inch, the error still amounted to 3".
All observations, therefore, that have hitherto been
made in order to discover the parallax of the fixed stars
are to be disregarded.
It is also objected, that the sun seems to change his
place daily, so as to make a tour round the starry hea¬
vens in a year. But whether the sun or earth moves,
this appearance will be the same ; for when the earth
is in any part of the heavens, the sun will appear in
the opposite. And, therefore, this appearance can be
no objection against the motion of the earth.
It is well known to every person who has sailed on
smooth water, or been carried by a stream in a calm,
that, however fast the vessel goes he does not feel its
progressive motion. The motion of the earth is in¬
comparably more smooth and uniform than that of a
ship, or any machine made and moved by human art;
and therefore it is not to be imagined that we can feel
its motion.
The following experiment will give a plain idea of
the diurnal or annual motions of the earth, together
with the different length of days and nights, and all
the beautiful variety of seasons, depending on those
motions.
Take about seven feet of strong wire, and bend it
into a circular form, as a b c d, which being viewed
obliquely appears elliptical, as in the figure. Place a
lighted candle on a table ; and having fixed one end of
a silk thread K to the north pole of a small terrestrial
globe H, about three inches diameter, cause another
person to hold the wire circle, so that it may be paral¬
lel to the table, and as high as the flame of the candle
I, which should be in or near the centre. Then hav¬
ing twisted the thread as towards the left hand, that
by untwisting it may turn the globe round eastward,
or contrary to the way that the hands of a watch move,
hang the globe by the thread within this circle, al¬
most contiguous to it j and as the thread untwists, the
globe (which is enlightened half round by the candle
as the earth is by the sun) will turn round its axis, and
the difterent places upon it will be carried through the
light and dark hemispheres, and have the appearance
of a regular succession of days and nights, as our earth
has in reality by such a motion. As the globe turns,
move your hand slowly, so as to carry the globe round
the candle according to the order of the letters abed,
keeping its centre even with the wire circle ; and you
will perceive, that the candle, being still perpendicular
to the equator, will enlighten the globe from pole to
pole in its whole motion round the circle ; and that
every place on the globe goes equally through the
light and the dark, as it turns round by the untwist¬
ing of the thread, and therefore has a perpetual equi¬
nox. The globe thus turning round, represents the
earth turning round its axis : and the motion of the
globe round the candle represents the earth’s annual
motion round the sun*, and shows, that if the earth’s
orbit had no inclination to its axis, all the days and
nights of the year would be equally long, and there
would be no different seasons. Hence also it appears
why the planets Mars and Jupiter have a perpetual
3
equinox, namely, because the axis is perpendicular to
the plane of their orbit, as the thread round which the
globe turns in this experiment is perpendicular to the
plane of the area enclosed by the wire.—But now de¬
sire the person who holds the wire to hold it obliquely
in the position ABCD, raising the side as just as much
as he depresses the side >j>, that the flame may be still
in the plane of the circle; and twisting the thread as
before, that the globe may turn round its axis the same
way as you carry it round the candle, that is, from
west to east j let the globe down into the lowermost
part of the wire circle at yf : and, if the circle be pro¬
perly inclined, the candle will shine perpendicularly
on the tropic of Cancer} and the frigid zone, lying
within the arctic or north polar circle, will be all in
tbe light, as in the figure ; and will keep in the light,
let the globe turn round its axis ever so often. From
the equator to the north polar circle, all the places have
longer days and shorter nights } but from the equator
to the south polar circle, just the reverse. The sun
does not set to any part of the north frigid zone, as
shown by the candle’s shining on it, so that the motion
of the globe can carry no place of that zone into the
dark ; and at the same time the south frigid zone is
involved in darkness, and the turning of the globe
brings none of its places into the light. If the earth
w*ere to continue in the like part of its orbit, the sun
would never set to the inhabitants of the north frigid
zone, nor rise to those of the south. At the equator it
would be always equal day and night j and as places are
gradually more and more distant from the equator to¬
wards the arctic circle, they would have longer days
and shorter nights ; while those on the south side of the
equator would have their nights longer than their days.
In this case, there would be continual summer on the
north side of the equator, and continual winter on the
south side of it.
But as the globe turns round its axis, move your
hand slowly forward, so as to carry the globe from H
towards E, and the boundary of light and darkness
will approach towards the north pole, and recede from
the south pole 5 the northern places will go through
less and less of the light, and the southern places
through more and more of it $ showing how the north¬
ern days decrease in length and the southern days in¬
crease, whilst the globe proceeds from H to E. When
the globe is at E, it is at a mean state between the
lowest and highest parts of its orbit; the candle is di¬
rectly over the equator, the boundary of light and dark¬
ness just reaches to both the poles, and all places on
the globe go equally through the light and dark hemi¬
spheres, showing that the days and nights are then equal
at all places of the earth, the poles only excepted ; for
the sun is then setting to the north pole and rising to
the south pole.
Continue moving the globe forward, and as it goes
through the quarter A, the north pole recedes still far¬
ther into the dark hemisphere, and the south pole ad¬
vances more into the light, as the globe comes nearer
to ss : and when it comes there at F, the candle is
directly over the tropic of Capricorn ; the days are at
the shortest and nights at the longest, in the northern
hemisphere, all the way from the equator to the arctic
circle ; and the reverse in the southern hemisphere
from the equator to the antarctic circle j within which
circles
Real I R(
Motions M01
of the I of
Heavenly
Bodies,
191
Feren
.bBS[
silarly
lake
alak
I 5. 10!
iflirt III. ASTRONOMY.
Keal circles it is dark to the north frigid zone, and light to
lotions
'At : of the
the south.
Continue both motions; and as the globe moves
3(li' through the quarter B, the north pole advances to-
■y> ic—y—wards the light, and the south pole recedes towards the
dark ; the days lengthen in the northern hemisphere
and shorten in the southern j and when the globe conies
to G, the candle will be again over the equator (as
when the globe was at E), and the days and nights
will again be equal as formerly 5 and the north pole
will be just coming into the light, the south pole going
out of it.
Thus we see the reason why the days lengthen and
shorten from the equator to the polar circles every
year; why there is sometimes no day or night for
many turnings of the earth, within the polar circles ;
why there is but one day and one night in the whole
year at the poles j and why the days and nights are
equally long all the year round at the equator, which,
is always equally cut by the circle bounding light and
darkness.
The inclination of an axis or orbit is merely relative,
because we compare it with some other axis or orbit
which we consider as not inclined at all. Thus, our
horizon being level to us, whatever place of the earth
we are upon, we consider it as having no inclination j
and yet, if we travel 90 degrees from that place, we
shall then have a horizon perpendicular to the former j
but it will still be level to us.
Let us now take a view of the earth in its annual
sat •L,ei us now taKe a view ot the earth in its annual
Bpar-course round the sun, considering its orbit as having no
ly inclination j and its axis as inclining 23J degrees from
291
n'ereat
se.oBs _
tiorlarly  f    & ^ ^  
cxlamed' a line perpendicular to the plane of its orbit, and keep
ing the same oblique direction in all parts of its annual
course 5 or, as commonly termed, keeping always pa-
t rallel to itself.
Ioa’ Let g, b, r, d, e, f g, h, be the earth in eight differ¬
ent parts of its orbit, equidistant from one another,;
N s its axis, N its north pole, s its south pole, and S
the sun nearly in the centre of the earth’s 01 bit. As
the earth goes round the sun according to the order of
the letters abed, &c. its axis N s keeps the same ob¬
liquity, and is still parallel to the line MN s. When
the earth is at a, its north pole inclines towards the
sun S, and brings all the northern places more into the
light, than at any other time of the year. But when
the earth is at e in the opposite time of the year, the
north pole declines from the sun, which occasions the
northern places to be more in the dark than in the
light, and the reverse at the southern places ; as is evi¬
dent by the figure which is taken from Dr Long’s
astronomy. When the earth is either at c or g, its
axis inclines not either to or from the sun, but lies side-
wise to him, and then the poles are in the boundary of
light and darkness ; and the sun, being directly over
the equator, makes equal day and night at all places.
When the earth is at b, it is half-way between the
summer solstice and harvest equinox ; when it is at d
it is half-way from the harvest equinox to the winter
solstice ; at^, half- way from the winter solstice to the
spring equinox ; and at h, half-way from the spring
equinox to the summer solstice.
From this oblique view of the earth’s orbit, let us
suppose ourselves to be raised far above it, and placed
just over its centre S, looking down upon it from its
north pole ; and as the earth’s orbit differs but very
little from a circle, we shall have its figure in such a
view represented by the circle ABCDEFG. Let us
suppose this circle to be divided into 12 equal parts,
called signs, having their names affixed to them ; and
each sign into 30 equal parts, called degrees, number¬
ed 10, 20, 30, as in the outermost circle of the figure,
which represents the great ecliptic in the heavens.
Hie earth is shown in eight different positions in this
circle ; and in each position AE is the equator, T the
tropic of Cancer, the dotted circle the parallel of Lon¬
don, U the artic or north polar circle, and P the
north pole, where all the meridians or hour-circles
meet. As the earth goes round the sun, the north
pole keeps constantly towards one part of the heavens,
as it keeps in the figure towards the right-hand side of
the place.
When the earth is at the beginning of Libra, name¬
ly on the 20th of March, in this figure the sun S as
seen from the earth, appears at the beginning of A-
ries in the opposite part of the heavens, the north pole
is just coming into the light, and the sun is vertical to
the equator; which/ together with the tropic of Can¬
cer, parallel of London, and arctic circle, are alt
equally cut by the circle bounding light and darkness,
coinciding with the six-o’clock hour-circle, and there¬
fore the days and nights are equally long at all places:
for every part of the meridian AETL a comes into the
light at six in the morning, and, revolving with the
earth according to the order of the hour-letters, goes
into the dark at six in the evening. There are 24 me¬
ridians or hour-circles drawn on the earth in this figure,
to show the time of sun-rising and setting at different
seasons of the year.
As the earth moves in the ecliptic according to the
order of the letters ABCD, &c. through the signs
Libra, Scorpio, and Sagittarius, the north pole P
comes more and more into the light; the days increase
as the nights decrease in length, at all places north of
the equator JE.; which is plain by viewing the earth
at b on the 5th of May, when it is in the 15th degree
of Scorpio, and the sun as seen from the earth appears
in the 15th degree of Taurus. For then the tropic of
Cancer T is in the light from a little after five in the
morning till almost seven in the evening ; the parallel
of London, from half an hour past four till half an hour
past seven ; the polar circle U, from three till nine ;
and a large tract round the north pole P has day all
the 24 hours, for many rotations of the earth on its
axis.
When the earth comes to c (fig. 104.) at the be¬
ginning of Capricorn, and the sun as seen from the
earth appears at the beginning of Cancer, on the 21st of
June, as in this figure, it is in the position C in fig.
103. ; and its north pole inclines towards the sun, so
as to bring all the north frigid zone into the light,
and the northern parallels of latitude more into the
light than the dark from the equator to the polar cir¬
cle ; and the more so as they are farther from the equa¬
tor. The tropic of Cancer is in the light from five in
the morning till seven at night, the parallel of London
from a quarter before four till a quarter after eight ;
and the polar circle just touches the dark, so that the
sun has only the lower half of his disk hid from the in¬
habitants on that circle for a few minutes about mid-
night,;
Fig. 103.
gS
ASTRO
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
igz
Effects of
irigiit, supposing no Inequalities in the horizon, and no
refractions.
A bare view of the figure is enough to show, that as
the earth advances from Capricorn towards Aries, and
the sun appears to move from Cancer towards Libra,
the north pole recedes from the light, which causes
the days to decrease and the nights to increase in
length, till the earth comes to the beginning of Aries,
and then they are equal as before j for the boundary of
light and darkness cuts the equator and all its parallels
equally or in halves. The north pole then goes into the
dark, and continues therein until the earth goes half¬
way round its orbit; or, from the 23d of September
till the 20th of March. In the middle between these
times, viz. on the 22d of December, the north pole is
as far as it can be in the dark, which is 23I- degrees,
equal to the inclination of the earth’s axis from a per¬
pendicular to its orbit: and then the northern paral¬
lels are as much in the dark as they were in the light
on the 21st of June •, the winter nights being as long
as the summer days, and the winter days as short as the
summer nights. Here it must be noted, that of all that
has been said of the northern hemisphere, the contrary
must be understood of the southern : for on different
sides of the equator the seasons are contrary, because,
when the northern hemisphere inclines towards the sun,
the southern declines from him.
Taking it for granted, then, that the earth revolves
the earth’s round the sun, let us see what effect that motion has
thif a mar uPon ^ie aPParent motions of the other planets. For
ances^of tlie e better comprehending of these motions, however,
planets. we have hitherto supposed the earth to stand still in
some part of its orbit, while they go round the sun in
theirs : but as this is not the case, it now remains to
consider the changes which take place in consequence
of the earth’s motion. Were the earth to stand still in
any part of its orbit, as at A, the places of conjunction
both in the superior and inferior semicircle, as also of
the greatest elongation, and consequently the places
of direct and retrograde motion, and of the stations of
an inferior planet, would always be in the same part of
the heavens. Thus, in fig. 105. upon this supposition,
the places of Mercury’s stations would always be the
points P and JR, the arc of his motion PR, and of his
retrograde motion RP 5 whereas, on account of the
earth’s motion, the places where these appearances
happen are continually advancing forward in the eclip¬
tic according to the order of the signs. In fig. 106.
let ABCD be the orbit of the earth ; efg h that of
Mercury ; © the sun ; GKI an arch of the ecliptic ex¬
tended to the fixed stars. When the earth is at A,
the sun’s geocentric place is at F: and Mercury, in
order to a conjunction, must be in the line AF 5 that
is, in bis orbit be must be at j^or h. Suppose him to
be at f in his inferior semicircle : if the earth stood
still at A, his next conjunction would be when he is in
his superior semicircle at h ; the places of his greatest
elongation also would be at e and g, and in the eclip¬
tic at E and G : but supposing the earth to go on in
its orbit from A to B j the sun’s geocentric place is now
at K } and Mercury, in order to be in conjunction,
ought to be in the line BK at m. As by the motion
of the earth, the places of Mercury’s conjunctions with
the sun are thus continually carried round in the eclip¬
tic in consequence, so the places of his utmost elonga-
N O M Y.
Part Illijt]
tions must be carried in consequence also. Thus, when
the earth is at A, the places of his longest elongation
from the sun are in the ecliptic E and G ; the motion
of the earth from A to B advances them forward from
G to L and from E to I. But the geocentric mo¬
tion of Mercury will best be seen in fig. 107. Here
we have part of the extended ecliptic marked <V, & , n,
&c. in the centre of which S represents the sun, and
round him are the orbits of Mercury and the earth. The
orbit of Mercury is divided into 11 equal parts, such
as he goes through once in eight days5 ami the divi¬
sions are marked by numeral figures x, 2, 3, &c. Part
of the orbit of the earth is likewise divided into 22
equal arcs, each arc being as much as the earth goes
through in eight days. The points of division are
marked with the letters a, b, c, r/, e, J\ &c. and show
as many several stations from whence Mercury may be
viewed from the earth. Suppose then the planet to be
at I and the earth at a; draw a line from a to 1, and
it shows Mercury’s geocentric place at A. In eight
days he will be got to 2, and the earth to b; draw a
line from 2 to b, and it shows his geocentric place at B.
In other eight days he will have proceeded to 3, and the
earth to c ; a line drawn from 3 to c will show his geo¬
centric place at C. In this manner, going through
the figure, and drawing lines from the earth at cl, e,fg,
&c. through 4, 5, 6, 7, &c. we shall find his geocentric
places successively at the points D, E, F, G, &c. where
we may observe, that from A to B, and from B to C,
the motion is direct $ from C to D, and from D to E,
retrograde. In this figure 22 stations are marked in the
earth’s orbit, from whence the planet may be viewed 5
corresponding to which there ought to be as many in
the orbit of Mercury: and for this purpose the place
of that planet is marked at the end of every eight
days for two of his periodical revolutions j and to de¬
note this, two numeral figures are placed at each divi¬
sion.
The geocentric motion of Venus maybe explained in
a similar manner; only as the motion of Venus is much
slower than that of Mercury, his conjunctions, opposi¬
tions, elongations, and stations, all return much more
frequently than those of Venus.
To explain the stationary appearances of the planets,
it must be remembered, that the diameter of the earth’s
orbit, and even of that of Saturn, are but mere points
in comparison of the distance of the fixed stars j and
therefore, any two lines, absolutely parallel, though
drawn at the distance of the diameter of Saturn’s or¬
bit from each other, would, if continued to the fixed
stars, appear to us to terminate in the same point. Let,
then, the two circles, fig. 108. represent the orbits of
Venus and of the Earth j let the lines AE, BF, CG,
DH, he parallel to SP, we may nevertheless affirm,
that if continued to the distance of the fixed stars, they
would all terminate in the same point with the line SP.
Suppose, then, Venus at E while the earth is at A,
the visual ray by which she is seen is the line AE.
Suppose again, that while Venus goes from E to F,
the Earth goes from A to B, the visual ray by which
Venus is now seen is BF parallel to AE j and there¬
fore Venus will be all that time stationary appearing
in that point of the heaven where SP extended would
terminate : this station is at her changing from direct
to retrograde. Again, suppose, when the Earth is at
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenlyl
Bodies.
[ JtlOlli
1 ies.
pc
ml)
If
au'cc
,p!a.
(!•
tti
'll
t tnees
t ap-
l! dia-
• of
1 ncU
. in-
lie
ei-
n: III.
Bjil C, Venns is at G, and the visual line CG j if, while
astronomy.
97
I'Uiions the earth goes from C to I), Venus goes from G to
ve£ily H’ SC! t,iat slle is Seet! il1 the 1Jne GH to CG,
^■^ies. w'^ all that time stationary, appearing in the
P°‘nt where a line drawn from S through P would ter¬
minate. I his station is at her changing from retro-
^*3 grade to direct; and both are in her inferior semicir-
tSogee C*e’ . 4n 1,?teri?r Planet, when in conjunction with the
Lbpla- sun in Jts inferior semicircle, is said to be in perigee,
i aiKl in the other in apogee, on account of its different
PI. distances from the earth. Their real distances from
the earth when in perigee are variable, partly owing
to the eccentricities of their orbits, as well as that of
the earth ; and partly owing to the motions of the dif¬
ferent bodies, by which it happens that they are in pe¬
rigee in different parts of their orbits. The least pos¬
sible distance is when the perigee happens when the
earth is in its perihelion, and the planet in its aphe¬
lion.
(aces The difference of distance between the earth and
[?- inferior planets at different times, makes a considerable
variation in their apparent diameters, which indeed is
ets. very obseryable in all the planets; and thus they some¬
times look very considerably larger than at others. This
difference in magnitude in Mercury is nearly as to
i ; and in Venus, no less than ^2 to i. A. common,
spectator, unassisted by any instrument, may observe an
inferior planet alternately approach nearer and nearer
the sun, until at last it comes into conjunction with
him, and then to recede farther and farther till it is at
its greatest elongation, which will be first on one side
and then on the other: but if we observe the apparent
change of place of an inferior planet in the sphere of
the heavens, its direct motions, stations, and relrograda-
tions, measuring its diameter frequently with the micro¬
meter, ive shall find by its decrease at some times and in¬
crease at others, that its distance from us is very con¬
siderably varied; so that, taking the whole of its course
into consideration, it appears to move in a very compli¬
cated curve. See fig. 109.
As the superior planets move in a larger orbit than
the earth, they can only be in conjunction with the
sun when they are on that side opposite to the earth ;
as, on the other hand, they are in opposition to him
when the earth is between the sun and them. They
ate in quadrature with them when their geocentric
places are 90° distant from that of the sun. In order
to understand their apparent motions, we shall suppose
them to stand still in some part of their orbit while the
earth makes a complete revolution in hers ; in which
case, any superior planet would then have the follow¬
ing appearances : 1. While the earth is in her most
distant semicircle, the motion of the planet will be di¬
rect. 2. While the earth is in her nearest semicircle,
the planet will be retrograde. 3. While the earth is
near those places of its orbit where a line drawn from
the planet would be a tangent, it would appear to be
stationary. Thus, in fig. 147. let « f? c t/represent the
orbit of the earth ; S the Sun ; EFC an arc of the
orbit of Jupiter ; ABC an arc of the ecliptic projected
on the sphere of the fixed stars. Suppose Jupiter to
continue at F, while the earth goes round in her orbit
according to the order of the letters abed. While
the earth is in the semicircle most distant from Jupiter,
Vol. Ill, Part I. I
4
xpan-
ofilhe
Elf
iinlex-
<■!
going from a to £ and from b to r, his motion in the Rea]
heaven would appear direct, or‘from A to B and from Motions
B to C : but while the earth is in its nearest semicir- of the
cle c d e, the motion of Jupiter would appear retro- titaveniy
grade from C to B and from B to A ; for a, b, e, d, liwhes-
may be considered as so many different stations from
whence an inhabitant of the earth would view Jupiter
at difierent seasons of the year, and a straight line
drawn from each of these stations, through F the place
ol Jupiter, and continued to the ecliptic, would show
his apparent place there to be successively at A, B, C,
B, A. While the earth is near the points of contact
c and c, Jupiter would appear stationary, because the
visual ray drawn through both planets does not sensibly
difler from the tangent F c or F c. When the earth is
at b, a line drawn from /^through S and B' to the eclip¬
tic, shows Jupiter to be in conjunction with the sun at
B. When the earth is at d, a line drawn from d
through S, continued to the ecliptic, would termi¬
nate in a point opposite to B ; which shows Jupi¬
ter then to be in opposition to the sun : and thus
it appears tnat his motion is direct in the conjunc¬
tion, but retrograde when in opposition with the
sun.
I he direct motion of a superior planet is swifter the
nearer it is to a conjunction, and slower as it ap«
proaches to a quadrature with the sun. Thus, in fig.
in. let 0 be the sun; the little circle round it, the or¬
bit of the earth, whereof abc defg is the most distant
semicircle ; OPQ, an arc of the orbit of Jupiter ; and
ABCDEFG, an arc of the ecliptic in the sphere of
the fixed stars. If we suppose Jupiter to stand still at
P, by the earth’s motion from a to g, he would appear
to move direct from A to G, describing the unequal
arcs AB, BC, CD, DE, EF, FG, in equal times.
’* tlm earth is at d, Jupiter is in conjunction with
the sun at D, and there his direct motion is swiftest.
When the earth is in that part of her orbit where a
line drawn from Jupiter would touch it, as in the
points <? or g, Jupiter is nearly in quadrature with the
sun ; and the nearer the earth is to any of those points,
the slower is the geocentric motion of Jupiter ; for
the arcs CD and DE are greater than BC or EB\
and the arcs BC and EF are greater than AB or
FG.
The retrograde motion of a superior planet is swift¬
er the nearer it is to an opposition, and slower as it
approaches to a quadrature with the sun. Thus, let
©, fig. 112. be the sun ; the little circle round it the
01 bit of the earth, whereof g hi k Inin is the nearest
semicircle; OPQ, an arc of the orbit of Jupiter; NKG
an arc of the ecliptic: If we suppose Jupiter to stand
still at P, by the earth’s motion from g to 11, he would
appear to move retrograde from G to N, describing
the unequal arcs GH, HI, IK, KL, LM, MN,
in equal times. When the earth is at k, Jupiter ap¬
pears at K, in opposition to the sun, and there his re¬
trograde motion is swiftest. When the earth is either
at g or n, the points of contact of the tangents P g and
P ni Jupiter is nearly in quadrature with the sun : and
the nearer he is to either of these points, the slower is
his retrogradation ; for the arcs IK and KL are great¬
er than HI or LM; and the arcs HI and LM are
greater than GH or MN. Since the direct motion is
^ swiftest
98 ASTRONOMY.
Real swiftest when the earth Is at r/, and continues dlmlnlsh-
Motii ns hig till it changes to retrograde, it must be insensible
near the time of change : and, in like manner, the re
Part II.%:
of t he
^BoiHe's^ trograde motion being swiftest when the earth is in k,
u-_-and diminishing gradually till it changes to direct, must
also at the time of that change be insensible ; for any
motion gradually decreasing till it changes into a con¬
trary one gradually increasing, must at the time of the
change be altogether insensible.
The same changes in the apparent motions of this
planet will also take place if we suppose him to go on
slowly in his orbit; only they will happen every year
■when the earth is in different parts of her orbit, and
consequently at different times of the year. Thus, (fig.
iio.) let us suppose, that while the earth goes round
her orbit, Jupiter goes from F to G ; the points of the
earth’s orbit from which Jupiter will now appear to
be stationary will be a and y; and consequently his
stations must be at a time of the year different from
the former. Moreover, the conjunction of Jupiter
with the sun will now be when the earth is at f and
his opposition when it is at e ; for which reason these
also will happen at times of the year different from
those of the preceding opposition and conjunction.
The motion of Saturn is so slow, that it makes but
little alteration either in the times or places of his con¬
junction or opposition $ and no doubt the same will
take place in a more eminent degree in the Georgium
Sidus *, but the motion of Mars is so much swifter than
even that of Jupiter, that both the times and places of
his conjunctions and oppositions are thereby very much
altered.
Fig. 113. exemplifies the geocentric motion of Jupi¬
ter in a very intelligible manner; where 0 represents
the sun *, the circle 1, 2, 3, 4, the orbit of the earth,
divided into twelve equal arcs for the twelve months of
the year j PQ an arc of the orbit of Jupiter, contain¬
ing as much as he goes through in a year, and divided
in like manner into twelve equal parts, each as much
as he goes through in a month. Now, suppose the
earth to be at 1 when Jupiter is at a, a line drawn
through 1 and a shows Jupiter’s place in the celestial
ecliptic to be at A. In a month’s time the earth will
have moved from I to 2, Jupiter from a to b; and a
line drawn from 2 to 6 will show his geocentric place
to be in B. In another month, the earth will be in 3,
and Jupiter at e, and consequently his geocentric
place will be at C •, and in like manner his place may
be found for the other months at D, E, F, &c. It is
likewise easy to observe, that his geocentric motion is
direct in the arcs AB, BC, CD, DE •, retrograde in
EF, FG, GH, HI j and direct again in IK, KL,
LM, MN. The inequality of his geocentric motion is
likewise apparent from the figure.
A superior planet is in apogee when in conjunction
with the sun, and in perigee when in opposition ; and
every one of the superior planets is at its least possible
distance from the earth where it is in perigee and pe¬
rihelion at the same time. Their apparent diameters
are variable, according to their distances, like those of
the inferior planets j and this, as might naturally be
expected, is most remarkable in the planet Mars, who
is nearest us. In his nearest approach, this planet is
25 times larger than when farthest off, Jupiter twice
and a half, and Saturn once and a half.
Chap. III. Of the Orbits of the Planets^ and the
Laws of their Motions.
Real
Motions >
ol' the
HeavesilH
It would be exceedingly easy to ascertain the posi¬
tion of the planets for any given time, if their orbits
were, circular and uniform. But they exhibit very sen¬
sible inequalities in this respect, the laws of which are
exceedingly important in astronomy, as furnishing the
only clue which can lead us to the theory of the celes¬
tial motions. To ascertain, these irregularities, and de¬
tect their laws, it is necessary to abstract from their
apparent motions the effects produced by the motion of
the earth. In the first place then, we must determine
the nature and dimensions of the earth’s orbit.
We have seen formerly that the sun apparently
moves round the earth in an ellipse, having the earth
in the focus. We have only to reverse the position to
obtain the orbit of the earth. It moves round the sun
in an ellipse, having that luminary in the focus 5 so
that its radius vector describes areas proportional to the
times. In general, all the remarks made formerly on
the supposed orbit of the sun relative to its eccentri¬
city, &c. apply accurately to the real orbit of -the
earth.
The figure of the earth’s orbit being thus ascertain¬
ed, let us see how astronomers have been able to deter¬
mine that of the other planets. Let us take the pla¬
net Mars as an example, which, from the great eccen¬
tricity of its orbit, and its nearness to the earth, fur¬
nishes an excellent medium for discovering the laws of
the planetary motions.
The motion of Mars round the sun and his orbit
would be known, if we had at any given time, the
angle formed by its radius vector, and a fixed straight
line passing through the centre of the sun, together with
the length of that radius vector. To simplify the pro¬
blem, a time is chosen when one of these quantities may
be had separately from the other. This happens at
the oppositions, when we see the planet in the same
point of the ecliptic to which it would be referred by
a spectator in the sun. The difference in the velocity
and periodic times of the earth and Mars causes the
planet to appear when in opposition in different points
of the ecliptic successively. By comparing together a
great number of such oppositions, the relation which sub¬
sists between the time and the angular motion of Mars
round the sun, (called heliocentric), maybe discovered.
Different methods present themselves for that purpose.
But in the present case the problem is simplified by con¬
sidering that the principal inequalities of Mars return¬
ing in the same manner at every sidereal revolution,
the whole of them may be expressed by a rapidly con¬
verging series of the sines of the angles multiplied by
its mean motion. The relative changes in the length
of the radius vector, may be determined by comparing
together observations made about the quadrature when
the planet being about 90° from the sun, that radius
presents itself under the greatest angle possible. In
the triangle formed by the straight lines which join the
centres of the earth, the sun, and Mars, the angle at
the earth is obtained by observation, that at the sun is
ascertained by the law of Mars’s heliocentric motion.
Hence the radius vector is deduced in parts of the
earth’s j’adius vector. By comparing together a num¬
ber
tlBrt III.
1(1 (leai ber of such radii vectores determined in this manner,
oti Unions the law of their variations, corresponding to the angles
1 f the which they make with a straight line fixed in position,
^ may be determined. In this manner Kepler determin-
„ ■ ed the orbit of Mars, and found it to be an ellipse
with the sun in the focus. He inferred that the other
planets moved likewise in ellipses round the sun, and
this'inference has been confirmed by actual examina-
j96 tion.
Htocen- To a spectator placed in the sun, all the planets
triicircles wou]([ appear to describe circles annually in the hea-
ofite pla- veng . j-or tJjQygh tlie;r niotions are really elliptical,
the eccentricity is so small, that the difference between
them and true circles is not easily perceived even on
earth ; and at the sun, whether great or small, it would
entirely vanish. These circles, which in such a situa¬
tion would appear to be annually described among the
fixed stars, are called the heliocentric circles of the pla-
!nets j and if we suppose the orbits of the planets to be
extended to the extreme bounds of the creation, they
would describe among the fixed stars those circles just
mentioned. To a spectator in the sun, the comets,
though moving in the most eccentric orbits, would also
appear to describe circles in the heavens : for though
their orbits are in reality very long ellipses, the planes
iof them extended to the heavens would mark a great
circle thereon, whereof the eye would be the centre ;
only, as the real motion is in an ellipsis, the body
would appear to move much more slowly in some part
of the circle than another, and to differ excessively in
magnitude. To an inhabitant of any planet, how¬
ever, the sun appears to go round in its own heliocen¬
tric circle, or to describe in the heavens that same
curve which the planet would appear to do if seen from
the sun. Thus (fig. 114.), when the earth is at c, if
we draw a line from a through the sun at S, the point
G, in the sphere of the heavens where the line termi¬
nates, is the place where the sun then appears to an
inhabitant of the earth. In a month’s time the earth
will be got from a \.o b ; draw a line then through the
sun, and its extremity at H will point out his apparent
place at that time. In like manner, if we draw lines
from the earth in the twelve several situations in which
it is represented for the twelve months of the year, the
sun’s apparent place will be found as above, and so it
would be found by a spectator placed in Venus or any
other planet.
The geocentric latitude of a superior planet may be
understood from fig. 115. Let AB be the orbit of the
earth, CD that of Mars, both viewed with the eye in
their common section continued, by which they ap¬
pear in straight lines. Let E and F be opposite points
of the ecliptic, and suppose Mars to be in the south
limit at C. If he were at that time viewed from S, the
I centre of the sun, he would appear in the sphere of the
heavens at the point H j in which case his heliocentric
latitude would be FH : But when viewed in C from
the earth, or from its centre, which in this case is sup¬
posed to be the station of the spectator, he will appear
to be in different places of the heavens according to
99
the position of the earth. When the earth, for in- R^i
stance, is at B, the place of Mars will appear to be at Motions
g-, and his geocentric latitude will be F g. When the t!‘^
earth is at A, his apparent place will be in G, and {j0^leg ^
his geocentric latitude FG t and in like manner, sup-——v--
posing the earth to be in any other part of its orbit, as
in I or K, it is easy to see, that his apparent places,
as well as geocentric latitudes at those times, will be
different. 297
The two points where the heliocentric circle of any Nodes of a
planet cuts the ecliptic, are called its nodes ; and thatP-anef’
which the planet passes through as it goes into north
latitude, is called the ascending node, and is marked
thus Sb ? and the opposite to this is called the descending
node, and is marked IS. A line drawn from one node
to the other is called the line of the nodes of the planet,
which is the common section of the plane of the eclip¬
tic, and that of the planet produced on each side to the
fixed stars. The deviation of the orbit from a circle
is called the eccentricity of the orbit $ the point where
it is farthest distant from the sun is called its aphelion ;
and where nearest, the perihelion.
The motion of the planets is swiftest at the perihelion
when the radius vector is shortest: it diminishes as the
radius vector increases, and is at its minimum at the
aphelion. When Kepler compared these two quanti¬
ties in the planet Mars, he observed that the velocity
of the planet was always proportional to the square of
the radius vector, so that the product of that velocity
multiplied into the square of the radius vector is a
constant quantity!. This product is double the area
described by the radius vector in the given time.
Hence that area, supposing the radius vector to set out
from a fixed line, increases as the time. This Kepler
announced by saying, that the areas described by the
radius vector are proportional to the times. These laws
are precisely those followed by the earth in her motion
round the sun. Hence Kepler established as the funda¬
mental laws of the motions of the planets the two fol¬
lowing :
1. The orbits of the planets are ellipses, having the
sun in their focus.
2. The areas described by the radius vector of each
planet are proportional to the times of describing them.
These laws suffice for determining the motions of the
planets round the sun : But it is necessary to know for
each of the planets seven quantities, called the elements
of their elliptical motion. Five of these elements re¬
lative to the motion of the ellipse are, 1. The duration
of the sidereal revolution. 2. Half the greater axis or
the mean distance of the planet from the sun. 3. The
eccentricity of the orbit. 4. The mean longitude of
the planet at a given time. 5. The longitude of its
perihelion at the same epoch. The other two elements
relate to the position of the orbits. They are, 6. The
longitude of the nodes of the orbit at a given epoch,
or the points where the orbit intersects the ecliptic.
7. The inclination of the orbit to the plane of the
ecliptic. The following table exhibits a view of these
elements.
ASTRONOMY.
ICO
ASTRONOMY.
Part 11
Mercury
Venus
Earth
Mars
Jupiter
Saturn
Herschel
Sidereal revolu¬
tions.
Days.
87.
224.
365'
686.
4332'
I075V
30689,
969255
700817
256384
979579
602208
°772I3
000000
Mean di¬
stances.
0.387100
O.723332
I.OOOOOO
I.523693
5.202792
9.540724
19.183620
Eccentrici¬
ty in 175c.
O.205513
0.006885
0.016814
0.093088
0.048077
O.056223
O.046683
Secular variation
in the eccentri¬
city.
O.OOOOO3369
0.000062905
O.OCOO45572
O.OOCO90685
O.OOOI34245
0.000261553
O.OOOO26228
Mean lon¬
gitude in
17S0'
281.3104
5i-4963
311.1218
24.4219
4.1201
257.0438
353.961°
Longitudes
of the peri¬
helion in
Sidereal and
secular mo¬
tion of the
perihelion.
81.7401
I4I*9759
3°9-5790
368.3006
11.5012
97.9466
185.1262
I735'5°
--699.07
3671.63
4834-57
2030.25
4967.64
759-85
Inclina¬
tion of
the orbits
to the
ecliptic
in 17 50.
7.7778
3.7701
0.0000
2.0556
M636
2.7762
0.8599
Secular
variation
in the in¬
clination
to the
ecliptic.
55.09
13.80
0.00
-4.45
—67.40
■47.87
9*38
Longitudes
of the a-
scending
nodes in
175°-
50.3836
82.7093
0.0000
52.9377
108.8062
123.9327
80.7015
Sidereal at
secular mot;
of the node
—2332
—5673
0.C
—7027.4
—45°9-j
—5781.5
—10608.C
The sign — denotes a retrograde motion.
In this table, drawn up by M. de La Place, the decimal notation is employed ; the circle beine divided into 400° the degree
into too' the minute into too", and so on ■ we did not alter it, in order to give the reader a specimen of this notation, and
because the usual notation is employed m the following table.
We think it proper to subjoin here Dr Maskelyne’s view of the planetary system for 1801, Dec. i.
Pi!
The
The
Pali;
iatu:
- Ters
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI. VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
■ere
The Sun
Mercury
Venus
The Earth
The Moon
Mars
Ceres
Pallas
Jupiter
Saturn
Herschel
Apparent
mean dia¬
meters, as
seen from
the earth.
32' i",5
IO
58
31 8
27
1
°>5
39
18
3 54
Mean di¬
ameters
as seen
from the
tun.
16"
30
17,2
4,6
10
37
16
Mean dia¬
meters in
English
miles.
Mean distances
from the sun
in round num
hers of miles.
883246
3224
7687
79II>73
2180
4189
160
80
89170
79042
35H2
37000000
68000000
95000000
95000000
144000000
26000000c
266000000
49000000c
900000000
1800000000
More accu¬
rate propor¬
tional num¬
bers of the
preceding
mean di¬
stances.
Densities
to that of
water,
which
is 1.
S8?10
72333
100000
ICOOOO
152369
273550
279100
520279
954072
1908352
TT
9i
5tx
4^
5i
34
O-J-TT
Propor-
tions of the
quantities
of matter.
333928
0,1654
0,8899
I
0,025
0,0875
3 * 2,1
97>76
16,84
Inclinations of
orbits to the
ecliptic in 1780.
7 o' o"
3 23 35
000
5 9 3
at a mean.
1 51 o
10 37 56,6
in 1801.
34 5° 4°
in 1801.
1 18 56
in 1780.
2 29 50
in 1780.
o 46 20
in 1780.
Inclinations of
axes to orbits.
82° 44' O"
66 32
88 17
59 22
90 nearly.
60 probably.
Rotations diurnal
or round their
own axes.
25d I4h 8m 0s
O 23 21
I
29 17 44 3
o 24 39 22
0 9 55 37
o 10 16 2
j1 tlie 1
i tnu t
* aiieti,
195
IfiJtull
c inioii
j: nc(tI
i The Sun
l)ll I Mercury
: /enus
The Earth
rhe Moon
dars
t Part III.
ASTRONOMY.
xr.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.
XV.
XVI.
XVII.
’eres
alias
upiter
iiturn
Tropical revolutions.
87d 23h I4m 32,7s
224 16 41 27,5
365 5 48 49
686 22 18 27,4
1681 12 9 o
Sidereal revolutions.
87d 23h I5m 43)6
224 46 49 10,6
365 6 9 12
686 23 30 35,6
Places of Aphelia,
January 1800.
4330 H 39 2
10746 19 16 15,5
[erachel 130637 400
1703 16 48 o
4332 14 27 10,8
10759 1 51 11,2
30737 18 o o
8s 40 20' 50"
10 7 59 1
9 8 40 12
5 2 24 15
10 2s 57 14
in 1802.
6 11 8 20
in 1800.
8 29 4 11
in 1800.
ti 16 30 31
in 1800.
Secular mo¬
tions of the
Aphelia.
1 33 45
12 1 O
o 19 35
I 51 40
1 34 33
1 50 7
1 29 2
Eccentrici¬
ties; the
mean dis¬
tances being
100000.
7955-4
498
1681,395
14183,7
8x40,64
24630
25OI3>3
53640,42
90804
Greatest equa¬
tions of the
centres.
Longitudes of St, i
or places of
ascending nodes
in 1750.
230 40' o"
O 47 20
1 55 3°,9
x o 40 40
9 20 8
5 3° 38
6 26 42
5 27 16
Is 150 20' 43"
2 14 26 18
I7 38 38
20 58 40
in 1802.
22 28 57
in 1802.
7 55 32
in 1750.
21 32 22
in 1750.
12 47
in 1788
j 198
Shposed
b> the an-
eiiU to be
pneU.
199
A[ itoile’s
0[ iioil
cwcerning
tJk
From the above tables it appears that this time of
the revolution of the planets increases with their di¬
stance from the sun. This induced Kepler to suspect
that some relation existed between them. After many
attempts continued for 17 years, he at last discovered
that the squares of the periodic times of the planets are
proportional to the cubes of the greater axis of their
orbits.
Chap. IV. Of the Orbits of the Comets,
Of all the celestial bodies, comets have given rise
to the greatest number of speculations and conjectures.
Their strange appearance has in all ages been a mat¬
ter of terror to the vulgar, who uniformly have looked
upon them to be evil omens and forerunners of war, pe¬
stilence, &c. Others, less superstitious, supposed them
to be meteors raised in the higher regions of the air.
But we find that some part of the modern doctrine con¬
cerning them had been received into the ancient Italic
and Pythagorean schools: for they held them to be so
far of the nature of planets, that they had their periodi¬
cal times of appearing ; that they were out of sight for
a long time, while they were carried aloft at an immense
distance from the earth, but became visible when they
descended into the lower regions of the air, when they
were nearer to us.
Tliese opinions were probably brought from Egypt,
from whence the Greeks borrowed great part of their
learning. However, it seems not to have been gene¬
rally received; for Aristotle, who mentions it, asserted
that the heavens were unchangeable, and not liable to
generation or corruption. Comets, therefore, which
he believed to be generated when they first made their
appearance, and destroyed when they vanished from
our sight, he maintained could not be heavenly bodies,
but rather meteors or exhalations raised into the upper
regions of the atmosphere, where they blazed out for
a while, and disappeared when the matter of which
they were formed was consumed. Seneca, who lived
in the first century, mentions Apollonius of Myndus,
a very careful observer of natural causes, to have been
of the same sentiments with the most ancient Greek
philosophers with regard to comets. He himself had
seen two; one in the reign of Claudius, the other in
that of Nero; besides another which he saw while a
boy, before the death of Augustus. He plainly inti¬
mates, that he thought them above the moon ; and
argues strongly against those who supposed them to
be meteors, or held other absurd opinions concerning
them : declaring his belief that they were not fires
suddenly kindled, but the eternal productions of na¬
ture.^ He points out also the only way to come’at a
certainty on this subject, viz. by collecting a number
of observations concerning their appearance, in order
to discover whether they return periodically or not,
“ Eor this purpose (says he) one age is not sufficient;
but the time will come when the nature of comets and
their magnitudes will be demonstrated, and the routes
they take, so different from the planets, explained.
Posterity will then wonder that the preceding ages
should be ignorant of matters so plain and easy to be
known.”
For a long time this prediction of Seneca seemed
very unlikely to be fulfilled. The great authority
which Aristotle maintained for many ages, determined
them to be nothing but meteors casually lighted up
in the air; though they were manifestly at a great
height, not only above the clouds, but subject to the
diurnal revolution, of the earth. In> the dark and su¬
perstitious ages, they were held to be the forerunners of
every kind of calamity, and were supposed to.have dif¬
ferent degrees of malignity according to the shape they
assumed ;. from whence also they were differently deno¬
minated. Thus, some were said to be bearded, some
hairy 4 some to represent a beam, sword or spear;
others
Si * X
Id
XVIII.
Secular mo¬
tions of nodes.
1° 12' XO7
o 51 40
o 46 40
o 59 30
0 55 30
1 44 35
102
ASTRONOMY.
Part III,
300
Only osie
species of
them exists.
others a target, &c.; whereas modern astronomers ac¬
knowledge only one species of comets, and account for
their different appearances from their different situations
from the sun and earth.
It was not till some time after people began to
throw off the fetters of superstition and ignorance
which had so long held them, that any rational hypo¬
thesis was formed concerning comets. Kepler, in
20t other respects a very great genius, indulged the most
Kepler and extravagant conjectures, not only concerning comets.
Bodin’s opi-but the whole system of nature in general. The pia-
nion of
them.
302
Bernoulli’s
opinion.
3°3
True doc¬
trine con¬
cerning
them re¬
vived by
Tycho
Brahe.
nets he imagined to be huge animals who swam round
the sun by means of certain fins acting upon the ethe¬
real fluid, as those of fishes do on the water : and agree¬
ably to this notion, he imagined the comets to he mon¬
strous and uncommon animals generated in the celestial
spaces ; and he explained how the air engendered them
by an animal faculty. A yet more ridiculous opinion,
if possible, was that of John Bodin, a learned man of
France in the 17th century. He maintained that co¬
mets “ are spirits, which have lived on the earth in¬
numerable ages, and being at last arrived on the con¬
fines of death, celebrate their last triumph, or are re¬
called to the firmament like shining stars ! This is fol¬
lowed by famine, plague, &c. because the cities and
people destroy the governors and chiefs who appease
the wrath of God.” This opinion (he says) he borrow¬
ed from the philosopher Democritus, who imagined
them to be the souls of famous heroes : but that being
irreconcileable with Bodin’s Christian sentiments, he was
obliged to suppose them to be a kind of genii, or spiidts
subject to death, like those so much mentioned in the
Mahometan fables. Others, again, have denied even
the existence of comets, and maintained that they were
only false appearances occasioned by the refraction or
reflection of light.
The first rational conjecture we meet with is that of
James Bernoulli, an Italian astronomer, W'ho imagined
them to be the satellites of some very distant planet,
which was invisible to us on account of its distance^ as
were also the satellites, unless when in a certain part of
their course.
Tycho Brahe was the first who restored the comets
to their true rank in the creation. Before his time,
several comets had been observed with tolerable exact¬
ness by Regiomontanus, Appian, Fabricius, and others 5
yet they all thought them below the moon. But Ty¬
cho, being provided with much better instruments, set
himself with great diligence to observe the famous
comet of 15775 and, from many careful observations,
deduced that it bad no sensible diurnal parallax 5 and
therefore was not only far above the regions of our at¬
mosphere, but much higher than the moon. But though
few have come so near the earth as to have any diurnal
parallax, all of them have what may be called an annual
parallax 5 that is, the revolution of the earth in her orbit
causes their apparent motion to be very different from
what it would be if viewed from the sun ; and this shows
them to be much nearer than the fixed stars, which have
no such parallax. Kepler, the disciple of Tycho, not¬
withstanding his ridiculous conjecture already mention¬
ed, was very attentive to the motions of the comets, and
found that they did not move in straight lines, as had
been supposed. He showed that their paths were con¬
cave towards the sun, and supposed them to move in Real
parabolic trajectories. Motions
Their true motion, however, was only discovered ot l*le
from the observations made by Sir Isaac Newton on ijodie
the great comet of 1680. This descended almost per- 1 v—' j
pendicularly towards the sun with a prodigious velo- 304
city ; ascending again with the same velocity retarded,^1611 rao‘
as it had been before accelerated. It was seen in the[10'|e^^V
morning by a great number of astronomers in different jfed by Sir
parts of Europe, from the 4th to the 25th of Novem-Isaac New.
ber, in its wav toward the sun 5 and in the evening fromton-
the 12th of December to the 9th of March following.
The many exact observations made on this comet en¬
abled Sir Isaac Newton to determine that they are a
kind of planets which move in very eccentric ellipses 5
and this opinion is now looked upon to be certainly
established. It was opposed, however, by M. de la
Hire, and some other French philosophers 5 and it is
evident that the whole dispute now turned on mere
practical observations. If the return of any comet could
be predicted, and its periodical time calculated like
that of a planet, then the doctrine might be concluded
certainly true, but not otherwise. Dr Halley therefore Dr Halley
set himself to collect all the observations he could on predicts a
comets ; and afterwards calculated the periodical times comet’s re'
of 24 of them, on a supposition of their being para-turn’
boles; but afterwards found that they agreed better
with the supposition of their motion being performed
in very eccentric elliptical orbits. On this he calcu¬
lated a table of their elements 5 from which it was ma¬
nifest that they were not comprehended in the zodiac,
some of them making an angle of upwards of 8o° with
the ecliptic.
By computations founded on these elements, the Periodical
Doctor concluded that the comet of 1682 was the times of
same which had appeared in 1607 and 1531 5 that it different
had a period of 75 or 76 years 5 and be ventured to ^ine.ts ^
foretel that it would return about the year 1758. The iraine
comet which appeared in 1661 was supposed to be the
same with that of 1532, and to have a period of 129
years ; and from the equality of periods, and similitude
of appearances, it was concluded that the great comet
of 1680 was the same which had appeared in 1106 in
the time of Henry I. in the consulate of Lampadius
and Orestes about the year 531, and in the year 44 B. C.
before Julius Caesar was murdered 5 and hence conclud¬
ed that its period rvas 575 years. MrDunthorne, how¬
ever, has endeavoured to show from a MS. in Pembroke-
hall library, that the comet of 1106 could not be the
same with that of 1680: but M. de la Lande thinks
the four appearances related by Dr Halley stronger
proofs than a single observation, which might be very
faulty.
Since the time of Dr Halley other astronomers have
calculated the elements of 25 other comets 5 all of
which, excepting one of three which appeared in 1759,
and which differs but little from that of 1531, 1607,
and 1682, and is therefore accounted the same, differ
very much from each other; so that we cannot help
307
concluding them all to be different, and that the num-c0*
ber of these bodies is very great. “ It is not, how-IT,ets “ay
Tii, ■fv t . 7 sometimes
ever, unlikely (says Dr Long), from the immense inter-be invisiblc
val between the orbit of Saturn and the nearest fixed even in
stars, that many of them have not descended into the tJiew peri-
planetary k6^011.
# ice:
r.ci
Real
.lotions
of the
leavenly
Bodies.
||art III. -ASTRO
planetary regions since they have been looked upon as
celestial bodies, and observed accordingly : besides, it
may often happen, that a body may finish its whole pe¬
riod without being observed by us, on account of the
unfavourable situation of the earth in her orbit when
the comet is in its perihelion. Thus, if the comet be
either behind or before the sun, or nearly so, it must be
above our horizon in the day time, and consequently in¬
visible, except the sun should at that time be in a total
eclipse ; for then the comet might be seen near the sun,
as well as the stars and planets are : and this case is
said to have happened ; for Seneca relates from Possi-
donius, that a comet was seen when the sun was eclips¬
ed, which had before been invisible by being near that
luminary.”
A greater number of comets are seen in the hemisphere
ar seen in towards the sun than in the opposite j the reason of which
idere'to" eas*ly appear from fig. 116. wherein S represents
wds the the sun, E the earth, ABCD the sphere of the fixed
sil than in stars : and because comets either do not reflect light
tkoppo- enough to be visible, or emit tails conspicuous enough
to attract our notice, till they come within the planeta¬
ry regions, commonly a good way within the sphere of
Jupiter, let KLMN be a sphere concentric to the sun,
at such a distance from him, that no comet can be seen
by us till it come within that distance 5 though E draw
the plane BD perpendicular to SE, which will divide
the sphere CLMN into two hemispheres, one of which,
BCD, is toward the sun, the other, DAB, opposite.
Now it is manifest, that the spherical portion LMN,
which is in the hemisphere BCD towards the sun, is
larger than the portion NKL in the hemisphere oppo¬
site to him : and consequently a greater number of co¬
mets will appear in the hemisphere BCD than in that
j marked DAB.
cia^dif- Though the orbits of all comets are very eccentric
Sac
3rl
earth, Distances,
its appa- diameters.
J 3°S
wiy more
fetices in ellipses, there are vast difl'erences amongst them ; ex-
hcccen- cepting Mercury, there are no great diflerences among dotus, lib. vii. cap. 37. and lib. ix. cap. 70. ; fikewise
trities of tliH nlanets. pither as tn tlip f"Pl 1 fltPir* r» K1 fa flic* 1 4- C,-v E "T\ ! ~  1* _ 1 _ I _ 1 1 * . , 1
N O M Y.
planet 5 though this must be attended with some un¬
certainty, as we know not whether the heads of comets
reflect the sun’s light in the same manner the planets
do. Their distance may be known from their paral¬
lax, in the manner related in a subsequent section.
In this manner he found the distance of the comet
of 1577 !)e about 210 semidiameters of th
or about 840,000 miles distant from us,
lent diameter being seven minutes; whence be con-comets
eluded, that the true diameter of the comet was to computed,
that of the earth as 3 to 14. “ But (says Dr Long)
it was the hemisphere of the comet which was then
measured.” Hevelius, from the parallax and apparent
diameter of the head of the comet in 1652, computed
its diameter to be to that of the earth as 52 to 100.
By the same method he found the diameter of the head
ol the comet of 1664 to be at one time 12 semidiame¬
ters of the earth, and at another not much more than
5- “ That the head of the comet must appear less the
farther it is from the earth (says Dr Long) is obvious j
but besides this apparent change, there is also a real
one in the dimensions of the head of the same comet ;
lor, when near the sun, the atmosphere is diminished
by the heat raising more of it into the tail ; whereas, at
a greater distance, the tail is diminished and the head
enlarged.” Hevelius computed the diameter of the
nucleus of the comets of 1661 and 1665 to l36 only
about a tenth part of that of the earth ; and Cysatus
makes the true diameter of the comet of 1618 to be
about the same size. Some comets, however, from
their apparent magnitude and distance, have been sup¬
posed much larger than the moon, or even equal in
magnitude to some of the primary planets j and some
have imagined, that by an interposition of these bodies Ec]jp^s
betwixt the earth and sun, we might account for those occasioned
darknesses which cannot be derived from any interposi-by cornels,
tion of the moon. Such are those mentioned by Hero-
thnorbits
ufjpmets.
310
Ojnion
stiPce,
the planets, either as to the eccentricity of their orbits,
or the inclination of their planes j but the planes of some
comets are almost perpendicular to others, and some of
their ellipses are much wider than others. The narrow¬
est ellipsis of any comet hitherto observed was that of
1680. There is also a much greater inequality in the
motion of the comets than of the planets ; the velocity
of the former being incomparably greater in their peri¬
helion than in their aphelion : but the planets are but
very little accelerated.
Astronomers are now generally agreed, that comets
caieraing are opaque bodies, enlightened by the sun. Hevelius,
th® 6ub' in a large work, wherein he gives the opinion of vari¬
ous authors on the subject, mentions some who were of
the same sentiments with himself, that comets were so
far transparent as to let the light of the sun pass through
them, which formed their tails. Sir Isaac Newton
was of opinion, that they are quite opaque 5 and in
confirmation of this, he observes, that if a comet be
seen in two parts of its orbit, at equal distances from
the earth, but at unequal distances from the sun, it al¬
ways shines brightest in that nearest the sun. They
are of very different magnitudes, which may be con¬
jectured from their apparent diameter and brightness.
Thus the head of a comet, when of the same bright¬
ness and apparent diameter with Saturn, may be sup¬
posed to be nearly about the same magnitude with that
3,
the eclipse mentioned by Dion, which happened a little
before the death of Augustus j and it is observable that
Seneca saw a comet that year. Some have even at¬
tempted to account in this manner for the darkness
which happened at our Saviour’s crucifixion ; and in¬
deed it is certain, that were a comet in its perigee to
come between the earth and sun, and to be moving the
same way with the earth, it must cause a darkness much
more intense, as well as of more considerable duration,
than what would take place in any lunar eclipse. ,, ,
Various conjectures have been formed respecting Conjectures
the tails of comets; though it is acknowledged by concerning
all, that they depend on the sun somehow or other ; t^ie*r ta^s*
and for this plain reason, that they are always turned
from him ; but in what manner this is accomplished, we
cannot easily determine. Appian, Tycho Brahe, and
others, thought the tail was formed by the sun’s rays
transmitted through the nucleus of the comet, which
they fancied transparent, and was there refracted as in
a lens of glass, so as to form a beam of light behind
the comet : but this cannot be the case, as well because
the figure of a comet’s tail does not answer to such a
refraction, as that such refracted light would not he
seen by a spectator placed sideways to it, unless it
fell upon some substance sufficiently dense to cause a
reflection. Descartes and his followers were of opi- 3r4
nion, that the tail of a comet was owing to the refrac- 0pmion 01
tion
Descartes.
104
RcjI
JVJ(Uion>
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
ASTRONOMY.
lion of its head : but if this were the case, the planets
and principal fixed stars must have tails also; for the rays
from them pass through the same medium as the light
from the comets. Sir Isaac Newton was of opinion,
that the tail of a comet is a very thin vapour which
the head sends out by reason of its heat: that it ascends
from the sun just as smoke does from the earth : that
as the ascent of smoke is caused by the rarefaction of
the air wherein it is entangled, causing such air to
ascend and carry the smoke up with it; so the sun’s
rays acting upon the coma or atmosphere of the comet,
do by rarefaction and refraction heat the same : that
this heated atmosphere heats, and by heating rarefies,
the ether that is involved therein ; and that the specific
gravity with which such ether tends to the sun, is so
diminished by its rarefaction, that it will now ascend
from him by its relative lightness, and carry with it the
reflectingparticles whereof the tail iscomposed. Though
the immensely large tails of some comets seem to re¬
quire a great quantity of matter to produce them, this
is no objection to the foregoing solution : for every
day’s experience shows what a great quantity of smoke
is produced from a very little wood or coal ; and New¬
ton has demonstrated, that a cubic inch of air equally
rarefied with that at the distance of a semidiameter
from the earth’s surface, would fill all the planetary
regions to the orbit of Saturn and beyond. Mairan
entertained a very different opinion. He supposed the
tails of the comets to be formed out of the luminous
matter whereof the sun’s atmosphere consists. This
he supposes to extend as far as the orbit of the earth,
and to furnish matter for the aurora borealis. M. de
la Lande is for joining the two last opinions together.
Part of the matter which forms the tails of comets he
supposes to arise from their own atmosphere rarefied by
heat and pushed forward by the force of the light
streaming from the sun ; and also that a comet passing
through the sun’s atmosphere is drenched therein, and
carries away some of it. Mr Howning objects to New¬
ton’s account, that it can hardly be supposed the thin
vapour of the tail should go before the more solid body
of the comet, when the motion thereof is sometimes so
extremely swift, as that of some of the comets is said to
be, after the rate, as Sir Isaac Newton calculated the
motion of the comet of 1680 to be, of no less than
880,000 miles an hour. He therefore supposes the
atmosphere of the comet to extend every wTay round it
as far as the tail reaches; and that the part of it which
makes the tail is distinguished from the rest, so as to
fall thick upon that part of the atmosphere which goes
before the comet in its progress along its elliptic orbit.
The greatest objection to this is the immense magni¬
tude of the atmospheres; as it must now be supposed to
account for the vast lengths of the tails of some comets,
which have been said to measure above 80 millions of
miles.
The many discoveries which, since the time of New¬
ton, Halley, and other celebrated mathematicians,
have been made in electricity, having brought in a
new element unknown to former ages, and which
shows a vast power through every part of the creation
with which we are acquainted, it became natural to
imagine that it must extend also into those higher re¬
gions which are altogether inaccessible to man. The
similarity of the tails of comets to the Aurora Borea¬
Real
Motiom
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
3*5
Part III,
lis, which is commonly looked upon to be an electri¬
cal phenomenon, therefore suggested an opinion, at
present far from being generally disbelieved, that the
tails of comets are streams of electric matter. An hy¬
pothesis of this kind was published by Hr Hamilton of
Hublin in a small treatise, entitled, Conjectwes on the
Nature of the Aurora Borealis, a n d on the Tails of Co- I >r Hamil.
mets. His hypothesis is, that the comets are of use to|.0^ Puk
bring back the electric fluid to the planets, which isnj011 °^1'
continually discharged from the higher regions of their
atmospheres. Having given at length the above-men¬
tioned opinion of Sir Isaac, “ We find (says he) in
this account, that Sir Isaac ascribes the ascent of co¬
mets tails to their being rarer and lighter, and moving
round the sun more swiftly than the solar atmosphere,
with which he supposes them to be surrounded whilst
in the neighbourhood of the sun ; he says also, that
whatever position (in respect to each other) the head
and tail of a comet then receive, they will keep the
same afterwards most freely ; and in another place he
observes, ‘ That the celestial spaces must be entirely
void of any power of resisting, since not only the solid
bodies of the planets and comets, but even the exceed¬
ing thin vapours of which comets tails are formed, move
through those spaces with immense velocity, and yet
with the greatest freedom.’ I cannot help thinking
that this account is liable to many difficulties and objec¬
tions, and that it seems not very consistent with itself or
with the phenomena.
“ I do not know that we have any proof of the ex¬
istence of a solar atmosphere of any considerable ex¬
tent, nor are we anywhere taught how to guess at the
limits of it. It is evident that the existence of such
an atmosphere cannot be proved merely by the ascent
of comets tails from the sun, as that phenomenon may
possibly arise from some other cause. However, let ua
suppose, for the present, that the ascent of comets
tails is owing to an atmosphere suiTounding the sun ;
and see how the effects arising from thence will agree
with the phenomena. When a comet comes into the
solar atmosphere, and is then descending almost direct¬
ly to the sun, if the vapours which compose the tail
are raised up from it by the superior density and weight
of that atmosphere, they must rise into those parts that
the comet has left, and therefore at that time they may
appear in a direction opposite to the sun. But as soon
as the comet comes near the sun, and moves in a di¬
rection nearly at right angles with the direction of its
tail, the vapours which then arise, partaking of the
great velocity of the comet, and being specifically
lighter than the medium in which they move, and be¬
ing vastly expanded through it, must necessarily softer
a resistance immensely greater than what the small and
dense body of the comet meets with, and consequently
cannot possibly keep up with it, but must be left be¬
hind, or, as it were, driven backwards by the resist¬
ance of that medium into a line directed towards the
parts which the comet has left, and therefore can no
longer appear in a direction opposite to the sun. And,
in like manner, when a comet passes its perihelion, and
begins to ascend from the sun, it certainly ought to
appear ever after with its tail behind it, or in a direc¬
tion pointed towards the sun ; for if the tail of the co¬
met be specifically lighter than the medium in which
it moves with so great velocity, it must be just as im¬
possible
irt III.
ASTRONOMY.
Real
Motions
of the
Jiarenly
:odieii.
possible it should move foremost, as it is that a torch
moved swiftly through the air should project its flame
and smoke before it. Since therefore we find that the
tail of a comet, even when it is ascending from the
sun, moves foremost, and appears in a direction nearly
opposite to the sun, I think we must conclude that the
comet and its tail do not move in a medium heavier
and denser than the matter of which the tail consists,
and consequently that the constant ascent of the tail
from the sun must be owing to some other cause. For
that the solar atmosphere should have density and weight
sufficient to raise up the vapours of a comet from the
sun, and yet not be able to give any sensible resistance
to these vapours in their rapid progress through it, are
two things inconsistent with each other : And there¬
fore, since the tail of a comet is found to move as freely
as the body does, we ought rather to conclude, that
the celestial spaces are void of all resisting matter, than
that they are filled with a solar atmosphere, be it ever
so rare.
“ But there is, I think, a further consideration,
which will show that the received opinion, as to the
ascent of comets tails, is not agreeable to the pheno¬
mena, and may at the same time lead us to some know¬
ledge of the matter of which these tails consist; which
I suspect is of a very different nature from what it has
been hitherto supposed to be. Sir Isaac says, the va¬
pours of which the tail of a comet consists, grow hot
by reflecting the rays of the sun, and thereby warm
and rarefy the medium which surrounds them j which
must therefore ascend from the sun, and carry with it
IO
the reflecting particles of which the tail is formed ; for
he always speaks of the tail as shining by reflected
light. But one would rather imagine, from the phe¬
nomena, that the matter which forms a comet’s tail has
not the least sensible power of reflecting the rays of
light. For it appears from Sir Isaac’s observation,
which I have quoted already, that the light of the
smallest stars, coming to us through the immense thick¬
ness of a comet’s tail, does not suffer the least diminu¬
tion. And yet, if the tail can reflect the light of the
sun so copiously as it must do if its great splendour be
owing to such reflection, it must undoubtedly have the
same effect on the light of the stars ; that is, it must
reflect back the light which comes from the stars be¬
hind it, and by so doing must intercept them from out-
sight, considering its vast thickness, and how exceed¬
ingly slender a ray is that comes from a small star ; or
if it did not intercept their whole light, it must at least
increase their twinkling. But we do not find that it
has even this small effect; for those stars that appear
through the tail are not observed to twinkle more than
others in their neighbourhood. Since therefore this
fact is supported by observations, what can be a plainer
proof that the matter of a comet’s tail has no power
of reflecting the rays of light P and consequently, that
it must be a self-shining substance. But the same
thing will further appear, from considering that bodies
leflect and refract light by one and the same power;
and therefore if comets tails want the power of refract¬
ing the rays of light, they must also want the power
of reflecting them. Now, that they want this re¬
fracting power appears from hence : If that great co¬
lumn of transparent matter which forms a comet’s tail,
and moves either in a vacuum or in some medium of a
VoL. III. Part I. ^
different density from its own, had any power of re- Rea!
fracting a ray of light coming through it from a star Motions
to us, that ray must be turned far out of its way in of the
passing over the great distance between the comet and Hta,wn,y
the earth ; and therefore we should very sensibly per- , Bo^iCS’ .
ceive the smallest refraction that the light of the stars
might suffer in passing through a comet’s tail. The
consequence of such a refraction must be very remark¬
able : the stars that lie near the tail would, in some
cases, appear double ; for they would appear in their
proper places by their direct rays, and we should see
their images behind the tail, by means of their rays
which it' might refract to our eyes ; and those stars
that were really behind the tail w'ould disappear in
some situations, their rays being turned aside from us
by refraction. . In short, it is easy to imagine what
strange alterations w-ould be made in the apparent pla¬
ces of the fixed stars by the tails of comets, if they had
a power of refracting their light, which could not fail
to be taken notice of if any such ever happened. But
since astronomers have not mentioned any such appa¬
rent changes of place among the stars, I take it for
granted that the stars seen through all parts of a comet’s
tail appear in their proper places, and with their usual
colours ; and consequently I infer, that the rays of light
suffer no refraction in passing through a comet’s tail.
And thence I conclude (as before), that the matter of
a comet s tail has not the power of refracting or reflect¬
ing the rays of light, and must therefore be a lucid or
self-shining substance.” ^
But whatever probability the Doctor’s conjecture Sir isaac’s
concerning the materials whereof the tails are formed account da-
may have in it, his criticism on Sir Isaac Newton’s ac-fended*
count of them seems not to be just: for that great phi¬
losopher supposes the comets to have an atmosphere pe¬
culiar to themselves; and consequently in their nearest
approaches to the sun, both comet and atmosphere are
immersed in the atmosphere of that luminary. In this
case, the atmosphere of the comet being prodigiously
heated on the side next to the sun, and consequently
the equilibrium in it broken, the denser parts will con¬
tinually pour in from the regions farthest from the sun ;
for the same reason, the more rarefied part which is be¬
fore will continually fly off opposite to the sun, be¬
ing displaced by that which comes from behind ; for
though we must suppose the comet and its atmosphere
to be heated on all sides to an extreme degree, yet still
that part which is farthest from the sun will be less hot,
and consequently more dense, than what is nearest to
his body. The consequence of this is, that there must
be a constant stream of dense atmosphere descending
towards the sun, and another stream of rarefied vapours
and atmosphere ascending on the contrary side; just as
in a common fire there is a constant stream of dense
air ascending, which pushes up another of rarefied air,
flame, and smoke. I he resistance of a solar atmos-
sphere may indeed be very well supposed to occasion
the curvature observable in the tails of comets, and
their being better defined in the fore part than be¬
hind ; and this appearance we think Dr Hamilton’s n i}7 •.
hypothesis is incapable of solving. We grant, that ton’s hy^o-
there is the utmost probability that the tails of comets thesis in-
are streams of electric matter; but they who advancesuffirieut*
a theory of any kind ought to solve every phenome¬
non, otherwise their theory is insufficient. It was in-
^ curnbeut
ic6
ASTRONOMY.
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
cumbent on Dr Hamilton, therefore to have explained
how this stream of electric matter comes to be bent
into a curve 5 and also why it is better defined and
brighter on the outer side of the arch than on the in¬
ner. This indeed he attempts in the following man¬
ner : “ But that this curvature was not owing to any
resisting matter appears from hence, that the tail must
be bent into a curve, though it met with no resistance $
lor it could not be a right line, unless all its particles
were projected in parallel directions, and with the same
velocity, and unless the comet moved uniformly in a
right line. But the comet moves in a curve, and each
part of the tail is projected in a direction opposite to
the sun, and at the same time partakes of the motion
of the comet; so that the different parts of the tail
must move on in lines which diverge from each other 5
and a line drawn from the head of a comet to the ex¬
tremity of the tail, will be parallel to aline drawn from
the sun to the place where the comet was when that
part of the tail began to ascend, as Sir Isaac observes :
and so all the chords or lines drawn from the head of
the comet to the intermediate parts of the tail, will be
respectively parallel to lines drawn from the sun to the
places where the comet was when these parts of the
tail began to ascend. And, therefore, since these chords
of the tail will be of different lengths, and parallel to
different lines, they must make different angles with a
great circle passing through the sun and comet; and
consequently a line passing through their extremities
will be a curve.
“ It is observed, that the convex side of the tail
which is turned from the sun is better defined, and
shines a little brighter, than the concave side. Sir
Isaac accounts for this, by saying, that the vapour on
the convex side is fresher (that is, has ascended later)
than that on the concave side ; and yet I cannot see
how the particles on the convex side can be thought to
have ascended later than those on the concave side
which may be nearer to the head of the comet. I think
it rather looks as if the tail, in its rapid motion, met with
some slight resistance just sufficient to cause a small
condensation in that side of it which moves foremost,
and which would occasion it to appear a little brighter
and better defined than the other side ; which slight re¬
sistance may arise from that subtile ether which is sup¬
posed to be dispersed through the celestial regions, or
from this very electric matter dispersed in the same
manner, if it he different from the ether.”
On the last part of this observation we must remark,
that though a slight resistance in the ethereal medium
would have served Sir Isaac Newton’s turn, it will by
no means serve Dr Hamilton’s ; for though a stream
of water or air may be easily destroyed or broken by
resistance, yet a stream of electric matter seems to set
every obstacle at defiance. If a sharp needle is placed
on the conductor of an electric machine, and the ma¬
chine set in motion, we will perceive a small stream of
electric matter issuing from the point; but though we
blow against this stream of fire with the utmost, vio¬
lence, it is impossible either to move it, or to brighten
it on the side against which we blow. If the celestial
spaces then are full of a subtile ether capable of thus
affecting a stream of electric matter, we may be sure
that it also will resist very violently: and we are then
as much difficulted to account for the projectile mo-
Part III,
tion continuing amidst such violent resistance ; for if Reaj
the ether resists the tail of the comet, it is impossible Moiiom
to prove that it doth not resist the head also. of the
This objection may appear to some to be but weak- *
ly founded, as we perceive the electric fluid to be en- ^ '_j
dowed with such extreme subtility, and to yield to the 318
impression of solid bodies with such facility, that we Electric
easily imagine it to be of a very passive nature in aU not
cases. But it is certain, that this fluid only shows it-jj^^^*1,
self passive where it passes from one body into another,
which it seems very much inclined to do of itself. It
will also be found, on proper examination of all the
phenomena, that the only way we can manage the elec¬
tric fluid at all is by allowing it to direct its own mo¬
tions. In all cases where we ourselves attempt to as¬
sume the government of it, it shows itself the most un-
tractable and stubborn being in nature. But these
things come more properly under the article Elec¬
tricity, where they are fully considered. Here it is
sufficient to observe, that a stream of electric matter
resists air, and from the phenomena of electric repul¬
sion we are sure that one stream of electric matter re¬
sists another : from which we may be also certain, that
if a stream of electric matter moves in an aerial fluid,
such fluid will resist it j and we can only judge of the
degree of resistance it meets with in the heavens from
what we observe on earth. Here we see the most vio¬
lent blast of air has no effect upon a stream of electric
fluid : in the celestial regions, either air or some other
fluid has an effect upon it according to Dr Hamilton.
The resistance of that fluid, therefore, must be greater
than that of the most violent blast of air we can ima-
h
gme.
As to the Doctor’s method of accounting for the
curvature of the comet’s tail, it might do very well on
Sir Isaac Newton’s principles, but cannot do so on his.
There is no comparison between the celerity with which
rarefied vapour ascends in our atmosphere, and that
whereby the electric fluid is discharged. The velocity
of the latter seems to equal that of light 5 of conse¬
quence, supposing the velocity of the comet to be
equal to that of the earth in its annual course, and its
tail equal in length to the distance of the sun from the
earth, the curvature of the tail could only be to a
straight line as the velocity of the comet in its orbit is
to the velocity of light, which according to the calcu¬
lations of Dr Bradley, is as io,2oi to I. The appa¬
rent curvature of such a comet’s tail, therefore, would
at this rate only be t-oVot Pai't °f its visible length, and
this would always be imperceptible to us. The veloci-proJjgi#B
ty of comets is indeed sometimes inconceivably great, velocity of
Mr Brydone observed one at Palermo, in July 1 770, a comet ol
which in 24 hours described an arch in the heavens Up.servedby
wards of 50 degrees in length; according to which he^o^e ^
supposes, that il it was as far distant as the sun, it must
have moved at the rate of upwards of 60 millions of
miles in a day. But this comet was attended with no
tail, so that we cannot be certain whether the curvature
of the tails of these bodies corresponds with their velo¬
city or not. 520
The near approach of some comets to the sun sub-Vehement
jects them to intense and inconceivable degrees of heat, heat of tin
Newton calculated that the heat of the comet of i68ocomelof
must have been near 2000 times as great as that 0fl680,
red-hot iron. The calculation is founded upon this
principle,
lift III.
Rea| principle, that the beat of the sun falling upon any
lotions body at different distances is reciprocally as the squares
of the 0f those distances 5 but it may be observed, that the ef-
Itodies^ feet of the heat of the sun upon all bodies near our
y ' < earth depends very much on the constitution of those
bodies, and of the air that surrounds them. “ The
comet in question (says Dr Long) certainly acquired
a prodigious heat: but I cannot think it came up to
what the calculation makes it: the effect of the strong¬
est burning-glass that has ever been made use of was
the vitrification of most bodies placed in its focus.
What would be the effect of a still greater heat we can
only conjecture) it would perhaps so disunite the parts
as to make them fly off every way in atoms. This co¬
met, according to Halley, in passing through its south¬
ern node, came within the length of the sun’s semidia¬
meter of the orbit of the earth. Had the earth then
been in the part of her orbit nearest to that node, their
mutual gravitation must have caused a change in the
plane of the orbit of the earth, and in the length of
our year: he adds, that if so large a body, with so
rapid a motion as that of this comet, were to strike
against the earth, a thing by no means impossible, the
shock might reduce this beautiful frame to its original
chaos.”
We must not conclude this account without observing
that Whiston, who, from Flamstead’s measure of its
apparent diameter, concluded the nucleus of the comet
to be about ten times as big as the moon, or equal to
a fourth part of the earth, attributes the universal de¬
luge in the time of Noah to the near approach thereof.
His opinion was, that the earth passing through the at¬
mosphere of the comet, attracted therefrom great part
of the water of the flood ; that the nearness of the comet
raised a great tide in the subterraneous waters, so that
the outer crust of the earth was changed from a sphe¬
rical to an oval figure 5 that this could not be done
without making fissures and cracks in it, through which
the waters forced themselves, by the hollow of the earth
being changed into a less capacious form ; that along
with the water thus squeezed up on the surface of the
earth, much slime or mud would rise ; which, together
with the grosser part of the comet’s atmosphere, would,
after the subsiding of the water, partly into the fissures
and partly into the lower parts of the earth to form
the sea, cover all over, to a considerable depth, the
antediluvian earth. Thus he accounts for trees and
bones of animals being found at a very great depth in
the earth. He also held that, before the fall, the
earth revolved round the sun in the plane of the eclip¬
tic, keeping always the same points of its surface to¬
wards the same fixed stars. By this means, as every
meridian would come to the sun but once in every re¬
volution, a day and a year were then the same : but
that a comet striking obliquely upon some part of the
earth gave it the diurnal rotation : that the antedilu¬
vian year consisted of 360 days : but that the addition¬
al matter deposited upon the earth from the atmosphere
of the comet at the flood, so retarded the revolution
thereof round the sun, that it is not now performed in
less than 365 days and about a quarter. The same co¬
met he thought would probably, coming near the earth
when heated in an intense degree in its perihelion, he
the instrumental cause of that great catastrophe, the
IO7
general conflagration, foretold in the sacred writings Real
and from ancient tradition. .Motions
These conjectures lead us to speak somewhat more °r t!ie
particularly concerning the nature of comets, and
the purposes they may possibly answer in the creation.  ’ .
Hevelius, in order to account for the various appear- ?2i
ances of the nucleus already related, supposed that Conjecture*
they were composed of several masses compacted toge-HeveS,us,
ther, with a transparent fluid interspersed, but the^ningthe
apparent changes in the nucleus maybe only on the nature of
surface : comets may be subject to spots as the planets comets,
are ; and the vastly different degrees of heat they go
through may occasion great and sudden changes’ not
only in their surfaces, but even in their internal frame
and texture. Newton places all these apparent changes
to the atmosphere that environs them ; which must be
very dense near their surfaces, and have clouds floating
therein. It was his opinion, that the changes mention¬
ed may all be in the clouds, not in the nucleus. This
last indeed he looked upon to be a body of extreme so¬
lidity, in order to sustain such an intense heat as the
comets are sometimes destined to undergo ; and that,
notwithstanding their running out into the immense
regions of space, Avhere they were exposed to the most
intense degrees of cold, they would hardly be cooled
again on their return to the sun. Indeed, accord¬
ing to his calculation, the comet of 1680 must be
for ever in a state of violent ignition. He hath com¬
puted that a globe of red-hot iron of the same dimen¬
sions with the earth, would scarce be cool in 50,000
years. If then the comet be supposed to cool 100
times faster than red-hot iron, as its heat was 2000
times greater, it must require upwards of a million of
years to cool it. In the short period of 575 years,
therefore, its heat will be in a manner scarce dimi¬
nished ) and, of consequence, in its next and every suc¬
ceeding revolution, it must acquire an increase of heat:
so that, since the creation, having received a propor¬
tional addition in every succeeding revolution, it must
now be in a state of ignition very little inferior to that
of the sun itself. Sir Isaac Newton hath farther con¬
cluded, that this comet must be considerably retarded
in every succeeding revolution by the atmosphere of the
sun within which it enters ; and thus must continually
come nearer and nearer his body, till at last it falls in¬
to it. This, he thinks, may be one use of the comets,
to furnish fuel for the sun, which otherwuse would be
in danger of wasting from the continual emission of its
light.
He adds, that for the conservation of the water and
moisture ol the planets, comets seem absolutely requi¬
site ; from whose condensed vapours and exhalation
all the moisture which is spent in vegetation and pu¬
trefaction, and turned into dry earth, &c. may be
resupplied and recruited j for all vegetables grow and
increase wholly from fluids ) and again, as to their
greatest part, turn by putrefaction into earth j art
earthy slime being perpetually precipitated to the bot¬
tom of putrefying liquors. Hence the quantity of dry
earth must continually increase, and the moisture of the .
globe decrease, and be quite evaporated, if it have not
a continual supply from some part or other of the uni¬
verse. “ And I suspect (adds our great author), that
the spirit which makes the finest, subtilest, and best
O 2 part
ASTRONOMY.
io8
ASTRONOMY.
Part III,
t
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
322
Mr Bry-
done's con
jectures
pnrt of our air, and which is absolutely requisite for the
life and being of all things, comes principally from the
comets.”
Mr Brydone observes, that the comets without tails
seem to be of a very different species from those
which have tails : To the latter, he says, they appear
to bear a much less resemblance than they do even to
planets. He tells us, that comets with tails have sel-
comets
without
tails.
323
Mr Cole’s
3*4
Of the pe¬
riodical
times, See.
of the
comets.
earth’s
Bodies,
concerning ^om been visible but on their recess from the sun : that
they are kindled up, and receive their alarming appear¬
ance, in their near approach to this glorious luminary ;
but that those without tails are seldom or ever seen
but on their way to the sun ; and he does not recollect
any whose return has been tolerably well ascertained.
“ I remember indeed (says be), a few years ago, a
small one, that was said to have been discovered by a
telescope after it had passed the sun, but never more be¬
came visible to the naked eye. This assertion is easily
made, and nobody can contradict it ; but it does not
at all appear probable that it should have been so much
less luminous after it had passed the sun than before it
approached him: and I will own to you, when I have
heard that the return of these comets had escaped the
eyes of the most acute astronomers, I have been tempt¬
ed to think that they did not return at all, but were
absorbed in the body of the sun, which their violent mo¬
tion towards him seemed to indicate.” Pie then at¬
tempts to account for the continual emission of the sun’s
light without waste, by supposing that there are num¬
berless bodies throughout the universe that are attracted
into the body of the sun, which serve to supply the
waste of light, and which for some time remain ob¬
scure and occasion spots on bis surface, till at last they
are perfectly dissolved and become bright like the rest.
This hypothesis may account for the dark spots becom¬
ing as bright, or even brighter than the rest of the
disk, but will by no means account for the brighter spots
becoming dark. Of this comet, too, Mr Brydone re¬
marks, that it was evidently surrounded by an atmo¬
sphere which refracted the light of the fixed stars, and
seemed to cause them to change their places as the co¬
met came near them.
A very strange opinion we find set forth in a book
hypothesis, entitled “ Observations and Conjectures on the Nature
and Properties of Light, and on the Theory of Comets,
by William Cole.” This gentleman supposes that the
comets belong to no particular system $ but were ori¬
ginally projected in such directions, as wmuld successive¬
ly expose them to the attraction of different centres, and
thus they would describe various curves of the parabolic
and the hyperbolic kind. P'his treatise is written in an¬
swer to some objections thrown out in Mr Brydone’s
Tour, against the motions of the comets by means of the
two forces of gravitation and projection, which were
thought sufficient for that purpose by Sir Isaac Newton:
of which we shall treat as fully as our limits will allow
in the next section.
The analogy between the periodical times of the
planets and their distances from the sun, discovered by
Kepler, takes place also in the comets. In conse¬
quence of this, the mean distance of a comet from the
sun may be found by comparing its period with the
time of the earth’s revolution round the sun. Thus
the period of the comet that appeared in 1531, 1607,
1682, and 1759, being about 76 years, its mean di-
2
stance from the sun may-be found by this proportion : Real
As 1, the square of one year, the earth’s periodical time, Motions
is to 5776 the square of 76, the comet’s periodical °Hbe
time ; so is 1,000,000 the cube of 100 the
mean distance from the sun, to 5,776,000,000 the cube
of the comet’s mean distance. The cube root of this
last number is 1794 J the mean distance itself in such
parts as the mean distance of the earth from the sun
contains ICO. If the perihelion distance of this comet,
58 be taken from 3588 double the mean distance, we
shall have the aphelion distance, 3530 of such parts as
the distance of the earth contains 100 ; which is a little
more than 35 times the distance of the earth from the
sun. By a like method, the aphelion distance of the
comet of 1680 comes out 138 times the mean distance
of the earth from the sun, supposing its period to be
575 years : so that this comet, in its aphelion, goes
more than 14 times the distance from the sun that Sa¬
turn does. Euler computes the orbit of this comet
from three of Flamstead’s observations taken near to¬
gether, compared with a fourth taken at some di¬
stance from the other three, and from thence concludes
the period to be a little more than 170 years. “ It
seems something surprising (says Dr Long), that,
from the same observations which were used by New¬
ton and Halley, he should bring out a period so very
different from what these great men have determined :
but it is the less to be wondered at, if we consider how
small a portion of the comet’s orbit lay between the
most distant places used in this computation, or indeed
that could be bad for that purpose 5 so small, that the
form of the ellipsis cannot be found with precision by
this method, except the comet’s places were more ex¬
actly verified than is possible to be done : and that he
does not pretend to confirm his determination of the pe¬
riod by pointing out and comparing together any former
appearances of this comet j a method which Newton
recommended as the only one whereby the periodical
times and transverse diameters of the orbits of the co¬
mets can be determined with accuracy.”
The period of the comet in 1744 is much longer than
even that of 1680. Mr Betts, in attempting to compute
the transverse axis of its orbit, found it come out
so near infinite, that, though the orbit showed itself in
this manner to be a very long one, he found it impossi¬
ble to calculate it without some observations made
after its perihelion. Halley, after he had finished hisjQr
tables of comets, found such a similitude in the elements calculate*
of those.of 1531, 1607, and 1682, that he was induced.the return
to believe them to be returns of the same comet in<>f comet*-
an elliptic orbit: but as there was such a difference
in their periodical times and inclinations of their or¬
bits as seemed to make against this opinion ; and as
the observations of the first of them in 1531 by Appian,
and the second in 1607 by Kepler, were not exact
enough to determine so nice a point when he first pub¬
lished his synopsis in 1705 5 he only mentioned this as
a thing probable, and recommended it to posterity to
watch for an appearance of the same in 1758. After¬
wards, looking over the catalogue of ancient comets,
and finding three others at equal instruments with those
now mentioned, he grew more positive in his opi¬
nion •, and knowing a method of calculating with ease
a motion in an elliptic orbit, how eccentric soever it
might be, instead of the parabolic orbit which he had
given
Frt III.
ASTRONOMY.
teal
lotions
. f the
given for the comet of 1682, he set about adapting the
plan of that orbit to an ellipsis of a given space and
magnitude, having the sun in one ol its foci, so as to
l-odies * t^ie observations of that comet made by Flam-
stead with great accuracy, by the help of a very large
sextant. He likewise corrected the places of the comet
of 1531 from Appian, and those of the comet 1607
from Kepler and Longomontanus, by rectifying the
places of the stars they had made use of, and found
those places agree as well with the motion in such
an ellipsis as could be expected from the manner of ob¬
serving of these astronomers, and the imperfections of
their instruments. The greatest objection to this
theory was some difference in the inclination of the
2<5 orbits, and that there was above a year’s difference be-
Wv the tween the two periods. The comet of 1531 was
pewdieal its perihelion August 24. 5 that of 1607, October 16,
cotitsan(^ ^ia*: September 4. : so that the first of
nap hap- the3e periods was more than 76, the latter not quite
pent un- 75 years. To obviate this, he reminds his readers of
cqelinter-an observation made by him of the periodical revolu¬
tion of Saturn having at one time been about 13 days
longer than at another time j occasioned, as he sup¬
posed, by the near approach of Saturn and Jupiter,
and the mutual attraction and gravitation of these two
planets : and observes, that in the summer of the year
1681, the comet in its descent was for some time so
near Jupiter, that its gravitation towards that planet
was one-fiftieth part of its gravitation towards the sun*
This, he concluded, would cause a change in the in¬
clination of its orbit, and also in the velocity of its
motion : for by continuing longer near the planet Ju¬
piter on the side most remote from the sun, its velocity
would be more increased by the joint forces of both
those bodies, than it would be diminished by them act¬
ing contrarywise, when on the side next the sun where
its motion was swiftest. The projectile motion being
thus increased, its orbit would be enlarged, and its
period lengthened $ so that he thought it probable it
would not return till after a longer period than 76
years, about the end of the year 1758, or beginning of
1759*
As Halley expressed his opinion modestly, though
clearly enough, that this comet would appear again
about the end of 1758, or the beginning of the fol¬
lowing year, M. de la Lande pretends he must have
been at a loss to know whether the period he foretold
would have been of 75 or of 76 years ; that he did
not give a decisive prediction, as if it had been the re¬
sult of calculation ; and that, by considering the affair
in so loose a manner as Halley did, there was a good
deal of room for objecting to his reasoning. After
these reflections, he is very large in his commendation
of the performance of Clairault j who, he says, not
only calculated strictly the effect of the atti'action of
Jupiter in 1681 and 1683, when the comet was again
near Jupiter, but did not neglect the attraction of that
planet when the comet was most distant ; that he con¬
sidered the uninterrupted attractions of Jupiter and
Saturn upon the sun and upon the comet, but chiefly
the attractions of Jupiter upon the sun, whereby that
luminary was a little displaced, and gave different ele¬
ments to the orbit of the comet. By this method he
found the comet would be in its perihelion about the
middle of April 5 but that* on account of some small
ICQ
Real
Motions
of the
.Heavenly
Bodies.
327
quantities necessarily neglected in the method of ap¬
proximation made use of by him, Mr Clairault de¬
sired to be indulged one month ; and that the comet
came just 30 days before the time he had fixed for its
appearance.
That comets may have their motion disturbed by the
planets, especially by the two largest, Jupiter and Sa¬
turn, appears by an instance just now mentioned. They
may also affect one another by their mutual gravitation
when out of the planetary regions y but of this we can
take no account, nor can we estimate the resistance cf
the ether through which they pass; and yet both these
causes may have some influence on the inclination of
their orbits and the length of their periods.
Chap. V. Of the Motions of the Satellites.
The moon is the satellite which moves round the
earth, and as her apparent and real motions are tbs
same, we have already given an account of her ellipti¬
cal orbit and irregularities.
Jupiter is attended by four satellites. If we repre¬
sent the semidiameters of Jupiter’s equator by unity,
then the mean distances of the satellites from Jupiter,
will be represented by the following numbers.
First satellite 5.697300 semidiameters. Orbits and
Second satellite 9.065898 distances
Third satellite 14.461628 ter’sTatel-
Fourth satellite 25.436000 lites.
The durations of their revolutions are respectively,
First satellite 1.769137787069931 days.
Second satellite 3.551181016734509
Third satellite 7.154552807541524
Fourth satellite 16.689019396008634
If we compare the distances of these satellites with,
their periodic times, we observe the same relation point¬
ed out by Kepler between the distances of the planets
from the sun and the duration of their revolutions : for
the squares of the periodic times of the satellites are
proportional to the cubes of their distance from Jupi¬
ter’s centre.
The frequent eclipses of these satellites have enabled
astronomers to ascertain their motion, with much more
precision than could have been attained merely by ob¬
serving their distances from Jupiter. The following
points have been ascertained.
The orbit of the first satellite is circular, at least its
eccentricity is insensible ; it coincides nearly with Ju¬
piter’s equator, which is inclined to the orbit of the
planet at an angle of 3.99990.
The ellipticity of the orbit of the second satellite isIrregulari-
also insensible j its inclination to Jupiter’s orbit varies,ties in their
as does also the position of its nodes.. These irregular!-ni0t,0Ils*
ties are represented pretty, well, by supposing the incli¬
nation of the orbit to the equator of Jupiter i1-]
and that its nodes move retrograde in that plane in a
period of 30 years.
A small eccentricity is observed in the orbit of the
third satellite.. The extremity of its longerjaxis next
Jupiter, called the perijove, has a direct motion. The
eccentricity of the orbit has been observed to vary con¬
siderably. The equation of the centre was at its maxi¬
mum about the end of the 17th century j it then a-,
mounted
ASTRONOMY.
mounted to about 862" ; it gradually diminished, and
in the year 1775 it 'vas at its minimum, and amounted
only to about 229.7". inclination of the orbit of
this satellite to that of Jupiter, and the position of its
nodes, are variable. These different variations are re¬
presented pretty nearly, by supposing the orbit inclin¬
ed to that of Jupiter, at an angle of about 726", and
giving to the nodes a retrograde motion in the plane of
the equator, completed in the period of 137 years.
The orbit of the fourth satellite is very sensibly el¬
liptical. Its perijove has a direct motion, amounting
to about 2112". This orbit is inclined to that of
Jupiter, at an angle of about 147'. It is in con¬
sequence of this inclination, that the fourth satellite
often passes behind the planet relatively to the sun with¬
out being eclipsed. From the first discovery of this
planet, till the year 1760, the inclination of its orbit
appeared constant : but it has sensibly increased since
that period.
Besides all these variations, the satellites of Jupiter
are subjected to several irregularities, which disturb
their elliptical motion, and render their theory very
complicated. These irregularities are most conspicuous
in the three first satellites.
Their mean motions are such, that the mean mo¬
tion of the first satellite, together with twice the mean
motion of the third, is nearly equal to thrice the mean
motion of the second. The same relation holds in
their synodical motions. The mean longitude both sy¬
nodical and sidereal of the first three satellites, seen
from the centre of Jupiter, is such that the longi¬
tude of the first, minus thrice that of the second, plus
twice that of the third, is nearly equal to the semicir¬
cumference. This relation is so very near the truth,
that one is tempted to consider it as rigorous, and to
ascribe the supposed errors to the imperfection of ob¬
servations. It will hold at least for a long time to
come, and shews us that the three satellites cannot be
eclipsed at once.
The periods and laws of the principal irregularities
of these satellites are the same in all. The irregularity
of the first advances or retards its eclipses 20" of time
at its maximum. If we compare the changes on this
inequality, with the relative positions of the two first
satellites, we find that it disappears when these two sa¬
tellites, seen from the centre of Jupiter, are in opposi¬
tion at the same time j that it increases gradually, and
acquires its maximum when the first satellite, at the in¬
stant of opposition, is 450 more advanced than the se¬
cond ; that it vanishes when the first is 90° before the
second. Beyond that point it becomes negative and
retards the eclipses, and increases till the two satellites
are 135 degrees from each other, when it acquires its
negative maximum. Then it diminishes and disap¬
pears when they are 180° distant. In the second half
of the circumference the very same laws are observed
as in the first. From these phenomena it has been
concluded, that there exists in the motion of the first
satellite round Jupiter, an inequality amounting to
at its maximum, and proportional to the sine
of twice the excess of the mean longitude of the first
satellite above that of the second ; which excess is
equal to the difference between the mean synodical
longitudes of the two satellites. The period of this
inequality does not amount to 4 days. How comes it
3
.esv
Part 111 |i
then, it will be asked, to change into a period of 437.75 Rea]
days, with respect to the eclipses of the first satellite ? Motions
Let us supposfe, that the first and second satellites set of the
out together from their mean opposition to the sun. HeaT.e“l!
During every revolution of the first satellite, in conse- , Bodittl
quence of its mean synodical motion, it will be in mean ^
opposition. Suppose a fictitious star, whose angular
motion is owing to the excess of the mean synodical
motion of the first satellite, over that of the second,
then twice the difference of the mean synodical motions
of the two satellites will in the eclipses of the first
be equal to a multiple of the circumference together
with the motion of the fictitious star. Of course the
sine of this last motion will be proportional to the ine¬
quality of the first satellite in its eclipses, and may re¬
present that inequality. Its period is equal to the dura¬
tion of the revolution of the fictitious star, which ac¬
cording to the mean motion of the two satellites is
437*75 days. Thus it is determined with more preci¬
sion than by direct observation.
The irregularity of the second satellite follows a law
similar to that of the first 3 but its sign is always con¬
trary. It accelerates or retards the eclipses 932" in
time when at its maximum. When compared with the
position of the two satellites, weperceivethatitdisappears
when they are in opposition to the sun at the same time:
that it retards the time of the eclipses more and more,
till the two satellites are distant from each other 90° at
the time when they take place j then the retardation
diminishes and vanishes altogether, when the two satel¬
lites are 1800 from each other at the time of the eclip¬
ses. It then accelerates the eclipses in the other half
of the circumference precisely as it had retarded them
before. From these observations it has been concluded
that there exists in the motion of the second satellite an
irregularity of 3647" at its maximum proportional, {but
With a contrary sign) to the sign of the excess of the
mean longitude of the first satellite above that of the se¬
cond, which excess is equal to the difference of the mean
synodical motions of the two satellites.
If the two satellites set out together from their mean
opposition to the sun j the second satellite will he in
mean opposition every time that it completes a synodi*
cal revolution. If we suppose, as before, a star whose
angular motion is equal to the excess of the mean sy¬
nodical movement of the first satellite, or twice that
of the second, then the difference of the two synodical
movements of the two satellites will, at the eclipses of
the second, equal a multiple of the circumference to¬
gether with the motion of the fictitious star. Of course
the inequality of the second during its eclipse will be
proportional to the sine of the angular motion of that
fictitious star. Hence the reason that the period and law
of that irregularity are the same as in the irregularity of
the first satellite.
If the third satellite produces in the motion of the
second an inequality resembling that which the second
seems to produce in the motion of the first, that is to
say, proportional to the sine of twice the difference of
the mean longitudes of the second and third satellite ;
that new inequality will coincide with that which is
due to the first satellite. For in consequence of the re¬
lation which the mean longitude of the three first satel¬
lites have to each other, the difference of the mean lon¬
gitudes of the two first satellites is equal to the semicir¬
cumference
»lite
1 tun
111
Ipirt 111.
cal cumference together with
ASTRO
twice tiie difference of the
itiiions mean longitudes of the second and third satellites, so that
♦ the the sine of the hist difference is the same as the sine of
,( double the second difference, but with a contrary sign.
y ^ The inequality produced by the third satellite in the
motion of the second, will therefore have the same sign,
and will follow the same law as the inequality observed
in that motion. It is, therefore, very probable that this
inequality is the result of two inequalities depending on
the first and third satellite. If in the course of ages, the
preceding relation between the mean longitudes of these
three satellites should cease to exist, these two inequa¬
lities, at present compounded, vmuld separate, and their
respective values might be discovered.
The inequality relative to the third satellite in its
eclipses, compared with the respective positions of the
second and third, offers the same relations with the
inequality of the second compared with the respective si¬
tuations of the two first. There exists then in the mo¬
tion of the third satellite, an inequality which at its
maximum amounts to 268". If we suppose a star whose
angular motion is equal to the excess of the mean syno¬
dical motion of the second satellite, above twice the
mean synodical motion of the third, the inequality of the
third satellite will in its eclipses be proportional to the
motion of this fictitious star. But in consequence of the
relation which exists between the mean longitude of the
three satellites, the sine of this motion is the same (ex¬
cept its sign), with that of the motion of the first ficti¬
tious star which we formerly considered. Therefore the
inequality of the third satellite in its eclipses has the
same period, and follows the same laws, with the in¬
equalities of the two first satellites : such are the laws
of the principal irregularities of the three first satellites
of J upiter.
Let us now consider the satellites of Saturn, which
S*im. are seven in number. The satellites of Saturn have not
as yet proved so useful to astronomy or geographv as
those of Jupiter; principally because they cannot be
seen unlessverypowerful telescopes be used. Five of those
satellites were discovered in the year 1685, by Cassini
and Huygens, who used telescopes consisting of two
simple lenses, but upwards of 100 feet in length ; and
those were called 1st, 2d, 3d, &c. reckoning from the
planet. Two others were discovered by Dr Herschel in
the years 1787 and 1788, and these are smaller and
nearer to the planet, on which account they ought to
have been called the first and second, at the same time
that the other five ought to have been called 3d, 4th,
5th, 6th, and 7th ; but, imagining that this might cre¬
ate some confusion in the reading ol old astronomical
books, the five old satellites have been suffered to retain
their numerical names, and the two new satellites are
now called the 6th and the 7th ; so that the 7th is the
nearest to the planet, then comes the 6th, then the 1st ;
and this is followed by the 2d, 3d, 4th, and 5th.
The inclinations of the orbits of the 1st, 2d, 3d, and
4th satellites, to the ecliptic, are from 30° to 310.
Lr9
Sataites
N O M Y.
That of the 5th is from I 70 to 180. Of all the satel¬
lites of the solar system, none, except the j'.h of Saturn,
has been observed to have any spots, from the motion of
which the rotation of the satellite round its own axis
might be determined. Then the 5th satellite of Saturn,
as Dr Herschel has discovered, turns round its own axis;
and it is remarkable, that, like our moon, it revolves
round its axis exactly in the same time that it revolves
round its primary.
The following table states the particulars which have
been ascertained with respect to the satellites of Saturn.
The Satellites of Saturn.
Real
Motions
of the
Heavenly
Bodies.
Satellites.
Periods.
Seventh
Sixth
First
Second
Third
Fourth
Fifth
d. h. m. s.
O 22 40 46
1 8 53 9
1 21 l8 27
2 17 41 22
4 12 25 12
IC 22 41 12
79 7 48 o
Dist. in
Nemi-dia.
ofSaturn.
3i
4t
5tt
8
18
54
Di»t. in
miles.
107,000
135,o°o
170,000
2I7,OOoj
303,000
704,000
2,050,000
App. diam.
of orbits.
O
I
I
1
2
6
l7
57
H
27
52
36
iB
4
The planet Herschel, with its six satellites, have been
entirely discovered by Dr Herschel. The planet itself
may be seen with almost any telescope ; but its satellites
cannot be perceived without the most powerful instru¬
ments, and the concurrence of all other favourable cir¬
cumstances. One of these satellites Dr Herschel found
to revolve round its primary in 8d. 17I1. im. 19 sec.;
the period of another he found to be 13d. uh. 5m.
1.5 sec. The apparent distance of the former from the
planet is 33 ; 5 that of the second 44,,■5'• Their orbits
are nearly perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic.
The other four satellites were discovered a consider¬
able time after, and of course Dr Herschel has had less
time to make observations upon them. They are alto¬
gether very minute objects; so that the following parti¬
culars must be considered as being not accurate but pro¬
bable. “ Admitting the distance of the interior satel¬
lite to be 25".5, its periodical revolution will be 3d.
2ih. 25m.
“ If the intermediate satellite be placed at an equal
distance between the two old satellites, or at
its period will be lod. 23b. 4m. The nearest exterior
satellite is about double the distance of the farthest old
one ; its periodical time will therefore be about 388.
ih. 49m. The most distant satellite is full four times
as far from the planet as the old second satellite ; it will
therefore take at least 1078. i6h. 14m. to complete one
revolution. All these satellites perform their revolu¬
tions in their mbits contrary to the order of the signs;
that is, their real motion is retrograde,”
Part
Satellites ot
Herschel.
i 12
ASTRONOMY.
Theory of
Universal
Gravita¬
tion.
PART IV. OF THE THEORY OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION.
Part IH
Theory Mif
Univers
G rarity
tiou.
[r.i'
33*
Motioa.
33*
Moving
forces.
333
Composi¬
tion
forces.
HA.VING in the last two parts of this treatise given
an account of the apparent and real motions of the
heavenly bodies, it only remains for us to compare
these motions with the laws established by mathema¬
ticians, in order to ascertain the forces that animate
the solar system, and to acquire notions of the general
principle of gravitation on which they depend. To de-
velope this part of the subject properly, three particu¬
lars claim our attention. We must in the first place
lay down the laws of motion as established by mathe¬
maticians •, in the second place, we must apply these
laws to the heavenly bodies, which will furnish us
with the theory of gravitation ; and, in the third place,
we must apply this theory to the planetary system, and
demonstrate that the whole motions of the heavenly bo¬
dies are explicable by that theory, and merely cases of
it. These particulars shall be the subject of the three
following chapters.
Chap. I. Of the Laws of Motion*
The laws of motion, by which all matter is regula¬
ted, and to which it is subject notwithstanding the
variety of phenomena which it continually exhibits, con¬
stitute the first principles of mechanical philosophy.
They will claim a separate place hereafter in this work,
under the title of Dynamics ; but some notions of them
are requisite in order to understand the theory of gravi¬
tation. We shall satisfy ourselves in this place with the
following short sketch.
A body appears to us to move when it changes its
situation with respect to other bodies which we con¬
sider as at rest. Thus in a vessel sailing down a river,
bodies are said to be in motion when they correspond
successively to different parts of the vessel. But this
motion is merely relative. The vessel itself is moving
along the surface of the river, which turns round the
axis of the earth, while the centre of the earth itself is
carried round the sun, and the sun with all its attendant
planets is moving through space. This renders it ne¬
cessary to refer the motion of a body to the parts of
space, which is considered as boundless, immoveable,
and penetrable. A body then is said to be in motion
when it corresponds successively to different parts of
space.
Matter, as far as we know, is equally indifferent to
motion or rest. When in motion it moves for ever un¬
less stopt by some cause, and when at rest it remains so,
unless put in motion by some cause. The cause which
puts matter in motion is called a force. The nature of
moving forces is altogether unknown, but we can mea¬
sure their effects.
Whenever a force acts upon matter it puts it in mo¬
tion, if no other force prevent this effect $ the straight
line which the body describes, is called the direction of
the force. Two forces may act upon matter at the same
time. If their direction be the same, they increase the
motion $ if their direction be opposite they destroy each
other j and the motion is nothing if the two forces be
equal; it is merely the excess of the one force above the
other if the motions be unequal. If the directions of the
two forces make with each other any angle whatever,
the resulting motion will be in a direction between the
two. And it has been demonstrated, that if lines be
taken to represent the direction and amount of the
forces, if these lines be converted into a parallelogram
by drawing parallels to them; the diagonal of that
parallelogram will represent the direction and quantity
of the resulting motion. This is called the composition
of forces.
For two forces thus acting together, we may substi¬
tute their result, and vice versa. Hence we may de¬
compose a force into two others, parallel to two axes
situated in the same plane, and perpendicular to each
other.
Thus finding that a body A, fig. liy. has mov¬
ed from A to C, we may imagine either that the
body has been impelled by a single force in the direc¬
tion of AC, and proportionate to the length of AC,
or that it has been impelled by two forces at once, viz.
by one in the direction of AD, and proportionate to
the length of AD ; and by another force in the direc¬
tion of AB or DC, and proportionate to AB or DC.
Therefore, if two sides of any triangle (as AD and
DC) represent both the quantities and the directions
of two forces acting from a given point, then the third
side (as AC) of the triangle will represent both the
quantity and the direction of a third force, which act¬
ing from the same point, will be equivalent to the other
two, and vice versa.
Thus also in fig. Ii8. finding that the body A has
moved along the line AF from A to F in a certain
time 5 we may imagine, 1st, that the body has been im¬
pelled by a single force in the direction and quantity re¬
presented by AF ; or 2dly, that it has been impelled by
two forces, viz. the one represented by AD, and the
other represented by AE ; or thirdly, that it has been
impelled by three forces, viz. those represented by AD,
AB, and AC } or lastly, that it has been impelled by
any other number of forces in any directions ; provided
all these forces be equivalent to the single force which is
represented by AF.
This supposition of a body having been impelled by
two or more forces to perform a certain course j or, on
the contrary, the supposition that a body has been im¬
pelled by a single force, when the body is actually known
to have been impelled by several forces, which are, how¬
ever, equivalent to that single force $ has been called the
composition and resolution of forces.
The knowledge of these principles gives mathema-ResoluL
ticians an easy method of obtaining the result of any of forces,
number of forces whatever acting on a body. For
every particular force may be resolved into three
others, parallel to three axes given in position, and per¬
pendicular to each other. It is obvious, that all the
forces parallel to the same axis are equivalent to a
single force, equal to the sum of all those which act in
one direction, diminished by the sum of those which
act
( IfOt
35
;ity.
t!lrt IV. ASTR
leery of act in tlie opposite direction. Thus the body will be
liiversal acted on by three forces perpendicular to each other:
if the direction of these forces be represented by the
sides of a parallelepiped, the resulting force will be re¬
presented by the diagonal of that parallelepiped.
The indifference of a material body to motion or
rest, and its perseverance in either state when put into
it, is called the vis inertias of matter. This property is
considered as the first law of motion. Hence, when¬
ever the state of a body changes, wTe ascribe the change
to the action of some cause: hence the motion of a
body when not altered by the action of some new force,
must be uniform and in a straight line.
In such uniform motions the space passed over is pro¬
portional to the time : but the time employed to de¬
scribe a given space will be longer or shorter according
to the greatness of the moving force. This difference
in the time of traversing the same space gives us the
notion of velocitij, which in uniform motions is the ra¬
tio between the space and the time employed in tra¬
versing it. As space and time are heterogeneous quan¬
tities, they cannot indeed be compared together; it is
the ratio between the numbers representing each that
constitutes velocity. A unity of time, a second for in¬
stance, is chosen, and in like manner a unity of space,
as a foot. Thus, if one body move over 20 feet in one
second, and another only 10, then the velocity of the
first is double that of the second; for the ratio between
20 and i is twice as great as the ratio* of io to I.
When the space, time, and velocity, are represented by
numbers, we have the space equal to the velocity mul¬
tiplied by the time, and the time equal to the space di¬
vided by the time.
The force by which a body is moved is proportional
to the velocity, and therefore is measured by the velo¬
city. This has been disputed by some philosophers,
but has been sufficiently established. We shall consi¬
der it, therefore, as a matter of fact, referring the read¬
er for a discussion of the subject to the article Dy¬
namics.
lerat- When a body is put in motion by forces which not
wiirees. only act at first, but which continue to act uniformly,
it will describe a curve line, the nature of which de¬
pends upon the forces which occasion the motion.
Gravitation is an instance of a force which acts in this
manner. Let us consider it a little. It appears to act
in the same manner in a body at rest and in motion.
A body abandoned to its action acquires a very small
velocity the first instant; the second instant it acquires
a new velocity equal to what it had the first instant;
and thus its velocity increases every instant in propor¬
tion to the time. Suppose a right-angled triangle, one
of the sides of which represents the time, and the other
the velocity. The fluxion of the surface of the tri¬
angle being equal to the fluxion of the time multiplied
by that of the velocity, will represent the fluxion of
the space. Hence the whole triangle will represent
the space described in a given time. But the triangle
increasing as the square of either of its sides, it is ob¬
vious, that in the accelerated motion produced by gra¬
vitation, the velocities increase with the times, and
the heights from which a body falls from rest increase
as the squares of the times or of the velocities. Hence,
if we denote by i the space through which a body falls
Vol. III. Part I, : f
O N O M Y. ri3
the first second, it will fall 4 in 2", 9 in 3", and so on ; Theory of
so that every second it will describe spaces increasing Universal
as the odd numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, &c. This important
point will perhaps be rendered more intelligible by the , li°n’ f
following diagram. *
Let AB, fig. 119. represent the time during which a
body is descending, and let BC represent the velocity
acquired at the end of that time. Complete the tri¬
angle ABC, and the parallelogram ABCD. Also
suppose the time to be divided into innumerable parti¬
cles ei, im, mp, po, &c. and draw ef ik, mn, &c. all
parallel to the base BC. Then, since the velocity of
the descending body has been gradually increasing from
the commencement of the motion, and BC represents
the ultimate velocity; therefore the parallel lines e/,
ik, mn, &c. will represent the velocities at the ends
oi the respective times Ae, Az', Am, &c. Moreover,
since the velocity during an indefinitely small particle
of time may be considered as uniform ; therefore the
right line ef will be as the velocity of the body in the
indefinitely small particle of time ei; ik will be as the
velocity in the particle of time im, and so forth. Now
the space passed over in any time with any velocity is
as the velocity multiplied by the time ; viz. as the
rectangle under that time and velocity; hence the space
passed over in the time ef with the velocity ef, will be
as the rectangle if; the space passed over in the time
zm with the velocity ik, will be as the rectangle mk ;
the space passed over in the time mp with the velocity
m 11, will be as the rectangle pn, and so on. Therefore
the space passed over in the sum of all those times, will
be as the sum of all those rectangles. But since the
particles of time are infinitely small, the sum of all the
rectangles will be equal to the triangle ABC. Now
since the space passed over by a moving body in the time
AB with a uniform velocity BC, is as the rectangle
ABCD, (viz. as the time multiplied by the velocity)
and this rectangle is equal to twice the triangle ABC
(Eucl. p. 31. B. I.) therefore the space passed over in
a given time by a body falling from rest, is equal to
half the space passed over in the same time with an
uniform velocity, equal to that which is acquired by the
descending body at the end of its fall.
Since the space run over by a falling body in the
time represented by AB, fig. 120. with the velocity BC
is as the triangle ABC, and the space run over in any
other time AD, and velocity DE, is represented by
the triangle ADE ; those spaces must be as the squares
of the times AB AD ; for the similar triangles ABC,
and ADE, are as the squares of their homologous sides,
viz. ABC is to ADE as the square of AB is to the
square of AD, (Eucl. p. 29. B. VI.).
When a body is placed upon an inclined plane, the
force of gravity which urges that body downwards, acts
with a power so much less, than if the body descended
freely and perpendicularly downwards, as the elevation
of the plane is less than its length.
The space which is described by a body descending
freely from rest towards the earth, is to the space which
it will describe upon the surface of an inclined plane in
the same time as the length of the plane is to its eleva¬
tion, or as radius is to the sine of the plane’s inclina¬
tion to the horizon.
If upon the elevation BC, fig. 121. of the plane BD,
I* as
ASTRONOMY. Part IV
Theory of as a diameter, the semicircle BEGC be described, the
Universal part BE of the inclined plane, which is cut off by the
Gravita- semicircle, is that part of the plane dver which a body
. u^t1, , will descend, in the same time that another body will
descend freely and perpendicularly along the diameter
of the circle, viz. from B to C, which is the altitude of
the plane, or sine of its inclination to the horizon.
The time of a body’s descending along the whole
length of an inclined plane, is to the time of its de¬
scending freely and perpendicularly along the altitude
of the plane, as the length of the plane is to its alti¬
tude j or as the whole force of gravity is to that part of
it which acts upon the plane.
A body by descending from a certain height to the
same horizontal line, will acquire the same velocity whe¬
ther the descent be made perpendicularly or obliquely,
over an inclined plane, or over many successive inclined
planes, or lastly over a curve surface.
From these propositions, which have been sufficiently
established by mathematicians, it follows, that in the
circle ABC (fig. 122), a body will fall along the dia¬
meter from A to B, or along the chords CB, DB, in
exactly the same line by the action of gravity.
When a body is projected in any line whatever not
perpendicular to the earth’s surface, it does not conti¬
nue in that line, but continually deviates from it, de¬
scribing a curve, of which the primary line of direc¬
tion is a tangent. The motion of the body relative to
this line is uniform. But if vertical lines be drawn from
this tangent to the curve, it will be perceived that its
velocity is unifor mly accelerated in the direction of these
verticals. They are proportional to the squares of the
corresponding parts of the tangent. This property
shows us that the curve in which the body projected
moves is a parabola.
Of the The oscillations of the pendulum are regulated like-
pendulum. wise by the same law of gravitation. The fundamen¬
tal proportions respecting pendulums are the follow-
ing:
If a pendulum be moved to any distance from its
natural and perpendicular direction, and there be let
go, it will descend towards the perpendicular ; then it
will ascend on the opposite side nearly as far from the
perpendicular, as the place whence it began to descend 5
after which it will again descend towards the perpen¬
dicular, and thus it will keep moving backwards and
forwards for a considerable time ; and it would conti-
nue to move in that manner for ever, were it not for
the resistance of the air, and the friction at the point of
suspension, which always prevent its ascending to the
same height as that from which it lastly began to de¬
scend.
The velocity of a pendulum in its lowest point is as
the chord of the arch which it has described in its de¬
scent.
The very small vibrations of the same pendulum are
performed in times nearly equal 5 but the vibrations
through longer and unequal arches are performed in
times sensibly different.
As the diameter of a circle is to its circumference, so
is the time of a heavy body’s descent from rest through
half the length of a pendulum to the time of one of the
smallest vibrations of that pendulum.
It is from these propositions, and the experiments
made with pendulums, that the space described by a
3
body falling from rest by the action of gravity has been Theory of
ascertained. Universal
The late Mr John Whitehurst, an ingenious mem- Gravita.
ber of the Royal Society, seems to have contrived and . tl°n’
performed the least exceptionable experiments rela¬
tively on this subject. The result of his experiments
shews, that the length of the pendulum which vibrates
seconds in London, at 113 feet above the level of the
sea, in the temperature of 6o° of Fahrenheit’s thermo¬
meter, and when the barometer is at 30 inches, is
39,1196 inches ; whence it follows that the space which
is passed over by bodies descending perpendicularly, in
the first second of time, is 16,087 feet. This length
of a second pendulum is certainly not mathematically
exact, yet it may be considered as such for all common
purposes ; for it is not likely to differ from the truth by
more than ToVs-th part of an inch.
By these propositions, also, the variations of gravity
in different parts of the earth’s surface and on the tops
of mountains has been ascertained. Newton also has
shown, by means of the pendulum, that gravity does
not depend upon the surface nor figure of a body.
The motion of bodies round a centre affords another of central
well known instance of a constant force. As the mo-forces,
tion of matter left to itself is uniform and rectilinear,
it is obvious that a body moving in the circumference
of a curve, must have a continual tendency to fly off at
a tangent. This tendency is called a centrifugalforce,
while every force directed towards a centre is called a
central or centripetal force. In circular motions the
central force is equal, and directly contrary, to the
centrifugal force. It tends constantly, to bring the
body towards the centre, and in a very short interval of
time, its effect is measured by the versed sine of the
small arch described.
Let A (fig. 123.) be the centre of a force. Let a
body in B be moving in the direction of the straight
line BC, in which line it would continue to move if
undisturbed •, but being attracted by the centripetal
force towards A, the body must necessarily depart from
this line BC; and being drawn into the curve line BD,
must pass between the lines AB and BC. It is evi¬
dent, therefore, that the body in B being gradually
turned off from the straight line BC, it will at first be
convex towards that line, and concave towards A. And
that the curve will always continue to have this conca¬
vity towards A, may thus appear: In the line BC,
near to B, take any point, as E, from which the line
EFG may be so drawn as to touch the curve line BD
in some point, as F. Now, when the body is come to
F, if the centripetal power were immediately to be
suspended, the body would no longer continue to move
in a curve line, but, being left to itself, would forth¬
with reassume a straight course, and that straight course
would be in the line FG ; for that line is in the direc¬
tion of the body’s motion of the point F. But the cen¬
tripetal force continuing its energy, the body will be
gradually drawn from this line FG so as to keep in the
line FD, and make that line, near the point F, to be
concave towards the point A ; and in this manner the
body may be followed in its course throughout the line
BD, and every part of that line be shown to he concave
towards the point A.
Again, the point A (fig. 124.) being the centre of
a centripetal force, let a body at B set out in the di¬
rection
ft
:S
Cr
firt IV. ASTRONOMY.
"neory of rection of the straight line BC, perpendicular to the
tuvei-sal jjne jt wjjj jjg eas]]y conceived, that there is no
Ira vita- - -
tion.
other point in the line BC so near to A as the point
t B j that AB is the shortest of all the lines which can
be drawn from A to any part of the line BC ; all others,
as AD or AE, being longer than AB. Hence it fol¬
lows, that the body setting out from it, if it moved in
the line BC, would recede more and more from the
point A. Now, as the operation of a centripetal force
is to draw a body towards the centre of that force, if
such a force act upon a resting body, it must neces¬
sarily put that body so into motion as to cause it move
towards the centre of the force : if the body were of
itself moving towards that centre, it w’ould accelerate
that motion, and cause it to move faster down ; but if
the body were in such a motion that it would of itself
recede from the centre, it is not necessary that the ac¬
tion of a centripetal power should make it immediately
approach the centre from which it would otherwise
have receded ; the centripetal force is not without ef¬
fect if it cause the body to recede more slowly from
that centre than otherwise it would have done. Thus,
the smallest centripetal power, if it act on the body,
will force it out of the line BC, and cause it to pass
in a bent line between BC and the point A, as has
been already explained. When the body, for instance,
has advanced to the line AD, the effect of the centri¬
petal force discovers itself by having removed the body
out of the line BC, and brought it to cross the line
AD somewhere between A and D, suppose at F. Now,
AD being longer than AB, AF may also be longer
than AB. The centripetal power may indeed be so
strong, that AF shall be shorter than AB 5 or it may
be so evenly balanced with the progressive motion of
the body that AF and AB shall be just equal 5 in
which case the body would describe a circle about the
centre A : this centre of the force being also the centre
of the circle.
If now the body, instead of setting out in the line
BC perpendicular to AB, had set out in another line
BG more inclined towards the line AB, moving in
the curve line BH j then, as the body, if it were to
continue its motion in the line BG, would for some time
approach the centre A, the centripetal force would cause
it to make greater advances towards that centre : But
if the body were to set out in the line BI, reclined the
other way from the perpendicular BC, and were to be
drawn by the centripetal force into the curve line BK;
the body, notwithstanding any centripetal force, would
for some time recede from the centre ; since some part
at least of the curve line BK lies between the line BI
and the perpendicular BC.
Let us next suppose a centripetal power directed to¬
ward the point A (fig. 109.), to act on a body in B,
which is moving in the direction of the straight line
BC, the line BC reclining off from AB. If from A
the straight lines AD, AE, AF, are drawn to the line
CB, prolonged beyond B to G, it appears that AD is
inclined to the line GC more obliquely than AB,
AE more obliquely than AD, and AF than AE •,
or, to speak more correctly, the angle under ADG is
less than that under ABG, that under AEG is less
than ADG, and AFG less than AEG. Now sup¬
pose the body to move in the curve line BHIK, it is
likewise evident that the line BHIK being concave
t is
towards A. and convex towards BC, it is more and Theory of
more turned off from that line : so that in the point H, Universal
the line AK will be more obliquely inclined to the ^,l^V:ta-
curve line BHIK than the same line AHD is inclined    ,
to BC at the point D j at the point I the inclination
of the line AI to the curve line will be more differ¬
ent from the inclination of the same line AIE to the
line BC at the point IE ; and in the points K and F
the difference of inclination will be still greater ; and
in both, the inclination at the curve will be less ob¬
lique than at the straight line BC. But the straight
line AB is less obliquely inclined to BG than AD is
inclined towards DG : therefore, although the line
AH be less obliquely inclined towards the curve HB
than the same line AHD is inclined towards DG,
yet it is possible, that the inclination at H may be
more oblique than the inclination at B. The incli¬
nation at H may indeed be less oblique than the other,
or they may be both the same. This depends upon
the degree of strength wherewith the centripetal force
exerts itself during the passage of the body from B to
H : and in like manner the inclinations at I and K
depend entirely on the degree of strength wherewith
the centripetal force acts on the body in its passage
from H to K: if the centripetal force be tveak enough,
the lines AH and AI drawn from the centre A to the
body at H and at I, shall be more obliquely inclined
to the curve than the line AB is inclined towards BG.
The centripetal force may be of such a strength as to
render all these inclinations equal ; or if stronger, the
inclination at I and K will be less oblique than at B ;
and Sir Isaac Newton has particularly shown, that if
the centripetal power decreases after a certain manner
without the increase of distance, a body may describe
such a curve line, that all the lines drawn from the
centre to the body shall be equally inclined to that
curve line.
We must further remark, that if the centripetal Revolutioti
power, while the body increases its distance from the°falj0<*?
round a
centre efc«
centre, retain sufficient strength to make the lines^ ^
drawn from the centre to the body to become at plained!^
length less oblique to the curve : then, if this diminu¬
tion of the obliquity continue, till at last the line
drawn from the centre to the body shall cease to be
obliquely inclined to the curve, and become perpendi¬
cular thereto ; from this instant the body shall no
longer recede from the centre, but in its following mo¬
tion shall again descend, and describe a curve in all
respects like that which it has described already, pro¬
vided the centripetal power, everywhere at the same
distance from the body, acts with the same strength.
This return of the body may be proved by the follow¬
ing proposition : That if the body in any place, sup¬
pose at I, were to be stopped, and thrown directly
backward with the velocity wherewith it was moving
forward in that point I, then the body, by the action
of the centripetal force upon it, would move back again
over the path IHB, in which it had before advanced
forward, and would arrive again at the point B in the
same space of time as was taken up in its passage from
B to I 5 the velocity of the body at its return from
the point B being the same as that wherewith it first
set out from that point.
The truth of this proposition may be illustrated in
the following manner. Suppose, in fig. no. that a
F 2 body
u6 ASTRONOMY.
Theory of were carried after the following manner through passed through it undisturbed.
tion.
Universal the bent figure ABCDEF, composed of the straight
Gravita- lines AB, BC, CD, DE, EE : let the body then first
be supposed to receive an impulse to some point within
the concavity of the figure, as G. Now, as this body,
when once moving in the straight line AB, will conti¬
nue to move on in this line as long as it shall be left to
itself; but being disturbed at the point B by the im¬
pulse given it, it will be turned out of this line AB into
some other straight line, -wherein it will afterwards con¬
tinue to move as long as it shall be left to itself; there¬
fore, let this impulse have strength sufficient to turn the
body into the line BC j then let the body move on un¬
disturbed from B to C: but at C let it receive another
impulse pointed also towards G, and of sufficient strength
to turn the body into the line CD ; at D let a third im¬
pulse turn it into the line DE} and at E let another
turn it into EF. Now, if the body, while moving on
m the line EF, be stopped and turned hack again with
the same velocity with which it was moving forward,
then by the repetition of the former impulse at E, the
body will be turned into the line ED, and move in it
from E to D with the same velocity as that wherewith
it was moving forwai’d in this line : then by a repeti¬
tion of the impulse at D, when the body shall have re¬
turned to that point, it will be turned into the line
DC } and by the repetition of the former impulses at C
and at B, the body will be brought back again into the
line BA, with the velocity wherewith it first moved in
that line.
To illustrate this still farther, let DE and EE he con¬
tinued beyond E. In DE thus continued, take at plea¬
sure the length EH, and let HI be so drawn as to be
equidistant from the line GE ; then, from the second
law of motion, it follows, that after the impulse on the
body on E, it will move through the space El in the
same time it would have employed in moving from E
to II with the velocity it had in the line DE. In
FE prolonged, take EKi equal to El, and draw KL
equidistant from GE. Then because the body is
thrown back in the line FE, with the same velocity
with which it went forward in that line, if, when the
body was turned to E, it were permitted to go
straight on, it would pass through EK in the same
time as it took up in passing through El, when it went
forward in the line EF. But if, at the body’s return
to the point E, such an impulse directed toward the
point D were to be given it as was sufficient to turn it
into the line DE, it is plain that this impulse must be
equal to that which originally turned the body out of
the line DE into EF j and that the velocity with
which the body will return into the line ED is the
same as that wherewith it moved before through this
line from D to E. Because EK is equal to El, and
KL and HI being each equidistant from GE, are by
consequence equidistant from each other ; it follows,
that the two triangular figures IEH and KEL, are
altogether like and equal to each other. EK there¬
fore being equal to El, and EL equal to KH, and
KL equal to HL, it is plain, that the body, after its
return to E, being turned out of the line FE into ED
by an impulse acting upon it in E after the manner
above mentioned, it will receive such a velocity by
this impulse as will carry it through EL in the same
time it would have taken to go through EK, if it had
2
Part IV,
It has already been Theor,<
observed, that the time in which the body would pass Universal
over EK, with the velocity wherewith it returns, is Gravita-
equal to the time it took up in going forward from E ^on
to I; that is, to the time in which it would have gone v"'
through EH with the velocity wherewith it moved
from D to E j therefore the time in which the body
will pass from E to L, after its return into the line
ED, is the same as would have been taken up by the
body in passing through the line EH with the velocity
wherewith it first moved in the line DE. Since, there¬
fore, EL and EH are equal, the body returns into
the line DE -with the velocity which it had before in
that line—Again, we may affirm, that the second
impulse in E is equal to the first 5 for, as the impulse
in E, whereby the body was turned out of the line
DE into the line EF, is of such strength, that if the
body had been at rest when this impulse had acted up¬
on it, it would have communicated as much motion
to it, as would have been sufficient to carry it through
a length equal to FII, in the time wherein the body
would have passed from E to H, or in the time
wherein it passed from E to I. In the same manner,
on the"return of the body, the impulse in E, whereby
it is turned out of the line FE into ED, is of such
strength, that if it had acted on the body at rest, it
would have caused it move through a length equal to
KL in the same time as the body would employ in
passing through EK with the velocity wherewith it re¬
turns in the line FE: therefore the second impulse,
had it acted on the body at rest, would have caused it
to move through a length equal to KL, in the same
space of time as would have been taken up by the body-
in passing through a length equal to HI were the first
impulse to act on the body while at rest j that is, the
effects of the first and second impulse on the body when
at rest would be the same 5 for KL and HI are equal:
Consequently the second impulse is equal to the first.
Thus, if the body be returned through EE with the
velocity wherewith it moved forward, it has been
shown how, by the repetition of the impulse which
acted on it in E, the body will return again into the
line DE with the velocity which it had before in that
line. By the same method of reasoning it may be
proved, that when the body is returned back to D,
the impulse which before acted on that point will
throw the body into the line DC with the velocity
which it first had in that line j and the other impulses
being successively repeated, the body will at length be
brought back again into the line BA with the velocity
wherewith it set out in that line.—Thus these impul¬
ses, by acting over again in an inverted order all their
operations on the body, bring it back again through
the path in which it had proceeded forward j and this
obtains equally whatever be the number of straight
lines whereof this curve figure is composed. Now, by
a method of reasoning of which Sir Isaac Newton
made much use, and which he introduced into geo¬
metry, thereby greatly enriching that science, we
might make a transition from this figure, composed of
a number of straight lines, to a figure of one continued
curvature, and from a number of separate impulses re¬
peated at distinct intervals to a continued centripetal
force, and show that because what has been here ad¬
vanced holds universally true whatever be the num¬
ber
I'lPft IV.
Ion.
ASTRO
Ttyryof her °f straight lines whereof the curve figure ACF is
t%ersal composed, and however frequently the impulses at the
CJivita- angles of this figure are repeated j therefore the same
t will still remain true although this figure should be
converted into one of a continued curvature; and
these distinct impulses should be changed into a conti¬
nual centripetal force.
This being allowed, suppose the body in K to have
the line AK no longer obliquely inclined to its mo¬
tion. In this case, if the body be turned back in the
manner we have been considering, it must be directed
back perpendicularly to AK : but if it had proceeded
forward, it would likewise have moved in a direction
perpendicular to AK: consequently, whether it move
from this point K backward or forward, it must de¬
scribe the same kind of course. Therefore, since by
being turned back it will go over again the line KIHB,
if it be permitted to go forward, the line KL, which
it shall describe, will be altogether similar to the line
KHB.
In like manner we may determine the nature of the
motion, if the line wherein the body sets out be in¬
clined, as in fig. 127. down toward the line BA drawn
between the body and the centre. If the centripetal
power so much increases in strength as the body ap¬
proaches, that it can bend the path in which the body
moves to that degree as to cause all the lines, AH,
AI, AK, to remain no less oblique to the motion of
the body than AB is oblique to BC, the body shall
continually more and more approach the centre. But
if the centripetal power increases in so much less a
degree as to permit the line drawn from the centre to
the body, as it accompanies the body in its motion, at
length to become more and more erect to the curve
wherein the body moves, and in the end, suppose at K,
to become perpendicular to it $ from that time the bo¬
dy shall rise again. This is evident from what has
been said above j because, for the very same reason, here
also, the body will proceed from the point K to describe
a line altogether similar to that in which it has moved
from B to K. Thus it happens as in the pendulum,
whichj all the time it approaches a perpendicular posi¬
tion towards the horizon, descends more and more j
but as soon as it is come into that situation, it imme¬
diately rises again by the same degrees as it descended
before : so here the body more and more approaches
the centre all the time it is moving from B to K ; but
thenceforward it rises from the centre again by the
same degrees as it approached before.
If, as in fig. 127. the line BC be perpendicular to
N O M Y.
AB j then, as has already been observed, the centri¬
petal power may be so balanced with the progressive
motion of the body, that it may keep moving round
the centre A constantly at the same distance 5 as the
body does when whirled about any point to which it
is tied by a string. If the centripetal power be too
weak to produce this effect, the motion of the body
will presently become oblique to the line drawn from
itself to the centre ; but if it be stronger, the body
must constantly keep moving in a curve to which a line
drawn from it to the body is perpendicular.
If the centripetal power change with the change of
distance, in such a manner that the body, after its mo¬
tion has become oblique to the line drawn from itself
to the centre, shall again become perpendicular there¬
to ; then the body shall, id its subsequent motion, re¬
turn again to the distance of AB, and from that di¬
stance take a course similar to the former : and thus,
if the body move in a space void of all resistance, which
has been all along supposed, it will continue in a per¬
petual motion about the centre, descending and ascend¬
ing from it alternately.. If the body, setting out from
B (fig. 126.) in the line BC perpendicular to AB,
describe the line BDE, which in X) shall be ob¬
lique to the line AD, but in E shall again become
erect to AE, drawn from the body in E to the centre
A $ then from this point E the body shall describe the
line EFG entirely similar to BDE, and at G shall be
at the same distance as it was at B y and the line AG
shall be erect to the body’s motion. Therefore the
body shall proceed to describe from G the line GHI
altogether similar to the line GFE, and at I it will have
the same distance from the centre as it had at E 3 and
also have the line AI erect to its motion : so that its
subsequent motion must be in the line IKL similar to
IKG, and the distance AL equal to AG. Thus
the body will go on in a perpetual round without cea¬
sing, alternately enlarging and contracting its distance
from the centre.
If it so happen that the point E fall upon the line
BA, continued beyond A 3 then the point G will fall
upon B, I on E, and L also on B; so that the body
will in this case describe a simple curve line round the
centre A, like the line BDEF in fig. 126. in which
it will revolve from P to E, and from E to B, with¬
out end. If AE in fig 126. should happen to be per¬
pendicular to AB, in this case also a simple line will
be described 3 for the point G will fall on the line BA
prolonged beyond A 3 the point I on the line AE pro¬
longed beyond A 5 and the point L on B 3 so that the
body will describe a line like the curve line BEG! in
fig. 128. in which the opposite points B and G are
equally distant from A3 and the opposite points E and
E are also equally distant from the same point A. In
other cases the body will have a course of a more com¬
plicated nature.
Thus it must be apparent how a body, while it is
constantly attracted towards the centre, may notwith¬
standing by its progressive motion keep itself from
falling down to the centre, describing about it an end¬
less circuit, sometimes approaching and sometimes re¬
ceding from it. Hitherto, however, we have suppo¬
sed, that the centripetal power is everywhere of equal
strength at the same distance from the centre : and
this is indeed the case with that power which keeps the
planets in their orbits 3 but a body may be kept on in
a perpetual circuit round a centre, although the cen¬
tripetal power be kept moving in any curve line what¬
ever, that shall have its concavity turned everywhere
towards the centre of the force. To illustrate this, v/e
shall in the first place propose the case of a body moving,
in the incurvated figure ABCDE (fig. 129.), which
is composed of the straight lines, AB, BC, CD, DE,
and AE 3 the motion being carried on in the follow¬
ing manner. Let the body first move in the line AB
with any uniform velocity. When it is arrived at the
point B, let it receive an impulse directed towards any
point F taken within the figure 3 and let the impulse
be of such a strength as to turn the body out of the line
AB into the line. BC: The body after this impulse,
while ~
3 I j-
Theory of
Uni-versal
Gravita¬
tion.
— y-—i-a
340
A body
may be
moved in
any curvili¬
near direc¬
tion by
means of
centripetal
force.
ASTRO
while left to itself, will continue moving in the line BC.
At C let the body receive another impulse directed to¬
wards the same point F, of such strength as to turn it
from the line CB into CD. At D, let the body, by
another impulse, directed likewise towards the point F,
be turned out of the line CD into DE. At E, let ano¬
ther impulse, directed likewise towards the point F, turn
the body from the line DE into EA : and thus the
body will, by means of these impulses, be carried through
the whole figure ABCDE.
Again, when the body is come to the point A, if
it there receive another impulse directed like the rest
to the point F, and of such a degree of strength as to
turn it into the line AB, wherein it first moved ; the
body will then return into this line with the same velo¬
city it had originally. To understand this, let AB
be prolonged beyond B at pleasure, suppose to G ; and
from G let GH be d rawn ; which, if produced, should
always continue equidistant from BF, i. e. let GH be
drawn parallel to BF, in the time, then, in which the
body would have moved from B to G, had it not re¬
ceived a new impulse in B ; by the means of that im¬
pulse it will have acquired a velocity which will carry
it from B to H. After the same manner, if Cl be
taken equal to BH, and IK be drawn parallel to CF,
the body will have moved from C to K, with the ve¬
locity which it has in the line CD, in the same time it
would* have employed in moving from C to I with the
velocity it had in the line BC. Therefore, since Cl
and BH are equal, the body will move through CK
in the same time as it would have taken up in moving
from B to G with the velocity wherewith it moved
through the line AB. Again, DL being taken equal
to CK, and LM drawn parallel to DE'1, the body will
for the same reason as before, move through DM
with the velocity which it has in the line DE, in the
same time it would employ in moving through BG
with its original velocity. Lastly, if EN be taken
equal to DM, and NO he drawn parallel to EF j like¬
wise, if AP be taken equal to EO, and PQ be drawn
parallel to Ah' ; then the body, with the velocity
wherewith it runs into the line AB, will pass through
AQ in the time it would have employed in passing
through BG with its original velocity. Now as all this
follows directly from what has been delivered concern¬
ing oblique impulses impressed upon bodies in motion 5
so we must here observe farther, that it can he proved
by geometry, that AQ will always be equal to BG ;
which, being granted, it follows, that the body has Re¬
turned into the line AB with the swme velocity which
it had when it first moved in that line ; for the velocity
with which it returns into the line AB will carry it
over the line AQ in the same time as would have beeti
taken up in its passing over an equal line BG with the
original velocity.
The conclusion naturally deduced from the above
reasoning is, that by means of a centripetal and pro¬
jectile force, a body may be carried round any fixed
point as a curve figure which shall be concave towards
it, as that marked ABC, fig. 130. and when it is re¬
turned to that point from whence it set out, it shall re¬
cover again the velocity with which it departed from
that point. It is not indeed always necessary that it
should return again into its first course, for the curve
line may have some such figure as ABCDBE in
N O M Y.
ir
34»
laid down the following proposition as a foundation forjyrryal1'
in anj
discovering this, viz. that if a line be drawn from some curye liw
fixed point to the body, and remaining by one ex¬
treme united to that point, it be carried round along
with the body 5 then if the power whereby the body is
kept in its course be always pointed to this fixed point
as a centre, this line will move over equal spaces in
equal portions of time. Suppose a body were moving
through the curve line ABCD (fig. 132.), and passed
over the arches AB, BC, CD in equal portions of
time ; then if a point, as E, can be found, from
whence the line EA being drawn to the body in ac¬
companying it in its motion, it shall make the spaces
EAB, EEC, and ECD, over which it passes, equal
where the times are equal *, then is the body kept in
th is line by a power always pointed to E as a centre.
To prove this, suppose a body set out from the point
A, fig. 133, to move in a straight line AB j and
after it had moved for some time in that line, it were
to receive an impulse directed to some point, as C. Let
it receive that impulse at D, and thereby be turned in¬
to the line DE ; and let the body after this impulse,
take the same time in passing from D to E that is em¬
ployed in passing from A to D. Then the straight
lines CA, CD, and CE being drawn, the triangular
spaces CAD and CDE are proved to be equal in tfie
following manner. Let EF be drawn parallel to CD.
Then it follows, from the second law of motion, that
since the body was moving in the line AB when it re¬
ceived the impulse in the direction DC, it will have mo¬
ved after that impulse through the line DEi in the same
time as it would have moved through DF, provided it
had received no disturbance in D. But the time of the
body’s moving from D to E is supposed to be equal to
the time of its moving through AD 5 therefore the
time which the body would have employed in moving
through DF, had it not been disturbed in D, is equal
to the time wherein it moved through AD : conse¬
quently DF is equal in length to AD ; for if the body
had gone on to move through the line AB without
interruption, it would have moved through all the parts
of it with the same velocity, and have passed over equal
parts of that line in equal portions of time. Now CF be¬
ing drawn, since AD and DF are equal, the triangular
space CDF is equal to the triangular space CAD. E^ur-
ther, the line EF being parallel to CD, it follows from
the 37th proposition of Euclid’s first book, that the tri¬
angle
jive;
Part IV
fig. 131. In this curve line, if the body set out from Theory.
B in the direction BF, and moved through the line Uiiirem
BCD till it returned to B ; here the body would not Gryvita.
enter again into the line BCD, because the two parts, tlon' Jl0!1
BD and BC of the curve line make an angle at the
point B : so that the centripetal power, which at the
point B would turn the body from the line BF into the
curve, will not be able to turn it into the line BC from
the direction in which it returns to the point B. A
forcible impulse must be given the body in the point B
to produce that effect. If, at the point B, whence the
body sets out, the curve line return into itself, as in
fig. 130. then the body, upon its arrival again at B,
may return into its former course, and thus make an
endless circuit about the centre.
The force requisite to carry a body in any curve line Calculatis
proposed, is to be deduced from the curvature which °f the fon
the figure has in any part of it. Sir Isaac Newton hasre<lu'SIte
b ,ri.
:r th
1 m
Nii
Prt IV. ASTRONOMY
H'Tkiry of CED is equal to tlie triangle CF1) : therefore
‘lUmersal the triangle CED is equal to the triangle CAD.
equal to the triangl
In like manner, if the body receive at E another
impulse directed toward the point C, and he turned
by that impulse into the line EG 5 if it move after¬
wards from E to G, in the same space of time as was
taken up by its motion from D to E, or from A to
D ; then CG being drawn, the triangle CEG is equal
to CDE. A third impulse at G, directed as the two
former to C, whereby the body shall be turned into
the line GH, will have also the like effect with the
rest. If the body move over GH in the same time as
it took up in moving over EG, the triangle CGIT
will he equal to the triangle CEG. Lastly, if the
body at H be turned by a fresh impulse directed to¬
wards C into the line HI, and at I by another impulse
directed also to C be turned into the line IK •, and if
the body move over each of the lines HI and IK in
the same time as it employed in moving over each of
the preceding lines AD, DE, EG, and GH : then
each of the triangles CHI and CIK will be equal to
each of the preceding. Likewise, as the time in
which the body moves over ADE is equal to the time
of its moving over EGH, and to the time of its mo¬
ving over HIK; the space CADE will be equal to the
space CEGH and to the space CHIK. In the same
manner, as the time in which the body moved over
ADEG is equal to the time of its moving over
GHIK, so the space CADEG will be equal to the
space CGHIK. Fi’om this principle Sir Isaac Newton
demonstrates the above-mentioned proposition, by mak¬
ing the transition from this incurvated figure composed
of straight lines, to a figure of continued curvation; and
by showing, that since equal spaces are described in
equal times in this present figure composed of straight
lines, the same relation between the spaces described,
and the times of their description, will also have place
in a figure of one continued curvature. He also deduces
from this proposition the reverse of it j and proves, that
whenever equal spaces are continually described, the bo¬
dy is acted upon by a centripetal force directed to the
centre at which the spaces terminate.
As the effect of a central force in a very small inter¬
val of time is measured by the versed sine of the small
s orceThiT arch described, we may easily compare the centrifugal
f jamtion. force produced by the rotation of the earth with gravi¬
tation. At the equator, a body in consequence of the
rotation of the earth describes an arch of I5//of the cir¬
cumference of the earth, in 1" of time. The radius of
the equator is about 19634778 French feet 5 the ver¬
sed sine of which is 0.0389704 feet. At the equator
a body falls 11.23585 French feet in a second. The
centrifugal force is to gravity as 0.0389704 to 1123585,
or nearly as 1 to 288.3. The centrifugal force diminish¬
es gravity, and bodies only fall in consequence of the
excess of the last above the first. If the whole force
whose effect would be evident, were there no rotation,
be called gravity; then at the equator the centrifugal
force is about -5-^ of gravity. If the earth revolved
17 times faster than it does, the arch described in a se¬
cond would be 17 times greater, and its versed sine 289
times longer’, the centrifugal force would then be equal
to gravity, and at the equator, bodies would cease to
have any weight.
/orajri-
on dthe
fpgal
119
In general the expression of a uniformly accelerating Theory of
force, acting constantly towards the same point, is Universal
equal to twice the space which it causes the body to
describe, divided by the square of the time. Every
accelerating force may be supposed constant for a very
small interval of time, and acting in the same direction.
The space described by a body moving in a circle in
consequence of the central force, is the versed sine of
the small arch described ; and this versed sine is very
nearly equal to the square of the arch divided bv radius.
The expression of the accelerating force is then the
square of the arch described, divided by the square of
the time, and by radius. The arch divided by the time
gives the velocity. Hence the centripetal and centrifu¬
gal forces are equal to the square of the velocity divided
by radius.
We have seen that gravity is equal to the square of
the acquired velocity divided by twice the space gone
through. Of course the centrifugal force is equal to
gravity, if the velocity of the revolving body be that
which it would acquire by falling from a height equal
to half the radius of the circumference described. The
velocities of different revolving bodies are as the cir¬
cumferences which they describe divided by the time
of their revolution. These circumstances are as their
radii. The squares of the velocity of course are as the
squares of the radii divided by the squares of the times.
Hence centrifugal forces are to each other as the radii
of the circumferences described divided by the squares of
the times of the revolutions. Flence in different paral¬
lels of latitude, the centrifugal forces produced by the
rotation of the earth are proportional to the radii of
these parallels.
These remarks will give the reader an idea of the
laws of motion. For a more particular investigation he
must have recourse to those articles that treat particu¬
larly of Dynamics.
Chap. II. Of Universal Gravitation.
The principles of dynamics being understood, let us
make use of them to examine the motions of the hea¬
venly bodies, in order to detect the general law's which
produce and regulate these motions.
We have seen that the planets and comets move in pianetsre-
ellipses round the sun, and that the areas described by toIvc round
their radii vectors are proportional to the time. The the sun,
principles of dynamics laid down in the last chapter, in¬
form us that this could not happen unless each of these
bodies were constantly acted on by a force turning them
from the straight line in the direction of the centre of
these radii vectors. Hence it follows, that the planets
are constantly acted upon by a force which urges them
towards the sun as a centre.
Let us suppose that the planets revolve round the]n c^^e_
sun in circles, which is not very far from the truth, quencc of &
In that case, the squares of their velocities are propor-force reT
tional to the squares of the x’adii of their orbits, divided s'ding in
by the squares of the times of their revolution. Buie5Ur,J
by the laws of Kepler, the squares of the times are as
the cubes of the radii of the orbits of the planet, or of
the distance. Therefore, the squares of the velocity are
reciprocally as these I’adii. Perhaps this reasoning will
be better understood by employing symbols. Let t —
the.
I 20
ASTRO
Theory of the tifne, yr: the velocity, and r-=z the radius, we have
Universal r*
Gravita- «*= —. But ^d:r3, therefore, substituting rs in the
tion. t
first formula, we have v*—1-—, but therefore
be better understood if we express it by symbols.
Let c denote the central force, c:
W<
have
* r
for t;* substitute its equivalent —, and we have err---.
i' • r*
..345
This force
of the di¬
stance.
It is true that the orbits of the planets are not ex¬
actly circular j but as the law of the squares of the
times, proportional to the cubes of the distances, is in¬
dependent of the eccentricity of the planetary orbits,
it is natural to suppose, that it would exist, even
though the eccentricity were destroyed. The law,
therefore, that the tendency to the sun is inversely as
the square of the distance, is clearly indicated by this
ratio.
Analogy leads us to suppose, that this law, which
inversely as extends from one planet to another, holds also with
the square respect to the same planet in all its different distances
from the sun. I hat this is actually the case, follows
with certainty from the elliptical orbits of the planets.
When the planet is in its perihelion, its velocity is a
maximum, and its tendency to separate from the sun
in consequence of this velocity overcoming the ten¬
dency towards the sun, the radius vector increases in
length, and forms obtuse angles with the direction of
the planed. Hence it opposes, and of course, tends to
diminish the velocity, till the planet reaches its aphe¬
lion. Then the radius vector becomes perpendicular
to the curve, the velocity is at its minimum j and the
tendency to separate from the sun being less than the
tendency towards the sun, the planet approaches to¬
wards it, describing the second part of its elliptical or¬
bit. In that part, the tendency to the sun increases
the velocity of the planet, as in the former part it had
diminished it: the planet accordingly comes to its pe¬
rihelion with a maximum of velocity. Now the cur¬
vature of the ellipse being the same at the perihelion
and aphelion, the radii of the equicurve circles will be
the same, and, of course, the centrifugal forces in these
two points will be to each other as the squares of the
velocity. The sectors described in the same times be¬
ing equal, the velocities at the aphelion and perihelion
are reciprocally as the corresponding distances of the
planet from the sun. Of course, the squares of the
velocities are reciprocally as the squares of these di¬
stances, or at the perihelion and aphelion the centrifu¬
gal forces are equal to the tendency of the planet to¬
wards the sun. Therefore this tendency is inversely
as the square of the distance of the planet from the
sun.
We see then, in general, that all the planets tend
towards the sun, with a force inversely as the square
34(S
Tendency
the same
in all the
pianets.
tion.
we have or v* always reciprocally proportional
to r. We have seen formerly that the central forces
ot different bodies revolving in a circle, are as the
squares of the velocity divided by the radii of their or¬
bits. Therefore, the tendency of the planets to the
sun, then, are reciprocally as the squares of the radii of
their orbits, or their distance from the sun. This will
N O M Y. Part IV,
of their distance. Newton demonstrated, that this force Theory 0(
would cause them, if projected with a given velocity, to Unbeisa]
describe ellipses round the sun as a centre. He demon-
strated farther, that this tendency is the same in all the
planets, varying only according to their distances. Hence
it follows, that if they were all at rest, and placed at the
same distance from the sun, they would all, in conse¬
quence of this tendency, fall into the sun at the same
instant; the same result must be applied also to the co¬
mets, for in them also the squares of the times are un¬
doubtedly proportional to the cubes of their distance
from the sun.
The satellites tend equally to the sun with the pla-and sat*|.
nets around which they revolve. Were not the moonbtes.
under the influence of this tendency, instead of describ¬
ing a circle round the earth, it would soon abandon it
altogether. Unless the satellites of Jupiter and the
moon tended towards the sun, irregularities would
be perceptible in their orbits, which they do not exhi¬
bit. The planets, comets, and satellites, then, all
tend to the sun in consequence of the action of the
same force. While the satellites move round their
planet, the entire system of planet and satellites is car¬
ried round the sun, and retained in their orbits by the
same force. Of course, the motion of the satellites
round the planet, is merely the same as if the planet
were altogether at rest, and not acted upon by any fo¬
reign body. > 34S
Thus we have been led, without assuming any hypo-Hence tin
thesis, by the necessary consequence of the laws of the sun’sce"tB
celestial movements, to consider the centre of the sun as ^
the focus of -a force, which extends itself indefinitely
through space, diminishing inversely as the squares of the
distance, and which attracts all bodies within the sphere
of its activity. Each of Kepler’s laws points out a pro¬
perty of this attractive force. The law of the areas pro¬
portional to the times, informs us, that the force is di¬
rected towards the sun j the elliptical figure of the pla¬
nets proves to us, that its intensity diminishes as the
square of the distance augments; and the law of the
squares of the times proportional to the cubes of the di¬
stance, informs us, that the tendency, or gravitation of
all the planets to the sun is the same, provided the di¬
stances were the same. We may call this force solar
attraction, supposing, for the sake of a distinct con¬
ception, that it is a force residing in the sun. ^
The tendency or gravitation of the satellites towards SateliitM
their planets is a necessary consequence of the areas de-ten?t0.
scribed by their radii vectors being proportional to thettiei*fn
times; that this gravitation is inversely as the square of
their distance, is indicated by the ellipticity of their or¬
bits. This ellipticity, indeed, being scarcely apparent
in most of the satellites of Jupiter, Saturn,'and Herschel,
would leave some uncertainty, did not the third law,
namely, the squares of the times being inversely as the
cubes of their distance, demonstrate, that from one sa¬
tellite to another, the tendency to the planet is inverse¬
ly as the square of the distance.
This proof, indeed, is wanting with respect toourMocn’i
moon; but the defect maybe supplied by the follow-tendencr
ing considerations. Gravity, or the weight by which ^*2.
a body tends towards the earth, extends itself to the™tion,
top of the highest mountains, and the very trifling di-1*
minution which it experiences at that height, cannot
permit us to doubt, that it would still be sensible at a
considerably
I 21
Prt IV.
Tlbi-y of considerably greater distance from the earth’s centre.
Is it not natural to extend it as far as the moon, and
to suppose that the force which retains that satellite in
its orbit, is its gravitation towards the earth, just as it
is the solar attraction which retains the planets in their
orbits ? The forces at least seem to be of the same na¬
ture ; they both act upon every particle of bodies, and
cause them to move at the same rate : for the solar at¬
traction acts equally upon all bodies placed at the same
distance from the sun, just as gravitation causes all bo¬
dies to fall from the same height with the same velo¬
city. A body projected horizontally, falls upon the
earth at some distance after describing a curve sensibly
parabolic. It would fall at a greater distance, if the
force of projection were more considerable j and, if
projected with a certain velocity, it would not fall back
at all, but revolve round the earth like a satellite. To
make it move in the orbit of the moon, it would be
necessary only to give it the same height and the same
projecting force. But what demonstrates the identity
ol gravitation and of the force which retains the moon
in its orbit is, that if we suppose gravity to diminish in¬
versely as the square of the distance from the centre of
the earth, at the distance of the moon it will be precisely
equal to the moon’s tendency to the earth.
Let A in fig. 134. represent the earth, B the moon,
BCD the moon’s orbit j which differs little from a cir¬
cle of which A is the centre. If the moon in B were
left to itself to move with the velocity it has in the
point B, it would leave the orbit, and proceed straight
forward in the line BE which touches the orbit in B.
Suppose the moon would upon this condition move
from B to E in the space of one minute of time : By
the action of the earth upon the moon, whereby it is
retained in its orbit, the moon will really be found at
xplmed. ilie en(^ minute in the point F, from whence a
straight line drawn to A shall make the space BFA in
the circle equal to the triangular space BEAj so that
the moon in the time wherein it would have moved
from B to E, if left to itself, has been impelled to¬
wards the earth from E to F. And when the time of
the moon’s passing from B to F is small, as here it is
only one minute, the distance between E and F scarce
diflers from the space through which the moon would
descend in the same time if it were to fall directly down
from B toward A without any other motion. AB,
the distance of the moon from the earth, is about 60 of
the semidiameters of the latter; and the moon com¬
pletes her revolution round the earth in about 27 days
7 hours and 43 minutes : therefore the space EF will
here be found by computation to be about i6-j- feet.
Consequently, it the power by which the moon is re¬
tained in its orbit be near the surface of the earth
greater than at the distance of the moon in the dupli¬
cate proportion of that distance, the number of feet a
■»t body would descend near the surface of the earth, by
(Calciiition the action of this power upon it, in one minute would
elo-be equal to the number 16^ multiplied twice into the
fal1'number 60 j that is, to c8oco. But how fast bodies
tali near the surface of the earth may be known by
the pendulum ; and by the exactest experiments, they
are found to descend the space of 16^ feet in one se¬
cond ; and the spaces described by falling bodies be¬
ing in the duplicate proportion of the times of their
fall, the number of feet a body would describe in its
Vol. III. Part L f
ASTRONOMY.
fall near the surface of the earth in one minute of time Theoiy of
will he equal to 16^ twice multiplied by 60 ; the same Universal
as would be caused by the power which acts upon the
moon.
In this computation the earth is supposed to be at
rest: but it would have been more exact to have sup-Earth and
posed it to move, as well as the moon, about their com-moon move
mon centre of gravity j as will be easily understood a*)0Ut t^e’r
from what has been already said concerning the motion cemre'of
of the sun and primary planets about their common gravity,
centre of gravity. The action of the sun upon the
moon is also here neglected ; and Sir Isaac Newton
shows, if you take in both these considerations, the
present computation will best agree to a somewhat
greater distance of the moon and earth, viz. to 60^
semidiameters of the latter, which distance is more con¬
formable to astronomical observations : and these com¬
putations aflord an additional proof that the action of
the earth observes the same proportion to the distance
which is here contended for.
We see then that the force which retains the moon
in its orbit is gravitation, or that force w’hich causes
heavy bodies to fall to the ground. This comparison
between gravity and the lunar tendency to the earth
shows us, that, in our calculations, we ought to measure
distance from the centre of gravity of the sun and of
the planets; for this is obviously the case with the
earth, and its tendency to the sun is precisely the same
with that of the other planets. ^
Hie sun and the planets which have satellites, pos-Planet*
sessing, as we have seen, an attracting force inversely rcac* npoa
as the square of the distance, one is tempted to give the**1® 8U11,
same property to the other planets also. The sphericity
common to all these bodies, indicates clearly, that their
particles are retained round their centre of gravity, by
a force which at equal distances attracts them equally
to that centre. But this important point is not left to
analogical reasoning. We have seen, that if the pla¬
nets and comets were placed at equal distances from
the sun, their gravitation towards it would be pro¬
portional to their masses. But it may be considered as
a general matter of fact, to which there is no excep¬
tion, that action and reaction are equal and contrary.
01 course all these bodies react upon the sun, and at*
tract it in proportion to their mass, and consequently
possess an attractive force proportional to their mass,
and inversely as the square of their distance. The sa¬
tellites also, in consequence ot the same principle, at¬
tract the planets and the sun according to the same law.
This attracting force is then common to all the heaven¬
ly bodies.
This force does not disturb the elliptical motion of
the plants round the sun, when we consider only their
mutual action. For the relative movement of a system
of bodies does not change by giving them a common
motion. Neither is the elliptical motion of the satel¬
lites disturbed by the revolution of the planets round
the sun, for the very same reason.
The attractive force does not belong to these bodies
only as wholes ; but it belongs to every particle of
matter of which each of them is composed. If the sun
acted only upon the centre of the earth, without at¬
tracting every one of the particles of which it is com¬
posed individually, there would result tides incom¬
parably greater, and very different from those that we
Q observe.
122
ASTRONOMY.
355
General
law of gra-
■vitation.
observe. Besides, every body on the earth gravitates
towards its centre, in proportion to its mass. It reacts
of course upon the earth, and attracts it in the same ra¬
tio. Unless that were the case, or if any part of the
earth, however small, did not attract the other part as
it is attracted by it, the centre of gravity of the earth
would be moved in space, in consequence of gravitation J
which is impossible.
All these phenomena, compared with the laws of mo¬
tion, lead us to this grand conclusion : All the'parti¬
cles of matter mutually attract each other, in propor¬
tion to their masses, and inversely as the squares of
their distances. This is called universal gravitation,
and was the discovery which crowned the happy indus¬
try, the consummate skill, and the unrivalled sagacity
of Newton.
In universal gravitation, we readily perceive a cause
of the irregularities and disturbances perceptible in the
planetary motions. For as the planets and comets act
upon each other, they ought to deviate a little from
that exact ellipticity, which they would follow if they
obeyed only the action of the sun. The satellites, dis¬
turbed equally by their mutual attraction, and by that
of the sun, must deviate also from these laws. We see
also, that the particles of which each heavenly body is
composed, provided they be at liberty to move, ought
to form themselves into a sphere, and that the result of
their mutual action at the surface of this sphere ought
to produce all the phenomena of gravity. We see also,
that the rotation of the heavenly bodies round an axis
ought to alter this sphericity somewhat by flattening
them at the poles, and that the result of their mutual
action not passing exactly through their centres of gra¬
vity, ought to produce in their axis of rotation mo¬
tions similar to those which we perceive. We see also,
that the particles of the ocean, unequally attracted by
the sun and moon, ought to have an oscillation similar
to the tides. But it will be necessary to consider the
effects of gravitation more particularly ; in order to
show that it is established in the compietest mdnner by
all the phenomena. This shall be the subject of the
next chapter.
Chap. III. Of the Effects of Gravitation.
We shall in this chapter consider, in the first place,
several points which could only be ascertained by the
assistance of gravitation, and afterwards examine the se¬
veral subjects hinted at towards the conclusion of the
last chapter.
Sect. I. Of the Masses of the Planets.
356 _
Calculation
of the den¬
sities of the
planets.
It would appear, at first view, impossible to ascertain
the respective masses of the sun and planets, and to cal¬
culate the velocity with which heavy bodies fall towards
each when at a given distance from their centres 5 yet
these points may be determined from the theory of gra¬
vitation without much difficulty.
It follows from the theorems relative to centrifugal
forces, given in the first chapter of this part, that the
gravitation of a satellite towards its planet is to the
gravitation of the earth towards the sun, as the mean
distance of the satellite from its primary, divided by
the square of the time of its sidereal revolution, or the
mean distance of the earth from the sun divided by the
1066.08
Jupiter, that of tiny sun being represented by 1. It is
necessary to add unity to the denominator of this frac¬
tion, because the force which retains Jupiter in his
orbit is the sum of the attractions of Jupiter and the
sun. The mass of Jupiter is then —T—The mass
1067.08’
of Saturn and Herschel may be calculated in the same
manner. That of the earth is best determined by the
following method :
If we take the mean distance of the earth from the
sun for unity, the arch described by the earth in a se¬
cond of time will be the ratio of the circumference to
the radius divided by the number of seconds in a side¬
real year. If we divide the square of that arch by the
diameter, we obtain —for its versed sine, which
104
is the deflection of the earth towards the sun in a se¬
cond. But on that parallel of the earth’s surface the
square of the sine of whose latitude is a body falls
in a second i6|- feet. To reduce this attraction to the
mean distance of the earth from the sun, we must di¬
vide the number by the feet contained in that distance ;
but the radius of the earth at the above-mentioned pa¬
rallel is 19614648 French feet. If we divide this num¬
ber by the tangent of the solar parallax, we obtain
the mean radius of the earth’s orbit expressed in feet.
The effect of the attraction of the earth at a di¬
stance equal to the mean radius of its orbit, is equal to
i6T
19614648 b7 tbe cube °f tbe tangent of
the solar parallax — Hence the masses
of the sun and earth are to each other as the numbers
I4795^0,5 a11^ 4*486113 ; therefore the mass of the
earth is
 5—, that of the sun being unity.
329809 °
M. de la Place calculated the masses of Mars and
Venus from the secular diminution of the obliquity of
the ecliptic, and from the mean acceleration of the
moon’s motion, The mass of Mercury he obtained
from its volume, supposing the densities of that planet
and
yV
Part
square of a sidereal year. To bring these gravitations Theory
to the same distance irom the bodies which produce Ttniversi
them, we must multiply them respectively by the squares Gravita.
of the radii of the orbits which are described : and, as ,
at equal distances the masses are proportional to the at-
tractions, the mass of the earth is to that of the sun as
the cube of the mean radius of the orbit of the satel¬
lite, divided by the square of the time of its sidereal
motion, is to the cube of the mean distance of the
earth from the sun, divided by the square of the sidereal
year.
Let us apply this result to Jupiter. The mean di¬
stance of his 4th satellite subtends an angle of 1530".86
decimal seconds. Seen at the mean distance of the
earth from the sun, it would appear under an angle of
7964". 75 decimal seconds. The radius of the circle
contains 636619".8 decimal seconds. Therefore the
mean radii of the orbit of Jupiter’s 4th satellite and of
the earth’s orbit are to each other as these two num¬
bers. The time of the sidereal revolution of the 4th
satellite is 16.6890 days; the sidereal year is 365.2564
days. These data give us   ^ for the mass of
'ivBoiy of ant^ t^ie eartl1 reciprocally as their mean distance
riltlli verbal from the sun, a rule which holds, with respect to the
earth, Jupiter, and Saturn. The following table exhi-
L"“*. bits the masses of the difl’erent planets, that of the sun
.57 being unity :
falb of
IV.
A S T R
he lasses.
)ft:
4
if9
)f Rivity
ttWr
ur(fcs.
Mercury
Venus
Earth
Mars
Jupiter
Saturn
Herschel
2025810
x
-3S3'31
1
329809
1
1846082
1
1067.09
1
3359-4°
1
The densities of bodies are proportional to their
masses divided by their bulks j and, when bodies are
nearly spherical, their bulks are as the cubes of their se¬
midiameters, of course the densities in that case are as
the masses divided by the cubes of the semidiameters.
For greater exactness, we must take that semidiameter
of a planet w-hich corresponds to the parallel, the square
of the sine of which is equal to -f, and which is equal to
the third of the sum of the radius of the pole, and twice
the radius of the equator. This method gives us the
densities of the principal planets as follows, that of the
sun being unity :
Earth 3-93933
Jupiter 0.86014
Saturn 0.49512
Herschel 1.13757
To have the intensity of gravitation at the surface of
the sun and planets, let us consider, that, if Jupiter and
the earth were exactly spherical, and destitute of their
rotatory motion, gravitation at their equators would
be proportional to the masses of these bodies divided by
the squares of their diameters. But at the mean di¬
stance of the sun from the earth, the diameters of the
equators of Jupiter and of the earth are to each other
as the numbers 626.26 and 54.5. If then we represent
the weight of a body at the earth’s equator by I, the
same body, if transported to the equator of Jupiter,
would weigh 2.509. But the difference of the centri¬
fugal forces on the surface of the earth and J upiter ren¬
ders it necessary to diminish this last number by about
f The same body at the surface of the sun would
weigh 27.65.
Sect. II. Of the Perturbations in the Elliptical Orbit
of the Planets.
If the planets were influenced only by the sun, they
would describe ellipses round that luminary: but thev
act upon one another, and from these various attractions
there result disturbances in their elliptical motions, dis¬
coverable by observation, and which it is necessary to
determine, in order to be able to construct accurate ta-
O N O M Y.
bles of the planetary motions. The rigorous solution of
this problem is above the reach of the mathematical ana-
lysis; mathematicians have been obliged to satisfy them¬
selves with approximations.
The disturbances in the elliptical motions of the pla¬
nets may be divided into two classes. The first class
affects the elements of the elliptical motion : they in¬
crease very slowly, and have been called secular inequa¬
lities. The other class depends upon the configuration
of the planets, either with respect to each other, or with
respect to their nodes and perihelions, and are renewed
every time that the relative situation of the planets be¬
comes the same. They are called periodical inequali¬
ties, to distinguish them from the secular, whose periods
are much longer and altogether independent of the mu¬
tual configuration of the planets. Before proceeding
farther, we beg leave to introduce the following quota¬
tion from Dr Pemberton, because it will convey some
notion of these disturbances in a very familiar manner to
our readers.
“ The only inequalities which have been observed
common to all the planets are, the motion of the aphe¬
lion and the nodes. The transverse axis of each orbit
does not remain always fixed, but moves about the sun
with a very slow progressive motion j nor do the planets
keep constantly in the same planes, but change them
and the lines by which these planes intersect each other
by insensible degrees. I he first of these inequalities,
which is the motion of the aphelion, may be accounted
for, by supposing the gravitation of the planets to¬
wards the sun to differ a little farther from the foremen-
tioned reciprocal duplicate proportion of the distances ;
but the second, which is the motion of the nodes, can¬
not be accounted for by any power directed towards the
sun j for no such power can give it any lateral impulse
to divert it from the plane of its motion into any new
plane, but of necessity must be derived from some other
centre. Where that power is lodged, remains to be
discovered. Now it is proved, as shall afterwards be
explained, that the three primary planets, Saturn, Ju-
piter, and the Earth, which have satellites revolving
about them, are endowed with a power of causing bo¬
dies, in particular those satellites, to gravitate towards
them with a force which is reciprocally in the duplicate
proportion of their distances ; and the planets are, in
all respects in which they come under our considera¬
tion, so similar and alike, that there is no reason to
question but they have all the same property, though
it be sufficient for the present purpose to have it proved
of Jupiter and Saturn only ; for these planets contain
much greater quantities of matter than the rest, and
proportionally exceed the others in power. But
the influence of these two planets being allowed, it
is evident how the planets come to shift their places
continually -, for each of the planets moving in a differ¬
ent plane, the action of Jupiter and Saturn upon the
rest will be oblique to the planes of their motion, and
therefore will gradually draw them into new ones.
fI he same action of these two planets upon the rest
will likewise cause a progressive motion of the aphe¬
lion j so that there will be no necessity for having re¬
course to the other cause for this motion, which was
before hinted at, viz. the gravitation of the planets
toward the sun differing from the exact duplicate pro-
Q 2 portion
123
360
Secular and
periodical
inequali¬
ties.
36 r
Motion of
Uie apheli¬
on account¬
ed for.
Saturn
influence
each other’
motions.
I 24
Theory of portion of their distances. And, in the last place, the
Universal action of Jupiter and Saturn upon each other will pro¬
duce in their motions the same inequalities as their
joint action produces upon the rest. All this is effect¬
ed in the same manner as the sun produces the same
kind of inequalities and many others in the motion of
the moon and other secondary planets; and there¬
fore will be best apprehended by what is said after¬
wards. Those other irregularities in the motion of
the secondary planets have place likewise here, but are
too minute to be observable, because they are produced
and rectified alternately, for the most part in the time
of a single revolution ; whereas the motion of the
362 aphelion and nodes, which increase continually, become
Jupiter and sensible after a long series of years. Yet some of these
other inequalities are discernible in Jupiter and Sa-
sturnj in Saturn chiefly: for when Jupiter, who moves
faster than Saturn, approaches to a conjunction with
him, his action upon the latter will a little retard the
motion of that planet; and by the reciprocal action
of Saturn, he will himself be accelerated. After con¬
junction, Jupiter will again accelerate Saturn, and be
likewise retarded in the same degree as before the first
was retarded and the latter accelerated. Whatever
inequalities besides are produced in the motion of Sa¬
turn by the action of Jupiter upon that planet, will be
sufficiently rectified by placing the focus of Saturn’s
ellipsis, which should otherwise he the sun, in the
common centre of gravity of the sun and Jupiter. And
all the inequalities of Jupiter’s motions, caused by the
action of Saturn upon him, are much less considerable
than the irregularities of Saturn’s motion. This one
principle, therefore, of the planets having a power as
well as the sun to cause bodies gravitate towards them,
which is proved by the motion of the secondary planets
to obtain in fact, explains all the irregularities rela¬
ting to the planetary motions ever observed by astrono¬
mers (c).
“ Sir Isaac Newton after this proceeds to make an
improvement in astronomy, by applying this theory to
the farther correction of their motions. For as we
have here observed the planets to possess a principle of
gravitation as w'ell as the sun ; so it will be explained
at large hereafter, that the third law of motion, which
makes action and reaction equal, is to be applied in
this case, and that the sun does not only attract each
planet, but is also itself attracted by them 5 the force
wherewith the planet is acted on, bearing to the force
wherewith the sun itself is acted upon at the same
time, the proportion which the quantity of matter in
the sun bears to the quantity of matter in the planet.
Sun moves From the action of the sun and planet being thus mu-
jound the jua]> gjr lsaac Newton proves that the sun and planet
centre of describe about their common centre of gravity
gravity of similar ellipses 5 and then, that the transverse axis of the
him and the ellipsis, which would be described about the sun at rest
planets. jn t[le lSame time, the same proportion as the quantity
ASTRONOMY.
Method of
correcting
the plane-
taiy mo¬
tions.
364
Part IV
of solid matter in the sun and planet together hears to ’Theory
the first of two mean proportionals between this quantity Univcrs
and the quantity of matter in the sun only. Gravita,
“ It will be asked, perhaps, how this correction can . tl01l‘
be admitted, when the cause of the motions of the ~
planets was before found, by supposing them to be the
centre of the power which acted upon them ? for, ac¬
cording to the present correction, this power appears
rather to be directed to the common centre of gravity.
But whereas the sun was at first concluded to be the
centre to which the power acting on the planets was
directed, because the spaces described in equal times
round the sun were found to be equal j so Sir Isaac
Newton proves, that if the sun and planet move round
their common centre of gravity, yet, to an eye placed
planet, the spaces which will appear to be de-
the
tlie world
scribed about the sun will have the same relation to the
times of their description as the real spaces would if
the sun were at rest. I further asserted, that, sup¬
posing the planets to move round the sun at rest, and
to be attracted by a power which should everywhere
act with degrees of strength reciprocally in the dupli¬
cate proportions of their distances) then the periods of
the planets must observe the same relations to their di¬
stances as astronomers have found them to do. But here
it must not be supposed, that the observations of astrono¬
mers absolutely agree without any the least difference :
and the present correction will not cause a deviation
from any one astronomer’s observations so much as they
differ from one another) for in Jupiter, where this cor¬
rection is greatest, it hardly amounts to the 3000th part
of the whole axis. A
“ Upon this head, I think it not improper to men-Argument
tion a reflection made by our excellent author upon against tk
these small inequalities in the planets motions, which eitern'jj
contains in it a very strong philosophical argument
against the eternity of the world. It is this, that these
inequalities must continually increase by slow degrees,
till they render at length the present frame of nature
unfit for the purposes it now serves. And a more con¬
vincing proof cannot be desired against the present
constitution’s having existed from eternity than this,
that a certain period of years will bring it to an end.
I am aware, that this thought of our author has been
represented even as impious, and as no less than casting
a reflection upon the wisdom of the Author of nature
for framing a perishable work. But I think so bold
an assertion ought to have been made with singular
caution : for if this remark upon the increasing irre¬
gularities in the heavenly motions be true in fact, as it
really is, the imputation must return upon the asser-
tor, that this does not detract from the divine wisdom.
Certainly we cannot pretend to know all the omnisci¬
ent Creator’s purposes in making this world, and there¬
fore cannot pretend to determine how long he designed
it should last ) and it is sufficient if it endure the time
designed by the Author. The body of every animal
shows
uti
Saturn, even before the discovery of the Georgium Sidus. M. de la Lande also has observed some unaccountable
inequalities in the motion of Saturn for more than 30 years past.
t IV. A S T R
ory Of shows the unlimited wisdom of the Author, no less, nay,
versal in many respects more, than the larger frame of nature :
and yet we see they are all designed to last but a small
space of time.”
<3(5 Sir Isaac Newton had no sooner discovered the uni-
Dehetion versality and reciprocity of the deflections of the planets
of Me pin- and the sun, than he also suspected that they were con-
tinually deflected towards each other. He immediately
obtained a general notion of what should be the more
general results of such a mutual action. They may be
conceived in this way.
Let S (fig. 135.) represent the sun, E the earth, and
I Jupiter, describing concentric orbits round the centre
of the system. Make IS : EA=EI* : SI*. Then, if
„/ IS be taken to represent the deflection of the sun to-
ral re-wards Jupiter, EA will represent the deflection of the
wans each
otftr.
!®7
Gearal
sujf such£arth to Jupiter. Draw EB eijual and parallel to SI,
boo aC" ant^ comP^ete the parallelogram EBAD. ED will re¬
present the disturbing force of Jupiter. It may be re¬
solvent into EF perpendicular to ES, and EG in the
direction of SE. By the first of these the earth’s an¬
gular motion round the sun is affected, and by the se¬
cond its deflection towards him is diminished or increa¬
sed.
In consequence of this first part of the disturbing force,
the angular motion is increased, while the earth ap¬
proaches from quadrature to conjunction with Jupiter
(which is the case represented in the figure), and is di¬
minished from the time that Jupiter is in opposition till
the earth is again in quadrature, westward of his oppo¬
sition. The earth is then accelerated till Jupiter is in
conjunction with the sun; after wiiich it is retarded till
the earth is again in quadrature.
I he earth’s tendency to the sun is diminished while
Jupiter is in the neighbourhood of his opposition or con¬
junction, and increased while he is in the neighbourhood
of his stationary positions. Jupiter being about 1000
times less than the sun, and 5 times more remote, IS
must be considered as representing ^T4^th of the
earth’s deflection to the sun, and the forces ED and
EG are to be measured on this scale.
In consequence of this change in the earth’s tenden¬
cy to the sun, the aphelion sometimes advances by the
diminution, and sometimes retreats by the augmenta¬
tion. It advances when Jupiter chances to be in oppo¬
sition when the earth is in its aphelion ; because this di¬
minution of its deflection towards the sun makes it later
before its path is brought from forming an obtuse angle
with the radius vector, to form a right angle with it.
Because the earth’s tendency to the sun is, on the whole,
more diminished by the disturbing force of Jupiter than
it is increased, the aphelion of the earth’s orbit advan¬
ces on the whole.
In like manner the aphelia of the inferior planets ad¬
vance by the disturbing forces of the superior: but the
aphelion of a superior planet retreats ; for these rea¬
sons, and because Jupiter and Saturn are larger and
more powerful than the inferior planets, the aphelia of
them all advance while that of Saturn retreats.
In consequence of the same disturbing forces, the
node ol the ^disturbed planet retreats on the orbit of
the disturbing planet ; therefore they all retreat on
the ecliptic, except that of Jupiter, which advances by
retreating on the orbit ol Saturn, from which it suf¬
fers the greatest disturbance. This is owing to the
O N O M Y. J25
particular position of the nodes and the inclinations of Theory of
the orbits. Universal
The inclination of a planetary orbit increases while <-*rav‘ta-
the planet approaches the node, and diminishes while , t‘on' f
the planet retires from it.
M. de la Place has completed this deduction of the A peculia-
planetary inequalities, by explaining a peculiarity in therky ex¬
motions ol Jupiter and Saturn, which-has long employ-,'n
ed the attention ot astronomers. The accelerations and
retardations of the planetary motions depend, as has and Saturn,
been shown, on their configurations, or the relative
quarters of the heavens in which they are. Those of
Mercury, Venus, the Earth, and Mars, arising from
their mutual deflections, and their more remarkable
deflections to the great planets Jupiter and Saturnr
nearly compensate each other, and no traces of them
remain after a few revolutions : but the positions of the
aphelia of Saturn and Jupiter are such, that the retar¬
dations ol Saturn sensibly exceed the accelerations, and
the anomalistic period of Saturn increases almost a day
every century ; on the contrary, that of Jupiter dimi¬
nishes. M. de la Place shows, that this proceeds from
the position of the aphelia, and the almost perfect com-
mensurability of their revolutions ; five revolutions of
Jupiter making 21,675 days, while two revolutions of
Saturn make 21,538 differing only 137 days.
Supposing the relation to be exact, the theory shows,,
that the mutual actions of these planets must produce
mutual accelerations and retardations of their mean mo¬
tions, and ascertains the periods and limits of the secu¬
lar equations thence arising. These periods include se¬
veral centuries. Again, because this relation is not
precise, but the odd days nearly divide the periods al¬
ready found, there must arise an equation of this secu¬
lar equation, of which the period is immensely longer,
and the maximum very minute. He shews that this
retardation of Saturn is now at its maximum, and is
diminishing again, and will, in the course of years,
change to an acceleration.
This investigation of the small inequalities is the most,
intricate problem in mechanical philosophy, and has
been completed only by very slow degrees, by the ar¬
duous efforts ol the greatest mathematicians, of whom
M. de la Grange is the most eminent. Some of his ge¬
neral results are very remarkable.
He demonstrates, that since the planets move in one
direction, in orbits nearly circular, no mutual disturb¬
ances make any permanent change in the mean distan¬
ces and mean periods of the planets, and that the pe¬
riodic changes are confined within very narrow limits.
The orbits can never deviate sensibly from circles. Oscillation
None of them ever has been or will be a comet moving of the pla¬
in a very eccentric orbit. The ecliptic will never coin-netary sy-
cide with the equator, nor change its inclination above stem*
two degrees. In short, the solar planetary system os¬
cillates, as it were, round a medium state, from which
it never swerves very far.
This theory of the planetary inequalities, founded on
the universal law of mutual deflection, has given to our
tables a precision, and a coincidence with observation,
that surpasses all expectation, and insures the legitimacy
of the theory. The inequalities are most sensible in the
motions of Jupiter and Saturn; and these present them¬
selves in such a complicated state, and their periods are
so long, that ages were necessary for discovering them,
2 by
lion.
370 .
Authenti¬
city of the
Indian a-
stronomy.
.371
Origin of
I 26
Theory of by mere observation. In this respect, therefore, the
Universal theory has outstripped the observations on which it is
<ria\ua- Jj- js very remarkable, that the periods which
the Indians assign to these two planets, and which ap¬
peared so inaccurate that they hurt the credit of the
science of those ancient astronomers, are now found pre*
cisely such as must have obtained about three thousand
years before the Christian era j and thus they give an
authenticity to that ancient astronomy. The periods
which any nation of astronomers assign to those two pla¬
nets would afford no contemptible mean for determining
the age in which it was observed.
The following circumstance pointed out by La Place
is remarkable : Suppose Jupiter and Saturn in conjunc¬
tion in the first degree of Aries ; twenty years after,
the conjunction will happen in Sagittarius j and after
other twenty years, in Leo. It will continue in these
three signs for 200 years. In the year 300 it will hap¬
pen in Taurus, Capricornus, arid Virgo j in the next
tlie^astrolo-200 years’ w‘^ happen in Gemini, Aquarius, and Li-
gieal divi- bra j and in the next 200 years, it will happen in Can-
sion of the cer, Pisces, and Scorpio : then all begins again in Aries,
heavens. Jj. js probable that these remarkable periods of the op¬
positions of Jupiter and Saturn, progressive for 40 years,
and oscillating during 160 more, occasioned the astro¬
logical division of the heavens into the four trigons, of
fire, air, earth, and water. These relations of the sighs,
which compose a trigon, point out the repetitions of the
chief irregularities of the solar system.
M. de la Place observes (in 1796), that the planet
Herschel gives evident marks of the action of the rest $
and that when these are computed and taken into the
account of its bygone motions, they put it beyond doubt
that it was seen by Fiamstead in 1690, by Mayer in
1756, and by Monnier in 1769.
Sect. III. Of the Disturbances in the Elliptical Motion
of the Comets.
Before the time of Sir Isaac Newton it was supposed
that they moved in straight lines : and Descartes, find-
37a ing that such a motion would interfere with his vortices,
Cometsge- removed them entirely out of the solar system. Sir
visible until ^8aac Newton, however, distinctly proves from astrono-
thev come niical observation, that the comets pass through the
nearer than planetary regions, and are generally invisible at a greater
Jupiter. distance than that of Jupiter. Hence, finding that
they were evidently within the sphere of the sun’s ac¬
tion, he concludes, that they must necessarily move
about the sun as the planets doj and he proves, that
the power of the sun being reciprocally in the dupli¬
cate proportion of the distance, every body acted upon
by him must either fall directly down, or move about
him in one of the conic sections; viz. either the ellipsis,
parabola, or hyperbola. If a body which descends to¬
wards the sun as low as the orbit of any planet, move
with a swifter motion than the planet, it will describe
an orbit of a more oblong figure than that of the pla¬
net, and have at least a longer axis. The velocity of
the body may be so great, that it shall move in a para¬
bola, so that having once passed the sun, it shall ascend
for ever without returning, though the sun will still
continue in the focus of that parabola ; and with a ve¬
locity still greater, they will move in an hyperbola. It
is, however, most probable, that the comets move in
very eccentric ellipses, such as is represented in fig. 136.
astronomy.
Part IV
where S represents the sun, C the comet, and ABDE Theory
its orbit; wherein the distance of S and D far exceeds Universal
that of S and A. Hence those bodies are sometimes ^nwita-
found at a moderate distance from the sun, and appear ■ tlon’
within the planetary regions ; at other times they ascend
to vast distances, far beyond the orbit of Saturn, and
thus become invisible. I
That the comets do move in this manner is proved They move
by our author from computations built upon the tib-in eccentiit
servations made by many astronomers. These com-^Po¬
pulations were made by Sir Isaac Newton himself up¬
on the comet which appeared toward the latter end of
the year 1680 and beginning of i68r, and the same
were prosecuted more at large by Dr Halley upon this
and other comets. They depend on this principle, that
the eccentricity of the orbits of the comets is so great,
that if they are really elliptical, yet that part of them
which comes under our view approaches so near to a
parabola that they may be taken for such without any
sensible error, as in the foregoing figure the parabola
FAG, in the lower part of it about A, differs very little ^74
from the ellipsis DFAB ; on which foundation Sir I-How to
saac teaches a method of finding the parabola in which calculate
any comet moves, by three observations made upon it*^e mo^or
in that part of its orbit where it agrees nearest with a pa- ° acolIlet
rabola : and this theory is confirmed by astronomical ob¬
servations ; for the places of the comets may thus be com¬
puted as exactly as those of the primary planets. Our
author afterwards shows how to make use of any small
deviation from the parabola which may be observed, to
determine whether the orbits of the comets be elliptical
or not; and thus to know whether or not the same co¬
met returns at different seasons. On examining by this
rule the comet of 1680, he found its orbit to agree
more exactly with an ellipsis than a parabola, though the
ellipsis be so very eccentric, that it cannot perform its
revolution in 500 years. On this Dr Halley observed,
that mention is made in history of a comet with a simi¬
lar large tail, which appeared three several times be¬
fore. The first was before the death of Julius Csesar ;
and each appearance happened at the interval of 575
years, the last coinciding with the year 1680. He
therefore calculated the motion of this comet to be in
such an eccentric orbit, that it could not return in less
than 575 years : which computation agrees yet more
perfectly with the observations-made on this comet than
any parabolic orbit will do. To compare together dif¬
ferent appearances of the same comet, is indeed the only
method of discovering with certainty the form of its or¬
bit ; for it is impossible to discover the form of one so
exceedingly eccentric from observations taken in a small
part of it. Sir Isaac Newton therefore proposes to com¬
pare the orbits, on the supposition that they are parabo¬
lical, of such comets as appear at difl'erent times ; for if
we find the same orbit described by a comet at different
times, in all probability it will be the same comet that
describes it. Here he remarks from Dr Halley, that
the same orbit very nearly agrees to two appearances of
a comet about the space of 75 years distance ; so that if
these two appearances were really of the same comet,
the transverse axis of its orbit would be 18 times that
of the axis of the earth’s orbit; and therefore, when at
its greatest distance from the sun, this comet would be
removed not less than 35 times the mean distance of
the earth from the same luminary.
The
the comet of 1682, which was to decide whether they
were revolving planets describing ellipses, or bodies
which come but once into the planetary regions, and
then retire for ever, caused the astronomers to consider
affeed by this matter with great care. Halley had shown, in a
t!i« tanet?.roUgj1 wayj that this comet must have been considerably
affected by Jupiter. Their motion near the aphelion
must be very slow, so that a very small change of velocity
or direction, while in the planetary regions, must con¬
siderably affect their periods. Halley thought that the
action of Jupiter might change it half a year. M.Clai-
raut, by considering the disturbing forces of Jupiter and
Saturn through the whole revolution, showed that the
period then running would exceed the former nearly two
years (618 days), and assigned the middle of April 1759
for the time of its perihelion. It really passed its peri¬
helion on the 12th of March. This was a wonderful
precision, when we reflect that the comet had been seen
but a very few days in its former apparitions.
A comet observed by Mr Prosperin and others in
1771 has greatly puzzled the astronomers. Its motions
appear to have been extremely irregular, and it certainly
came so near Jupiter, that his momentary influence was
at least equal to the sun’s. It has not been recognised
since that time, although there is a great probability that
it is continually among the planets.
CoIIh- It is by no means impossible, that, in the course of
queie of a ages, a comet may actually meet one of the planets.
eoi|k and J |ie effect of such a concourse must be dreadful *, a
rt IV.
rv 0f The comets may be considerably affected by the pla-
kcrsal nets. The very important phenomenon of the return of
(Jbita-
lun.
ASTRONOMY.
though the moon if undisturbed by the sun had moved
plait |
■•ertig.
change of the axis of diurnal rotation must result from
it, and the sea must desert its former bed and overflow
the new equatorial regions. The shock and the deluge
must destroy all the works of man, and most of the race.
The remainder, reduced to misery, must long struggle
for existence, and all remembrance of former arts and
events must be lost, and every thing must be invented
anew. I here are not wanting ti'aces of such devasta¬
tions in this globe : strata and things are now found
on mountain tops which were certainly at the bot¬
tom of the ocean in former times ; remains of tropical
animals and plants are now dug up in the circumpolar
regions.
Sect. IV. Of the Irregularities in the Mooli's Motion.
The moon is acted on at once by the sun and the
earth : but her motion round the earth is only disturb¬
ed by the difference of the sun’s action on these two
bodies. If the sun were at an infinite distance it
would act upon them both equally and in a parallel
direction } of course, their relative motion would not
be disturbed. But its distance, though very great, when
compared with that ol the moon, cannot he consider¬
ed as infinite. 1 he moon is alternately nearer and
farther from the sun than the earth, and the straight line
which joins the centre ot the sun and moon forms angles
more or less acute with the radius vector of the earth.
Of course the sun acts unequally, and in different direc¬
tions, upon the earth and moon 5 and from that diversity
of action, there ought to result irregularities in the lunar
motions, depending on the respective situation of the
sun and moon.
Some of these inequalities, however, would take place,
in a circle concentrical to the earth, and in the plane
ot the earth’s motion •, others depend on the elliptical
figure and oblique situation of tbe moon’s orbit. One
of the former is, that the moon does not describe equal
spaces in equal times, but is continually accelerated as
she passes from the quarter to the new or full, and is
retarded again by the like degrees in returning from
the new and full to the next quarter : but here we
consider not so much the absolute as the apparent
motions of the moon with respect to us. These two
may be distinguished in the following manner : JLet
S in fig. 137. represent the sun, A the earth moving
in its orbit BC, DEFG the moon’s orbit, and H the
place of the moon in her orbit. Suppose the earth to
have moved from A to I. Because it has been shown
that the moon partakes of all the progressive motion
of the earth, and likewise that the sun attracts both
the earth and moon equally when they are at the same
distance from it, or that the mean action of the sUn
upon the moon is equal to its action upon the earth j
we must therefore consider the earth as carrying about
with it the moon’s orbit: so that when the earth is
removed from A to I, the moon’s orbit shall likewise
be removed from its former situation into that denoted
by KLMN. But now the earth being in I, if the
moon were found in O, so that OI should be parallel
to HA, though the moon would really have moved
from H to O, yet it would not have appeared to a
spectator upon the earth to have moved at all, because
the earth has moved as much as itself; so that the
moon would still appear in the same place with respect
to the fixed stars. But if the moon be observed in P,
it will then appear to have moved, its apparent motion
being measured by the angle under QIP. And if the
angle under PIS be less than the angle under HAS,
the moon will have approached nearer its conjunction
with the sun. Now, to explain particularly the ine¬
quality of the moon’s motion already mentioned, let S
in fig. 138. represent the sun, A the earth, BCI)E the
moon’s orbit, (J the place of the moon when in the
latter quarter. Here it will be nearly at the same di¬
stance from the sun as the earth is. In this case,
therefore, they will be both equally attracted, the earth
in the direction AS, and the moon in that of CS.
Whence, as the earth, in moving round the sun, is con¬
tinually descending towards it, so the moon in this
situation must in any equal portion of time descend as
much ; and therefore the position of the line AC in
respect of AS, and the change which the moon’s
motion produces in the angle CAS, will not be altered
by the sun : but as soon as the moon is advanced from
the quarter towards the new or conjunction, suppose to
G, the action of the sun upon it will have a different
effect. Were the sun’s action upon the moon here to
be applied in the direction GH parallel to AS, if its
action on the moon were equal to its action on the
earth, no change would be wrought by the sun on the
apparent motion of the moon round the earth. But
the moon receiving a greater impulse in G than the
earth receives in A, were the sun to act in the direc¬
tion GH, yet it would accelerate the description of
the space HAG, and cause the angle under DAG to
decrease faster than it otherwise would. The sun’s
action will have this effect upon account of the ohli-
quity ,
377 .
Inequalities
of the
moon’s mo¬
tion ex¬
plained.
125 A S T R
Theory of quity of its direction to that in which the earth at-
Uuiversat tracts the moon. For the moon by this means is
—- ^rawn by two forces oblique to one another j one
> ,i drawing from G towards A, the other from G towards
H •, therefore the moon must necessarily be impelled
toward D. Again, because the sun does not act in
the direction GH parallel to SA, but in the direction
GS oblique to it, the sun’s action on the moon will,
by reason of this obliquity, farther contribute to the
moon’s acceleration. Suppose the earth, in any short
space of time, would have moved from A to I, if not
attracted by the sun, the point I being in the straight
line CE, which touches the earth’s orbit in A. Sup¬
pose the moon in the same time would have moved in
her orbit from G to K, and besides have partook of
all the progressive motion of the earth. Then, if KL
be drawn parallel to AI, and taken equal to it, the
moon, if not attracted to the sun, would be found in
E. But the earth, by the sun’s action, is removed
from I. Suppose it rvere moved down to M in the
line 1MN parallel to SA, and if the moon were at¬
tracted but as much, and in the same direction as the
earth is here supposed to be attracted, so as to have
descended during the same time in the line LO paral¬
lel also to AS, down as far as P, till LP were equal to
IM, the angle under PMN would be equal to that un¬
der LIN j that is, the moon will appear advanced as
much farther forward than if neither it nor the earth
had been subject to the sun’s action. But this is on the
supposition that the actions of the sun upon the earth
and moon are equal j whereas the moon being acted
upon more than the earth, did the sun’s action draw the
moon in the line LO parallel to AS, it would draw it
down so far as to make LP greater than IM, whereby
the angle under PMN will be rendered greater than
that under LIN. But, moreover, as the sun draws
the earth in a direction oblique to IN, the earth will
be found in its orbit somewhat short of the point M.
However, the moon is attracted by the sun still more
out of the line LO than the earth is out of the lint;
IN ; therefore this obliquity of the sun’s action will
yet farther diminish the angle under PMN. Thus the
moon at the point G receives an impulse from the sun
whereby her motion is accelerated ; and the sun pro¬
ducing this effect in every place between the quarter
and the conjunction, the moon will move from the
quarter w'ith a motion continually more and more ac¬
celerated j and therefore, by acquiring from time to
time an additional degree of velocity in its orbit, the
spaces which are described in equal times by the line
drawn from the earth to the moon will not be every-
where equal, but those toward the conjunction will
be greater than those toward the quarter. But in
the moon’s passage from the conjunction D to the
next quarter, the sun’s action will again retard the
moon, till, at the next quarter at E, it be restored to
the first velocity which it had in C. When the moon
moves from E to the full, or opposition to the sun in
B, it is again accelerated $ the deficiency of the sun’s
action on the moon from what it has upon the earth
producing here the same effect as before the excess of
its action.
Let us now consider the moon in Q as moving from
F. towards B. Here, if she were attracted by the sun
in a direction parallel to AS, yet being acted on less
O N O M Y.
Part IV
than the earth, as the latter descends towards the sun, Theoryo.
the moon will in some measure be left behind. There- Univera
fore, QF being drawn parallel to SB, a spectator on Gravita.
the earth would see the moon move as if attracted ,
from the point Q in the direction QF, with a degree y*"
of force equal to that whereby the sun’s action on the
moon falls short of its action on the earth. But the
obliquity of the sun’s action has here also an effect.
In the time the earth would have moved from A to I
without the influence of the sun, let the moon have
moved in its orbit from Q to R. Drawing, therefore,
RT parallel and equal to AI, the moon, by the mo¬
tion of its orbit, if not attracted by the sun, must be
found in T : and therefore, if attracted in a direction
parallel to SA, would be in the line TV parallel to
AS ; suppose in W. But the moon in Q being far¬
ther off the sun than the earth, it will be less attracted ;
that is TW will be less than IM; and if the line SM
be prolonged towards X, the angle under XMW will
be less than XIT. Thus, by the sun’s action, the
moon’s passage from the quarter to the full would be
accelerated, if the sun were to act on the earth and
moon in a direction parallel to AS j and the obliquity
of the sun’s action will still increase this acceleration :
For the action of the sun on the moon is oblique to the
line SA the whole time of the moon’s passage from Q
to T, and will carry her out of the line TV towards
the earth. Here we suppose the time of the moon’s
passage from Q to T so short, that it shall not pass be¬
yond the line SA. The earth will also come a little
short of the line IN, as was already mentioned j and
from these causes the angle under XMW will be still
farther lessened. The moon, in passing from the oppo- ‘
sition B to the next quarter, will be retarded again by
the same degrees as it was accelerated before its appulse
to the opposition 5 and thus the moon, by the sun’s
action upon it, is twice accelerated and twice restored
to its first velocity every circuit it makes round the
earth ; and this inequality of the moon’s motion about
the earth is called by astronomers its variation.
The next effect of the sun upon the moon is, that
it gives the orbits of the latter in the quarters a greater the sun’s
degree of curvature than it would receive from the attractios
earth alone: and, on the contrary, in the conjunction'" differ{!
and opposition the orbit is less inflected. When theparts,°„!’
moon is in the conjunction with the sun at D, the lat-bit.
ter attracting her more forcibly than it does the earth,
the moon is by that means impelled less to the earth
than otherwise it would be, and thus the orbit is less in-
curvated 5 for the power by which the moon is impel¬
led towards the earth being that by which it is inflect¬
ed from a rectilinear course, the less that power is, the
less it will be inflected. Again, when the moon is in
the opposition in B farther removed from the sun than
the earth is, it follows, then, that though the earth
and moon are both continually descending toward the
sun, that is, are drawn by the sun towards itself out
of the place they would otherwise move into, yet the
moon descends with less velocity than the earth: inso¬
much that, in any given space of time from its passing
the point of opposition, it will have less approached the
earth than otherwise it would have done; that is, its
orbit, in respect to the earth, will approach nearer to
a straight line. Lastly, when the motion is in the quar¬
ter in F, and equally distant from the sun as the earth,
it
-ai
i'
of
'fat
ft;
79
Men
coirs
aefest
pair
iea. au
trailed bjr
il-J
trt IV. A S T R
leory ef it was before observed, that they would both descend
liversal with equal velocity towards the sun, so as to make no
hjon.1' C!mnZe in the angle. F-A-Sj ljut the length of the line
'it ■ FA must necessarily be shortened. Therefore the
moon, in moving from F toward the conjunction with
the sun, will be impelled more toward the earth by the
sun’s action than it would have been by the earth alone,
if neither the earth nor the moon had been acted upon
by the sun : so that, by this additional impulse, the
orbit is rendered more curve than it otherwise should
bo. The same effect will also be produced in the other
i'; quarter.
A third effect of the sun’s action, and which fol¬
lows from that just now explained, is, that though the
moon undisturbed by the sun might move in a circle,
having the earth for its centre, by the sun’s action, if
the earth were to be in the very middle or centre of
sttlie^16 010011,3 orhit, yet the moon would be nearer the
when earth at the new and full than in the quarters. This
may at first appear somewhat difficult to be understood,
that the moon should come nearest to the earth when
it is least attracted by it ^ yet, upon a little considera¬
tion, it will evidently appear to flow from that very
cause, because her orbit, in the conjunction and oppo¬
sition, is rendered less curve : for the less curve the or¬
bit is, the less will the moon have descended from the
place it would move into without the action of the
earth. Now, if the moon were to move from any
place without further disturbance from that action, since
it would proceed on the line touching the orbit in that
place, it would continually recede from the earth $ and
therefore, if the power of the earth upon the moon
be sufficient to retain it at the same distance, this di¬
minution of that power will cause the distance to in¬
crease, though in a less degree. But, on the other
hand, in the quarters, the moon being pressed in a less
degree towards the earth than by the earth’s single
action, will be made to approach it: so that, in passing
from the conjunction or opposition to the quarters, the
moon ascends from the earth j and in passing from the
quarters to the opposition or conjunction, it descends
again, becoming nearer in these last-mentioned places
than in the other.
All the inequalities we have mentioned are different
in degree as the sun is more or less distant from the
earth ; being greatest when the earth is in its perihe¬
lion, and smallest when it is in its aphelion: for in the
quarters, the nearer the moon is to the sun, the greater
is the addition to the earth’s action upon it by the
power of the sun j and, in the conjunction and opposi¬
tion, the difference between the sun’s action upon the
earth and upon the moon is likewise so much the great-
M»eij|ata er’ difference in the distance between the earth
uoJTthe and.tbe sun Produces a further effect upon the moon’s
*o<kor. Riotion j causing her orbit to dilate when less remote
y fr°m ^ie sun> and become greater than when at a
t<u tiler distance : F or it is proved by Sir Isaac New¬
ton, that the action of the sun by which it diminishes
the earth s power over the moon 111 the conjunction or
opposition, is about twice as great as the addition to
the earth s action by the sun in the quarters j so that,
upon the whole, the power of the earth on the moon
is diminished by the sun, and therefore is most dimi¬
nished when that action is strongest: but as the earth,
by its approach to the sun, has'its influence lessened,
Vol. III. Part I. f
"stpof
Ae data-
O N O M Y. i29
the moon, being less attracted, will gradually recede Theory of
from the earth $ and as the earth, in its recess from the Universal
sun, recovers by degrees its former power, the orbit of Gravita-
the moon must again contract. Two consequences foj- ■ ^ °n‘ .
low from hence, viz. that the moon will be more re¬
mote from the earth when the latter is nearest the sun,
and also will take up a longer time in performing its
revolution through the dilated orbit than through the
more contracted.
t These irregularities would be produced, if the moon,
without being acted upon unequally by the sun, should
describe a perfect circle about the earth, and in the
plane of its motion j but though neither of these cir¬
cumstances take place, yet the above-mentioned ine-
qualitms occur, only with some little variation with re¬
gard to the degree of them ; but some others are ob¬
served to take place, from the moon’s motion being
performed in the manner already described : For, as
the moon describes an ellipsis, having the earth in one
of its foci, this curve will be subjected to various
changes, neither preserving constantly the same figure
nor position ; and because the plane of this ellipsis is
not the same with that of the earth’s orbit, it thence
follows,, that the former will continually change ; so
that neither the inclination of the two planes towards
each other, nor the line in which they intersect, will
remain for any length of time unaltered. -gr
As the moon does not move in the same plane with Action of
the earth, the sun is but seldom in the plane of I,er,hesutl.
orbit, viz. only when the line made by the common ^nTof1*
intersection of the two planes, if produced, will pass the'moon’*
thiough the sun. Ihus, let S in fig. 139* denote orbit to
the sun, T the earth, ATB the plane of the earth’s chan£e*
orbit, CDEF the moon’s orbit j the part CDE being
raised above, and the part CFE depressed under the
former. Here the line CE, in which the two planes
intersect each other, being continued, passes through
the sun in S. When tin’s happens, the action of the
sun is directed in the plane of the moon’s orbit, and
cannot draw her out of this plane, as will evident¬
ly appear from an inspection of the figure ; but in
other cases the obliquity of the sun’s action to the
plane ol the orbit will cause this plane continually to
change.
Let us now suppose, in the first place, the line in
which the two planes intersect each other to be per¬
pendicular to the line which joins the earth and sun.
Let I, in fig. 140, 141, 142, 143. represent the
eiirth ; S the sun ; the plane of the scheme the plane
oi the earth’s orbit, in which both the sun and earth
are placed. Let AC be perpendicular to ST, which
joins the earth and sun 5 and let the line AC be that
in which the plane of the moon’s orbit intersects the
orbit of the earth. On the centre T describe in the
plane of the earth’s motion the circle ABCD; and
in the plane of the moon’s orbit describe the circle
AECF ; one half of which, AEC, will be elevated
above the plane of this scheme, and the other half,
AFC, as much depressed below it. Suppose then the
moon to set out from the point A in fig. 127. in the
direction of the plane AEC. Flere she will be conti¬
nually drawn out of this plane by the action of the
sun ; for this plane AEC, if extended, will not pass
through the sun, but above itj so that the sun, by
drawing the moon directly toward itself, will force it
ft continually
13°
Tl.eorj of continually more anil more from that plane towards the
Universal plane of the earth’s motion in which itself is, causing
Cravita- jt to (lescr[l)e the line AKGHI, which will be convex
, tlon to the plane AEC, ami concave to the plane of the
earth’s motion. But here this power of the sun, which
is said to draw the moon toward the plane ol the earth’s
motion, must be understood principally of as much on¬
ly of the sun’s action upon the moon as it exceeds the
action of the san^e upon the earth : For suppose the
last-mentioned figure to be viewed by the eye placed
in the plane of that scheme, and in the line CTA, on
‘the side A, it will appear as the straight line DTR in
fig. 126. and the plane AECF as another straight line
EE, and the curve line AKGHI under the form of
the line TKGHI. Now it is plain, that the earth
and moon being both attracted by the sun, if the sun’s
action upon both was equally strong, the earth T, and
with it the plane AECF, or the line FTE, would he
carried towards the sun with as great velocity as the
moon, and therefore the moon not drawn out of it by
the sun’s action, except only from the small obliquity
of direction of this action upon the moon to that of the
sun’s action upon the earth, which arises from the
moon being out of the plane of the earth’s motion, and
is not considerable : but the action of the sun upon the
moon being greater than upon the earth all the time the
moon is nearer to the sun than the earth is, it will
he drawn from the plane AEC, or the line TE, by
that excess, and made to describe the curve line AGI
or TGI. But it is the custom of astronomers, instead
of considering the moon as moving in such a curve line,
to refer its motion continually to the plane which
touches the true line wherein it moves at the point
where at any time the moon is. Thus, when the moon
is in the point A, its motion is considered as being in
the plane AEC, in whose direction it then attempts to
move •, and when in the point K, fig. 144. its motion is
referred to the plane which passes through the earth
and touches the line AKGHI in the point K. i bus
the moon, in passing from A to I, will continually
change the plane of her motion in the manner we shall
now more particularly explain.
Let the plane which touches the line AKI in the
point K, fig. 141, intersect the plane of the earth’s or¬
bit in the line LTM. Then, because the line AKI is
concave to the plane ABC, it falls wholly between
that plane and the plane which touches it in K, so
that the plane MKL will cut the plane AEC before it
meets the plane of the earth’s motion, suppose in the
line YT, and the point A will fall between K and L.
With a radius equal to TY or TL describe the semi¬
circle LYM. Now, to a spectator on the earth, the
moon when in A will appear to move in the circle
AECF; and when in K, will appear to he moving in
the semicircle LYM. The earth’s motion is perform¬
ed in the plane of this scheme ; and to a spectator on
the earth the sun will always appear to move in that
plane. We may therefore refer the apparent motion
of the sun to the circle ABCT) described in this plane
about the earth. But the points where this circle in
352 which the sun seems to move, intersecting the circle in
odes of, which the moon is seen at any time to move, are called
orbit”0011 * *‘ie no^es °f the moon’s orbit at that time. When
the moon is seen moving in the circle AECD, the
points A and C are the nodes of the orbit; when she
3
Part IV,
appears in the semicircle LYM, then L and M are Theoryoi
the nodes. It will now appear, from what has been Universal
said, that while the moon has moved from A to K,
one of the nodes has been carried from A to L, and L ^ ^
the other as much from C to M. But the motion
from A to L and from C to M is backward in regard
to the motion of the moon, which is the other way
from A to K, and from thence toward C. Again,
the angle which the plane wherein the moon at any
time appears makes with the plane of the earth’s mo¬
tion, is called the inclination of the moon’s orbit at ^
that time: we shall now therefore proceed to show, Inclinatiot
that this inclination of the orbit, when the moon is in of her ort
K, is less than when she was in A ; or, that the plane
LYM, which touches the line of the moon’s motion
in K, makes a less angle with a plane of the earth’s
motion, or with the circle ABCD, than the plane
AEC makes with the same. The semicircle LYM
intersects the semicircle AEC in Y, and the arch AY
is less than LY, and both together less than half a cir¬
cle. But it is demonstrated by spheric geometry, that
when a triangle is made, as here, by three arches ot
circles AL, AY, and YL, the angle under YAB
without the triangle is greater than the angle A LA
within, if the two arches AY, YL, taken together,
do not amount to a semicircle. If the two arches
make a complete semicircle, the two angles will be
equal ; but if the two arches taken together exceed a
semicircle, the inner angle YLA is greater than the
other. Here then the two arches AL and LY together
being less than a semicircle, the angle under ALY is
less than the angle under BAE. But from the doc¬
trine of the sphere it is also evident, that the angle un¬
der ALY is equal to that in which the plane of the
circle LYKM, that is, the plane which touches the
line AKGHI in K, is inclined to the plane of the
earth’s motion ABC; and the angle under BAE is
equal to that in which the plane AEC is inclined to
the same plane. Therefore the inclination of the for¬
mer plane is less than that ot the latter. Suppose,
now', the moon to be advanced to the point G in
fig. 142. and in this point to be distant from its node
a quarter part of the whole circle ; or, in other words,
to be in the mid-way between its two nodes. In this
case the nodes will have receded yet more, and the in¬
clination of the orbit be still more diminished ; for
suppose the line AKGHI to be touched in the point
G by a plane passing through the earth T, let the in¬
tersection of this plane with the plane of the earth’s
motion be the line WTO, and the line TP its inter¬
section with the plane LKM. In this plane let the
circle NGO he described with the semidiameter TP
or NT cutting the other circle LKM in P. Now,
the line AKGI is convex to the plane LKM which
touches it in K ; and therefore the plane NGO, which
touches it in G, will intersect the other touching plane
between G and K, that is, the point P will fall be¬
tween these two points, and the plane continued to
the plane of the earth’s motion will pass beyond L ;
so that the points N and O, or the places of the nodes
when the moon is in G, will be farther from A and C
than L and M ; that is, will have moved farther back¬
ward. Besides, the inclination of the plane NGO to
the plane of the earth’s motion ABC is less than the in¬
clination of the plane LKM to the same ; for here also
ASTRONOMY.
, J
IV.
"'liH-yof d16 tW0 arcbes LP and NP, taken together, are less
iTnier*al than a semicircle, each of them being less than a qua-
Gr/ita- drant, as appears, because GN, the distance of the
r ‘'a* moon in G from its node N, is here supposed to be a
1 quarter part of a circle. After the moon is passed
beyond G, the case is altered ; for then these arches
will be greater than quarters of a circle 5 by which
means the inclination will be again increased, though
the nodes still go on to move the same way. Suppose
the moon in H (fig. 143.), and that the plane which
touches the line AKGI in H intersects the plane of
» the earth’s motion in the line QTR, and the plane
NGO in the line TV, and besides, that the circle
QHR be described in that plane j then, for the same
reason as before, the point V will fall between H and
G, and the plane RVQ will pass beyond the last plane
OVN, causing the points Q and K to fall farther from
A and C than N and O. But the arches NV, VQ are
each greater than the quarter of a circle : consequent¬
ly the angle under BQV will be greater than that un¬
der BNV. Lastly, when the moon is by this attrac¬
tion of the sun drawn at length into the plane of the
earth’s orbit, the node will have receded yet more, and
the inclination he so much increased, as to become
somewhat more than at first: for the line AKGHI
being convex to all the planes which tpuch it, the part
HI will wholly fall between the plane QVR and the
plane ABC ; so that the point I will fall between B
and R; and, drawing ITW, the point W will be
farther removed from A than Q. But it is evident,
that the plane which passes through the earth T, and
touches the line AGI in the point I, will cut the plane
of the earth’s motion ABCD in the line ITW, and be
inclined to the same in the angle under HIB ; so that
the node which was first in A, after having passed into
L, N, and Q, comes at last in the point W, as the node
which was at first in C has passed from thence successive¬
ly through the points M, O, and R, to I. But the an¬
gle HIB, which is now the inclination of the orbit to
the plane of the ecliptic, is manifestly not less than the
angle under ECB or EAB, but rather something greater.
Thus the moon, while it passes from the plane of the
earth’s motion in the quarter, till it comes again into the
same plane, has the nodes of its orbit continually moved
backward, and the inclination of it at first diminished
till it comes to G in fig. 128. which is near to its con¬
junction with the sun, but afterwards is increased again
almost by the same degrees, till upon the moon’s arrival
again to the plane of the earth’s motion, the inclination
of the orbit is restored to something more than its first
magnitude, though the difference is not very great, be¬
cause the points I and C are not far distant from each
other.
In like manner, if the moon had departed from the
quarter at C, it should have described the curve line
CXW in fig. 140. between the planes AH and ADC,
which would be convex to the former planes and con¬
cave to the latter; so that here also the nodes would
continually recede, and the inclination of the orbit
gradually diminish more and more, till the moon arrived
near its opposition to the sun in X ; but from that
time the inclination should again increase till it become
a little greater than at first. This will easily appear by
considering, that as the action of the sun upon the
moon, by exceeding its action upon the earth, drew
■a . .
131
it out of the plane AEC towards the sun, while the Theory of
moon passed from A to I; so during its passage from Universal
C to W, the moon being all that time farther from the Gravcta-
sun than the earth, it will be attracted less ; and the , ti^)n' ,
earth, together with the plane AECF, will as it were
be drawn from the moon, in such a manner, that the
path the moon describes shall appear from the earth as
it did in the former case by the moon being drawn
away. _ . . -S4
Such are the changes which the nodes and inclina- Motion of
tion of the moon’s orbit undergo when the nodes are the nodes
in the quarters; but when the nodes by their motion,explained,
and the motion of the sun together, come to be situated
between the quarter and conjunction or opposition,
their motion and the change made in the inclination
of the orbit are somewhat different.—Let AGH, in
fig. 145. be a circle described in the plane of the
earth’s motion, having the earth in T for its centre, A
the point opposite to the sun, and G a fourth part of
the circle distant from A. Let the nodes of the
moon’s orbit be situated in the line BTD, and B the
node falling between A, the place where the moon
would be in the full, and G the place where she would
be in the quarter. Suppose BEDE to be the plane in
which the moon attempts to move when it proceeds
from the point B : then, because the moon in B is more
distant from the sun than the earth, it will be less at¬
tracted by the sun, and will not descend towards the
sun so fast as the earth, consequently it will quit the
plane BEDF, which is supposed to accompany the
earth, and describe the line BIK convex to it, till such
time as it comes to the point K, where it will be in
the quarter; but from thenceforth being more attracted
than the earth, the moon will change its course, and the
following part of the path it describes will be concave
towards the plane BED or BGD, and continue con¬
cave to the plane BGD till it crosses that plane in L
just as in the preceding case. Now, to show that the
nodes, while the moon is passing from B to K, will pro¬
ceed forward, or move the same way with the moon,
and at the same time the inclination of the orbit will in¬
crease when the moon is in the point I, let the line
MIN pass through the earth T, and touch the path of
the moon in I, cutting the plane of the earth’s motion
in the line MTN, and the line BED, in TO. Because
the line BIK is convex to the plane BED, which
touches it in B, the plane NIM must cross the plane
DEB before it meets the plane CGB ; and therefore
the point M will fall from G towards B ; and the node
of the moon’s orbit being translated from B towards M
is moved forward.
Again the angle under OMG, which the plane
MON makes with the plane BGC, is greater than the
angle OBG, which the plane BOD makes with the
same. This appears from what has been already de¬
monstrated, because the arches BO and OM are each
of them less than the quarter of a circle ; and there¬
fore, taken both together, are less than a semicircle.
But further, when the moon is come to the point K in
its quarter, the nodes will be advanced yet farther for¬
ward, and the inclination of the orbit also more aug¬
mented. Hitherto we have referred the moon’s mo¬
tion to that plane, which, passing through the earth,
touches the path of the moon in the point where the
moon is, as we have already said that the custom of
R 2 astronomers
ASTRONOMY.
I 32
A S T R
Theory of astronomers Is. But in the point K no such plane can
Gravita*1 ^ ^0,un(^ : .on tIle contrary, seeing the line of the
j.jon moon s motion on one side the point K is convex to
^18 plane BED, and on the other side concave to the
same, so that no plane can pass through the points T
and K, but will cut the line BKL in that point;
therefore instead of such a touching plane, we must
make use of PKQ, which is equivalent, and withVhich
the line BKL shall make a less angle than with any
other, plane ; for this does as it were touch the line
BIv in the point K_, since it cuts it in such a manner
that no other plane can he drawn so as to pass between
the line BK and the plane PKQ. But now it is evi¬
dent, that the point P, or the node, is removed from
M towards G, that is, has moved yet further forward;
and it is likewise as manifest, that the angle under
KPG, or the inclination of the moon’s orbit in the
point K, is greater than the angle under IMG, for the
reason already given.
After the moon has passed the quarter, her plane
being concave to the plane AGCH, the nodes will
recede as before till she arrives at the point L; which
shows, that considering the whole time of the moon’s
passing from B to L, at the end of that time the nodes
shall be found to have receded, or to be placed more
backward, when the moon is in L than when it was
in B ; for the moon takes a longer time in passing
from K to L than in passing from B to K ; and there¬
fore the nodes continue to recede a longer time than
they moved forwards; so that their recess must sur¬
mount, their advance. Lithe same manner, while the
moon is in its passage from K to L, the inclination of
the orbit shall diminish till the moon come to the point
in which it is one quarter part of a circle distant from
its node, suppose in the point R; and from that time
the inclination will again increase. Since, therefore,
the inclination of the orbit increases while the moon
is passing from B to K, and diminishes itself again only
while the moon is passing from K to R, then augments
again while the moon passes from B to L; it thence
comes to be much more increased than diminished, and
thus will be distinguishably greater when the moon
comes to L than when it sets out from B. In like
manner, when the moon is passing from L on the other
side the plane AGCH, the node will advance forward
as long as the moon is between the point L and the
next quarter; but afterwards it will recede till the
moon come to pass the plane AGCH again, in the
point V between B and A : and because the time be¬
tween the moon’s passing from L to the next quarter
is less than the time between that quarter and the
moon’s coming to the point V, the node will have re¬
ceded more than it has advanced ; so that the point
V will be nearer to A than L is to C. So also the in¬
clination of the orbit, when the moon is in V, will be
greater than when she was in L ; for this inclination
increases all the time the moon is betwixt L and the
next quarter, decreasing only when she is passing from
this quarter to the mid-way between the two nodes,
and from thence increases again duringr the whole pas¬
sage through the other half of the way to the next
node.
In this manner we see, that at every period of the
moon the nodes will have receded, and thereby have
approached towards a conjunction with the sun : but
z
O N O M Y.
Part ly
this will be much forwarded by the motion of the T})eo
earth, or the apparent motion of the sun himself. In Eniwlij
the last scheme the sun will appear to have moved from Granta,
& towards W. Let us suppose it had appeared to have ^on‘
moved from S to W while the moon’s node has re- T ^
ceded from B to V ; then drawing the line WTX, the
arch VX will represent the distance of the line drawn
between the nodes from the sun when the moon is in
A ; whereas the arch BA represented that distance
when the moon was in B. This visible motion of the
sun is much greater than that of the node ; for the
sun appears to revolve quite round in one year, while
the node is near nineteen in making its revolution.
e have also seen that when the moon was in the
quadrature, the inclination of her orbit decreased till
she came to the conjunction or opposition, according
to the node it set out from; but that afterwards it
again increased till it became at the next node rather
greater than at the former. When the node is once
removed from the quarter nearer to a conjunction with
the sun, the inclination of the moon’s orbit, when she
comes into the node, is more sensibly greater than it
was in the node preceding; the inclination of the or¬
bit by this means more and more increasing till the
nodes come into conjunction with the sun : at which
time it has been shown that the latter has no power to
change the plane ol her orbit. As soon, however, as
the nodes are got out of conjunction towards the other
quarters, they begin to recede as before; but the in¬
clination of the orbit in the appulse of the moon to
each succeeding node is Jess than at the preceding, till
the nodes come again into the quarters. This will
appear as follows : Let A, in fig. 146. represent one
of the moon’s nodes placed between the point of op¬
position B and the quarter C. Let the plane ADE
pass through the earth T, and touch the path of the
moon in A. Let the line AFGH be the path of the
moon in her passage from A to H, where she crosses
again the plane of the earth’s moon. This line will
be convex towards the plane ADE, till the mooit
comes to G, where she is in the quarter; and after
this, between G and H, the same line will be concave
towards this plane. All the time this line is convex
towards the plane ADE, the nodes will recede; and,
on the contrary, move forward when the line is con¬
cave towards that plane. But the moon is longer in
passing from A to G, and therefore the nodes go back¬
ward farther than they proceed; and therefore, on the
whole, when the moon has arrived at H, the nodes will
have receded, that is, the point H will fall between B
and E. The inclination of the orbit will decrease till the
moon is arrived at the point F, in the middle between
A and H. Ihrough the passage between F and G
the inclination will increase, but decrease again in the
remaining part of the passage from G to H, and con¬
sequently at H must be less than at A. Similar ef¬
fects, both with respect to the nodes and inclination of
the orbit, will take place in the following passage of
the moon on the other side of the plane ABEC from
H, till it comes over that plane again in I.
I bus the inclination of the orbit is greatest when
the line drawn between the moon’s nodes will pass
through the sun, and least when this line lies in the
quarters ; especially if the moon at the same time ba
in conjunction with the sun, or in the opposition. In
the
it
3* .
re«in-
iii>4
a, IV. A S T R
Vhfey of the of these cases the nodes have no motion ; in all
"VjiJri’sat others, the nodes will each month have receded : and
this retrograde motion will be greatest when the nodes
are in the quarters, for in that case they will have no
progressive motion during the whole month $ but in all
other cases they at some times go forward, viz. when¬
ever the moon is between either of the quarters and the
node which is less distant from that quarter than the
fourth part of a circle.
We have now only to explain those irregularities of
sin£ the lunar motion which arise fiom her motion in an
mo efi'Ps‘s* From what has been already said it appears,
un that the earth acts on the moon in the reciprocal du¬
plicate proportion of the distance *, therefore the moon,
if undisturbed by the sun, would move round the earth
in a true ellipsis, and a line drawn from the earth to
the sun would pass over equal spaces in equal times.
We have, however, already shown, that this equality is
disturbed by the sun, and likewise how the figure of
the orbit is changed each month j that the moon is
nearer the earth at the new and full, and more re¬
mote in the quarters than it would be without the sun.
We must, however, pass by those monthly changes, and
consider the effect which the sun will have in the diffe¬
rent situations of the axis of the orbit in respect of
that luminary. This action varies the force wherewith
the moon is drawn towards the earth. In the quarters
the force of the earth is directly increased by the sun,
but diminished at the new and full j and in the inter¬
mediate places the influence of the earth is sometimes
lessened, sometimes assisted, by the action of that lumi¬
nary. In these intermediate places, however, between
the quarters and the conjunction or opposition, the
sun’s action is so oblique to that of the earth on the
moon, as to produce that alternate acceleration and re-
tai’dation of her motion so often mentioned. But be¬
sides this effect, the power by which the moon attracts
the earth towards itself, will not be at full liberty to
act with the same force as if the sun acted not at all
on the moon $ and this effect of the sun’s action,
whereby it coj-roborates or weakens the action of the
eai'th, is here only to be considered ; and by means of
this influence it comes to pass, that the power by which
the moon is impelled towards the earth is not perfectly
in the reciprocal duplicate proportion of the distance,
and of consequence the moon will not describe a per¬
fect ellipsis. One particular in which the lunar orbit
will differ from a perfect elliptic figure, consists in the
places where the motion of the moon is perpendicular
to the line drawn from itself to the earth. In an ellip¬
sis, after the moon should have set out in the direction
perpendicular to this line, drawn from itself to the
earth, and at its greatest distance from the earth, its
motion would again become perpendicular to this line
drawn between itself and the earth, and the moon be
at its nearest distance from the earth, when it should
have performed half its period : after having performed
the other half period of its motion, it would again be¬
come perpendicular to the forementioned line, and the
moon return to the place when it set out, and have
recovered again its greatest distance. But the moon
in its real motion, after setting out as before, some¬
times makes more than half a revolution before its mo¬
tion comes again to be perpendicular to the line drawn
from itself to the earth, and the moon is at its nearest
tioa.
3S6
O N O M Y. 133
distance, and then performs moi’e than another half of Tlieory of
an entire revolution befoi’e its motion can a second time Universal
recover its perpendicular direction to the line drawn from Gravila¬
the moon to the earth, and the former arrive again at its
greatest distance from the earth. At other times the
moon will descend to her nearest distance before she has
made half a revolution, and recover again its greatest
distance before she has made an entire revolution. The
place where the moon is at its greatest distance is called
the moori's apogeon, and the place of her greatest di-^p0geon
stance herperigeon; and this change of place, where the and peri-
moon comes successively to its greatest distance from the gecm tbs
earth, is called the motion of the apogeon. The manner mocn*
in which this motion of the apogeon is caused by the
sun, comes now to be explained.
Sir Isaac Newton has shown, that if the moon were
attracted towards the earth by a composition of two
powers, one of which was reciprocally in the dupli¬
cate proportion of the distance from the earth, and the
other x’eciprocally in the triplicate proportion of the
same distance j then, though the line described by the
moon would not be in reality an ellipsis, yet the moon’s
motion might be pexffectly explained by an ellipsis whose „
axis should be made to move round the earth: this Motion in
motion being in consequence, as astronomers express antece-
themselves, that is, the same way as the moon itselfdence and
moves, if the moon be attx-acted by the sum of the twoconse*
powers ; but the axis must move in antecedence, or plaint,
the contrary way, if the moon be acted upon by the
difterence of these forces. We have already explained
what is meant by duplicate proportion, namely, that
if three magnitudes, as A, B, and C, are so related that
the second B bears the same proportion to the third C
as the first A bears to the second B ; then the propor¬
tion of the fix’st A to the third C is the duplicate of the ^sg
proportion of the first A to the second B. Now if a Triplicate
fourth magnitude as D be assumed, to which D shall proportion
bear the same proportion as A bear’s to B, and B to C ; explained,
then the proportion of A to D is the triplicate of the
proportion of A to B.
Let now T (fig. 147, 148.) denote the earth, and Motion of
suppose the moon in the point A its apogeon or die moon’s
greatest distance from the earth, moving in the ^^rec-
tion AF perpendicular to AB, and acted upon from aec}
the earth by two such forces as already mentioned. By
that power alone, which is reciprocally in tlxe duplicate
proportion of the distance, if the moon set out with a
proper degree of velocity, the ellipsis AMB may be
described : but if the moon be acted upon by the sum
of the forementioned powers, and her velocity in the
point A be augmented in a certain proportion.j or if
that velocity be diminished in a certain proportion See .Mw.
and the moon be acted upon by the difference of those bora’s Prm-
powers; in both these cases the line AE, which shall
be described by the moon, shall thus be determined.
Let the point M be that into which the. moon would
have arrived in any given point of time, had it moved
in the ellipsis AMB ; di’aw MT and likewise CTD
in such a manner that the angle ATM" shall bear the
same proportion to the angle under ATC, as the velo¬
city with which the ellipsis must have been desci’ibed y
bears to the difference between this velocity and that
with which the moon must set out from the point
A, in order to describe the path AE. Let the
angle ATC be taken towards the moon, as in fig. 133.
if/
390
Inequality
in the mo¬
tion of the
apogeon.
A S T R
if the nloon he attracted by the sum of the powers ; but
the contrary way (as in fig. 134.) if by their differ¬
ence. Then let the line AB be moved into the posi¬
tion CD, and the ellipsis AMB into the situation
CND, so that the point M be translated to L j then
the point L shall fall upon the path of the moon AE.
Now the angular motion of the line AT, whereby it is
removed into the situation CT, represents the motion
of the apogeon 5 by the means of which the motion of
the moon might be fully explained by the ellipsis AMB,
if the action of the sun upon it W'as directed to the
centre of the earth, and reciprocally in the triplicate
proportion of the moon’s distance from it; hut that
not being so, the motion of the apogeon will not pro¬
ceed in the regular manner now described. It is,
however, to be observed here, that in the first of the
two preceding cases, where the apogeon moves for¬
ward, the whole centripetal power increases faster,
with the decrease of distance, than if the entire power
were reciprocally in the duplicate proportion of the di¬
stance $ because one part only is already in that pro¬
portion, and the other part, which is added to this to
make up the whole power, increases faster with the
decrease of distance. On the other hand, when the
centripetal power is the difi’erence between these two
bodies, it increases less with the decrease of the di¬
stance, than if it were simply in the reciprocal duplicate
proportion of the distance. Therefore, if we choose
to explain the moon’s motion by an ellipsis, which may
be done without any sensible error, we may collect in
general, that when the power by which the moon is
attracted to the earth, by varying the distance, in¬
creases in a greater than the duplicate proportion of
the distance diminished, a motion in consequence must
be ascribed to the apogeon j but that when the attrac¬
tion increases in a smaller proportion than that just
mentioned, the apogeon must have given to it a mo¬
tion in antecedence. It is then observed by Sir Isaac
Newton, that the former of these cases obtains when
the moon is in the conjunction and opposition, and the
latter when she is' in the quarters; so that in the for¬
mer the apogeon moves according to the order of the
signs $ in the other, the contrary way. But, as has
been already mentioned, the disturbance given to the
action of the earth by the sun in the conjunction and
opposition, being near twice as great as in the quarters,
the apogeon will advance with a greater velocity than
recede, and in the compass of a whole revolution of the
moon wdll be carried in consequence.
Sir Isaac shows, in the next place, that when the
line AB coincides with the line that joins the sun and
earth, the progressive motion of the apogeon, when
the moon is in conjunction or opposition, exceeds the
retrograde, in the quadratures, more than in any other
situation of the line AB. On the contrary, when the
line AB makes right angles with that which joins the
earth and sun, the retrograde motion will be more con¬
siderable, nay, is found so great as to exceed the pro¬
gressive 5 so that in this case the apogeon, in the com¬
pass of an entire revolution of the moon, is carried in
antecedence. Yet from the considerations already men¬
tioned, the progressive motion exceeds the other 5 so
that, on the whole, the motion of the apogeon is in
consequence. The line AB also changes its situation
tvith that which joins the earth and sun by such slow
O N O M Y. Part It
degrees, that the inequalities of the motion of the apo- Theory
geon, arising from this last consideration, are much Uimers
greater than what arise from the other. Gwita.
This unsteady motion of the apogeon gives rise to tlon
another inequality in the motion of the moon herself, ^
so that it cannot at all times be explained by the same Occasioi
ellipsis. For whenever the apogeon moves in conse-au°tlier
quence, the motion of the luminary must be referred
to an orbit more eccentric than what the moon would
tncity
describe, if the whole power by which the moon was the mow
acted upon in its passing from the apogeon -changedorbit,
according to the reciprocal duplicate proportion of its
distance from the earth, and by that means the moon
did describe an immoveable ellipsis: and when the apo¬
geon moves in antecedence, the moon’s motion must
be referred to an orbit less eccentric. In the former
of the two figures last referred to, the true place of the
moon L falls without the orbit AMB, to which its
motion is referred : whence the orbit ALE truly de¬
scribed by the moon, is less incurvated in the point A
than is the orbit AMB : therefore this orbit is more
oblong, and differs fai'ther from a circle than the ellip¬
sis would, whose curvature in A were equal to that of
the line ALB : that is, the proportion of the distance
of the earth T from the centre of the ellipsis to its
axis, will be greater in AMB than in the other j but
that other is the ellipsis which the moon would describe,
if the power acting upon it in the point A were alter¬
ed in the recipi-ocal duplicate proportion of the di¬
stance ; and consequently the moon being drawn more
forcibly toward the earth, it will descend nearer to it.
On the other hand, when the apogeon recedes, the
power acting on the moon increases with the decrease
of distance, in less than the duplicate proportion of the
distance $ and therefore the moon is less impelled to¬
wards the earth, and will not descend so low. Now,
suppose, in the former of these figures, that the apo¬
geon A is in the situation where it is approaching to-
Wards the conjunction or opposition of the sun ; in this
case its progressive motion will be more and more ac¬
celerated. Here suppose the moon, after having de¬
scended from A through the orbit AE as far as F,
where it is come to its nearest distance from the earth,
ascends again up the line FG. As the motion of the
apogeon is here more and more accelerated, it is plain
that the cause of its motion must also be on the in¬
crease : that is, the power by which the moon is drawn
to the earth, will decrease with the increase of the
moon’s distance in her ascent from F, in a greater pro¬
portion than that wherewith it is increased with the
decrease of distance in the moon’s distance to it. Con¬
sequently the moon will ascend to a greater distance
than AT from whence it is descended $ therefore the
proportion of the greatest distance of the moon to the
least is increased. But farther, when the moon again
descends, the power will increase yet farther with the
decrease of distance than in the last ascent itinci*eased
with the augmentation of distance. The moon there¬
fore must descend nearer to the earth than it did before,
and the proportion of the greatest distance to the least
be yet more increased. Thus, as long as the apogeon
is advancing to the conjunction or opposition, the pro¬
portion of the greatest distance of the moon from the
earth to the least will continually increase ; and the el¬
liptical orbit to which the moon’s motion is referred
will
5ft
;t.
3*
ompa
ion!
unarie-
tialfts.
P* IV.
ASTRONOMY.
tii:.
The y of will become more and more eccentric. As soon, bow-
Uwn'sal ever, as the apogeon is past the conjunction or oppo-
Gmita- sjQ0n vvith the sun, its progressive motion abates, and
with it the proportion of the greatest distance of the
moon from the earth to the least will also diminish : and
when the apogeon becomes retrograde, the diminution
of this proportion will he still farther continued, until
the apogeon comes into the quarter; from thence this
proportion, and the eccentricity of the orbit, will in¬
crease again. Thus the orbit of the moon is most
eccentric when the apogeon is in conjunction with the
sun, or in opposition to it, and least of all when the
apogeon is in the quarters. These changes in the
nodes, the inclination of the orbit to the plane of the
earth’s motion, in the apogeon and in the eccentricity,
are varied like the other inequalities in the motion of
the moon,'by the different distance of the earth from
the sun being greatest when their cause is greatest :
that is, when the earth is nearest the sun. Sir Isaac
Newton has computed the very quantity of many of
the mr»rm*c i npn n a 1111 TTiaf a pr'/Rpru frinn nf t!n^
135
moon s inequalities. That acceleration of the
moon’s motion which is called the variation, when
greatest, removes the luminary out of the place in
which it would otherwise be found, somewhat more
than half a degree. If the moon, without disturbance
from the sun, would have described a circle concentri-
cal to the earth, his action will cause her approach
nearer in the conjunction and opposition than in the
quarters, nearly in the proportion of 69 to 70. It
has already been mentioned, that the nodes perform
their period in almost 19 years. This has been found
by observation ; and the computations of Sir Isaac
assigned to them the same period. The inclination
of the moon’s orbit, when least, is an angle about one-
eighteenth of that which constitutes a right angle ; and
the difference between the greatest and least inclina¬
tion, is about one-eighteenth of the least inclination,
according to our author’s computation : which is also
agreeable to the general observations of astronomers.
There is one empirical equation of the moon’s mo¬
tion which the comparison of ancient and modern eclip¬
ses obliges the astronomers to employ, without being
able to deduce it, like the rest, a priori, from the theory
of an universal force inversely proportional to the square
of the distance. It has therefore been considered as a
stumbling block in the Newtonian philosophy. This
is what is called the secular equation of the moon's mean
011 gi-he motion. The mean motion is deduced from a compari-
rin/i son ^'s*;an*; observations. The time between them,
anoe being divided by the number of intervening revolutions,
gives the average time of one revolution, or the mean
lunar period. When the ancient Chaldean observations
are compai’ed with those of Hipparchus, we obtain a
certain period ; when those of Hipparchus are compa¬
red with some in the 9th century, we obtain a period
somewhat shorter ; when the last are compared with
those of Tycho Brahe, we obtain one still shorter ; and
when Brahe’s are compared with those of our day, we
obtain the shortest period of all—and thus the moon’s
mean motion appears to accelerate continually ; and the
accelerations appear to be in the duplicate ratio of the
times. The acceleration for the century which ended
in 1700 is about 9 seconds of a degree; that is to say,
the whole motion of the moon during the 17th centu-
he »;u-
r eqn
ry must be increased 9 seconds, in order to obtain its Theory of
motion during the 18th ; and as much must be taken Universal
from it, or added to the computed longitude, to obtain Cravita-
its motion during the x6th : and the double of this must. ti^"‘ .
be taken from the motion during the 16th, to obtain
its motion during the 15th, &e. Or it will be sufficient
to calculate the moon’s mean longitude for any time
past or to come by the secular motion which obtains in
the present century, and then to add to this longitude
the product of 9 seconds, multiplied by the square of
the number of centuries which intervene. Thus having
found the mean longitude for the year 1200, add 9 se¬
conds, multiplied by 36, for six centuries. By this me¬
thod we shall make our calculation agree with the most
ancient and all intermediate observations. If we ne¬
glect this correction, we shall differ more than a degree
from the Chaldean observation of the moon’s place in
the heavens.
The mathematicians having succeeded so completely
in deducing all the observed inequalities of the plane¬
tary motions, from the single principle, that the deflect¬
ing forces diminished in the inverse duplicate ratio of
the distances, were fretted by this exception, the reality
of which they could not contest. Many opinions were
formed about its cause. Some have attempted to deduce
it from the action of the planets on the moon ; others
have deduced it from the oblate form of the earth, and
the translation of the ocean by the tides ; others have
supposed it owing to the resistance of the ether in the
celestial spaces; and others have imagined that the
action of the deflecting force requires time for its pro¬
pagation to a distance : But their deductions have been
proved unsatisfactory, and have by no means the preci¬
sion and evidence that have been attained in the other
questions of physical astronomy. At last M. de la Place,
of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, has happily
succeeded, and deduced the secular equation of the moon
from the Newtonian law of planetary deflection. It is
produced in the following manner.
Suppose the moon revolving round the earth, undi-Deduced
sturbed by any deflection toward the sun, and that the from the
time of her revolution is exactly ascertained. Now let Newtonian
the influence of the sun be added. This diminishes her^a°f
tendency to the earth in opposition and conjunction,flectj011i
and increases it in the quadratures : but the diminutions
exceed the augmentations both in quantity and dura¬
tion ; and the excess is equivalent to T-^th of her ten¬
dency to the earth. Therefore this diminished tendency
cannot retain the moon in the same orbit: she must re¬
tire farther from the earth, and describe an orbit which
is less incurvated by T^th part; and she must employ
a longer time in a revolution. The period therefore
which we observe, is not that which would have obtain¬
ed had the moon been influenced by the earth alone.
We should not have known that her natural period was
increased, had the disturbing influence of the sun re¬
mained unchanged ; but this varies in the inverse tri¬
plicate ratio of the earth’s distance from the sun, and is
therefore greater in our winter, when the earth is nearer
to the sun. This is the source of the annual equation,
by which the lunar period in January is made to exceed
that in July nearly 24 minutes. The angular velocity
of the moon is diminished in general and this nu¬
merical coefficient varies in the inverse-ratio of the cube
of..
136
ASTRONOMY.
Theory of of the earth’s distance from the sun. If vve expand this
Universal inverse cube of the earth’s distance into a series arran¬
ged according to the sines and cosines of the earth’s
mean motion, making the earth’s mean distance unity,
we shall find that the series contains a term equal to y
of the square of the eccentricity of the earth’s orbit.
Therefore the expression of the diminution of the moon’s
angular velocity contains a term equal to j^g-ofthis ve¬
locity multiplied by y of the squai'e of the earth’s ec¬
centricity ; or equal to the product of the square of the
eccentricity, multiplied by the moon’s angular velocity,
and divided by 119,33 (y of 179). Did this eccentri¬
city remain constant, this product would also be con¬
stant, and would still be confounded with the general*
diminution, making a constant part of it: but the ec¬
centricity of the earth’s orbit is known to diminish, and
its diminution is the result of the universality of the
Newtonian law of the planetary deflections. Although
this diminution is exceedingly small, its effect on the lu¬
nar motion becomes sensible by accumulation in the
course of ages. The eccentricity diminishing, the dimi¬
nution of the moon’s angular motion must also diminish,
that is, the angular motion must increase.
During the 18th century, the square of the earth’s
eccentricity has diminished 0,0000015325, the mean
distance from the sun being m. This has increased the
angular motion of the moon in that time 0,00000001285.
As this augmentation is gradual, we must multiply the
angular motion during the century by the half of this
quantity, in order to obtain its accumulated effect. This
will be found to be 9" very nearly, which exceeds that
ded uced from a most careful comparison of the motion
of the last two centuries, only by a fraction of a se¬
cond.
As long as the diminution of the square of the eccen¬
tricity of the earth’s orbit can be supposed proportion¬
al to the time, this effect will be as the squares of the
times. When this theory is compared with observa¬
tions, the coincidence is wonderful indeed. The effect
on the moon’s motion is periodical, as the change of the
solar eccentricity is, and its period includes millions of
years. Its effect on the moon’s longitude will amount
to several degrees before the secular acceleration change
to a retardation.
Those who are not familiar with the disquisitions of
modern analysis, may conceive this question in the fol¬
lowing manner.
Let the lepgth of a lunar period be computed for the
earth’s distance from the sun for every day of the year.
Add them into one sum, and divide this by their num¬
ber, the quotient will be the mean lunar period. This
will be found to be greater than the arithmetical me¬
dium between tire greatest and the least. Then suppose
the eccentricity of the earth’s orbit to be greater, and
make the same computation. The average period will
be found still greater, while the medium between the
greatest and least periods will hardly differ from the
former. Something very like this may be observed
without any calculation, in a case very similar. The
angular velocity of the sun is inversely as the square of
bis distance. Look into the solar tables, and the great¬
est diurnal motion will be found 3673", and the least
3433". The mean of these is 3553", but the medium
of the whole is 3548". Now make a similar observation
in tables of the motion of the planet Mars, whose ec»
Part 1\
centricity is much greater. We shall find that the me-
dium between the greatest and least exceeds the true UniveiSl
medium of all in a much greater proportion.
It has been supposed by some philosophers that the (
moon was originally a comet, which passing very near
the earth, had been made to revolve round her by the
force of attraction. But if we calculate ever so far
backwards, we still find the moon revolving round the
earth as the planets round the sun, which could not be
the case if this opinion were true. Hence it follows,
that neither the moon nor any of the satellites have ever
been comets.
Sect. V. 0/' Irregularities in the Satellites of Jupiter.
The subserviency of the eclipses of Jupiter’s satel¬
lites to geography and navigation had occasioned their
motions to be very carefully observed, ever since these
uses of them were first suggested by Galileo j and their
theory is as far advanced as that of the primary pla¬
nets. It has peculiar difficulties. Being very near to
Jupiter, the great deviation of his figure from perfect
sphericity makes the relation between their distances
from his centre and their gravitations toward it vastly
complicated. But this only excited the mathematici¬
ans so much the more to improve their analysis j and
they saw, in this little system of Jupiter and his attend¬
ants, an epitome of the solar system, where the great
rapidity of the motions must bring about in a short time
every variety of configuration or relative position, and
thus give us an example of those mutual disturbances
of the primary planets, which require thousands of
years for the discovery of their periods and limits. We
have derived some very remarkable and useful pieces
of information from this investigation ; and have been
led to the discovery of the eternal durability of the
solar system, a thing which Newton greatly doubt¬
ed of.
Mr Pound had observed long ago, that the irregu¬
larities of the three interior satellites were repeated in
a period of 437 days j and this observation is found to
be just to this day.
247 revolutions of the first occupy
123 second
6r third
26 fourth
Days.
437
437
437
435
H. M.
3
3
3
44
42
16
This naturally led mathematicians to examine their mo¬
tions, and see in what manner their relative positions
or configurations, as they are called, corresponded to
this period : and it is found, that the mean longitude
of the first satellite, minus thrice the mean longitude
of the second, plus twice the mean longitude of the
third, always made 180 degrees. This requires that
the mean motion of the first, added to twice that of
the third, shall be equal to thrice the mean motion of
the second. This correspondence of the mean motions
is of itself a singular thing, and the odds against its
probability seems infinitely great j and when we add
to this the particular positions of the satellites in any
one moment, which is necessary for the above constant
relation of their longitudes, the improbability of the
coincidence, as a thing quite fortuitous, becomes infi¬
nitely greater. JDoubts were first entertained of the
coincidence,
P4i IV. ASTRO
Tljc-y of coincidence, because It was not incleed accurate to a
Uwi'isal second. 'I'he result of the investigation is curious.
Cfcita- When we follow out the consequences of mutual gra-
, fr' vitation, we find, that although neither the primitive
motions of projection, nor the points of the orbit from
which the satellites were projected, were precisely such
as suited these observed relations of their revolutions
and their contemporaneous longitudes ; yet if they dif¬
fered from them only by very minute quantities, the
mutual gravitations of the satellites would in time bring
them into those positions, and those states of mean
motion, that would induce the observed relations 5 and
when they are once induced they will he continued for
ever. There will indeed be a small equation, depending
on the degree of unsuitableness of the first motions and
positions ; and this causes the whole system to oscillate,
as it were, a little, and hut a very little way on each
side of this exact and permanent state. The permanency
of these relations will not be destroyed by any secular
equations arising from external causes 5 such as the ac¬
tion of the fourth satellite, or of the sun, or of a resist¬
ing medium j because their mutual actions will distri¬
bute this equation as it did the original error.
For a full discussion of this curious but difficult
subject, we refer the reader to the dissertations of La
Grange and La Place, and to the tables lately pub¬
lished by Delambre. These mathematicians have
shown, that if the mass of Jupiter be represented by
unity, that of his satellites will be represented by the
following numbers.
First satellite O.OOOO172OH
Second satellite 0.0000237103
Third satellite 0.0000872128
Fourth satellite 0.0000544681
N
it uric
Sect. VI. Of Saturn's Ring.
45
;eo]r*y
Dr E! r
iel r»-
to|i.
The most important addition (in a philosophical view)
which has been made to astronomical science since the
discovery of the aberration of light and the nutation of
the earth’s axis, is that of the rotation of Saturn’s ring.
Ihe ring itself is an object quite peculiar*, and when
it was discovered that all the bodies which had any im¬
mediate connexion with a planet gravitated toward that
planet, it became an interesting question to ascertain
what was the nature of this ring ? What supports this
immense arch of heavy matter without its resting on the
planet ? What maintains it in perpetual concentricity
with the body of Saturn, and keeps its surface in one
invariable position ?
The theory of universal gravitation tells us what
things are possible in the solar system j and our conjec¬
tures about the nature of this ring must always be re¬
gulated by the circumstance of its gravitation to the
planet. Philosophers had at first supposed it to be a
luminous atmosphere, thrown out into that form by the
great centrifugal force arising from a rotation : but its
well-defined edge, and, in particular, its being two very
narrow rings, extremely near each other, yet perfectly
separate, rendered this opinion of its constitution more
improbable.
Dr Herschel’s discovery of brighter spots on its sur¬
face, and that those spots were permanent during the
whole time of his observation, seem to make it "more
probable that the parts of the ring have a solid con-
Vol. III. Part I. j-
O M Y. I ^
nexion. Mr Herschel has discovered, by the help of Theory of
these spots, that the ring turns round its axis, and that Universal
this axis is also the axis of Saturn’s rotation. The time Gravita-
of rotation is loh. 32^:,• But the other circumstances, ^on*
are not narrated with the precision sufficient for an ac- ^
curate comparison with the theory of gravity. He in¬
forms us, that the radii of the four edges of the ring are
59°» 75L 774> %30> °f a certain scale, and that the
angle subtended by the ring at the mean distance from
the earth is 46^". Therefore its elongation is 23y".
I lie elongation of the second Cassinian satellite is 56",
and its revolution is 2d. 17b. 44'. This should give,
by the third law of Lepler, 17I1. ic/ for the revolution
of the outer edge of the ring, or rather of an atom of
that edge, in order that it may maintain itself in equili-
brio. Ihe same calculation applied to the outer edge
of the inner ring gives about 13b. 36'; and we obtain
1 ih. 16' for the inner edge of this ring. Such varie¬
ties are inconsistent with the permanent appearance of a
spot. We may suppose the ring to be a luminous fluid
or vapour, each particle of which maintains its situation
by the law of planetary revolution. In such a state, it
would consist of concentric strata, revolving more slowly
as they were more remote from the planet,°1 ike the con-
centi ic strata of a vortex, and therefore having a relative
motion incompatible with the permanency of any spot.
Besides, the rotation observed by Flerschel is too rapid
even for the innermost part of the ring. We think there¬
fore that it consists of cohering matter, and of consider¬
able tenacity, at least equal to that of a very clammy
fluid, such as melted glass.
We can tell the figure which a fluid ring must have,
so that it may maintain its form by the mutual gravita¬
tion of its particles to each other, and their gravitation
to the planet. Suppose it cut by a meridian. It may
he in equilibrio if the section is an ellipse, of which the
longer axis is directed to the centre of the planet, and
very small in comparison with its distance from the
centre of the planet, and having the revolution of its
middle round Saturn, such as agree with the Keplerean
law. These circumstances are not very consistent with
the dimensions of Saturn’s inner ring. The distance
between the middle of its breadth and the centre of Sa¬
turn is 670, and its breadth is 161', nearly one-fourth
of the distance from the centre of Saturn. De la Place
says, that the revolution of the inner ring observed by
Herschel is very nearly that required by Kepler’s law':
but we cannot see the grounds of this assertion. The
above comparison with the second Cassinian satellite
shows the contrary. The elongation of that satellite
is taken from Bradley’s observations, as is also its pe¬
riodic time. A ring of detached particles revolving
in xoh. 324 must be of much smaller diameter than
even the inner edge of Saturn’s ring. Indeed the quau-
tity of matter in it might be such as to increase the gra¬
vitation considerably j but this would be seen by its
disturbing the seventh and sixth satellites, which are
exceedingly near it. We cannot help thinking, there- Its proba-
fore, that it consists of matter which has very consider- ble consis.
able tenacity. An equatorial zone of matter, tenacioustency*
like melted glass, and whirled briskly round, might be
thrown off, and, retaining its great velocity, would
stretch out while whirling, enlarging in diameter and
diminishing in thickness or breadth, or both, till the
centrifugal force was balanced by the united force of
B gravity
rsB
ASTRONOMY.
Part IV,
Theory of gravity and tenacity. We find the equilibrium will
Universal Hot be sensibly disturbed by considerable deviations,
such as equal breadth, or even want of flatness. Such
i , ^ ’ , inequalities appear on the ring at that time of its dis-
parition, when its edge is turned to the sun or to us.
The appearances of its different sides are then consider¬
ably different.
Such a ring or rings must have an oscillatory motion
round the centre of Saturn, in consequence of their
mutual action, and the action of the sun, and their
own irregularities : but there will be a certain po¬
sition which they have a tendency to maintain, and
to which they will be brought back, after deviating
from it, by the ellipricity of Saturn, which is very
great. The sun will occasion a nutation of Saturn’s
axis and a precession of his equinoxes, and this will
drag along with it both the rings and the neighbouring
satellites.
The atmosphere which surrounds a whirling planet
cannot have all its parts circulating according to the
third law of Kepler. The mutual attrition of the pla¬
net, and of the different strata, arising from their diffe¬
rent velocities, must accelerate the slowly moving strata,
and retard the rapid, till all acquire a velocity propor¬
tional to their distance from the axis of rotation j and
this will be such that the momentum of rotation of the
planet and its atmosphere remains always the same. It
will swell out at the equator, and sink at the poles, till
the centrifugal force at the equator balances the height
of a superficial particle. The greatest ratio which the
equatorial diameter can acquire to the polar axis is that
of four to three, unless a cohesive force keeps the par¬
ticles united, so that it constitutes a liquid, and not an
elastic fluid like air j and an elastic fluid cannot form an
atmosphere bounded in its dimensions, unless there be a
certain rarity which takes away all elasticity. If the
equator swells beyond the dimension which makes the
gravitation balance the centrifugal force, it must imme¬
diately dissipate.
If we suppose that the atmosphere has extended to
this limit, and then condenses by cold, or any chemical
or other cause different from gravity, its rotation ne¬
cessarily augments, preferring its former momentum,
398 and the limit will approach the axis ; because a greater
and origin, velocity produces a greater centrifugal force, and re¬
quires a greater gravitation to balance it. Such an at¬
mosphere may therefore desert, in succession, zones of
its own matter in the plane of its equator, and leave
them revolving in the form of rings. It is not unlikely
that the rings of Saturn may have been furnished in this
very way 5 and the zones, having acquired a common
velocity in their different strata, will preserve it ; and
they are susceptible of irregularities arising from local
causes at the time of their separation, which may afford
permanent spots.
Sect. VII. Of the Atmospheres of the Planets.
By atmosphere is meant a rare, transparent, compres¬
sible, and elastic fluid surrounding a body. It is sup¬
posed that all the heavenly bodies possess atmospheres.
The atmosphere of the earth is familiar to all its inha¬
bitants. Observation points out the atmospheres of the
sun and of Jupiter ; but that of the other planets is
scarcely perceptible.
The atmosphere becomes rarer in proportion to its
3.
distance from the body to which it belongs, in conse- Theory
quence of its elasticity, which causes it to dilate the Univeria!
more the less it is compressed. If its most remote parts ^wha.
were still possessed of elasticity, they would separate , tl011'
indefinitely, and the whole would be scattered through
space. To prevent this effect, it is necessary that the
elasticity should diminish at a greater rate than the
compressing force, and that when it reaches a certain
degree of rarity its elasticity should vanish altogether.
All the atmospheric strata must gradually acquire
the same rotatory motion with the bodies to which they
belong in consequence of the continual friction to
which their different parts must be subjected, which
will gradually accelerate or retard the different parts
till a common motion is produced. In all these
changes, and indeed in all those which the atmosphere
undergoes, the sum of the products of the particles of
the body and of its atmosphere multiplied by the areas
described round their common centres of gravity by
their radii vectors projected in the plane of the equa¬
tor continue always the same, the times being the same.
If we suppose then, by any cause whatever, the height
of the atmosphere is diminished, and a portion of it
condenses on the surface of the planet ; the conse¬
quence will be, that the rotatory motion of the planet
and of its atmosphere will be accelerated. For the
radii vectors of the areas described by the particles of
the primitive atmosphere becoming shorter, the sum of
the products of all these particles by the corresponding
areas cannot remain the same unless the rotatory mo¬
tion augment.
At the upper surface of the atmosphere the fluid is
retained only by its weight. Its figure is such that the
direction resulting from the combination of the centri¬
fugal forces and the attracting forces is perpendicular
to it. It is flattened at the poles, and more convex at
the equator. But this flattening has its limits. When
a maximum the axis of the poles is to that at the equa¬
tor as 2 to 3.
At the equator the atmosphere can only extend to
the place where the centrifugal force and gravitation
exactly balance each other j for if it pass that limit, it
will be dissipated altogether. Hence it follows that the
solar atmosphere does not extend as far as Mercury; con¬
sequently it is not the cause of the zodiacal light which
appears to extend beyond even the earth’s orbit.
The place where the centrifugal force and gravita¬
tion balance each other is so much the nearer a body
the more rapid its rotatory motion is. If we suppose
the atmosphere to extend to that limit, and then to con¬
dense by cooling, &c. at the surface of the planet, the
rotatory motion will increase in rapidity in proportion
to this condensation, and the limit of the height of the
atmosphere will constantly approach the planet. The
atmosphere would of course abandon successively zones
of fluid in the plane of the equator, which would con¬
tinue to circulate round the body. We have shown in
the last section that Saturn’s ring may owe its origin to
this cause.
We may add also, that the action of another bo- Probate
dy may considerably change the constitution of thisreason*
atmosphere. Thus, supposing that the moon had .^mosple
originally an atmosphere, the limit will be that di-about tit
stance from the moon where the centrifugal force, ari- luoon.
sing from the moon’s rotation, added to the gravita¬
tion
Hr 9.
Pit IV. ASTRONOMY;
Thry of tion to the earth, balances the gravitation to the moon.
Uoi rsal If the moon be ^th of the earth, this limit will be
Gwita- about l-tli of the moon’s distance from the earth. If at
; . this distance the elasticity of the atmosphere is not anni¬
hilated by its rarefaction, it will be all taken off’ by the
earth, and accumulate round it. This may be the rea¬
son why we see no atmosphere about the moon.
>39
Theory of
Universal
Gravita¬
tion.
Sect. VIT. Of the Tides.
V
auttof
be | es
•£• HP
The cause of the tides was discovered by Kepler,
who, in his Introduction to the Phi/sicsof the Heavensy
liscjrcrcd thus explains it: “ The orb of the attracting power
>y Sfrler. vv|,icj5 ;s jn t|ie moonj is extended as far as the earth ;
and draws the waters under the torrid zone, acting
upon places where it is vertical, insensibly on confined
seas and bays, but sensibly on the ocean, whose beds are
large, and where the waters have the liberty of recipro¬
cation, that is, of rising and falling.” And in the 70th
page of his Lunar Astronomy—“ But the cause of the
tides of the sea appears to be the bodies of the sun and
moon drawing the waters of the sea.” This hint being
given, the immortal Sir Isaac Newton improved it, and
wrote so amply on the subject, as to make the theory of
the tides in a manner quite his own, by discovering the
cause of their rising on the side of the earth opposite to
the moon. For Kepler believed that the presence of
the moon occasioned an impulse which caused another
in her absence.
It has been already observed, that the power ofgra-
vity diminishes as the square of the distance increases ;
and therefore the waters at Z on the side of the earth
ABCDEFGH next the moon M, are more attracted
than the central parts of the earth O by the moon, and
the central parts are more attracted by her than the wa¬
ters on the opposite side of the earth at n : and therefore
the distance between the earth’s centre and the waters
on its surface under and opposite to the moon will be
increased. For, let there be three bodies at H, O, and
D : if they are all equally attracted by the body M,
they will all move equally fast towards it, their mutual
distances from each other continuing the same. If the
attraction of M is unequal, then that body which is
most strongly attracted will move fastest, and this will
increase its distance from the other body. Therefore,
by the law of gravitation, M will attract H more
strongly than it does O, by which the distance between
H and O will be increased ; and a spectator on O will
perceive II rising higher toward Z. In like manner,
O being more strongly attracted than D, it will move
farther towards M than D does : consequently, the di¬
stance between O and D will be increased $ and a spec¬
tator on O, not perceiving his Own motion, will see D
receding farther from him towards n ; all effects and
appearances being the same, whether D recedes from
O, or O from D.
Suppose now there is a number of bodies, as A, B,
C, D, E, F, G, II, placed round O, so as to form a flex¬
ible or fluid ring: then, as the whole is attracted to¬
wards M, the parts at H and D will have their di¬
stance from O increased ; whilst the parts at B and F
being nearly at the same distance from M as O is, these
parts will not recede from one another ; but rather, by
the oblique attraction of M, they will approach nearer
to O. Hence the fluid ring will form itself into an
ellipse ZIBL n KFNZ, whose longer axis n OZ pro¬
duced will pass through M, and its shorter axis EOF
will terminate in B and F. Let the ring be filled with
fluid particles, so as to form a sphere round O ; then,
as the whole moves towards M, the fluid sphere being
lengthened at Z and n, will assume an oblong or oval
form. If M is the moon, O the earth’s centre, ABC
DEFGH the sea covering the earth’s surface, it is evi¬
dent, by the above reasoning, that whilst the earth by
its gravity falls towards the moon, the water directly
below her at B will swell and rise gradually towards
her $ also the water at D will recede from the centre
[strictly speaking, the centre recedes from D], and
rise on the opposite side of the earth; whilst the water
at B and F is depressed, and falls below the former le¬
vel. Hence, as the earth turns round its axis from the
moon to the moon again in 24^ hours, there will be two
tides of flood and two of ebb in that time, as we find by
experience. cf
As this explanation of the ebbing and flowing of the why the
sea is deduced from the earth’s constantly falling to tides are
wards the moon by the power of gravity, some mav at fud
find a difficulty in conceiving how this is possible, when"10011,
the moon is full, or in opposition to the sun ; since the
earth revolves about the sun, and must continually fall
towards it, and therefore cannot fall contrary ways at
the same time: or if the earth is constantly falling to¬
wards the moon, they must come together at last. To
remove this difficulty, let it be considered, that it is not
the centre of the earth that describes the annual orbit
round the sun, but the (e) common centre of gravity
of the earth and moon together; and that whilst the
earth is moving round the sun, it also describes a circle
round that centre of gravity ; going as many times
round it in one revolution about the sun as there are
lunations or courses of the moon round the earth in a
year: and therefore the earth is constantly falling to¬
wards the moon from a tangent to the circle it describes
round the said common centre of gravity. Let M be Fi
the moon, TW part of the moon’s orbit, and C the
centre of gravity of the earth and moon ; whilst the
moon goes round her orbit, the centre of the earth de¬
scribes the circle dg e round C, to which circle gak
is a tangent; and therefore when the moon has gone
from M to a little past W, the earth has moved from
g to e; and in that time has fallen towards the moon,
from the tangent at a to e: and so on, round the whole
circle.
The sun’s influence in raising the tides is but small
S 2 in
153.
(e) I his centre is as much nearer the earth’s centre than the moon’s as the earth is heavier, or contains a great-
ei quantity of matter than the moon, namely, about 40 times; If both bodies were suspended on it, they would
lang in equilibria. So that dividing 240,000 miles, the moon’s distance from the earth’s centre, by 40, the ex¬
cess ot the earth’s weight above the moon’s, the quotient will be 6000 miles, which is the distance of the commoUt
centre ol gravity ol the earth and moon from the earth’s centre.
140
ASTRONOMY.
Part
Theory of in comparison of the moon’s ; for though the earth’s
T.’niveml diameter bears a considerable proportion to its distance
tionta" ^rom ro0011* it is next to nothing when compared
i . to its distance from the sun. And therefore the differ¬
ence of the sun’s attraction on the sides of the earth
402
Influence of under and opposite to him, is much less than the differ-
Uie sun in ence 0f t|je moon’8 attraction on the sides of the earth
raising
tides.
403
Why they
are not
highest
when the
chan.
under and opposite to her ; and therefore the moon
must raise the tides much higher than they can be
raised by the sun.
On this theory, the tides ought to be highest direct¬
ly under and opposite to the moon •, that is, when the
moon is due north and south. But we find, that in
moon is in open seas, where the water flows freely, the moon M
the men- is generally past the north and south meridian, as aty>,
when it is high water at Z and at n. The reason is
obvious: for though the moon’s attraction was to cease
altogether when she was past the meridian, yet the mo¬
tion ol ascent communicated to the water before that
time would make it continue to rise for some time af¬
ter j much more must it do so when the attraction is
only diminished ; as a little impulse given to a moving
ball will cause it still to move farther than otherwise it
could have done j and as experience shows that the day
is hotter about three in the afternoon, than when the
sun is on the meridian, because of the increase made to
the heat already imparted.
1 he tides answer not always to the same distance of
the moon from the meridian at the same places $ but
are variously affected by the action of the sun, which
brings them on sooner when the moon is in her first
and third quarters, and keeps them back later when she
is in her second and fourth : because, in the former
case, the tide raised by the sun alone would be earlier
than.the tide raised by the moon : and, in the latter
ease later.
The moon goes round the earth in an elliptic ox-bit;
and therefore, in evex-y lunar month, she approaches
nearer to the earth than her mean distance, and recedes
farther from it. When she is nearest, she attracts
strongest, and so raises the tides most: the conti-ary
happens when she is farthest, because of her weaker at¬
traction. When both luminaries ax-e in the equator,
and the moon in perigee, or at her least distance from
the earth, she raises the tides highest of all, especially
at her conjunction and opposition 5 both because the
equatorial parts have the greatest centrifugal force from
their describing the largest circle, and from the concur¬
ring actions of the sun and moon. At the change, the
attractive forces of the sun and moon being united,
they diminish the gravity of the waters under the moon,
and their gravity on the opposite side is diminished by
means of a greater centrifugal force. At the full,
whilst the moon raises the tide under and opposite to
her, the sun, acting in the same line, raises the tide un¬
der and opposite to him ; whence their conjoint effect is
the same as at the change ; and, in both cases, occasion
what we call the Spring Tides. But at the quarters the
sun’s action on the waters at O and H diminishes the
effect of the moon’s action on the waters at Z and N j
so that they rise a little under and opposite to the sun
at O and H, and fall as much under and opposite to
the moon at Z and N j making what we call the Neap
Tides, because the sun and moon then act cross-wise to
each other. But these tides happen not till some lime
2
after $ because in this, as in other cases, the actions do
not produce the greatest effect when they are at the
strongest, but some time afterward.
The sun being nearer the earth in winter than in
summer, is of course nearer to it in February and Oc¬
tober than in March and September; and therefore
the greatest tides happen not till some time after the
autumnal equinox, and return a little before the ver¬
nal.
Theory
Universal
Gravita
tion
The sea, being thus put in motion, would continue
to ebb and flow several times, even though the sun
and moon were annihilated, or their influence should
cease 5 as, if a bason of water were agitated, the wa¬
ter would continue to move for some time after the
bason was left to stand still j or, like a pendulum,
which, having been put in motion by the hand, con¬
tinues to make several vibrations without any new im¬
pulse.
When the moon is in the equator, the tides are
equally high in both pax-ts of the lunar day, or time of
the moon’s x-evolving from the meridian to the meridian
again, which is 24 hours 50 minutes. But as the
moon declines from the equator towards either pole,
the tides are alternately higher and lower at places hav¬
ing north or south latitude. For one of the highest
elevations, which is that under the moon, follows her
towards the pole to which she is neaiest, and the other
declines towards the opposite pole ; each elevation de¬
scribing parallels as far distant from the equator, on
opposite sides, as the moon declines from it to either
side j and consequently the parallels described by these
elevations of the water are twice as many degrees from
one another as the moon is from the equator; increa¬
sing their distance as the moon increases her declina¬
tion, till it be at the greatest, when the said parallels
are, at a mean state, 47 degrees from one another : and
on that day, the tides are most unequal in their heights.
As the moon returns towards the equator, the parallels
described by the opposite elevations approach towards
each other, until the moon comes to the equator, and
then they coincide. As the moon declines towards
the opposite pole, at equal distances, each elevation de¬
scribes the same parallel in the other part of the lunar
day, which its opposite elevation described before.
Whilst the moon has north declination, the greatest
tides in the northern hemisphei'e ai’e when she is above
the horizon ; and the reverse whilst her declination is
south. Let NESQ be the earth, NSC its axis, EQ fjg, I;-i
the equator, T 22 the tropic of Cancel-, t vy the tro-152,153'
pic of Capricorn, a b the arctic circle, cd the antarctic,
N the north pole, S the south pole, M the moon, F
and G the two eminences of water, whose lowest parts
are at a and d, at N and S, and at b and c, always 90
degrees from the highest. Now, when the moon is in
he r greatest north declination at M, the highest eleva¬
tion G under her is on the tropic of Cancer T 22,
and the opposite elevation F on the tropic of Capri¬
corn ^ Vy j and these two elevations describe the tropics
by the earth’s diurnal rotation. All places in the
northern hemisphere ENQ have the highest tides when
they come into the position £ 25 Q, under the moon ;
and the lowes't tides when the earth’s diurnal rotation
carries them into the position a TE, on the side oppo¬
site the moon 3 the reverse happens at the same time
in the southern hemisphere ESQ, as is evident to sight.
The
i-it iv.
ASTRONOMY.
Th ry of The axis of the tides aCd had now its poles a and d
Uhic-rsal (being always 90 degrees from the highest elevations)
.i- ita- jn j|ie arctJc antj antarctic circles j and therefore it is
t ’ ' . plain, that at these circles there is but one tide of flood,
and one of ebb, in the lunar day. For, when the point
a revolves half round to & in T2 lunar hours, it has a
tide of flood ; but when it comes to the same point a
again in 12 hours more, it has the lowest ebb. In seven
days afterward, the moon M comes to the equinoctial
circle, and is over the equator EQ, when both elevations
describe the equator j and in both hemispheres, at equal
distances from the equator, the tides are equally high in
both parts of the lunar day. The whole phenomena
being reversed, when the moon has south declination, to
what they were when her declination was north, require
no farther description.
In the three last-mentioned figures, the earth is or-
thographically projected on the plane of the meridian j
but in order to describe a particular phenomenon, we
now project it on the plane of the ecliptic. Let
HZON be the earth and sea, FED the equator, T
the tropic of Cancer, C the arctic circle, P the north
pole, and the curves, 1, 2, 3, &c. 24 meridians or
hour circles, intersecting each other in the poles :
AGM is the moon’s orbit, S the sun, M the moon, Z
the water elevated under the moon, and N the opposite
equal elevation. As the lowest parts of the water are
always 90 degrees from the highest, when the moon is
in either of the tropics (as at M), the elevation Z is on
the tropic of Capricorn, and the opposite elevation N on
the tropic of Cancer; the low-water circle HCO
touches the polar circles at C; and the high-water cir¬
cle ETP 6 goes over the poles at P, and divides every
parallel of latitude into two equal segments. In this
case, the tides upon every parallel are alternately higher
and lower ; but they return in equal times : the point
T, for example, on the tropic of Cancer, (where the
depth of the tide is represented by the breadth of the
dark shade) has the shallower tide of flood at T than
when it revolves half round from thence to 6, according
to the order of the numeral figures ; but it revolves as
soon from 6 to T as it did from T to 6. When the
moon is in the equinoctial, the elevations Z and N are
transferred to the equator at O and H, and the high
and low-water circles are got into each other’s former
places j in which case the tides return in unequal times,
but are equally high in both parts of the lunar dayj for
a place at 1 (under D) revolving as formerly, goes
sooner from I to x 1 (under F) than from II to 1, be¬
cause the parallel it describes is cut into unequal seg¬
ments by the high-water circle HCO : but the points
1 and 11 being equidistant from the pole of the tides
at C, which is directly under the pole of the moon’s or¬
bit MG A, the elevations are equally high in both parts
of the day.
And thus it appears, that as the tides are governed
by the moon, they must turn on the axis of the moon’s
orbit, which is inclined 234 degrees to the earth’s axis
it. II at a mean state: and therefore the poles of the tides
must be so many degrees from the poles of the earth,
or in opposite points of the polar circles, going round
these circles in every lunar day. It is true, that ac¬
cording to fig. 153’ when the moon is vertical to the
equator ECQ, the poles of the tides seem to fall in
with the poles of the world N and S: but when we
4 •
’I'ifttuirn
11 thluds
niJ
loop 1 or
consider that FGH is under the moon’s orbit, it will
appear, that when the moon is over H, in the tropic of
Capricorn, the north pole of the tides (which can be no
more than 90 degrees from under the moon) must be at
C in the arctic circle, not at P the north pole of the
earth j and as the moon ascends from H to G in her or¬
bit, the north pole of the tides must shift from c to a in
the arctic circle, and the south poles as much in the
antarctic.
It is not to be doubted, but that the earth’s quick
rotation brings the poles of the tides nearer to the poles
of the world than they would be if the earth were at
rest, and the moon revolved about it only once a
month ; tor otherwise the tides would be more unequal
in their height and times of their returns, than we find
they are. But how near the earth’s rotation may
bring the poles of its axis and those of the tides to¬
gether, or how far the preceding tides may affect those
which follow, so as to make them keep up nearly to
the same heights and times of ebbing and flowing, is a
problem more fit to he solved by observation than by
theory.
Those who have opportunity to make observations,
and choose to satisfy themselves whether the tides are
really affected in the above manner by the different po¬
sitions of the moon, especially as to the unequal times
of their return, may take this general rule for know¬
ing when they ought to be so affected. When the
earth’s axis inclines to the moon, the northern tides, if
not retarded in their passage through shoals and chan¬
nels, nor affected by the winds, ought to be greatest
when the moon is above the horizon, least when she is
below it, and quite the reverse when the earth’s axis
declines from her; but in both cases, at equal inter¬
vals of time. When the earth’s axis inclines sidewise
to the moon, both tides are equally high, but they
happen at unequal intervals of time. In every lunation
the earth’s axis inclines once to the moon, once from
her, and twice sidewise to her, as it does to the sun
every year $ because the moon goes round the ecliptic
every month, and the sun but once in a year. In sum¬
mer, the earth’s axis inclines towards the moon when
new; and therefore the day-tides in the north ought to
be highest, and night-tides lowest, about the change :
at the full, the reverse. At the quarters, they ought
to be equally high, but unequal in their returns : be¬
cause the earth’s axis then inclines sidewise to the
moon. In winter, the phenomena are the same at full
moon as in summer at new. In autumn the earth’s
axis inclines sidewise to the moon when new and full j.
therefore the tides ought to be equally high and uneven
in their returns at these times. At the first quarter, the
tides of flood should be least when the moon is above the
horizon, greatest when she is below it •, and the reverse
at her third quarter. In spring, the phenomena of the
first quarter answer to those of the third quarter in au¬
tumn j and v/ce versa. The nearer any tide is to either
of the seasons, the more the tides partake of the pheno¬
mena of these seasons j and in the middle between any
two of them the tides are at a mean state between those
of botli.
In open seas, the tides rise but to very small heights
in proportion to what they do in wide-mouthed rivers,
opening in the direction of the stream of tide. For in
channels growing narrower gradually,,, the water is ac¬
cumulated
I4T
Theory of
Universal
Gravita¬
tion.
for.
142 ASTRO
Theory of cumulated by the opposition of the contracting bank j
Universal like a gentle wind, little felt on an open plain, but
Gravita. strong ami brisk in a streetespecially if the wider end
. t11^11' of the street be next the plain, and in the way of the
405 wind.
Irregularis The tides are so retarded in their passage through
ties of tides diflfcrent shoals and channels, and otherwise so various-
accounted a{yecte(l by striking against capes and headlands,
that to different places they happen at all distances of
the moon from the meridian, consequently at all hours
of the lunar day. The tide propagated by the moon
in the German ocean, when she is three hours past the
meridian, takes 12 hours to come from thence to
London bridge, where it arrives by the time that a
new tide is raised in the ocean. And therefore, when
the moon has north declination, and we should expect
the tide at London to be greatest when the moon is
above the horizon, we find it is least; and the contra¬
ry when she has south declination. At several places
it is high water three hours before the moon comes to
the meridian ; but that tide which the moon pushes as it
were before her, is only the tide opposite to that which
was raised by her when she was nine hours past the op¬
posite meridian.
There are no tides in lakes, because they are gene¬
rally so small, that when the moon is vertical she at¬
tracts every part of them alike, and therefore by ren¬
dering all the water equally light, no part of it can be
raised higher than another. The Mediterranean and
Baltic seas have very small elevations, because the inlets
by which they communicate with the ocean are so nar¬
row, that they cannot, in so short a time, receive or dis¬
charge enough to raise or sink their surfaces sensibly.
For a more complete discussion of this important sub¬
ject, we refer the reader to the article Tide.
Sect. IX. Of the Precession of the Equinoxes, and the
Nutation of the Eartfi’s Axis.
406
Precession
of the equi¬
noctial
points, Sec.
407
Observa¬
tions of
Newton
and others
on this sub
ject.
It now remains to consider the precession of the equi¬
noctial points, with its equations, arising from the nuta¬
tion of the earth’s axis as a physical phenomenon, and
to endeavour to account for it upon those mechanical
principles which have so happily explained all the other
phenomena of the celestial motions.
This did not escape the penetrating eye of Sir Isaac
Newton ; and he quickly found it to be a consequence,
and the most beautiful proof, of the universal gravitation
of all matter to all matter j and there is no part of his
immortal work where his sagacity and fertility of re¬
source shine more conspicuously than in this investiga¬
tion. It must be acknowledged, however, that New¬
ton’s investigation is only a shrewd guess, founded on
assumptions, of which it would be extremely difficult to
demonstrate either the truth or falsity, and which requir¬
ed the genius of a Newton to pick out in such a com¬
plication of abstruse circumstances, fhe subject has
occupied the attention of the first mathematicians of
Europe since his time j and is still considered as the
inost curious and difficult of all mechanical problems.
The most elaborate and accurate dissertations on the
precession of the equinoxes are those of Sylvabella and
Walmesly, in the Philosophical Transactions, published
about the year 17545 that of Thomas Simpson, publish¬
ed in his Miscellaneous Tracts 5 that of Father Frisius,
titm.
40$
N O M Y. Part IV,
in the Memoirs of the Berlin Academy, and afterwards, Theory of
with great improvements, in his Cosmographia 5 that of 'Universal
Euler in the Memoirs of Berlin 5 that of D’Alembert in G™yju'
a separate dissertation 5 and that of De la Grange on the
Libration of the Moon, which obtained the prize in
the Academy of Paris in 1769. We think the disserta¬
tion of Father Frisius the most perspicuous of them all,
being conducted in the method of geometrical analysis ;
whereas most of the others proceed in the fluxionary
and symbolic method, which is frequently deficient in
distinct notions of the quantities under consideration,
and therefore does not give us the same perspicuous
conviction of the truth of the results. In a work like
ours, it is impossible to do justice to the problem, with¬
out entering into a detail which would be thought ex¬
tremely disproportioned to the subject by the genera¬
lity of our readers. Yet those who have the necessary
preparation of mathematical knowledge, and wish to un¬
derstand the subject fully, will find enough here to give
them a very distinct notion of it; and in the article Ro¬
tation, they will find the fundamental theorems, which
will enable them to carry on the investigation. We shall
first give a short sketch of Newton’s investigation, which
is of the most palpable and popular kind, and is highly
valuable, not only for its ingenuity, but also because it
will give our unlearned readers distinct and satisfactory
conceptions of the chief circumstances of the whole phe¬
nomena.
Let S (fig. 154.) be the sun, E the earth, and M theSketchol
moon, moving in the orbit NMCD «, which cuts theNewtom
plane of the ecliptic in the line of the nodes N n, and™™8^
has one half raised above it, as represented in the figure,
the other half being hid below the ecliptic. Sup¬
pose this orbit folded down 5 it will coincide with the
ecliptic in the circle IN m e dn. Let EX represent the
axis of this orbit, perpendicular to its plane, and there¬
fore inclined to the ecliptic. Since the moon gravitates
to the sun in the direction MS which is all above the
ecliptic, it is plain that this gravitation has a tendency
to draw the moon towards the ecliptic. Suppose this
force to be such that it would draw the moon down
from M to i in the time that she would have moved
from M to t, in the tangent to her orbit. By the com¬
bination of these motions, the moon will desert her or¬
bit, and describe the line M r, which makes the diagonal
of the parallelogram 5 and if no farther action of the sun
be supposed, she will describe another orbit M § n', lying
between the orbit MCD n and the ecliptic, and she wilt
come to the ecliptic, and pass through it in a point n',
nearer to M than n is, which was the former place of her
descending node. By this change of orbit, the line EX
will no longer be perpendicular to it; but there will be
another line E x, which will now be perpendicular to
the new orbit. Also the moon, moving from M to r,
does not move as if she had come from the ascending
node N, but from a point N lying beyond it; and the
line of the nodes of the orbit in this new position is
N'ra. Also the angle MN'm is less than the angle
MN m.
Thus the nodes shift their places in a direction op¬
posite to that of her motion, or move to the westward 5
the axis of the orbit changes its position, and the orbit
itself changes its inclination to the ecliptic. These
momentary changes are different in different parts of
the orbit, according to the position of the line of the
nodes.
Pit IV.
ASTRONOM Y.
143
Thr7 of nodes. Sometimes the inclination of the orbit is in-
Uifprsal creased, and sometimes the nodes move to the eastward.
Gw'ta- But, in general, the inclination increases from the time
j*n' „ that the nodes are in the line of syzigee, till they get in¬
to quadrature, after which it diminishes till the nodes
are again in syzigee. The nodes advance only while
they are in the octants after the quadratures, and while
the moon passes from quadrature to the node, and they
recede in all other situations. Therefore the recess ex¬
ceeds the advance in every revolution of the moon round
the earth, and, on the whole, they recede.
What has been said of one moon, would be true of
each of a continued ring of moons surrounding the
earth, and they would thus compose a flexible ring,
which would never be flat, but rvaved, according to the
difference (both in kind and degree) of the disturbing
forces acting on its different parts. But suppose these
moons to cohere, and to form a rigid and flat ring, no¬
thing would remain in this ring but the excess of the con¬
trary tendencies of its different parts. Its axis would be
perpendicular to its plane, and its position in any moment
will be the mean position of all the axes of the orbits of
each part of the flexible ring ; therefore the nodes of
this rigid ring will continually recede, except when the
plane of the ring passes through the sun, that is, when
the nodes are in syzigee; and (says Newton) the mo¬
tion of these nodes will be the same with the mean mo¬
tion of the nodes of the orbit of one moon. The in¬
clination of this ring to the ecliptic will be equal to
the mean inclination of the moon’s orbit during any one
revolution which has the same situation of the nodes.
It will therefore be least of all when the nodes are in
quadrature, and will increase till they are in syzigee,
and then diminish till they are again in quadrature.
Suppose this ring to contract in dimensions, the dis¬
turbing forces will diminish in the same proportion, and
in this proportion will all their effects diminish. Sup¬
pose its motion of revolution to accelerate, or the time
of a revolution to diminish ; the linear effects of the dis¬
turbing forces being as the squares of the times of their
action, and their angular effects as the times, those er¬
rors must diminish also on this account ; and we can
compute what those errors will be for any diameter of
the ring, and for any period of its revolution. We can
tell, therefore, what would be the motion of the nodes,
the change of inclination, and deviation of the axis, of a
ring which would touch the surface of the earth, and
jj revolved in 24 hours j nay, we can tell what these mo¬
tions would he, should this ring adhere to the earth.
I| They must he much less than if the ring were detached j
for the disturbing forces of the ring must drag along
with it the whole globe of the earth. Tire quantity of
motion which the disturbing forces would have produced
in the ring alone, will now (says Newton) be produced
in the whole mass ; and therefore the velocity must be
as much less as the quantity of matter is greater : But
still this can he computed.
Now there is such a ring on the earth: for the earth
is not a sphere, but an elliptical spheroid. Sir Isaac New¬
ton therefore engaged in a computation of the effects of
the disturbing force, and has exhibited a most beautiful
example of mathematical investigation. He first asserts,
that the earth be an elliptical spheroid, whose po¬
lar axis is to its equatorial diameter as 229 to 230.
Then lie demonstrates, that if the sine of the inclina¬
tion of the equator be called w, and if t be the num¬
ber of days (sidereal) in a year, the annual motion of
a detached ring will be 360° X
3s/1
4 *
He then
shows that the effect of the disturbing force on this
ring is to its effect on the matter of the same ring, dis¬
tributed in the form of an elliptical stratum (but still
detached) as 5 to 2 •, therefore the motion of the nodes
will be 360° X ,or 16'i6"24,/,annually. He
then proceeds to show, that the quantity of motion in
the sphere is to that in an equatorial ring revolving in
the same time, as the matter in the sphere to the mat¬
ter in the ring, and as three times the square of a qua-
drantal arch to two squares of a diameter, jointly :
Then he shows, that the quantity of matter in the ter¬
restrial sphere is to that in the protuberant matter of
the spheroid, as 52900 to 461 (supposing all homoge¬
neous). From these premises it follows, that the mo¬
tion of 16' 16" 24"', must be diminished in the ratio of
10717 to 100, which reduces it to 9" 07"' annually.
And this (he says) is the precession of the equinoxes,
occasioned by the action of the sun ; and the rest of the
50^, which is the observed precession, is owing to the
action of the moon, nearly live times greater than that
of the sun. This appeared a great difficulty : for the
phenomena of the tides show that cannot much exceed
twice the sun’s force. ,r^
Nothing can exceed the ingenuity of this process. His deter-
Justly does his celebrated and candid commentator, Da-mination
niel Bernoulli, say (in his Dissertation on the Tides,of t^e.lorm
which shared the prize of the French Academy with
M‘Laurin and Euler), that Newton saw through a veil garth ,]e_
what others could hardly discover with a microscope monstrated
in the light of the meridian sun. His determination ofby M‘JLau»
the form and dimensions of the earth, which is thenn*
foundation of the whole process, is not offered as any
thing better than a probable guess, in re difflcillima ;
and it has been since demonstrated with geometrical
rigour by M‘Laurin.
His next principle, that the motion of the nodes of
the rigid ring is equal to the mean motion of the nodes
of the moon, has been most critically discussed by the
first mathematicians, as a thing which could neither he
proved nor refuted. Frisius has at least shown it to
he a mistake, and that the motion of the nodes of the
ring is double the mean motion of the nodes of a single
moon ; and that Newton’s own principles should have
produced a precession of i 8^ seconds annually, which
removes the difficulty formerly mentioned.
H is third assumption, that the quantity of motion
of the ring must be shared with the included sphere,
was acquiesced in by all his commentators, till D’Alem¬
bert and Fuler, in 1749, showed that it was not the
quantity of motion round an axis of rotation which re¬
mained the same, but the quantity of momentum or ro¬
tatory effort. The quantity of motion is the product
of every particle by its velocity 5 that is, by its distance
from the axis ; while its momentum, or power of pro¬
ducing rotation, is as the square of that distance, and is
to be had by taking the sum of each particle multiplied
by the square of its distance from the axis. Since the
earth
14-1-
4io
Examina¬
tion of the
phenome¬
non of pre¬
cession on
mechanical
principles.
ASTRONOMY.
eaTtli diners so little from a perfect sphere, this makes the sun
no sensible difference in the result. It will increase New¬
ton’s precession about three-fourths of a second.
We proceed now to the examination of this pheno¬
menon upon the fundamental principles of mechanics.
Because the mutual gravitation of the particles of
matter in the solar system is in'the inverse ratio of the
squares of the distance, it follows, that the gravitations
of the different parts of the earth to the sun or to the
moon are unequal. The nearer particles gravitate more
than those that are more remote.
Let PQy? E (fig. i J5-), be a meridional section of
the terrestrial sphere, and PO pq the section of the in¬
scribed sphere. Let CS be a line in the plane of the
ecliptic passing through the sun, so that the angle ECS
is the sun’s declination. Let NCM be a plane passing
through the centre of the earth at right angles to the
plane of the meridian PQ p E j NCM will therefore be
the plane of illumination.
In consequence of the unequal gravitation of the mat¬
ter of the earth to the sun, every particle, such as B, is
acted on by a disturbing force parallel to CS, and pro¬
portional to BD, the distance of the particle from the
plane of illumination 5 and this force is to the gravi¬
tation of the central particle to the sun, as three times
BD is to CS, the distance of the earth from the sun.
Let AB a be a plane passing through the particle B,
parallel to the plane EQ of the equator. This section
of the earth will be a circle, of which A a is a diameter,
and Q q will be the diameter of its section with the in¬
scribed sphere. These will be two concentric circles,
and the ring by which the section of the spheroid ex¬
ceeds the section of the sphere will have AQ for its
breadth j P is the axis of figure.
Let EC be presented by the symbol
OC or PC -
EO their difference rr 7-
a-\-v
CL -
QL - - - -
The periphery of a circle to radius I
The disturbing force at the distance
from the plane NCM
The sine of declination ECS
The cosine of ECS
s/ d1—x*
n
S
It is evident, that with respect to the inscribed sphere,
the disturbing forces are completely compensated, for
every particle has a corresponding particle in the ad¬
joining quadrant, which is acted on by an equal and
opposite force. But this is not the case with the pro¬
tuberant matter which makes up the spheroid. The
segments NS s n and MT t m are more acted on than
the segments NT t n and MS s m; and thus there is
produced a tendency to a conversion of the whole
earth, round an axis passing through the centre C,
perpendicular to the plane PQyj E. We shall distin¬
guish this motion from all others to which the spheroid
may be subject, by the name LlBRATlON. The axis
of this libration is always perpendicular to that diameter
of the equator over which the sun is, or to that meridian
in which he is.
Pros. I. To determine the momentum of lihration
corresponding to any position of the earth respecting
Part IV
that is, to determine the accumulated energy Theory
of the disturbing forces on all the protuberant matter of Univensl
the spheroid.
Let B and b be two particles in the ring formed by
the revolution of AQ, and so situated, that they are at
equal distances from the plane NM ; but on opposite
sides of it. Draw BD, b d, perpendicular to NM, and
FLG perpendicular to LT.
Then, because the momentum, or power of produ*
cing rotation, is as the force and as the distance of its
line of direction from the axis of rotation, jointly, tl»e
combined momentum of the particles B and b, will be
f.X$Y).Y)C—f.bd.d c, (for the particles B and b are
urged in contrary directions). But the momentum of
B isyiBF.DC-f-yiFD.DC, and that of ^ is f.b.G.dC—
f.dG.dC 5 and the combined momentum is yiBF.D f/——
/.FD.DC+rfC7= 2/.BF.LF—2/.LT.TC.
Because m and n are the sine and cosine of the angle
ECS or LCT, we have LT=:ot.CL, and CT = n. CL,
and LF^ot.BL, and BF=«.BL. This gives the mo¬
mentum =: 2/mn BL2—CL2’
The breadth AQ of the protuberant ring being very
small, we may suppose, without any sensible error, that
all the matter of the line AQ is collected in the point
Q $ and, in like manner, that the matter of the whole
ring is collected in the circumference of its inner circle,
and that B and b now represent, not single particles,
but the collected matter of lines such as AQ, which
terminate at B and b. The combined momentum of two
such lines will therefore he 2 mnyiAQ.BL*—CLa.
Let the circumference of each parallel of latitude be
divided into a great number of indefinitely small and
equal parts. The number of such parts in the circum¬
ference, of which Q y is the diameter, will be irQL.
To each pair of these there belongs a momentum 2m nj
•AQ’BTi —-CL*. The sum of all the squares of BL,
which can be taken round the circle, is one half of as
many squares of the radius CL : for BL is the sine of
an arch, and the sum of its square and the square of
its corresponding cosine is equal to the square of the
radius. Therefore the sum of all the squares of tire
sines, together with the sum of all the squares of the
cosines, is equal to the sum of the same number of
squares of the radius $ and the sum of the squares of
the sines is equal to the sum of the squares of the cor¬
responding cosines j therefore the sum of the squares of
the radius is double of either sum. Therefore / Il'QL
•EL*=4n-QL*QL2. In like manner the sum of the
number II-QL of CL2^ will be = irQL'CL2. These
sums, taken for the semicircle, are ^irQL'QL*, and
in QL-CL2, or II-QL^QL2, and n-QL.^CL2 : there¬
fore the momentum of the whole ring will he 2 m n f
•AQ'QL*ir(5QL—|CL2) : for the momentum of tire
ring is the combined momenta of a number of pairs,
and this number is 4n*QL.
By the ellipse we have OC : QL rr EO : AQ, and
EO d
AQ=QL , =QL - ; therefore the momentum of
the ring is 2 m (|QL*—4CL*), — mnj~b
Q (tQ E*—C L2) : but Q L*:=£2—j therefore
i QL*
Th
TJn trsal ^
‘Gr
IV.
Ill = U2—l
ASTRONOMY.
b*—3,v2
145
ta-
^~~sxly
therefore the momentum of the ring is mnf - IT {]?—a?2)
rd [b*—4^2^2+3^4\ C rd
-.mni -n\   L-2—= mnf—rU
2 / J b \ 2 /’ J 2b
(b*—4/>iz«2-}-3^4). If we now suppose another paral¬
lel extremely near to A a, as represented by the dotted
line, the distance L l between them being at, we shall
have the fluxion of the momentum of the spheroid
lii nf—~U (J^x—4&V!#-j-3tf4#), of which the fluent is
m nf -An '\b*x—j. This expresses the mo¬
mentum of the zone EA a Q, contained between the
equator and the parallel of latitude A a. Now let x
become and we shall obtain the momentum of the
hemispheroid — mnf ~T\ {b$—an(^ ^iat °f
the spheroid = m n(b* —■ 4 + b's')—-Lm nfd
b 15
rib*.
This formula does not express any motion, but only
a pressure tending to produce motion, and particularly
tending to produce a libration by its action on the co¬
hering matter of the earth, which is affected as a num¬
ber of levers. It is similar to the common mechanical
formula w. d, where w means a weight, and d its di¬
stance from the fulcrum of the lever.
It is worthy of remark, that the momentum of this
protuberant matter is just 4 of what it would be if it
were all collected at the point O of the equator : for
the matter in the spheroid is to that in the inscribed
sphere as «2 to 62, and the contents of the inscribed
sphere is 4 n b*. Therefore «* : a2—b3 : 4nZ>J
o*—b* . .
———, which is the quantity of protuberant mat¬
ter. We may, without sensible error, suppose   —
Cl
— 2d; then the protuberant matter will be ^Tlfrd. If
all this were placed at O, the momentum would be 4 H
^^/0,H*HC,=4 m nf d b*, because OH'llQ—ninb*;
now 4 is 5 times T4-.
Also, because the sum of all the rectangles OH’HC
round the equator is half of as many squares of OC, it
follows that the momentum of the protuberant matter
placed in a ring round the equator of the sphere, or
spheroid, is one half of what it would be if collected in
the point G or E ; whence it follows that the momen¬
tum of the protuberant matter in its natural place is
two-fifths of what it would he if it were disposed in an
equatorial ring. It was in this manner, that Sir Isaac
Newton was enabled to compare the effect of the sun’s
action on the protuberant matter of the earth, with his
effect on a rigid ring of moons. The preceding in¬
vestigation of the momentum is nearly the same with
his, and appears to us greatly preferable in point of
perspicuity to the fluxionary solutions given by later
authors. These indeed have the appearance of greater
accuracy, because they do not suppose all the protube¬
rant matter to he condensed on the surface of the in¬
scribed sphere: nor were we under the necessity of do¬
ing this ; only it would have led to very complicated
Yol. III. Part I. t
411
axis. Effects of
expressions, had we supposed the matter in each line
AQ collected in its centre of oscillation or gyration.
W e made a compensation for the error introduced by
this which may amount to X4x of the whole, and
should not be neglected, by taking d as equal to
a2—b* . a2—
 — instead ot —. ine consequence is, that our
2a a + b ^ ’
formula is the same with that of the later authors.
Thus far Sir Isaac Newton proceeded with mathema¬
tical rigour; but in the application he made two assump¬
tions, or, as he calls them hypotheses, which have been
found to be unwarranted. The first was, that when
the ring of protuberant matter is connected with the in¬
scribed sphere, and subjected to the action of the di¬
sturbing force, the same quantity of motion is produced
in the whole mass as in the ring alone. The second
was, that the motion of the nodes of a rigid ring of
moons is the same with the mean motion of the nodes
of a solitary moon. But we are now able to demon¬
strate, that it is not the quantity of motion, but of mo¬
mentum, which remains the same, and that the nodes
of a rigid ring move twice as fast as those of a single
particle. We proceed therefore to,
ProB. II. To determine the deviation of the
and the retrograde motion of the nodes which result the lihrato-
from this libratory momentum of the earth’s protube-ry inoir!e,u'
,, turn 01 the
rant matter. earth s pro-
But here we must refer our readers to some funda-tuberant
mental propositions of rotatory motions which are de- matter,
monstrated in the article Rotation.
If a rigid body is turning round an axis A, passing
through its centre of gravity with the angular velocity
a, and receives an impulse which alone would cause it
to turn round an axis B, also passing through its centre
of gravity, with the angular velocity b, the body will
now turn round a third axis C, passing through its cen¬
tre of gravity, and lying in the plane of the axis A and
B, and the sine of the inclination of this third axis to
the axis A will be to the sine of the inclination to the
axis B as the velocity b to the velocity a.
When a rigid body is made to turn round any axis
by the action of an external force, the quantity of mo¬
mentum produced (that is, the sum of the products of
every particle by its velocity and by its distance from
the axis) is equal to the momentum or similar product
of the moving force or forces.
If an oblate spheroid, whose equatorial diameter is a,
and polar diameter b, be made to librate round an equa¬
torial diameter, and the velocity of that point of the
equator which is farthest from the axis of libration be t\
the momentum of the spheroid is ~n azb2v.
I5
The two last are to be found in every elementary
book of mechanics.
Let AN an (fig. 156.) be the plane of the earth’s equa¬
tor, cutting the ecliptic CNKw in the line of the nodes
or equinoctial points N a. Let OAS he the section of
the earth by a meridian passing through the sun, so
that the line OCS is in the ecliptic, and CA is an arch
of an hour-circle or meridian, measuring the sun’s de¬
clination. The sun not being in the plane of the equa¬
tor, there is, by prop. I. a force tending to produce a
libration round an axis ZO2; at right angles to the dia¬
meter A a of that meridian in which the sun is situated,
T and
146 ASTRONOMY
Theory of an^ momentum of all the disturbing forces is
Universal nf dU b*. The product of any force by the mo¬
ment t of its action expresses the momentary increment
of velocity; therefore the momentary velocity, or the
Part IV,
ing in the equator of libration), as a r to mnf dt*, Theory
and completing the parallelogram kr me, km will Universal
be the compound motion of A, and a r : m n df l* ^tion^
velocity of libration granted in the time t \% ^mnfd
Tlb*t. This is the absolute velocity of a point at the
distance 1 from the axis, or it is the space which would
be uniformly described in the moment t, with the velo¬
city which the point has acquired at the end of that
moment. It is double the space actually described by
the libration during that moment $ because this has
been an uniformly accelerated motion, in consequence
of the continued and uniform action of the momentum
during this time. This must be carefully attended to,
and the neglect of it has occasioned very faulty solu¬
tions of this problem.
Let v be the velocity produced in the point A, the
most remote from the axis of libration. The momen¬
tum excited or produced in the spheroid is b*v
(as above), and this must be equal to the momentum of
the moving force, or to m nf dll b^t; therefore we
. -^mnfdU bAt . r
obtain V— -r^-— , that is, v~m n f dt — or
H o26 ’ J a*
b*
very nearly m nf d t, because —1 very nearly. Al¬
so, because the product of the velocity and time gives
the space uniformly described in that time, the space de¬
scribed by A in its libration round Z2; is mnf dt*, and
, . , . . m n f dt
the angular velocity is  ^ .
Let r be the momentary angle of diurnal rotation.
The arch kr, described by the point A of the equa¬
tor in this moment t will therefore be ar, that is, ay^r,
• • CIV
and the velocity of the point A is —, and the angular
r
velocity of rotation is —.
t
Here then is a body (fig. 157.) turning round an axis
OP, perpendicular to the plane of the equator « 0 », and
therefore situated in the plane ZPss; and it turns round
v
this axis with the angular velocity —. It has received
t
an impulse, by which alone it would librate round the
m n f d t
axis Ziz, with the angular velocity
It will
therefore turn round neither axis, but round a third
axis OP', passing through O, and lying in the plane
ZP 2;, in which the other two are situated, and the
sine P'lT of its inclination to the axis of libration Z2;
will be to the sine Vp of its inclination to the axis OP
r m n f dt
of rotation as — to ; .
t a
Now A, in fig. 156. is the summit of the equator
both of libration and rotation : m nf dt* is the space
described by its libration in the time t; and a r is the
space or arch Ar (fig. 156.) described in the same time
by its rotation : therefore, taking A r to A e (perpen¬
dicular to the plane of the equator of rotation, and ly-
3
77171 t Cl t*
~ I ’•  , which will be the tangent of the angle
ar
7n A r, or of the change of position of the equator.
But the axes of rotation are perpendicular to their
equator; and therefore the angle of deviation w is
equal to this angle r A m. This appears from fig. c. :
for n P' : Y’p—O'p : P'p,:=OP : tan. POP j and it is
evident that ar \ mnfdt*— —m nf d—, as is requi-
t a
red by the composition of rotations.
In consequence of this change of position, the plane
of the equator no longer cuts the plane of the ecliptic
in the line N n. The plane of the new equator cuts the
former equator in the line AO, and the part AN of the
former equator lies between the ecliptic and the new
equator AN', while the part Aw of the former equator
is above the new one Aw'j therefore the new node N',
from which the point A was moving, is removed to the
westward, or farther from A j and the new node to
which A is approaching, is also moved westward, or near¬
er to A j and this happens in every position of A. The
nodes therefore, or equinoctial points, continually shift to
the westward, or in a contrary direction to the rotation of
the earth ; and the axis of rotation always deviates to the
east side of the meridian which passes through the sun.
This account of the motions is extremely different
from what a person should naturally expect. If the
earth were placed in the summer solstice, with respect
to us who inhabit its northern hemisphere, and had no
rotation round its axis, the equator would begin to ap¬
proach the ecliptic, and the axis would become more
upright; and this would go on with a motion conti¬
nually accelerating, till the equator coincided with the
ecliptic. It would not stop here, but go as far on the
other side, till its motion were extinguished by the op¬
posing forces j and it would return to its former position,
and again begin to approach the ecliptic, playing up
and down like the arm of a balance. On this account
this motion is very properly termed libixition : but this
very slow libration, compounded with the incomparably
swifter motion of diurnal rotation, produces a third mo¬
tion extremely different from both. At first the north
pole of the earth inclines forward toward the sun j after
a long course of years it will incline to the left hand, as
viewed from the sun, and be much more inclined to the
ecliptic, and the plane of the equator will pass through
the sun. The south pole will come into view, and
the north pole will begin to decline from the sun j and
this will go on (the inclination of the equator dimi¬
nishing all the while) till, after a course of years, the
north pole will be turned quite away from the sun, and
the inclination of the equator will be restored to its
original quantity. After this the phenomena will have
another period similar to the former, but the axis will
now deviate to the right hand. And thus, although
both the earth and sun should not move from their
places, the inhabitants of the earth would have a com¬
plete succession of the seasons accomplished in a period
of many centuries. This would be prettily illustrated
by an iron ring poised very nicely on a cap like the card
of
Pitt IV. A S T R
Tlfary »f a mariner’s compass, having its centre of gravity co-
tlnii-rsal inciding with the point of the cap, so that it may whirl
Gfta- ronnd in any position. As this is extremely difficult to
■ .l' . execute, the cap may be pierced a little deeper, which
will cause the ring to maintain a horizontal position
with a very small force. When the ring is whirling
very steadily, and pretty briskly, in the direction of the
hours of a watch-dial, hold a strong magnet above the
middle of the nearer semicircle (above the 6 hour point)
at the distance of three or four inches. We shall imme¬
diately observe the ring rise from the 9 hour point, and
sink at the 3 hour point, and gradually acquire a mo¬
tion of precession and nutation, such as has been de¬
scribed.
If the earth be now put in motion round the sun, or
the sun round the earth, motions of libration and devia¬
tion will still obtain, and tbe succession of their different
phases, if we may so call them, will be perfectly analo¬
gous to the above statement. But the quantity of devi¬
ation, and change of inclination, will now be prodigi¬
ously diminished, because the rapid change of the sun’s
position quickly diminishes the disturbing forces, annihi¬
lates them by bringing the sun into the plane of the
equator, and brings opposite forces into action.
We see in general that the deviation of the axis is al¬
ways at right angles to the plane passing through the sun,
and that the axis, instead of being raised from the eclip¬
tic, or brought nearer to it, as the libration would occa¬
sion, deviates sidewise ; and the equator, instead of be¬
ing raised or depressed round its east and west points, is
!, twisted sidewise round the north and south points ; or at
least things have this appearance : but we must now at¬
tend to this circumstance more minutely.
The composition of rotation shows us that this
change of the axis of diurnal rotation is by no means a
translation of the former axis (which we may suppose
to be the axis of figure) into a new position, in which
it again becomes the axis of diurnal motion ; nor does
j the equator of figure, that is, the most prominent sec¬
tion of the terrestrial spheroid* change its position, and
; in this new position continue to be the equator of ro¬
tation. This was indeed supposed by Sir Isaac New¬
ton 5 and this supposition naturally resulted from the
train of reasoning which he adopted. It was strictly
true of a single moon, or of the imaginary orbit attach¬
ed to it *, and therefore Newton supposed that the whole
earth did in this manner deviate from its former posi¬
tion, still, however, turning round its axis of figure.
In this he has been followed by Walmesly, Simpson, and
most of his commentators. D’Alembert was tbe first
who entertained any suspicion that this might not be
certain ; and both he and Euler at last showed that the
new axis of rotation vyas really a new line in the body
of the earth, and that its axis and equator of figure did
not remain the axis and equator of rotation. They as¬
certained the position of the real axis by means of a most
intricate analysis, which obscured the connexion of the
different positions of the axis with each other, and gave
us only a kind of momentary information. Father Fri-
sius turned bis thoughts to this problem, and fortunately
discovered the composition of rotations as a general
principle of mechanical philosophy. Few things of
this kind have escaped the penetrating eyes of Sir Isaac
Newton. Even this principle had been glanced at by
himi He affirms it in express terms with respect to
,
O N O M V. ,
a body that is perfectly spherical (cor. 22. prop. 66. Theory of
book i.). But it was reserved for Frisius to demonstrate Universal
it to be true of bodies of any figure, and thus to enrich Uravita-
mechanical science with a principle which gives simple tU)11'
and elegant solutions of the most difficult problems. -y-
But here a very formidable objection naturally offers
itself. If the axis of the diurnal motion of the heavens
is not the axis of the earth’s spheroidal figure, but an
imaginary line in it, round which even the axis of figure
must revolve * and if this axis of diurnal rotation has so
greatly changed its position, that it now points at a star
at least 12 degrees distant from the pole observed by
I imochares, how comes it that the equator has the very
same situation on the surface of the earth that it had m
ancient times ? No sensible change has been observed
in the latitudes of places.
The answer is very simple and satisfactory : Suppose
that in 12 hours the axis of rotation has changed from
the position PR (fig. 158.) to pr, so that the north pole,
instead of being at P, which we may suppose to be a par¬
ticular mountain, is now at p. In this 12 hours the
mountain P, by its rotation round p r, has acquired the
position Jr. At the end of the next 12 hours, the axis
of rotation has got the position «■£, and the axis of figure
has got the position p r, and the mountain P is now at
p. Ihus, on the noon of the following day, the axis of
figure PR is in the situation which the real axis of rota¬
tion occupied at the intervening midnight. This goes
on continually, and the axis of figure follows the posi¬
tion of the axis of rotation, and is never further remo¬
ved from it than the deviation of 12 hours, which does
not exceed 7~^th part of one second, a quantity altoge¬
ther imperceptible. Therefore the axis of figure will
always sensibly coincide with the axis of rotation, and
no change can be produced in the latitudes of places on
the surface of the earth.
We have hitherto considered this problem in the most Applica-
general manner; let us now apply the knowledge we ti°n °f this
have gotten of the deviation of the axis or of the mo- reasoning
mentary action of the disturbing force to the explanation
of the phenomena; that is, let us see what precession sJon.^
and what nutation will be accumulated after any given
time of action.
For this purpose we must ascertain the precise devia¬
tion which the disturbing forces are competent to pro¬
duce. I his we can do by comparing the momentum of
libration with the gravitation of the earth to the sun,
and this with the force which would retain a body on
the equator while the earth turns round its axis.
The gravitation of the earth to the sun is in the pro¬
portion of tbe sun’s quantity of matter M directly, and
to the square of the distance A inversely, and may there-
M
fore be expressed by the symbol —. The disturbing
force at the distance 1 from the place of illumination
is to the gravitation of the earth’s centre to the sun as
3 to A, (A being measured on the same scale which
measures the distance from the plane of illumination).
3M
Therefore will be the disturbing force f of our for¬
mula.
Let p be the centrifugal force of a particle at the
distance 1 from the axis of rotation ; and let t and T
be the time of rotation and of annual revolution, viz.
T 2 sidereal
148
Theory of
Universal
Gravita¬
tion.
A
sidereal day and year. Then P :
S T R O
_A
: .p
Hence
• O r *
we derive But since r was the angu-
' A3 J l1
jar velocity of rotation, and conseq,uently lX?‘the
space described, and —7— the velocity ; and since the
centrifugal force is as the square of the velocity divided
by the radius, (this being the measure of the generated
velocity, which is the proper measure of any accele¬
rating force), we haveyr
tx
1 X y,‘
— —, and/:
3 r
t1
X Now the formula/m n d— expressed the sine
of the angle. This being extremely small, the sine may
be considered as equal to the arc which measures the
angle. Now, substitute for it the value now found, viz.
3— x —, and we obtain the angle of deviation w—r
i1 T*
and this is the simplest form in which it
T1 a
can appear. But it is convenient, for other reasons, to
a*—bx
express it a little differently: d is nearly equal to
2 or
O ft (ft . .
5 mn —and this is the form
therefore w—r X —
2 1 a
in which we shall now employ it.
2 ft eft — • •
The small anale r Ak™> n™ is the angle in which
a 211 a*
the new equator cuts the former one. It is different at
different times, as appears from the variable part m n,
the product of the sine and cosine of the sun’s declina¬
tion. It will be a maximum when the declination is in
the solstice, for mn increases all the way to 450, and the
declination never exceeds It increases, therefore,
from the equinox to the solstice, and then diminishes.
Let ESL (fig. 159.) be the ecliptic, EAC the equa¬
tor, BAD the new position which it acquires by the
momentary action of the sun, cutting the former in the
• 3 a*—b*
angle BAE=r
•mn
Let S be the sun’s
place in the ecliptic, and AS the sun’s declination, the
meridian AS being perpendicular to the equator. Let
2/2 *2 ft
^ — be k. The angle BAE is then ~r —rrr^kmn.
a* 2
In
N O M Y.
Part IV,
non.
BE is indefinitely small, CD may be taken for the dif- Theory
ference of LD and l c, they being ultimately in the Universal
ratio of equality. Therefore CD measures the change Gl;/ta'
of the obliquity of the ecliptic, or the nutation of the
axis with respect to the ecliptic.
The real deviation of the axis is the same with the
change in the position of the equator, Pp being the
measure of the angle EAB. But this not being al¬
ways made in a plane perpendicular to the ecliptic, the
change of obliquity generally differs from the change
in the position of the axis. Thus, when the sun is in
the solstice, the momentary change of the position of
the equator is the greatest possible 5 but being made at
right angles to the plane in which the obliquity of the
ecliptic is computed, it makes no change whatever in
the obliquity, but the greatest possible change in the
precession.
In order to find CD the change of obliquity, observe
that in the triangle CAD, B : sin. AC, or H : cos.
AE=sin. A : sin. CD, =A : CD (because A and CD
are exceedingly small). Therefore the change of obli¬
quity (which is the thing commonly meant by nutation)
CD=A X cos. AE, =r -pjra k m n, cos. AE' =r A—
kx sin. declin. X cos. declin. Xcos. E. ascens.
But it is more convenient for the purposes of astro¬
nomical computation to make use of the sun’s longitude
SE. Therefore make
The sun’s longitude ES
— 25
= x
the spherical triangle BAE we have sin. B : sin. AE—
sin. A : sin. BE, “or = A : BE, because very small
angles and arches are as their sines. Therefore BE,
which is the momentary precession of the equinoctial . ^
. . -r, . , . a sin. AE _ 3 P the momentary nutation will be r—y^kp ley. In this
point E, is equal to A ^ , — r X nmn 2 1
Sine of the sun’s long. - - —
Cosine I—**= y
Sine obliq. eclipt. - - 23^= p
Cosine obliq. - - - — (J
In the spherical triangle EAS, right-angled at A
(because AS is the sun’s declination perpendicular to
the equator), we have K : sin. ESrrsin. E : sin. AS,
and sin. AS=ry;«. Also K : cos. ASrrcos. AE : cos.
ES, and cos. ES or y=cos. AS X cos. AE. There¬
fore pxy— sin. AS cos. AS X cos. AE, =?» n x cos. AE.
* 3 ft
Therefore the momentary nutation CD=r
We must recollect that this angle is a certain frac¬
tion of the momentary diurnal rotation. It is more
convenient to consider it as a fraction of the sun’s an¬
nual motion, that so we may directly compare his mo¬
tion on the ecliptic with the precession and nutation
corresponding to his situation in the heavens. This
change is easily made, by augmenting the fraction in
the ratio of the sun’s angular motion to the motion of
T
rotation, or multiplying the fraction by — ; therefore
4i3
Various
modes of
application,
. B
sin. E. ascens.
sin. obi. eel.
The equator EAC, by taking the position BAD,
recedes from the ecliptic in the colure of the solstices
CL, and CD is the change of obliquity or the nu¬
tation. For let CL be the solstitial colure of BAD,
and cl the solstitial colure of EAC. Then we have
sin. B : sin. E = sin. LD : sin. Ic; and therefore the
difference of the arches LD and Ic will be the measure
of the difference of the angles B and E. But when
2
va{ue j t ^P is a constant quantity, and the momentary
2 i
nutation is proportional to xy, or to the product of the
sine and cosine of the sun’s longitude, or to the sine of
twice the sun’s longitude j for xy is equal to half the
sine of twice 2.
If therefore we multiply this fraction by the sun’s
momentary angular motion, which we may suppose, with
abundant accuracy, proportional to 2;, we obtain the
fluxion of the nutation, th.e fluent of which will ex¬
press
?* IV.
q.jJL 0f press the whole nutation while the sun describes the
UiJjrsaJ acch 2 of the ecliptic, beginning at the vernal equr-
G*t.a- nox> Therefore, in place of y put I—and in place
tation for the moment when the sun’s longitude is $s,
and the fluent will be the whole nutation. The fluxion
resulting from this process is xx, of which the
fluent is a?*. This is the whole change produ-
A
ced on the obliquity of the ecliptic while the sun moves
along the arch 25 ecliptic, reckoned from the vernal
equinox. When this arch is 90°, # is 1, and there¬
fore - Vi" ^ the nutation produced while the sun moves
4 # .
44 from the equinox to the solstice.
'lie cil The momentary change of the axis and plane of the
ml n>- equator (which is the measure of the changing force)
rf .3^
laIl 18 n'
re at.it at 2 1
he sdii- The momentary change of the obliquity of the eelip-
er* at ntkn
he ejii- tic is -—
loxdfiiO- 2 I
hin|
ASTRONOMY. 149
the equinoxes while the sun moves from the vernal Tlieory of
equinox along the arch z of the ecliptic.
3tkq
of 25 put
\T'
and we have the fluxion of the nu-
In this expression, which consists of two parts,
Universal
Gravita¬
tion.
The whole change of obliquity is
StkP
4 1
nne.
CD = -^L=:
V l—X
q x
cos. long. ~ 1—A?*
and CD =r EB
Therefore EB
sin. obliq. eclip.
tan. long. ©
H t k T) •
lue found in N° 40, viz. x x,
o ^ k(jx*x
X—y— , the fluxion of the precession of the
2 L ^/i—.r-
equinoxes occasioned by the action of the sun. The
xx
If we now substitute for CD its va-
we obtain EB zr
fluent of the variable part
— xy, of which
the fluent is evidently a segment of a circle whose arch
is 2! and sine a\ that is, zr ——_ . .1 and the
2
rvliole precession, while the sun describes the arch 2;,
is -^Tjr; X —( 2—XfJ i—This is the precession of
CtJ 1—the first is incomparably
3, and
4 ^ ^
greater than the second, which never exceeds i", and is
always compensated in the succeeding quadrant. The
Q, t k q
'w
25, and
precession occasioned by the sun will be
from this expression we see that the precession increases
uniformly, or at least increases at the same rate with
the sun’s longitude ss.
, . . 3 tkq .
because the quantity - is
constant. 416
In order to make use of these formulae, which are Mode of
now reduced to very great simplicity, it is necessary t0
determine the
3 tkp 3 tkq
values of the two constant quantities
which we shall call N and P, as factors
4t ’ 4T ,
of the nutation and precession. Now t is one sidereal
day, and T is 3665. k is —^—, which according to
Sir Isaac Newton is
2312—230*
•jpandy
Hence we see that the force and the real momentary
change of position are greatest at the solstices, and di¬
minish to nothing at the equinoxes.
The momentary change of obliquity is greatest at the
octants, being proportional to x x or to x y.
The whole accumulated change of obliquity is
greatest at the solstices, the obliquity itself being then
smallest.
tuanty of We must in like manner find the accumulated quan-
iree« ion tity of the precession after a given time, that is, the
1 Pen arch BE for a finite time.
We have ER : CD ~ sin. EA : sin. CA (or cos.
EA) = tan. EA : i,andEB : ERm : sin.B. There¬
fore EB : CD=tan. EA : sin. B. But tan. EA=
. -no t-. sin. long,
cos. Ex tan. ES, = cos. Ex
231 . Hi
are the sine and cosine of 230 28', viz. 0,39822 and
0,91729.
These data give Nz=  ^ and Pro   , of
0 141030 61224
which the logarithms are 4.85069 and 5.21308, viz.
the arithmetical complements of 5.14931 and 4.78692. 417
Let us, for an example of the use of this investiga-Example of
tion, compute the precession of the equinoxes when the^®^1*1^
sun has moved from the vernal equinox to the summer
solstice, so that z is 90°, or 324000".
Log. 324ooo"=25 - - - 5:51055
Log. P - - - - - 5-21308
Log. 5",292 - . - . 0.72363
The precession therefore in a quarter of a year is
5,292 seconds *, and, since it increases uniformly, it is
2l", 168 annually. 418
We must now recollect the assumptions on whichAsramp-
tbis computation proceeds. The earth is supposed t°he
be homogeneous, and the ratio of its equatorial diame”conipUla.
ter to its polar axis is supposed to be that of 231 to tion pro-
230. If the earth be more or less protuberant attheeeeds.
equator, the precession will be greater or less in the ra¬
tio of this protuberance. The measures which have
been taken of the degrees of the meridian are very in¬
consistent among themselves j and although a compari¬
son of them all indicates a smaller protuberance, nearly
instead of their differences are too great to
leave much confidence in this method. But if this
figure be thought more probable, the precession will be
reduced to about ly" annually. But even though the
figure of the earth were accurately determined, we have
no authority to say that it is homogeneous. If it be
denser towards the centre, the momentum of the protu¬
berant matter will not be so great as if it were equally
dense with the inferior parts, and the precession will be
diminished on this account. Did we know the propor¬
tion of the matter in the moon to that in the sun, we
could 4
I jd
Theory of
Universal
Gravita*
tion.
419
ICfl’ect of
the moon’s
action on
the protu¬
berant mat¬
ter of the
earth.
ASTRO
could easily determine the proportion of the whole ob¬
served annual precession of 50-y" which is produced by
the sun’s action. But we have no unexceptionable data
for determining this j and we are rather obliged to in¬
fer it from the effect which she produces in disturbing
the regularity of the precession, as will be considered
immediately. So far, therefore, as we have yet pro¬
ceeded in this investigation, the result is very uncertain.
We have only ascertained unquestionably the law which
is observed in the solar precession. It is probable, how¬
ever, that this precession is not very different from 20"
annually j for the phenomena of the tides show the di¬
sturbing force of the sun to be very nearly of the di¬
sturbing force of the moon. Now 20" is -y- of §o".
But let us now proceed to consider the effect of the
moon’s action on the protuberant matter of the earth ;
and as we are ignorant of her quantity of matter, and
consequently of her influence in similar circumstances
with the sun, we shall suppose that the disturbing force
of the moon is to that of the sun as m to i. Then
(ccetems paribus') the precession will be to the solar pre¬
cession n in the ratio of the force and of the time of its
action jointly. Let t and T therefore represent a pe¬
riodical month and year, and the lunar precession will
mM .
be ^1,s precession must he reckoned on the
plane of the lunar orbit, in the same manner as the so¬
lar precession is reckoned on the ecliptic. We must
also observe, that represents the lunar precession
only on the supposition that the earth’s equator is in¬
clined to the lunar orbit in an angle of 23^ degrees.
This is indeed the mean inclination j but it is sometimes
increased to above 28°, and sometimes reduced to 180.
. Now in the value of the solar precession the cosine of
the obliquity was employed. Therefore whatever is
the angle E contained between the equator and the lu-
... . ... ( rnict Cos. E
nar orbit* the precession will be = -rrr— 7^ To>
I Cos. 23^
and it must he reckoned on the lunar orbit.
Now let T1 B (fig. 160.) be the immoveable plane of
the ecliptic, HP EDrCiF the equator in its first situation,
before it has been deranged by the action of the moon,
AGRDBH the equator in its new position, after the
momentary action of the moon. Let EGNFH be the
moon’s orbit, of which N is the ascending node, and
the angle Nrr5° 8' 46".
4*0
Lunar pre¬
cession in &
month re¬
duced to
the eclip¬
tic.
Let N ‘Y’ the long, of the node be - -
Sine N <y
Cosine N - - -
Sine T =23!- -
Cosine 'Y1 - - - -
Sine N=:5.8.46 -
Cosine N
Circumference to radius I,rr6,28
Force of the moon
Solar precession (supposed =14^-" by observa
tion) -
Revolution of ([ rriyd-^-
Revolution of © =366^
Revolution of N =18 years 7 months
In order to reduce the lunar precession to the eclip¬
tic, we must recollect that the equator will have the
tion,
N O M Y. Part IV.
same inclination at the end of every half revolution of Theory,,
the sun or of the moon, that is, when they pass through UnivetMi
the equator, because the sum of all the momentary Gravity
changes of its position begins again each revolution.
Therefore if we neglect the motion of the node during
one month, which is only degree, and can produce
but an insensible change, it is plain that the moon pro¬
duces, in one half revolution, that is* while she moves
from H to G, the greatest difierence that she can in the
position of the equator. The point D, therefore, half
way from G to H, is that in which the moveable equator
cuts the primitive equator, andDE andDF are each 90°.
But S being the solstitial point, T S is also 90°. There¬
fore DS—fy'E. Therefore, in the triangle DGE, we
have sin. ED : sin. G = sin. EG : sin. D, = EG : D.
Therefore D rr EG X sin. G, r= EG X sin. E nearly.
Again, in the triangle HP DA we have sin. A : sin. vp D
(or cos. fp E)=sin. D : sin. HP A, =: D : A. There-
r . D • Cos. •Y’E EG *Sin.E • Cos.on E
tore <T A:
mn-t Sin. E
T
Sin. A 5
Cos. E • Cos. ep E
Sin. 234-
Sin. tp • Cos. tp
This is the lunar precession produced in the course
of one month, estimated on the ecliptic, not constant
like the solar precession, but varying with the inclination
of the angle E or F, which varies both by a change in
the angle N, and also by a change in the position of N
on the ecliptic.
We must find in like manner the nutation SR pro-NiUatL
duced in the same time, reckoned on the colure of the the sarct
solstices RL. We have R : sin. DS=D : RS, and1™1®'
RS=D • sin. DS, =D • sin. <p E. But D=EG • sin. E.
Therefore RS=ED • sin. E • sin. <p E, =~. Cos- E
T • Cos. cp
X sin. E X sin. HP E. In this expression we must substi¬
tute the angleN, which maybe considered as constant du¬
ring the month, and the longitude‘Y'N, which is also near¬
ly constant, by observing that sin. E : sin. T'Nrrsin.N :
• 'TU c -DO m7r( Sin.N'Sin.TN'Cos.E
sin.ppE. ThereforeRSm-TTf- X >■ .
1 Cos. ‘V
But we must exterminate the angleE, because it changes
by the change of the position of N. Now, in the tri-
ahgle'V’EN we have cos. E=cos.HpN • sin. N • sin. ^—
cos. N • cos. HP, —yea—db. And because the angle E
is necessarily obtuse, the perpendicular will fall without
the triangle, the cosine of E will be negative, and we
shall have cos. Y.—bd—acy. Therefore the nutation
the node
being supposed all the while in N.
These two expressions of the monthly precession andma/be
ttutation may be considered as momentary parts of thecomidert!
moon’s action, corresponding to a certain position of theasmonie‘
node and inclination of the equator, or as the fluxions^hr*1
of the whole variable precession and nutation, while theraocm’sK
node continually changes its place, and in the space of tion.
18 years makes a complete tour of the heavens. ^
We must, therefore, take the motion of the nodes as the Preceii®
fluent of comparison, or we must compare the fluxions and n”1''
of the node’s motion with the fluxions of the precession tion,c0ir
and nutation ; therefore, let the longitude of the nodepare
be and its monthly change — vs; we shall then have
t:
e , mn-t cx(bd—
tor one month will be X—-—v
1 0
PI '
Ti P
li *
0
IV.
ASTRONOMY.
• ,722; nx
*al t ; n—x : <*, and i——, ——
,—==•. LetTbe=r,
in order that n may be 18,6, and substitute for t its
value iu the fluxion of the nutation, by putting \—x*
in place of y. By this substitution we obtain m tt n -^-y
e o
( * X.'—22ca:«ay The fluent of this is m * n—
W!—** J eb
^—dbsj I—a:2—'~~2~~y {Vide Simpson’s Fluxions,
§ 77.) But when x 13=0, the nutation must be =r n,
because it is from the position in the equinoctial points
that all our deviations are reckoned, and it is from this
point that the periods of the lunar action recommence.
But if we make x=o in this expression, the term
— a c*!. vanishes, and the term—db 1 —a?* becomes
=—db; therefore our fluent has a constant part-j-f/£ ;
and the complete fluent is mien ^-^db—dbyj 1—-x* —
(l C X* \ c
 ). Now this is equal to m urn ^ ( d b X versed
2 / eb
sine, %—J acX versed sine 22;) : For the versed sine
of ss is equal to (1—cos. 2;) ; and the square of the
sine of an arch is 4 the versed sine of twice that arch.
This, then, is the whole nutation while the moon’s
ascending node moves from the vernal equinox to the
longitude qp It is the expression of a certain
number of seconds, because one of its factors, is the
solar precession in seconds ; and all the other factors
are numbers, or fractions of the radius 1; even e is ex¬
pressed in terms of the radius 1.
The fluxion of the precession, or the monthly preces¬
sion, is to that of the nutation as the cotangent of E
is to the sine of qr. This also appears by considering
fig. 159. measures the angle A, or change of position
of the equator j but the precession itself, reckoned on the
ecliptic, is measured by Po, and the nutation by po; and
the fluxion of the precession is equal to the fluxion of
. cot. op E , a _ ad+bey ,
nutation X —; , but cot. qp E= — £ . there-
sine qp cx
fore co** E ad+hcsj 1—x*
sine *Y> cx
the fluxion of the nutation, gives
b abe \Jt~M ^
: This, multiplied into
a b da
 . .
{b*—au)dc—abc'.^i—xxj x for the monthly pre¬
cession. The fluent of this —^ d* £ z -}- {b* «*)
dex—^abe'z—lab&x*/ 1—x^j, 0r it is equal
m nr nf
t0 ~ab~e\ c*) ab* + {b'—a') d c z—£ a b c*
sine 2z^.
Let us now express this in numbers: When the node
J51
has made a half revolution, we have z—180°, whose Theory of
versed sine is 2, and the versed sine of 2 z, or 360°, is Universal
=0 j therefore, after half a revolution of the node,
mirnc , , T„ . , .
;— 2 b a. It, in this expres-
the nutation becomes
: 1 44":
we shall find
sion, we supposed 772=24, and it:
the nutation to be ipf".
Now the observed nutation is about 18". This re¬
quires 772 to be 2tIo-, and ir=z 164". But it is evident,
that no astronomer can pretend to w'arrant the accuracy
of his observations of the nutation within 1".
To find the lunar precession during half a revolution
and the
and the
2
-c*
m nr n
of the node, observe, that then z becomes r
sine of z and of 2z vanish, J2 becomes i-
precession becomes (J*—ic2),= (1—4-c*),
and the precession in 18 years \s m ic n i—\c%.
We see, by comparing the nutation and precession
learly
for nine years, that they are as ^ C ^ to 1—|
as x to I7f. This gives 313" of precession, correspond¬
ing to 18", the observed nutation, which is about 35"
of precession annually produced by the moon.
And thus we see that the inequality produced by Gives the
the moon in the precession of the equinoxes, and, morediltobing
particularly, the nutation occasioned by the variable ob-force and
liquity of her orbit, enables us to judge of her share inmatter of
the whole phenomenon ; and therefore informs us of her^ie moon*
disturbing force, and therefore of her quantity of mat¬
ter. This phenomenon, and those of the tides, are the
only facts which enable us to judge of this matter : and
this is one of the circumstances which has caused this
problem to occupy so much attention. Dr Bradley,
by a nice comparison of his observations with the ma¬
thematical theory, as it is called, furnished him by Mr
Machin, found that the equation of precession comput¬
ed by that theory was too great, and that the theory
would agree better with the observations, if an ellipse
were substituted for Mr Machin’s little circle. He
thought that the shorter axis of this ellipse, lying in the
colure of the solstices, should not exceed l6w. Nothing
can more clearly show the astonishing accuracy of
Bradley’s observations than this remark: for it results
fi om the theory, that the pole must really describe an
ellipse, having its shorter axis in the solstitial colure, and
the ratio of the axes must he that of 18 to 16,8 ; for
the mean precession during half a revolution of the
. . mienf ca\
node is— — ) } and therefore for the longi¬
tude z, it will be y when this is
taken from the true precession for that longitude, it
leaves the equation of precession ( ba a* j d c'
abe V
sine z—\abc sine 2z J ; therefore when the node is
in the solstice, and the equation greatest, we have it=
miened
~~a"i,e —a > We ,iere neglect the second term
as insignificant*
This.
I52
ASTRONOMY.
Part IV,
Theory of
Universal
Gravita¬
tion.
Greatest
equation of
precession.
. . . imrrncd
This greatest equation ot precession is to   ,
the nutation of 18", as 6*—to lab; that is, as ra¬
dius to the tangent of twice the obliquity of the eclip¬
tic. This gives the greatest equation of precession
16",8, not differing half a second from Bradley’s obser¬
vations.
Thus have we attempted to give some account of this
curious and important phenomenon. It is curious, be¬
cause it affects the whole celestial motions in a very in¬
tricate manner, and received no explanation from the
more obvious application of mechanical principles, which
so happily accounted for all the other appearances. It
is one of the most illustrious proofs of Sir Isaac New¬
ton’s sagacity and penetration, which catched at a very
remote analogy between this phenomenon and the li-
bration of the moon’s orbit.—It is highly important to
the progress of practical and useful astronomy, because
it has enabled us to compute tables of such accuracy,
that they can be used with confidence for determining
the longitude of a ship at sea. This alone fixes its im¬
portance : but it is still more important to the philoso¬
pher, affording the most incontestable proof of the uni¬
versal and mutual gravitation of all matter to all mat¬
ter. It left nothing in the solar system unexplained
from the theory of gravity but the acceleration of the
moon’s mean motion j and this has at last been added
to the list of our acquisitions by M. de la Place.
Qjice toties animos veterum torsere Sophorum,
Quceque scholasfrustra raaco certamine vexanl,
Obvia conspicimus, nube pellente Mathesi.
Ja?n dubios nulla caligine prcegravat error
Qaeis superum penetrare domos, atque ardua cedi
Scandere sublimis genii concessit acumen.
Idee fas est propius mortali attingere divos.
Halley.
Sect. X. Of the Libration of the Moon.
The only phenomena which still remain to be ex¬
plained are the libration of the moon and the motion
of the nodes of her equator. The moon, in conse¬
quence of her rotation round her axis, is a little flat¬
tened towards the poles-, but the attraction of the earth
must have lengthened the axis of the moon directed to¬
wards that planet. If the moon were homogeneous
and fluid, she would assume the form of an ellipsoid,
whose shorter axis would pass through her poles of ro¬
tation } the longer axis would be directed towards the
earth, and in the plane of the moon’s equator j and the
mean axis, situated in the same plane, would be per¬
pendicular to the two others. The excess of the
longer over the shorter would be quadruple the excess
of the mean axis over the shorter, and would amount
to about—-—, the shorter axis being represented by
29711
It is easy to see, that if the longer axis of the moon Theom:
deviate a little from the direction of the radius vector, Universs;
which joins together the centres or the earth and moon, Gravita,
the attraction of the earth will tend to bring it towards , tlon'
that radius just as gravity tends to bring a pendu- ^
lum towards the vertical position. If the rotation of
the satellite had been at first sufficiently rapid to over¬
come this tendency, the time of a rotation would not
have been equal to that of a revolution round the earth,
and their difference would have discovered to us suc¬
cessively all the points of the moon’s surface. But the
angular motions of rotation and revolution having
been at first but very little different, the force with
which the longer axis separated from the radius vec¬
tor was not sufficient to overcome the tendency toward
the radius vector occasioned by the attraction of the
earth. This last tendency, therefore, has rendered the
two motions rigidly equal. And, as a pendulum dri¬
ven from the vertical direction by a very small force
constantly returns to it, making small oscillations on
each side, in like manner the longer axis of the moon
ought to oscillate on each side of the radius vector of
her orbit. The libration of the moon then depends up¬
on the small difference which originally subsisted be¬
tween the angular motions of the moon’s rotation and •
revolution.
Thus we see, that the theory of gravitation explains
the equality which subsists between the mean rotation
and revolution of the moon. It is only necessary to
suppose, that the original difference between them was
small. In that case the attraction of the earth would
soon reduce them to a state of equality.
The singular coincidence of the nodes of the moon’s
equator, with those of its orbit, is also owing to the
attraction of the earth. This was first demonstrated
by La Grange. The planes of the equator and of the
orbit of the moon, and the plane which passes through
its centre, parallel to the ecliptic, have always nearly
the same intersection. The secular movements of the
ecliptic neither alter the coincidence of the nodes of
these three planes, nor their mean inclination, which
the attraction of the earth keeps always the same.
We have now examined all the phenomena of the
heavenly bodies, and have found that they are all ex¬
plicable on the theory of gravitation, and indeed neces¬
sary consequences of that theory. The exact coinci¬
dence of all the phenomena must be considered as a
complete demonstration of the truth of the theory ; and
indeed places it beyond the reach of every possible ob¬
jection. With respect to the nature of this force call¬
ed gravitation, nothing whatever is known, nor is it
likely that any thing ever will be known. The discus¬
sion being evidently above the reach of the human fa¬
culties, all the different theories which have been pub¬
lished, explaining it by ethers, &c. have only served to
show the weakness of human reason, when it attempts
to leave the plain path of experience, and indulge in
fancy and conjecture.
unity.
APPENDIX.
iiiendix.
ASTRONOMY.
)f Ci‘ ula-
in^lslip-
APPENDIX.
In tlie preceding article xve have endeavoured to
give as full a view as possible of astronomy j avoiding,
at the same time, the introduction of minute details up¬
on those subjects which are not essential, that the read¬
ers attention might not be distracted and diverted from
objects of primary importance. But for the sake of those
persons who may wish to indulge their taste for practical
astronomy, we have thought proper to subjoin an appen¬
dix ; in which we shall give, in the first place, the rules
for calculating eclipses, and in the second, a description
of the most important astronomical instruments.
I. Method of Calculating Eclipses.
The method of constructing tables for the calculation
of eclipses will be understood from the following obser¬
vations.
'Ihe motions of the sun and moon are observed to be
continually accelerated from the apogee to.the perigee,
aud as gradually retarded from the perigee to the apo¬
gee ; being slowest of all when the mean anomaly is no-
! thing, and swiftest of all when it is six signs.
When the luminary is in its apogee or perigee, its
place is the same as it would be if its motion were
equable in all parts of its orbit. The supposed equable
;| motions are called mean i the unequable are justly call¬
ed the true.
Hie mean place of the sun or moon is always for¬
warder than the true place, whilst the luminary is mov¬
ing from its apogee to its perigee: and the true
place is always forwarder than the mean, whilst the lu¬
minary is moving from its perigee to its apogee. In
the former case, the anomaly is always less than six
signs 5 and in the latter case, more.
It has been found, by a long series of observations,
| that the sun goes through the ecliptic, from the vernal
equinox to the same equinox again, in 365 days 5
hours 48 minutes 55 seconds ; from the first star of
Aries to the same star again, in 365 days 6 hours 9
minutes 24 seconds ; and from his apogee to the same
again, in 365 days 6 hours 14 minutes o seconds. 
Ihe first of these is called the solar year ; the second the
sidereal year; and the third the anomalistic year. So
that the solar year is 20 minutes 29 seconds shorter
I than the sidereal ; and the sidereal year is four minutes
36 seconds shorter than the anomalistic. Hence it ap-
pears, that.the equinoctial point, or intersection of the
I ecliptic and equator at the beginning of Aries, goes
f backward with respect to the fixed stars, and that the
l| sun’s apogee goes forward.
It is also observed, that the moon goes through her
I orbit from any given fixed star to the same star again,
i 27 days 7 hours 43 minutes 4 seconds at a mean rate ;
s from her apogee to her apogee again, in 27 days 13
hours 18 minutes 43 seconds; and from the sun to the
sun again, in 29 days 12 hours 44 minutes 3XL- seconds.
Ibis shows that the moon’s apogee moves forward in
the ecliptic, and that at a much quicker rate than the
!: sun’s apogee does: since the moon is 5 hours .55 mi¬
nutes 39 seconds longer in revolving from her apogee
to her apogee again, than from any star to the same
star again.
The moon’s orbit crosses the ecliptic in two oimo-
Vol. III. Part I. 11 4
site points, which are called her nodes: and it is ob¬
served, that she revolves sooner from any node to the
node again, than from any star to the star again, by 2
hours 38 minutes 22 seconds; which shows that her
nodes move backward, or contrary to the order of signs
in the ecliptic.
The time in which the moon revolves from the sun
to the sun again (or from change to change) is called
a lunation; which, according to X)r Pound’s mean
measures, would always consist of 29 days 12 hours
44 minutes 3 seconds 2 thirds 38 fourths, if the mo¬
tions of the sun and moon were always equable. Hence
12 mean lunations contain 354 days 8 hours 48 mi¬
nutes 36 seconds 35 thirds 40 fourths, which is 10 days
21 hours 11 minutes 23 seconds 24 thirds 20 fourths
less than the length of a common Julian year, consist-
ing of 363 days 6 hours ; and 13 mean lunations con-
tain 383 days 21 hours 32 minutes 39 seconds 38
thirds 38 fourths, which exceeds the length of a com¬
mon Julian year, by 18 days 13 hours 32 minutes 39
seconds 38 thirds 38 fourths.
. The mean time of a new moon being found for any
given year and month, as suppose for March 1700
old style, if this mean new moon falls later than the
nth day of March, then 12 mean lunations added
to the time of tins mean new moon will give the time
of the mean newr moon in March 1701, after having
thrown 011363 days. But when the mean new moon
happens to be. before the nth of March, we must add
13 mean lunations, in order to have the time of mean
new moon in March the year following; always taking
care to subtract 363 days in common years, and 366
days in leap years, from the sum of this addition.
I bus, A. I). 1700, old style, the time of mean
new moon in March was the 8th day, at 16 hours 11
minutes 23 seconds after the noon of that day (viz. at
11 minutes 23 seconds past four in the morning of the
9th day), according to common reckoning. To this
wre must add 13 mean lunations, or 383 days 21 hours
32 minutes 39 seconds 38 thirds 38 fourths, and the
sum will be 392 days 13 hours 44 minutes 4 seconds
38 thirds 38 fourths : from which subtract 363 days,
because the year 1701 is a common year, and there will
remain 27 days 13 hours 44 minutes 4 seconds 38
thirds 38 fourths for the time of mean new moon in
March, A. D. 1701.
Carrying on this addition and subtraction till A. D.
I73>3> we bnd the time of mean new moon in March
that year.to be on the 6th day, at 7 hours 21 minutes,
1 7 seconds 49 thirds 46 fourths past noon ; to which add
13 mean lunations, and the sum will be 390 days 4
hours 33 minutes 37 seconds 28 thirds 20 fourths ; from
which subtract 366 days, because the year 1704 is a
leap-year, and there will remain 24 days 4 hours 33
minutes 37 seconds 28 thirds 20 fourths, for the time
of mean new moon in March A. X). 1704.
In this manner w'as the first of the following tables
constructed to seconds, thirds, and fourths; and then
wrote out to the nearest seconds. The reason why we
chose to begin the year with March, was to avoid - the
inconvenience of adding a day to the tabular time in
leap-years after February, or subtracting a day there-
from
154 ASTRO
Of Calcula- from in January and February in those years ; to which
ting h'clipfc all tables of this kind are subject, which begin the year
»es,&c. wJth January, in calculating the times of new or full
v moons.
The mean anomalies of the sun and moon, and the
sun’s mean motion from the ascending node of the
moon’s orbit, are set down in Table III. from I to 13
mean lunations. These numbers, for 13 lunations, be¬
ing added to the radical anomalies of the sun and
moon, and to the sun’s mean distance from the ascend¬
ing node, at the time of mean new moon in March
1700 (Table I.) will give their mean anomalies, and
the sun’s mean distance from the node, at the time of
mean new moon in March 1701 J and being added for
12 lunations to those for 1701, give them for the time
of mean new moon in March 1702. And so on as far
as you please to continue the table (which is here car¬
ried on to the year 1800), always throwing off 12
signs when their sum exceeds 12, and setting down the
remainder as the proper quantity.
If the number belonging to A. D. 17CO (in Table I.)
be subtracted from those belonging to 1800, we shall
have their whole differences in 100 complete Julian
years •, which accordingly we find to be 4 days 8 hours
10 minutes 52 seconds 15 thirds 40 fourths, with re¬
spect to the time of mean new moon. These being ad¬
ded together 60 times (always taking care to throw off
a whole lunation when the days exceed 29^) make up
60 centuries or 6000 years, as in Table VI. which
was carried on to seconds, thirds, and fourths : and
then wrote out to the nearest seconds. In the same
manner were the respective anomalies and the sun’s
distance from the node found, for these centurial years j
and then (for want of room) wrote out only to the
nearest minutes, which is sufficient in whole centuries.
By means of these two tables, we may find the time of
any mean new moon in March, together with the ano¬
malies of the sun and moon, and the sun’s distance from
the node at these times, within the limits of 6000 years
either before or after any given year in the 18th cen¬
tury ; and the mean time of any new or full moon in
any given month after March, by means of the third
and fourth tables, within the same limits, as shown in
the precepts for calculation.
Thus it would be a very easy matter to calculate the
time of any new or full moon, if the sun and moon
moved equably in all parts of their orbits. But we
have already shown, that their places are never the same
as they would be by equable motions, except when
they are in apogee or perigee ; which is when their
mean anomalies are either nothing or six signs : and
that their mean places are always forwarder than their
true places, whilst the anomaly is less than six signs ;
and their true places are forwarder than the mean,
whilst the anomaly is more.
Hence it is evident, that whilst the sun’s anomaly is
less than six signs, the muon will overtake him, or be
opposite to him, sooner than she could if his motion
were equable j and later whilst his anomaly is more
than six signs. The greatest difference that can pos¬
sibly happen between the mean and true time of new
or full moon, on account of the inequality of the sun’s
motion, is 3 hours 48 minutes 28 seconds : and that
is, when the sun’s anomaly is either 3 signs 1 degree,
or 8 signs 29 degrees ; sooner in the first case, and
later in the last.—In all other signs and degrees of
N O M Y. Appent
anomaly, the difference is gradually less, and vanishes of Cal
when the anomaly is either nothing or six signs. ting E
The sun is in his apogee on the 3Cth of June, and in ses’ ^
his perigee on the 30th of December, in the present
age : so that he is nearer the earth in our winter than
in our summer.—The proportional difference of di¬
stance, deduced from the difference of the sun’s appa¬
rent diameter at these times, is as 983 to 1017.
The moon’s orbit is dilated in winter, and contract¬
ed in summer j therefore the lunations are longer in
winter than in summer. The greatest difterence is
found to be 22 minutes 29 seconds j the lunations in¬
creasing gradually in length whilst the sun is moving
from his apogee to his perigee, and decreasing in length
whilst he is moving from his perigee to his apogee.—On
this account the moon will be later every time in co¬
ming to her conjunction with the sun, or being in op¬
position to him, from December till June, and sooner
from June till December, than if her orbit had conti¬
nued of the same size all the year round.
As both these differences depend on the sun’s ano¬
maly, they may be fitly put together into one table,
and called The annual or first equation of the mean to
the true sy%igy, (See Table VII.). This equational dif¬
ference is to be subtracted from the time of the mean
syzigy when the sun’s anomaly is less than six signs,
and added when the anomaly is more.—At the greatest
it is 4 hours 10 minutes 57 seconds, viz. 3 hours 48
minutes 28 seconds, on account of the sun’s unequal
motion, and 22 minutes 29 seconds, on account of the
dilatation of the moon’s orbit.
This compound equation would be sufficient for re¬
ducing the mean time of new or full moon to the true
time thereof, if the moon's orbit were of a circular
form, and her motion quite equable in it. But the
moon’s orbit is more elliptical than the sun’s, and her
motion in it is so much the more unequal. The diffe¬
rence is so great, that she is sometimes in conjunction
with the sun, or in opposition to him, sooner by 9 hours
47 minutes 54 seconds, than she would be if her mo¬
tion were equable j and at other times as much later.
The former happens when her mean anomaly is 9 signs
4 degrees, and the latter when it is 2 signs 26 de¬
grees. See Table IX.
At difl’erent distances of the sun from the moon’s
apogee, the figure of the moon’s orbit becomes diffe¬
rent. It is longest of all, or most eccentric, when the
sun is in the same sign and degree either with the moon’s
apogee or perigee j shortest of all, or least eccentric,
when the sun’s distance from the moon’s apogee is ei¬
ther three signs or nine signs ; and at a mean state
when the distance is either 1 sign 15 degrees, 4 signs
15 degrees, 7 signs 15 degrees, or 10 signs 15 degrees.
When the moon’s orbit is at its greatest eccentricity,
her apogeal distance from the earth’s centre is to her
perigeal distance therefrom, as 1067 ’s 933 5 wlien
least eccentric, as 1043 is to 957 ; and when at the
mean state, as 1055 is to 943.
But the sun’s distance from the moon’s apogee is
equal to the quantity of the moon’s mean anomaly at
the time of new moon, and by the addition of 6 signs
it becomes equal in quantity to the moon’s mean ano¬
maly at the time of full moon. Therefore, a table
may be constructed so as to answer to all the various
inequalities depending on the different eccentricities of
the moon’s orbit, in the syzigies, and called The se¬
cond
t es.
ippendk. A S
]cu,{u cond equation of the mean to the true syxigy.
t / Eclip- ble lA.) : and the moon’s anomaly, when equated by
s, Sec. Table VIII. may be made the proper argument for
taking out this second equation of time ; which must
be added to the former equated time, when the moon’s
anomaly is less than six signs, and subtracted when the
anomaly is more.
There are several other inequalities in the moon’s
motion, which sometimes bring on the true syzigy a
little sooner, and at other times keep it back a little
later, than it would otherwise be; but they are so small,
that they may be all omitted except two; the former
of which (see Table X.) depends on the difference be¬
tween the anomalies of the sun and moon in the syzi-
gies, and the latter (see Table XL) depends on the sun’s
distance from the moon’s nodes at these times. The
greatest difference arising from the former is 4 minutes
58 seconds $ and from the latter, I minute 34 seconds.
The tables here inserted being calculated by Mr
Ferguson according to the methods already given, he
gives the following directions for their use.
To calculate the True Time of New or Full Moon,
I Actions PRECEPT I. If the required time be within the li-
\ ;he use mits of the 18th century, write out the mean time of
P hose new moon in March, for the proposed year, from Table
I. in the old style, or from Table II. in the new $ to¬
gether with the mean anomalies of the sun and moon,
and the sun’s mean distance from the moon’s ascending
node. If you want the time of full moon in March,
add the half lunation at the foot of Table III. with
its anomalies, &c. to the former numbers, if the new
moon falls before the 15th of March; but if it falls af¬
ter, subtract the half lunation, with the anomalies, &c.
belonging to it, from the former numbers, and write
down the respective sums or remainders.
II. In these additions or subtractions, observe, that
60 seconds make a minute, 60 minutes make a degree,
30 degrees make a sign, and 12 signs make a circle.
When you exceed 12 signs in addition, reject 12, and
set down the remainder. When the number of signs
to be subtracted is greater than the number you sub¬
tract from, add 12 signs to the lesser number, and then
you will have a remainder to set down. In the tables
signs are marked thus8, degrees thus0, minutes thus',
and seconds thus".
III. When the required new or full moon is in any
given month after March, write out as many lunations
with their anomalies, and the sun’s distance from the
node from Table III. as the given month is after March,
setting them in order below the number taken out for
March.
IV. Add all these together, and they will give the
mean time of the required new or full moon, with the
mean anomalies and sun’s mean distance from the
ascending node, which are the arguments for finding
the proper equations.
"V. With the number of days added together, enter
Table IV. under the given month ; and against that
number you have the day of mean new or full moon
in the left-hand column, which set before the hours,
minutes, and seconds, already found.
But (as it will sometimes happen) if the said num¬
ber of days fall short of any in the column under the
given month, add one lunation and its anomalies, &c.
(from Table III.) to the foresaid sums, and then you
T R O N O M Y. '' 155
(SeeTa- will have a new sum of days wherewith to enter of Calcula-
under the given month, where you are sure ting t'.ciip.
Table IV.
to find it the second time, if the first falls short.
VI. W7ith the signs and degrees of the sun’s ano¬
maly, enter Table VII. and therewith take out the
annual or first equation for reducing the mean syzigy
to the true $ taking care to make proportions in the
table for the odd minutes and seconds of anomaly, as
the table gives the equation only to whole degrees.
Observe, in this and every other case of finding equa¬
tions, that if the signs are at the head of the table,
their degrees are at the left hand, and are reckoned
downwards 5 but if the signs are at the foot of the table,
their degrees are at the right hand, and are counted
upward j the equation being in the body of the table,
under or over the signs, in a collateral line with the
degrees. The titles Add or Subtract at the head or
foot of the tables where the signs are found, show whe¬
ther the equation is to be added to the mean time of
new or full moon, or to be subtracted from it. In this
table, the equation is to be subtracted, if the signs of
the sun’s anomaly are found at the head of the table ;
but it is to be added, if the signs are at the foot.
VII. With the signs and degrees of the sun’s mean
anomaly, enter Table VIII. and take out the equation
of the moon’s mean anomaly $ subtract this equation
from her mean anomaly, if the signs of the sun’s anoma¬
ly be at the head of the table, but add it if they are at
the foot ; the result will be the moon’s equated ano¬
maly, with which enter Table IX. and take out the
second equation for reducing the mean to the true time
of new or full moon j adding this equation, if the signs
of the moon’s anomaly are at the head of the table,
but subtracting it if they are at the foot $ and the re¬
sult will give you the mean time of the required new
or full moon twice equated, which will be sufficiently
near for common almanacs.—But when you want to
calculate an eclipse, the following equations must be
used : thus,
VIII. Subtract the moon’s equated anomaly from
the sun’s mean anomaly, and with the remainder in
signs and degrees enter Table X. and take out the
third equation, applying it to the former equated time,
as the titles Add or Subtract do direct.
IX. With the sun’s mean distance from the ascend¬
ing node enter Table XI. and take out the equation
answering to that argument, adding it to, or subtract¬
ing it from, the former equated time, as the titles di¬
rect, and the result will give the time of new or full
moon, agreeing with well regulated clocks or watches
very near the truth. But to make it agree with the
solar or apparent time, you must apply the equation
of natural days, taken from an equation-table, as it is
leap-year, or the first, second, or third after. This,
however, unless in very nice calculations, needs not be
regarded, as the difference between true and apparent
time is never very considerable.
The method of calculating the time of any new or
full moon without the limits of the 18th century will
be shown further on. Anti a few examples compared
with the precepts will make the whole work plain.
N. B. The tables begin the day at noon, and reckon
forward from thence to the noon following.—-Thus,
March the 31st, at 22 h. 30 m. 25 sec. of tabular time
is April 1st (in common reckoning) at 30 m. 25 sec.
after 10 o’clock in the morning.
U 2
ses, 6ce.
EXAMPLE
156
Of Calcnlar
ting Eclip¬
ses, &c.
ASTRONOMY.
EXAMPLE I.
Required the true'time of New Moon in April 1764, New Style ?
Appendix
.by the tTecepts.
March 1764,
Add x Lunation,
Mean New Moon,
First Equation,
Time once equated,
Second Equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth Equation,
True New Moon,
Equation of days,
Apparent time.
JSew Moon.
D. H. M. S.
2 8 55 36
29 12 44 3
31 21 39 39
+ 4 10 40
32 1 50 19
— 3 24 49
31 22 25p
+ 4 37
31 22 30 7
-f- 18
31 22 30 25
~ 3 48
31 22 26 37
Sun’s Anomaly,
8 2 2C O
o 29 6 19
9 1 26 19
11 10 59 18
9 20 27 1
Are;. 3d equation.
Moon’s Anomaly.
a O IV
io 13 35 21
o 25 49 o
11
+
9 24 21
1 34 57
11 10 59 18
Arg. 2d equation.
Sun from Node.
II 4 54 48
i o 40 14
5 35
Sun from Node,
and Arg. 4th e-
quation.
So the true time is 22 h. 30 min. 25 sec. after the noon
of the 31st March ; that is, April 1st, at 30 min. 25 sec.
after ten in the morning. But the apparent time is 26
min. 37 sec. after ten in the morning.
EXAMPLE II.
Qu. The true time of Full Moon in May 1762, New Style ?
by the brecepts.
March 1762,
Add 2 lunations,
New Moon, May,
Subt. Lunation,
Full Moon, May,
First Equation,
Time once equated,
Second Equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth Equation,
The Full Moon,
New Moon.
D. H. M. S.
24 15 18 24
59 1 28 6
22 16 46 30
14 18 22 2
7 22 24 28
+ 3 36
8 1 41 4
— 9 47 53.
7 15 53 11
— 2 36
7 15 50 35
~r 15
71550 50
Sun’s Anomaly.
Moon’s Anomaly.
8 23 48 16
I 28 12 39
I 23 59 II
I 21 38 I
10 22 O 55
o 14 33 IQ
IO
7 27 45
3 57 18
1 3 30 27
Arg. 3d equation.
3 15 37 12
6 12 54 30
9 2 42 42
+ I 14 36
9 3 57 .18
Arg. 2d equation.
Sun from Node.
IO 18 49 14
2 I 20 28
O 20
0 15
9 42
20 7
4 49 35
Sun from Node,
and Arg. 4th e-
q nation.
Ans. May 7th at 15 h. 50 min. 50 sec. past noon, viz.
May 8th at 3 h. 50 sec. in the morning.
Of Calculi!
ting tlclip,
scs, &Ci
P
lies, &e. belonging to the said centuries, and set them
below those taken out for March in the 18th century.
III. Subtract the numbers belonging to these centu¬
ries from those of the 18th century, and the remainders
will be the mean time and anomalies, &c. of new moon
To calculate the time of New and Fidl Moon in a o-iven
year and month of any particular century bet ween
the Christian era and the 1 %th century.
Precept I. Find a year of the same number in the
18th century with that of the year in the century pro- in March, in the given year of the'cen7u~ry"proposed"—
posed, and take out the mean time of new moon in Then, work in all respects for the true time of new or
March, old style, for that year, with the mean ano- ■
malies and sun’s mean distance from the node at that
time, as already taught.
II. Take as many complete centuries of years from
Table VI. as, when subtracted from the above-said year
in the 18th century, rvill answer to the given year j
and take out the first mean new moon and its anoma-
2
/   ~ Clue liiuc; Ul UCYT VL
lull moon, as shown in the above precepts and examples.
IV • If the days annexed to these centuries exceed the
number of days from the beginning of March taken out
in the 18th century, add a lunation and its anomalies,
&c. from I able III. to the time and anomalies of new
moon in March, and then proceed in all respects as
above. I his circumstance happens in Example V.
EXAMPLE
Wpendix.
f ( cula-
iglcHp-
S'gS-.-.C.
ASTRONOMY.
EXAMPLE III.
Required the trice time of Full Moon in April, Old Style, A. D. 30 ?
From 1730 substract 1700 (or 17 centuries) and there remains 30.
157
Of Calcula¬
ting Eclip¬
ses, &c.
By the Precepts.
March 1730,
Add ^ Lunation.
Full Moon,
1700 years suhtr.
Full 5 March A. D. 30.
Add 1 Lunation,
Full Moon, April
First Equation,
Time once equated,
Second Equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth Equation,
True Full Moon, April,
New Moon.
D. H. M.
7 12 34 l6
14 l8 22 2
22 6 56 l8
14 17 36 42
7 13 19 36
29 12 44 3
6 2 3 39
-f- 3 28 4
6 5 31 43
*f 2 57 48
6 8 29 31
— 2 54
8 26 37
- 1 33
8 25 4
Sun’s Anomaly.
8 18 4 31
o 14 33 10
9 2 37 41
I X 28 46 o
9 3 51 4i
o 29 6 19
10 2 58 o
5 10 58 4°
Moon’s Anomaly.
9 o 32 17
6 12 54 30
3 13 26 47
10 29 36 o
4 J3 5° 47
o 25 49 o
5
+
9 39 47
1 18 53
4 21 59 20
Arg. 3d equation.
4 10 58 _ 40
Arg. 2d equation.
Sun from Node.
I 23 17 l6
O 15 20 7
2 8 37 23
4 29 23 O
9 I4 23
o 40 14
10 9 54 37
Sun from Node,
and Arg. fourth
equation.
Hence it appears, that the true time of Full Moon in
April A. D. 30, old style, was on the 6th day, at 25 no,
4 s. past eight in the evening.
To Calculate the true time of New or Full Moon in any
given year and month before the Christian era.
Precept I. Find a year in the 18th century, which
being added to the given number of years before Christ
diminished by one, shall make a number of complete
centuries.
II. Find this number of centuries in Table VI. and
subtract the time and anomalies belonging to it from
those of the mean new moon in March, the above found
year of the 18th century ; and the remainder will de¬
note the time and anomalies, &c. of mean new moon
in March, the given year before Christ.—Then, for the
true time thereof in any month of that year, proceed as
above taught.
EXAMPLE IV.
Required the true time of New Moon in May, Old Style, the year before Christ 385 ?
The years 584 added to 1716, make 2300, or 23 centuries.
By the Precepts.
March 1716,
2300 years subtract,
March before Christ 585,
Add 3 Lunations,
May before Christ 585,
First Equation,
Time once equated,
Second equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth equation.
True New Moon,
New Moon,
D. II. M. S.
II 17 33 29
11 5 57 53
0 n 35 36
88 14 12 9
28 1 47 45
— 1 37
28
+
1 46
2 15
28
4
+
28
2 18
+ 12
28
3°
Sun’s Anomaly.
8 22 50 39
ii 19 47 o
9 3 3 39
2 27 18 58
o o 22 37
5 15 41 11
6 14 41 20
Arg. 3d. equation.
Moon’s Anomaly.
4 I4
5 59
2 28 15 2
2 17 27 1
5 *5 42 3
— 46
5 J9 41 f7
Arg. 2d equation.
Sun from Node.
4 27 17 5
7 25 27 o
1 50 5
2042
2 3 5° 47
Sun from Node,
and Arg. fourth
equation.
So the true time was May 28th, at 2 minutes 30 seconds
past four in the afternoon.
These Tables are calculated for the meridian of Lo-
don ; but they will serve for any other place, by sub¬
tracting four minutes from the tabular time, for every
degree that the meridian of the given place is westward
of London, or adding four minutes for every degree
that the meridian of the given place is eastward : as in
EXAMPLE
153
Of Calcula¬
ting Eclip¬
ses, See.
ASTRONOMY.
EXAMPLE V.
Required the true time of Full Moon at Alexandria in Egypt in September, Old Style, the year before Christ
The years 200 added to 1800, make 2000 or 20 centuries.
By the Precepts
March 1800,
Add 1 Lunation,
From the sum,
Subtract 2000 years,
N. M. bef. Chr. 201,
.11^6 Lunations,
t \ half Lunations,
Full moon, September,
First Equation,
Time once equated,
Second Equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth Equation,
True time at London,
Add for Alexandria,
True time there,
xNew Moon.
D. H. M. S.
13 o 22 17
29 12 44 3
42 13 6 20
27 18 9 19
44 18 57 1
177 4 24 18
14 18 22 2
22 17 43 21
— 3 52 6
22 13 51 15
— 8 25 4
22 5 26 11
- 58
22 5 25 13
— 12
22
5 25 1
2 1 27
22
7 26 28
Sun’s Anomaly.
8 23 I9 55
o 29 6 19
9 22 26 14
o 8 50 o
o 13 36 14
5 24 37 56
o 14 33 10
3 22 47 20
10 4 19 55
5 18 27 25
Arg. 3d equation.
Moon’s Anomal).
IO 7 52 36
0 25 48 o
II 3 41 36
o 15 42 o
10 17 59 36
5 4 54 3
6 12 54 30
10 5 48 9
— 1 28 14
10 4 19 55
Arg. 2d equation.
Sun from Node.
II 3 58 24
i o 40 14
o 4 38 38
6 27 45 o
5 6 53 38
6 4 1 24
o 15 20 7
11 26 15 9
Sun from Node,
and Argument 4th
equation.
Thus it appears, that the true time of Full Moon, at
Alexandria, in September, old style, the year before Christ
201, was the 22d day, at 26 minutes 28 seconds after seven
in the evening.
EXAMPLE VI.
Required the true time of Full Moon at Babylon in October, Old Style, the year 4008 before the first year of
Christ, or 4007 before the year of his birth?
The years 4007 added to 1793, make 5800, or 58 centuries.
By the Precepts.
March 1793,
Subtract 5800 years,
N. M. bef. Chr. 4007,
4 jj y? Lunations,
\ half Lunations,
Full Moon, October,
First Equation,
Time once equated,
Second Equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth Equation,
Full Moon at London,
Add for Babylon,
True time there,
New Moon.
D. H. M. S.
30 9 J3 55
15 12 38 7
14 20 35 48
206 17 8 21
14 18 22 2
22
8 6 11
— 13 26
22 7 52 45
+ 8 29 21
22 16
22
4
6
10
22 16
J7 56
— 51
Sun’s Anomaly.
9 10 16
10 21 35
11
o
10 18 41 11
6 23 44 15
o 14 33 10
5 26 58 36
1 26 27 26
4 o 31 10
Arg. 3d equation.
Moon’s Anomaly.
8 7 37 58
6 24 43 o
1 12 54 58
6 0 43 3
6 12 54 30
1 26 32 31
— 5 5
1 26 27 26
Arg. 2d equation.
bun from Node.
7 6 18 26
9 13 1 o
9 23 17 26
7 4 41 38
o 15 20 7
5 r3 J9 11
Sun from Node,
and Argument 4th
equation.
22 16 17 5
2 25 41
22 18 42 46
So that, on the meridian of London, the true time was
October 23d, at 17 minutes 5 seconds past four in the
morning j but at Babylon, the true time was October 23d,
at 42 minutes 46 seconds past six in the morning.—This is
supposed by some to have been the year of the creation.
To
mmmmm
^)pendix.
ASTRONOMY.
tiniEclip-
Ib, &C.
 '
•( alcula- To calculate the true time of New or Full Moon in any
given year and month after the I ^ih century.
Precept I. Find a year of the same number in the
18th century with that of the year proposed, and take
out the mean time and anomalies, &c. of new moon in
March, old style, for that year, in Table I.
II. Take so many years from Table VI. as when
added to the above-mentioned year in the 18th century
159
will answer to the given year in which the new or full Qf Calcula.
moon is required j and take out the first new moon, ting Edip.
with its anomalies for these complete centuries. ses>
III. Add all these together, and then work in all
respects as above shown, only remember to subtract a
lunation and its anomalies, when the above-said addition
carries the new moon beyond the 31st of March ; as
in the following example.
EXAMPLE VII.
Required the true time of New Moon in July, Old Style, A. D. 2180 ?
Four centuries or (400 years) added to A. D. 1780, make 2100.
By the Precepts.
March 1780,
Add 400 years,
From the sum
Subtract 1 Lunation
New Moon March 2180,
Add 4 Lunations,
New Moon July 2180,
First Equation,
Time one equated,
Second Equation,
Time twice equated,
Third Equation,
Time thrice equated,
Fourth Equation,
True time, July,
New Moon.
D. H. M. S.
23 23
17 8
1 34
43 29
41 7
29 12
45 l3
44 3
11 19
118 2
1 10
56 12
21
1
57 22
3 39
7 20
+ 9
53 43
24 8
8 6
+
J7 51
3 56
8 6
+
21 47
1 8
8 6 22 55
Sun’s Anomaly.
9 4 18 *3
o 13 24 o
9 17 42 13
o 29 6 19
8 18 35 54
3 26 25 17
o 15 1 11
3 9 38 37
10
5 22 34
Arg. 3d equation.
Moon’s Anomaly.
1 21 7 47
IO I 28 C
11 22 35 47
o 25 49 O
IO 26 46 47
3 13 i6 2
10
2 49
24 12
2 9 38 .37
Arg. 2d equation.
Sun from Node.
IO 18 21 I
6 17 49 O
6 10
o 40 14
4 5 29 47
4 2 4° 56
8 8 16 43
Sun fromNode and
Argument fourth
equation.
True time, July 8th, at 22 minutes 55 seconds
past six in the evening.
In keeping by the old style, we are always sure to
be right, by adding or subtracting whole hundreds of
years to or from any given year in the 18th century.
But in the new style we may be very apt to make mis¬
takes, on account of the leap year’s not coming in re¬
gularly every fourth year : and therefore, when we go
without the limits of the 18th century, we had be*t
keep to the old style, and at the end of the calculation
reduce the time to the new. Thus, in the 2id century
there will be fourteen days ddlerence between the styles ;
and therefore the true time of new moon in this last
example being reduced to the new style will be the
22d of July, at 22 minutes 55 seconds past six in the
evening.
To calculate the true place of the Sun for any given mo*
ment of time.
Precept I. In 1 able XII. find the next lesser year
in number to that in which the sun’s place is sought,
and write out his mean longitude and anomaly an¬
swering thereto : to which add his mean motion and
anomaly for the complete residue of years, months,
days, hours, minutes, and seconds, down to the given
time, and this will be the sun’s mean place and ano¬
maly at that time, in the old style, provided the said
time be in any year after the Christian era. See the
first following example.
II. Enter Table XIII. with the sun’s mean anoma¬
ly, and making proportions for the odd minutes and se¬
conds thereof, take out the equation of the sun’s centre:
which, being applied to his mean place as the title Add
or Subtract directs, will give his true place or longitude
from the vernal equinox, at the time for which it was
required.
III. To calculate the sun’s place for any time in a
given year before the Christian era, take out his mean
longitude and anomaly for the first year thereof, and
from these numbers subtract the mean motions and ano¬
malies for the complete hundreds or thousands next
above the given year; and to the remainders, add those
for the residue of years, months, &c. and then work in
all respects as above. See the second example following.
EXAMPLE,
ASTRONOMY.
160
Appenu
Calcula¬
ting Eclip¬
ses, See.
EXAMPLE I.
Of Ci)
lip
Required the Sun's true place, March 10th, Old Style, 1764, at 22 hours 30 minutes 25 seconds past Noon ?
In common reckoning, March 21 st, at 10 hours 30 minutes in the Forenoon.
ses,
To the radical year after Christ
Add complete years
{
1701
60
3
March
Bissextile Days
Honrs
Minutes
Seconds
20
22
30
25
Sun’s mean place at the given time
Equation of the Sun’s centre, add
Sun’s true place at the same time
Sun’s Longitude.
9
o
11
1
20 43
o
50
29
28
27 12
17 O
9 II
20 41 55
54 J3
1 14
o 10 14 36
1 55 3^
Sun’s Anomaly.
6 13 1
11 29 26
11 29 14
I 28 Q
C
o
o
o
20 41 55
54 13
1
14
1
9 1 27 23
Mean Anomaly.
o 12 10 12 or 'Y1 12 10 12
4
EXAMPLE II.
Required the Sun's true place, Oct. 23c?, Old Style, at 16 hours 57 minutes past Noon, in the 4008^ year
before the year of Christ 1; which was the 4007^ before the year of his birth, and the year of the Julian
period 706.
By the Precepts.
From the radical numbers after Christ
Subtract those for 5000 complete years
Bemains for a new radix
To which add,
to bring it to <
the given time
complete years
{900
80 ,
T 2
October
Days 23
Hours 16
Minutes 57
Sun’s mean place at the given time
Equation of the Sun’s centre subtract
Sun’s true place at the same time
Sun’s Longitude.
s o
7 53 10
7 46 40
6
48
3°
o
36 16
8 29
26
54
22 40 12
39 26
2
20
Sun’s Anomaly.
6 28 48
10 13 25
8
11
11
11
J5 23
21 37
29 J5
29 53
8 29 4
22 40 12
39 26
2 20
5 28 33 58
Sun’s Anomaly.
o or =0= o
So that in the meridian of London, the sun was then
just entering the sign ^ Libra, and consequently was
upon the point of the autumnal equinox.
If to the above time of the autumnal equinox at
London, we add 2 h. 25 m. 41 sec. for the longitude
of Babylon, we shall have for the time of the same
equinox, at that place, October 23d, at 19 h. 22 m.
41 sec. ; which, in the common way of reckoning, is
October 24th, at 22 m. 41 sec. past seven in the morn-
the day of full moon.—The dominical letter for that
year was G, and consequently the 24th of October was
on a Wednesday.
To find the Sun's distance from the Moon's ascending
node, at the time of any given new or full moon : and
consequently, to know whether there is an eclipse at
that time or not.
mg
And it appears by Example VI. that in the same
year the true time of full moon at Babylon was Octo¬
ber 23d, at 42 m. 46 sec. after six in the morning ; so
that the autumnal equinox was on the day next after
The sun’s distance from the moon’s ascending node
is the argument for finding the moon’s fourth equation
in the syzigies; and, therefore, it is taken into all the
foregoing examples in finding the times thereof. Thus,
at the time of mean new moon in April 1764, the sun’s
mean
t: ippendix. A S T R
^‘OCalcula-meiin distance from the ascending node is o* 50 35' 2".
"St* Eclip- See Example I. ,
^ s, Sec. The clescending node is opposite to the ascending one,
(.-y—and they are just six signs distant from each other.
When the sun is within 17 degrees of either of the
nodes at the time of new moon, he will be eclipsed at
that time ; and when he is within 12 degrees of either
of the nodes at the time of full moon, the moon will be
then eclipsed. Thus we find, that there will be an e-
clipse of the sun at the time of new moon in April 1764.
But the true time of that new moon comes out by
the equations to be 50 minutes 46 seconds later than
the mean time thereof, by comparing these times in the
above example : and therefore we must add the sun’s
motion from the node during that interval to the above
mean distance os 5® 35' 2", which motion is found in
Table XII. for 50 minutes 46 seconds, to be 2' 12".
And to this we must apply the equation of the sun’s
mean distance from the node in Table XV. found by
the sun’s anomaly, which, at the mean time of new
moon in Example I. is 9s i° 26' 19" 5 and then we
shall have the sun’s true distance from the node, at the
true time of new moon, as follows:
O N O M Y.
161
Sun from Node.
At the mean time of new moon in
April 1764
Sun’s motion from the T 50 minutes
node for (_ 46 seconds
}
s
35
2
10
2
Sun’s mean distance from node at
true new moon ^
Equation of mean distance from!
node, add J
} °
37
5
Sun’s true distance from the ascend-1
ing node ^ 0 7 42 I4
Which being far within the above limit of 17 degrees,
shows that the sun must then be eclipsed.
And now we shall show how to project this, or any
other eclipse, either of the sun or moon.
To project an Eclipse of the Sun.
In order to this, we must find the 10 following ele¬
ments by means of the tables.
1. The true time of conjunction of the sun and moon ;
and at that time, 2. The semidiameter of the earth’s
disk, as seen from the moon, which is equal to the
moon’s horizontal parallax. 3. The sun’s distance from
the solstitial colure to which he is then nearest. 4. The
sun’s declination. 3. The angle of the moon’s visible
path with the ecliptic. 6. The moon’s latitude. 7. The
moon’s true horary motion from the sun. 8. The sun’s
semidiameter. 9. The moon’s. 10. The semidiameter
of the penumbra.
We shall now proceed to find these elements for the
sun’s eclipse in April 1764.
20 find the true time of new moon. This, by Ex¬
ample I. is found to be on the first day of the said
month, at 30 minutes 25 seconds after ten in the morn¬
ing.
2. To find the moon's horizontal parallax, or semi dia¬
meter of the earth's dish, as seen from the moon. Enter
Table X\ II. with the signs and degrees of the moon’s
Vol. III. Part I. f
anomaly (making proportions, because the anomaly is Of Calcula-
in the table only to every 6th degree), and thereby ting Eclip-
take out the moon’s horizontal parallax j which for the, ses> _
above time, answering to the anomaly 11s 90 24' 2l", v
is 54' 43".
3. To find the sun's distance from the nearest solstice,
viz. the beginning of Cancer, which is 3s or go° from
the beginning of Aries. It appears by Example I.
(where the sun’s place is calculated to the above time of
new moon), that the sun’s longitude from the beginning
of Aries is then os 120 10' 12" : that is, the sun’s place
at that time is qp Aries, 120 10' 12".
Therefore from - " 3 0
Subtract the sun’s longitude or place o 12
O
10
o
12
Remains the sun’s distance from 7 0
the solstice C5 j 2 17 49 48
Or 770 49' 48" $ each sign containing 30 degrees.
4. To find the sun's declination. Enter Table XIV.
with the signs and degrees of the sun’s true place, viz.
0s 120, and making proportions for the io' 12", take
out the sun’s declination answering to his true place,
and it will be found to be 40 49’ north.
5. To find the moon's latitude. This depends on her
distance from her ascending node, which is the same as
the sun’s distance from it at the time of new moon j and
is thereby found in Table XVI.
But we have already found that the sun’s equated
distance from the ascending node, at the time of new
moon in April 1764, is os 7® 42' 14". See above.
Therefore, enter Table XVI. with o signs at the
top, and 7 and 8 degrees at the left hand, and take out
36' and 39", the latitude for 70; and 41' 51", the lati¬
tude for 8°: and by making proportions between these
latitudes for the 42' 14", by which the moon’s distance
from the node exceeds 7 degrees, her true latitude will
be found to be 40' iS" north ascending.
6. To find the moon's true horary motionfrom the sun.
With the moon’s anomaly, viz. IIs 90 24’ 21", enter
Table XVII. and take out the moon’s horary motion 4
which, by making proportions in that Table, will be
found to be 30' 22w. Then, with the sun’s anomaly,
9s i° 26' 19", take out his horary motion 2' 28" from
the same table j and subtracting the latter from the
former, there will remain 27' 54" for the moon’s true
horary motion from the sun.
7. To find the angle of the moon's visible path with
the ecliptic. This, in the projection of eclipses, may be
always rated at 50 35', without any sensible error.
8. 9. To find the semidiameters of the sun and moon.
These are found in the same table, and by the same ar¬
guments, as their horary motions. In the present
case, the sun’s anomaly gives his semidiameter 16' 6",
and the moon’s anomaly gives her semidiameter 14'
57"*
10. To find the semidiameter of the penumbra.
Add the moon’s semidiameter to the sun’s, and their
sum will be the semidiameter of the penumbra, viz.
31’ S"-
Now collect these elements, that they may be found
the more readily when they are wanted in the construc¬
tion of this eclipse.
X
1. True
162
A S T R
Ol Calcula¬
ting i;dp-
«es, &c.
I. True time of new moon in
April 1764 - - 1 10 30 25
2. Semidiameter of the earth’s disk
3. Sun’s distance from the nearest solst.
4. Sun’s declination, north
5. Moon’s latitude, north ascending
6. Moon’s horary motion from the sun
7. Angle of the moon’s visible path 1
with the ecliptic j
8. Sun’s semidiameter
9. Moon’s semidiameter
3 0. Semidiameter of the penumbra
O 54 53
77 49 48
4 49 0
o 40 18
o 27 54
5 35 0
16 6
, H 57
31 3
To project ati Eclipse of the Sun geometrically.
i'jg. i^S. a. Make a scale of any convenient length, as AC, and
divide it into as many equal parts as the earth’s semi¬
disk contains minutes of a degree ; which, at the time
of the eclipse in April 1764, is 54' 53". Then, with
the whole length of the scale as a radius, describe the
semicircle AMB upon the centre C j which semicircle
shall represent the northern half of the earth’s enlight¬
ened disk as seen from the sun.
Upon the centre C raise the straight line CH, per¬
pendicular to the diameter ACB; so ACB shall be a part
of the ecliptic, and CH its axis.
Being provided with a good sector, open it to the
radius CA in the line of chords ; and taking from
thence the chord of 23^ degrees in your compasses, set
it off both ways from H, to g and to A, in the peri¬
phery of the semidisk j and draw the straight line g \h,
in which the north pole of the disk will be always
found.
When the sun is in Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Can¬
cer-, Leo, and Virgo, the north pole of the earth is en¬
lightened by the sun : but whilst the sun is in the other
six signs, the south pole is enlightened, and the north
pole is in the dark.
And when the sun is in Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces,
Aries, Taurus, and Gemini, the northern half of the
earth’s axis C XII P lies to the right hand of the axis
of the ecliptic, as seen from the sun j and to the left
hand, whilst the sun is in the other six signs.
Open the sector till the radius (or distance of the
two 90’s) of the sines be equal to the length of V h,
and take the sine of the sun’s distance from the sol-
tice (77° 49' 48^) as nearly as yon can guess, in your
compasses, from the line of the sines, and set off that
distance from V to P in the line g V h, because the
earth’s axis lies to the right hand of the axis of
the ecliptic in this case, the sun being in Aries; and
draw the straight line C XII P for the earth’s axis,
of which P is the north pole. If the earth’s axis had
lain to the left hand from the axis of the ecliptic,
the distance VP would have been set off from V to¬
wards g.
To draw the parallel of latitude of any given place,
as suppose London, or the path of that place on the
earth’s enlightened disk as seen from the sun, from sun¬
rise till sunset, take the following method.
Subtract the latitude of London, 5i°4, from 90°,
and the remainder 38°4 will be the colatitude, which
take in your compasses from the line of chords, making
3
O N O M Y. Appendij
CA or CB the radius, and set it from h (where the or Cal^
earth’s axis meets the periphery of the disk) to VI and ting £*
VI, and draw the occult or dotted line VI K VI. scsAc
Then, from the points where this line meets the earth’s
disk, set off the chord of the sun’s declination 40 49' to
D and F, and to E and G, and connect these points
by the two occult lines F XII G and DLE.
Bisect LK XII in K, and through the point K
draw the black line VI K VI. Then make CB the
radius of a line of sines on the sector, take the colati¬
tude of London 38°4 from the sines in your compasses,
and set it both ways from K to VI and VI. These
hours will be just in the edge of the disk at the equi¬
noxes, but at no other time in the whole year.
With the extent K VI taken into your compasses,
set one foot in K (in the black line below the occult
one) as a centre, and with the other foot describe the
semicircle VI 789 10, &c. and divide it into 12 equal
parts. Then from these points of division draw the
occult lines 77?, 80, qn, &c. parallel to the earth’s axis
C XII P.
With the small extent K XII as a radius, describe
the quadrantal arc XIIf and divide it into six equal
parts, as XII, a, ab, be, cd, de, and ef; and through
the division points c, b, c, d, e, draw the occult lines
VII * V, VIII d IV, IX c III, X b II, and XI o I,
all parallel to VI K. VI, and meeting the former occult
lines 7/?, 80, &c. in the points Vll VIII IX X XI,
V IV HI II and I: which points shall mark the se¬
veral situations of London on the earth’s disk, at these
hours x-espectively, as seen from the sun j and the ellip¬
tic curve VI VII VIII, &c. being drawn through these
points, shall represent the parallel of latitude, or path
of London on the disk, as seen from the sun, from its
rising to its setting.
N. B. If the sun’s declination had been south, the
diurnal path of London would have been on the upper
side of the line VI K VI, and would have touched the
line DLE in L. It is requisite to divide the horary
spaces into quarters (as some are in the figure), and, if
possible, into minutes also.
Make CB the radius of a line of chords on the sec¬
tor, and take therefrom the chord of f 33', the
angle of the moon’s visible path with the ecliptic, set
it off from II to M on the left hand of CH, the axis
of the ecliptic, because the moon’s latitude is north
ascending. Then draw CM for the axis of the moon’s
orbit, and bisect the angle MCH by the right line Cz.
If the moon’s latitude had been north descending, the
axis of her orbit would have been on the right hand
from the axis of the ecliptic. N. B. The axis of
the moon’s orbit lies the same way when her latitude
is south ascending as when it is north ascending j and
the same way when south descending as when north
descending.
Take the moon’s latitude 40' 18" from the scale
CA in your compasses, and set it from i to x in the
bisecting line Css, making ix parallel to Cy: and through
x, at right angles to the axis of the moon’s orbit CM,
draw the straight line N wxy S for the path of the pe¬
numbra’s centre over the earth’s disk.—The point u>,
in the axis of the moon’s orbit, is that where the pe¬
numbra’s centre approaches nearest to the centre of the
earth’s disk, and consequently in the middle of the ge¬
neral eclipses; the point a? is that where the conjunction
of
rn<
l
i
Lppiclix.
Calila-of the sun and moon falls, according to equal time by
ng Hip- the tables; and the point y is the ecliptical conjunction
ics, ic. 0f sun and moon.
Take the moon’s true horary motion from the sun,
27/ 54,,» in your compasses, from the scale CA (every
division of which is a minute of a degree), and with
that extent make marks along the path of the penum¬
bra’s centre; and divide each space from mark to mark
into 60 equal parts or horary minutes, by dots ; and
set the hours to every 6oth minute, in such a manner,
that the dot signifying the instant of new moon by
the tables may fall into the point X, half way between
the axis of the moon’s orbit and the axis of the eclip¬
tic ; and then the rest of the dots will show the points
of the earth’s disk, where the penumbra’s centre is at the
instants denoted by them, in its transit over the earth.
Apply one side of a square to the line of the penum¬
bra’s path, and move the square backwards and for¬
wards until the other side of it cuts the same hour and
minute (as at tn and wi) both in the path of London
and in the path of the penumbra’s centre; and the
particular minute or instant which the square cuts at
the same time on both paths shall be the instant of
the visible conjunction of the sun and moon, or greatest
obscuration of the sun, at the place for which the con¬
struction is made, namely London, in the present ex¬
ample ; and this instant is at 37^ minutes past ten
o’clock in the morning; which is 17 minutes five se¬
conds later than the tabular time of true conjunction.
Take the sun’s semidiameter, l6' 6", in your com¬
passes, from the scale CA, and setting one foot on the
path of London, at m, namely at 47^ minutes past ten,
with the other foot describe the circle UY, which shall
represent the sun’s disk as seen from London at the
greatest obscuration.—Then take the moon’s semidia¬
meter, 14' 57", in your compasses from the same scale,
and setting one foot on the path of the penumbra’s
centre at m, in the 47^ minutes after ten, with the other
foot describe the circle TY for the moon’s disk, as
seen from London, at the time when the eclipse is at
the greatest, and the portion of the sun’s disk which is
hid or cut off by the moon’s will show the quantity of
the eclipse at that time ; which quantity may be mea¬
sured on a line equal to the sun’s diameter, and divided
into 12 equal parts for digits.
Lastly, take the semidiameter of the penumbra, 3i'3",
from the scale Cx4 in your compasses; and setting one
foot in the line of the penumbra’s centre path, on the
left hand from the axis of the ecliptic, direct the other
foot toward the path of London ; and carry that extent
backwards and forwards till both the points of the com¬
passes fall into the same instants in both the paths : ami
these instants will denote the time when the eclipse be¬
gins at London.—Then do the like on the right hand
of the axis of the ecliptic ; and where the points of the
compasses fall into the same instants in both the paths,
they will show at what time the eclipse ends at London.
These trials give 20 minutes after nine in the morning
for the beginning of the eclipse at London, at the points
N and O ; 474- minutes after ten, at the points m and
n, for the time of greatest obscuration ; and 18 minutes
after twelve, at R and S, for the time when the eclipse
ends; according to mean or equal time.
From these times we must subtract the equation of
natural days, viz. 3 minutes, 48 seconds, in leap-
year April r. and we shall have the apparen t times;
163
namely, 9 hours 16 minutes 12 seconds for the begin-or Calcula-
ning of the eclipse, 10 hours 43 minutes 42 seconds for tingKclip-
the time of greatest obscuration, and 12 hours 14 minutes ^ M ,
12 seconds for the time when the eclipse ends. But the
best way is to apply this equation to the true equal time
of new moon, before the projection be begun ; as is
done in Example I. For the motion or position of places
on the earth’s disk answers to apparent or solar time.
In this construction it is supposed, that the angle
under which the moon’s disk is seen, during the whole
time of the eclipse, continues invariably the same ; and
that the moon’s motion is uniform and rectilineal du¬
ring that time. But these suppositions do not exactly
agree with the truth; and therefore, supposing the
elements given by the tables to be accurate, yet the
times and phases of the eclipse, deduced from its con¬
struction, will not answer exactly to what passeth in
the heavens; but may be at least two or three minutes
wrong, though done with the greatest care. More¬
over, the paths of all places of considerable latitudes
are nearer the centre of the earth’s disk as seen from
the sun than those constructions make them ; because
the disk is projected as if the earth were a perfect sphere,
although it is known to be a spheroid. Consequently^
the moon’s shadow will go farther northward in all
places of northern latitude, and farther southward in
all places of southern latitude, than it is shown to do
in these projections.——According to Meyer’s I ables,
this eclipse was about a quarter of an hour sooner than
either these tables, or Mr Flamstead’s, or Dr Halley’s,
make it; and was not annular at London. But M. de
la Caille’s make it almost central.
The Projection of Lunar Eclipses.
When the moon is within 12 degrees of either of
her nodes at the time when she is full, she will be
eclipsed; otherwise not.
We find by Example II. that at the time of
mean full moon in May 1762, the sun’s distance from
the ascending node was only 40 49' SS" '■> an^ tlm moon
being then opposite to the sun, must have been just as
near her descending node, and was therefore eclipsed.
The elements for constructing an eclipse of the moon
are eight in number, as follows :
1. The true time of full moon ; and at that time,
2. The moon’s horizontal parallax. 3. The sun’s se¬
midiameter. 4. The moon’s. 5. The semidiameter of
the earth’s shadow at the moon. 6. The moon’s lati¬
tude. 7. The angle of the moon’s visible path with
the ecliptic. 8. The moon’s true horary motion from
the sun.—Therefore,
1. To find the true time of new orfull moon. Work
as already taught in the precepts.—Thus we have the
true time of full moon in May 1762 (see Example II.
page 562) on the 8th day, at 50 minutes 50 seconds
past three o’clock in the morning.
2. To find the moon's horizontal parallax. Enter
Table XVII. with the moon’s mean anomaly (at the
above full) 9s 2° 42' 42", and thereby take out her
horizontal parallax ; which, by making the requisite
proportions, will be found to be 57' 23"*
3. 4. To find the semidiameters of the sun and moon.
Enter Table XVII. with their respective anomalies,
the sun’s being 10s 70 27' 45" (by the above example),
and the moon’s 9s 2® 42' 42"; and thereby take out
their respective semidiameters ; the sun’s if 56", and
the moon’s 15' 38".
ASTRONOMY.
164
A S T R
Of Calcula- 5. To find the semidiameter of the earth"1 s shadow at
ting Eclip the moon. Add the sun’s horizontal parallax, which is
, ses’ Stc- _ always io', to the moon’s, which in the present case is
y" 37' 23//, the sun will he 57' 33", from which subtract
the sun’s semidiameter 15' 56", and there will remain
41' 37" for the semidiameter of that part of the earth’s
shadow which the moon then passes through.
6. To find the mooli’s latitude. Find the sun’s true
distance from the ascending node (as already taught at
the true time of full moon) j and this distance increased
by six signs will be the moon’s true distance from the
same node j and consequently the argument for finding
her true latitude.
Thus, in Example II. the sun’s mean distance from the
ascending node was o* 40° 49' 35", at the time of mean
full moon ; but it appears by the example, that the true
time thereof was six hours 33 minutes 38 seconds sooner
than the mean time ; and therefore we must subtract the
sun’s motion from the node (found in Table XII.) du¬
ring this interval from the above mean distance of 0s 40
49' 35'', in order to have his mean distance from it at
the true time of full moon. Then to this apply the
equation of his mean distance from the node, found in
Table XV. by his mean anomaly 10s 70 27' 45" : and
lastly add six signs : so shall the moon’s true distance
from the ascending node be found as follows:
s » ' «
O 4 40 ^
*5 35
1 26
3
 [I 3
o 4 32 32
1 38 o
o 6 jo 32
Sun from node at mean full moon
{6 hours •
33 minutes
38 seconds
Sum, subtract from the uppermost line
Remains his mean distance at true full moon
Equation of his mean distance, add
Sun’s true distance from the node »
To which add
u u U O
And the sum will be - _ . T~ 10
Which is the moon’s true distance from her ascending
node at the true time of her being full j and consequently
the argument for finding her true latitude at that time.—.
Therefore, with this argument enter Table XVI. mak¬
ing proportions between the latitudes belonging to the
6th and 7th degree of the argument at the left hand
(the signs being at top) for the 10'32", and it will give
1 i0f ?e mT’,S trUe !atkude’ vvhich aPPeArs by
the table to be south descending. }
7. To find the angle of the moon’s visible path with
the ecliptic. This may be stated at 5° 35', without any
error of consequence in the projection of the eclipse.
^. lo find the moon's true horary motion from the sun
With their respecti ve anomalies take out their horary mol
tions from Table XVII. and the sun’s horary motion sub¬
tracted fi om the moon s, leaves remaining the moon’s true
horary motion from the sun : in the present case qo' 22"
JNow collect these elements together for use. ° ^
1. True time of full moon in May 1762
*. Moon’s horizontal parallax
3. Sun’s semidiameter
4. Moon’s semidiameter
5- Semidiameter of the earth’s shadow at the'moon
6. Moon s true latitude, south descending .
7- Angle of her visible path with the ediptic -
8. Her true horary motion from the sun .
r>. H. M. s.
8 3 5C 50
o 57 23
© 15
0 *5 3s
0 37
o 32 21
5 35 G
tl J!re ?IemintS b.ein& fou"d for the construction of
the moon s eclipse in May 1762, proceed as follows:
O N O M 1. Appendix,
Make a scale of any convenient length, as WX (fig. Of Calcs],.
159. 0), and divide it into 60 equal parts, each part ting IC|]p.
standing for a minute of a degree. , ses,&c,
Draw the right line ACB (fig. 160. a.) for part of
the ecliptic, and CD perpendicular thereto for the south¬
ern part of its axis ; the moon having south latitude.
Add the semidiameters of the moon and earth’s sha¬
dow together, which in this eclipse will make 57' 15";
and take this from the scale in your compasses, and set¬
ting one foot on the point C as a centre, with the other
foot describe the semicircle ADB ; in one point of
which the moon’s centre will he at the beginning of the
eclipse, and in another at the end thereof.
Take the semidiameter of the earth’s shadow, 41'
37", in your compasses from the scale, and setting one
foot in the centre C, with the other foot describe the
semicircle KLM for the southern half of the earth’s
shadow, because the moon’s latitude is south in this
eclipse.
IVIake CD equal to the radius of a line of chords on
the sector, and set off the angle of the moon’s visible path
with the ecliptic 50 35' from D to E, and draw the right
line CEE for the southern half of the axis of the moon’s
orbit lying to the right hand from the axis of the eclipw
tic CD, because the moon’s latitude is south descend-
ing.—It would have been the same way (on the other
side of the ecliptic) if her latitude had been north de¬
scending, but contrary in both cases, if her latitude had1 * 3 4 * 6 * 8
been either north ascending or south ascending.
Bisect the angle DCE by the right line Cg-, in which
line the true equal time of opposition of the sun and
moon falls as given by the table.
Take the moon’s latitude 32' 21", from the scale
with your compasses, and set it from C to G in the
and through the point G, at right angles
to CEE, draw the right line PHGEN for the path of
the moon’s centre. Then F shall be the point in the
earth’s shadow, where the moon’s centre is at the
middle of the eclipse j G, the point where her centre
is at the tabular time of her being full; and H, the
point where her centre is at the instant of her ecliptica!
opposition. r
. 1alce moon’s horary motion from the sun 30' 52"
in your compasses from the scale j and with that extent
make marks along the line of the moon’s path PGN :
then divide each space from mark to mark into 60
equal parts, or horary minutes, and set the hours to the
proper dots m such a manner, that the dot signifying
the instant of full moon (viz. 50 minutes 50 seconds
fi r r, 6 morning) may be in the point G, where
the line of the moon’s path cuts the line that bisects the
angle DCE.
lake the moon’s semidiameter, 15' 38", in your com¬
passes from the scale, and with that extent, as a radius,
upon the points N, F, and P, as centres, describe the
circle Q for the moon at the beginning of the eclipse,
when she touches the earth’s shadow at Vj the circle
R for the moon at the middle of the eclipse; and the
circles for the moon at the end of the eclipse, just
leaving the earth’s shadow at W. r > J
The pomt N denotes the instant when the eclipse he-
gan, namely, at I j minutes 10 seconds after II in the
morning; the point F the middle of the eclipse at 4T
minutes 44 seconds past III; and the point F the eid
of the eclipse at 18 minutes after V.-At the greatest
obscuration the moon was iq digits eclipsed.
TABLE 1.
ASTRONOMICAL TABLES for calculating ECLIPSES.
2Vic mean time of New Moon in March, Old Style ; with the mean Anomalies of tlie Sun and Moon, and the Sun's
mean distance from the Mooli's ascending Node, from A.D. xyoo to A. if. icoo inclusive.
table 1.
!700
'yoi
.702
7°3
704
7°5
706
7°7
708
7°9
1710
711
71
225
713
714
71
716
5 23
717
71
ll9
720
8 19
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
73°
731
73
733
734
735
: 736
737
fr-
738
739
74°
741
742
743
744
745
646
747
.WeanNewMoon
in March.
D. H. M. S.
258
8 16 11
27 T3 44 5
16 22 32 41
6 7 21 18
24 4 53 57
34 8
13 l3 42
2 22 31 11
21 20 3 50
10 4 52
27 8
43 8
9 2 25
8 11 13
7 20 2 20
17 34 5
79
99
x5 2
4 11
8
11 17
36 8
23
12 1
44 52
33
3 8
29 8
1 2 22 5812 632
9 o 28 44
8 19 44 37
9 8 6 49
23
9 8
27 6
54 45
43 22
16
16 15 4 38
5 23 53 1
24 2i 25 54
13 6 14 31
2 I5 3
21 12 35 47
10 21 24 23
28 18 57
18 3 45 4°
7 i2 34 *6
26 10 6 56
r4 18 55 33
3 44
1 16 49
10 5 25
18 54
16 26 42
1 15 188
22 47 c8
7 3^ 34
16 25 11
l3 57 52
48
13 22 46 278
2 7 35
21 5 7 44
10 13 56 20
29 11 29
i
748
749
75°
751
752
Sun’s Mean
Anomaly.
19 58 48
8 2° 59
8 27 36 51
52 43
5 J4 54
24 3° 47
*3 4^ 39
2 8 50
21 24 43
9 46 54
29 2 47
8 18 18 39
6 40 51
25 56 43
15 12 35
9 3 34 47
22 50 39
4 8
8 27 22 41
16 38 33
9 5 ° 45
8 24 16 37
7 8
39
13 32 29
9 1 54 41
8 21 10 34
9 52 46
8 28 48 39
8 18 4 31
9 6 26 42
8 25 42 34
9 8
9
28
9
14 58 26
3 20 39
22 36 30
11 52 22
° M 34
19 30 26
7 52 38
27 8 3°
16 24 22
4 46 34
2 27
18 20
24
*3
1 40 32
20 56 24
09 9 18 36
Moon’s Mean
Anomaly.
3° 37
7 42
22
28
7 55 47
J7 43 52
20 57
23
Sun’s meauDist
from tlie Node
M 31 7
23 14 8
1 16 55
9 J9 42
18 2 43
7 3 9 2
5 12 57 7
4 18 34 J3
2 28 22 18
2 3 59 24
o 13 47 30
10 23 35 36
9 29 12 42
8 9 o 47
6 18 48 52
5 24 25 57
4 4 14 2
2 14 2
1 '9 39 !3
11 29 27 18
11 5 4 24
9 r4 52 29
7 24 4° 34
7 o 17 40
5 5 45
3 19 53 5°
2 25 30 56
1 5 J9
o 10 56
10 20 44 12
9 o 32 17
8 ^ 9 23
6 15 57 28
25 45
1
11
33
22 30
10 44
20 c8 49
26 35 55
10 6 24 o
9 12 1 6
7 21 49 11
6 1 37 16
5 7 I4 22
17 2 27
26 50 32
2 27 38
12 15
43
10 17 52 49
368
26
3 8
17 20 17
7 5 6
2 38 53
L5 11 27 29
3 20 16 6
28 34 28
17 50 20
9 6 12 32
8 25 28 24
8 14 44 16
8 27 40 54
7 7 28 59
613 6
4 22 54 10
3 2 42 15
9 26 5 30
10 4 8 17
11 12 51 18
11 20 54
o 29 37
1 7 39 54
1 15 42 41
2 14 25 43
2 28 30
10 31 17
19 14 18
27 J7
5 !9 52
14 2 54
22 5 41
o 48 45
8 8 51 29
8 16 54 16
9 25 37 18
10 3 40
10 11 42 52
11 20 25 54
11 28 28 41
1 7 11 42
1 15 14 29
1 23 17 16
3 2 o 17
3 10 3
3 18 5 51
4 26 48 53
5 4 51 4
5 12 54 27
6 21 37 29
6 29 40 16
8 8 23 18
8 16 26 5
8 24 28 52
° 3 11 54
10 1 14 41
10 19 17 28
11 28 o 30
o 6 3 17
1 14 46 19
22 49 5
° 51 52
9 34 53
17 37 4c
25 40 27
I Mean New Moon
in March.
x753
1754
1755
'756
I757
D. H. M. S.
22 17 48 45
12 2 37 22
1 11 25
19 8 58 389
8 17 47 1
59 8
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
n6s
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
,77I
1772
T773
i774
x775
!776
1777
1778
:779
1780
1781
1782
j783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
179°
I79I
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
!797
1798
1799
1 Sea
58
27 !5 !9 54
17 o 8 31
8 57
6 29 47
15 18 24
3 ° 7
20 21 39 40
10 6
29 4
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
Moon’s mean
Anomaly.
Sun’r mean Dist.
from the Node.
9 3 6 28
8 22 22 20
11 38 12
o o 24
19 16 16
9 7 38 28
8 26 54 20
16 10 12
88
9 4 S2 24
8 23 48 16
13 4
1 26 20
28 178 20 42 13
° 569 9 4 20
338
18 12 49
6 21 38 10
25 19 10 40
A5 3 59 26
4 12 48 2
22 IO 20 43
II 19 9 19
1 3 57 55
20 1 30 35
8 10 19 12
27
7 51 51
16 16 40 28
6 1 29 4
23 23 1
44
13 7 50 21
9 23
38 57
14 11 37
o 13
28 20 32 53
18
5 21 30
14 10 6
11 42 46
14 20 31 23
A 5 I9 59
23 2 52 39
lS
11 11 41
3° 9 I3 55
19 18 2 32
9 2 51
27
23 48
16 9 12 24
5 18 1 1
24 51 33 4l
13 o 22 17
28 20 17
8 17 36
9 5 58 21
8 25 14 13
8 14 3°
9 2 52 17
8 22 8
8 11 24 1
8 29 46 13
8192
9 7 24 17
8 26 40
8 15 56
4 18 13
8 23 34 5
12 49 58
1 12 10
20 28
8 5° !5
~ 6
8 28
8
9 5
8 25
17 21 59
44 11
o
!4 1S 55
9 2 38 7
8 21 53 59
9 1016 11
8 29 32
8 18 47 45
9 7 10
8 26 25 39
8 J5 45 51
9 4 4
8 23 19 55
2 8 19 21
o 18 7 26
27 55 31
1° 3 S2 37
8 13 20 42
18 57 48
28 45 54
8 34
14 11 6
23 59 11
o 3 47 16
1 9 24 21
9 19 12 26
8 24 49 32
4 37 37
14 25 42
20 2 48
29 5° 53
9 38 58
o 15 16
10 25 4
9 4
9
52 14
8 10 29 20
6 20 17 25
25 54 31
5 42 36
!5 3° 41
21 7 47
° 55 52
10 43 57
16 21
26
9
46 14
11 34 19
21 22 24
26 59 30
6 47 35
35 4°
10 22 12 46
2
7
17 26
52
37 58
4 23 28
12 26 1
20 29
29 12 3
7 J4 5
8 lS 57 52
8 24 o 39
9 2 3 26
10 10 46 17
10 18 49 14
10 26 52
° 5 35
° J3 37 49
1 22 20 51
2 o 23 38
2 8 26 25
3 17 9 27
3 25 12 14
4 3 *5
11
20
28
6
58 3
o 50
3 37
46 38
14 49 25
8 23. 32 26
9 1 35 13
9 9 38 o
10 18 21 1
10 26 23 48
11 4 26 35
o 13 9 36
0. 21 12 23
1 29 55 25
2 7 58 12
16 o 59
24 44 1
2 46 48
49 35
J9 S2 37
27 M 9
2 51, 14
2 12 39 19
o 22 27 25
11 28 4 31
10 7 52 36
5 27 35 24
7 6~ 18 26
7 14, 21 13
7 22 24 o
,9171
9 9 9 48
9 i7 12 35
25 55 37
11 3 58 24
166
ASTRONOMICAL TABLES for calculating ECLIPSES.
11S2
*753
i754 23 2 37 22
r755
175630 8 58 389
*757
^758
»759
1760
1761
TABLE II. Mean New Moot}, &fc. in March, New
Style, from A. D. 1752 to A. D. 1800.
XleanNewMoon
in March
D. H. M. S.
14 20 16 6
4 5 4 42
f2 II 25 598
I9 17 47 I
9 2 35 51
,8 o 8 31
6 8 57 8
5 J7 45
1762
1763
1764
^65
1766
24 1; 18
14 o 7
8 55
6 28
1 c 16
1767
1768
1769
I77°
1771
1772
T773
1774
r775
1776
1777
1778
!779
1780
1781
1782
r783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
l79°
I79I
1792
1793
1794
J795
i796
1797
1798
1799
1800
58
44 8
24 8
368
29 12 49 33
17 21 38
Sim’s mean
Anomaly.
14 44 l6
408
22 22 20
II 38
o o
12
24
19 l6 l6
8 32 8
8 26 54 20
8 16 10 12
5 26 4
23 48 16
13 4 8
2 20 o
178 20 42 13
53 8 9 58 5
Moon’s mean
Anomaly.
2 42 15
12 30 20
7 26
l8
27 55 31
10 o 32 37
3
*4
5
5
6
8 13 20 42
6 23 8 47
5 28 45 54
4 8 34 o
2 18 22 5
1 23 59 11
o 3 47 16
10 13 35 21
9 19 12 26
7 29 o 31
Sun’s mean Dist
from the Node.
25 40 27
3 43 J4
12 26 15
20 29 2
29 12 3
7 7 J4 5°
7 *5 !7 S8
10 18 49 14
10 26 52 1
11 4 54 48
0 l3 37 49
21 40 37
8 28 20 17
8 17 36 9
7 6 26 468 6 52 1
26 3 59 268 25 14 13
15 12 48 2
[98
3 21 36 398
22 19 9
12 3 57
1 12 46 31
19 10 19 12
55 8
8 19 7 48
27 16 40 28
J7
29 48
5 10 J7 40
24 7 50 21
3
20 23
16 38 578
1 27 33
1 5
10 7 48 508
5
29
21
308
H 4° 5
3
22
11
o
8 19
54 57
8 9
24 1
39 53
2
8 8 17 57
8 26 40
*5 56
8 5 II
8 23 24
53
12 49 58
5°
2 5
20 28
43 55
6
18 14 10 6
6 22 58 42
25 20 31
5 x9
x4 8 35
38
59 8
22 11 41 15
11 20 29 51
17 21 59
6 37 51
25 o
14 x5 55
3 3r 47
8 21 53 59
8 11 95
30 18 2 3218 29 32
20 2 51 8|8 18 47 55
8 11 39 4418 8347
27 9 12 24
16 18 1 1
6 2 49 37
2; o 22 17
8 26 25 59
8 15 41 51
8 4 57 43
8 23 19 55
4 37 37
14 2; 42
24 13 47
29 5° 53
9 38 58
11 19 27
!0 25 4
9 4 52 T4
7 14 40 16
6 20 17 25
0 5 3°
5 42 36
x5 3° 41
25 18 46
o 55 52
10 10 43 57
8 20 32
9 26 9
6 5 57 x3
5 11 34 x9
2 12 39 19
o 22 27 25
n 2 15 30
10 7 56 36
o 23 38
8 26 25
16 29 13
25 12 14
3 15
11 17 48
20 o 50
28 3 37
6 6 24
14 49 25
22 52 12
2 35 x3
9 S8
7
9
9
9 x7 40 47
10 26 23 48
11 4 26 35
11 12 29 22
o 21 12 23
o 29 15 10
2 7 58 12
16 o 59
24 3 46
2 46 48
49 35
18 52 22
5 27 35 24
6 5 S8 11
7 *4 21 13
7 22 24 o
8 o 26 47
9 9 9 48
9 r7 12 35
9 25 15 22
11 3 58 24
TABLE III. Mean Anomalies, and Sun's mean Distance
from the Node, for 3 mean Lunations.
N.
10
11
Mean
Lunations.
D. H. M. S
29 12 44
39 1 28
88 14 12 9
118 2 56 12
147 15 40 15
x77
7 209
24 18
8 21
4
17
5 52 24
18 36 27
295 7 20 30
8 236
9265
324 20 4 33
2 354 8 48 36
21 32 49
3 383
14 18 22 2
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
o 29 6 19
1 28 12 39
2 27 l8 58
3 26 25 17
4 25 31 37
24 37 56
23 44 15
22 50 35
21 56 54
21 3 14
10 20
9 33
11 19 15 55
o 18 22 12
o 14 33 10
Moon’s mean
Anomaly.
Sun’s mean Disi
from the Node,
o 25 49
1 21 38
2 17 27 1
2
2
3 J3 16
4 9 5
4 54
° 43
26 32
22 21
9 13 59
10 9 48
“ 5 37
6 12 54 30 o 15 20
1 o 40 1
2 1 20 2
3204
4 2 40 5
5 3 21 1
6412
7 4 4i 3
8 5 21 j
962
8 18 10 4 10 6 42 1
7 22
8 -2
8 43
TABLE IV. The Days of the Year, reckoned from th
beginning of March.
Inna
L
921
[Ok
(on:
ASTRONOMICAL TABLES for calculating ECLIPSES.
TABLE V. Mean Lunations from I to 100000.
,unat. Days. Decimal Parts.
400)(
joo
b[9
cf:
|
k-j
u
700
800
900
1000
2000
3000
4000
500°
6000
7000
8000
9000
|0000
0000
0000
0000
0000
0000
0000
0000
0000
0000
29-53059o85io8°
cp.odi 181702160
88.59177255324°
118.122363404320
I47-^52954255401
i77«l83545Io6481
206.714135957561
236.244726808641
265-7753i7659722
295-3059o85io8°
590.61181702160
885,9i 77255324°
1181.22363404320
I47^'52954255401
i77i-835451o6481
2067.14135957561
2362 44726808641
26i7-753l7659722
2953,059o85io8°
5906.1181702160
8859-i77255324°
11812.2363404320
I47^5-2954255401
i77l8-3545i°648i
20671.4135957561
23624.4726808641
2^577,53I7^59722
29530*59o85io8c
59061.181702160
8859i,77255324°
118122.363404320
I47^52-954255401
i77i83-545i°6481
206714.135957561
236244.726808641
265775-3I7659722
295305-9o85io8°
590611.81702160
8859i7-7255324°
1181223.63404320
i476529-54255401
177i835-45io6481
2067141.35957561
2362447.26808641
2^57753-17^59722
2953059 o85io8°
Days. H. M. S. Th. Ko.
= 29
59
88
118
I47
J77
206
236
26?
295
590
885
1181
1476
1771
2067
2362
2657
2953
5906
8859
11812
M765
17718
20671
23624
26577
2953°
59061
8859!
118122
i47652
i77i83
206714
236244
265775
2953°5
590611
885917
1181223
1476529
i77i835
2067141
2362447
2657753
2953059
12 44
1 28
4
*7
5
1412 9
2 56 12
!5 40 I5
24 18
8 21
52 24
18 36 27
7 20 30
14 41 o
22 1 31
5 22 1
12 42 32
20 3 2
3 23 33
10 44 3
i8 4 34
1 25 4
50 9
7
57
x5 J4
40 19
5 24
8 30 29
9 55 34
11 20 39
12 45 44
14 10 49
4 21 39
18 32 28
8 43 18
22 54
J3 4
3 J5 46
17 26 36
7 37 25
21 48 15
19 36 30
17 24 46
!5 !3 1
13 I 16
10 49 32
8 37 47
6 25 2
4 14 18
2 2 33
2 58
5 57
8 55
11 53
J4 52
!7 5°
20 48
23 47
26 45
29 43
59 26
29 10
58 53
28 36
58 !9
28 2
57 46
27 29
57 12
54 24
51 36
48 48
46 o
43 12
40 24
37 S6
34 48
32 0
4
36
8
40
12
44
16
48
20
40
o
20
40
o
20
40
o
20
BLE VI. The first mean New Moon, with the mean
Anomalies of the Sun and Moon, and the Sun’s mean
Distance from the Ascending Node, next after complete
Centuries of Julian Years.
first
New Moon.
D. H. M. S
4 8 10 52
8 16 21 44
r3 ° 32 37
17 8 43 29
21 16 54 21
26 1 5 14
o 20 32 3
5 4 42 55
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
o 321
O 64
o 10 3
o 13 24
o 16 46
O 20 7
II 24 22
I! 27 43
M’s mean
Anomaly.
Sun from
Node.
S
8 15 22
5 o 44
1 16 6
10 1 28
6 16 50
2212
10 21 45
111
4 19 27
9 8 55
1 28 22
6 17 49
n 716
3 26 44
7 IS 31
o 4 58
Luna¬
tions.
11132
12369
13606
i4843
900
1000
1100
1200
16080
il3i6
i8553
I979°
21072
22264
23 5°1
2473 8
25974
27211
28448
29685
30922
32159
33396
34632
35869
37106
38343 3
290c
300c
100
395803200
4081
42054
4329°
44527
7 3300
3400
35oo
3600
45764
47001
4823"
49475
50711
5T948
53185
i4422
55659
56896
58i33
59369
60606
6i843
63080 5
64317
65554
66791
68028
69265
70502
7I739
72976
74212
1300
1400
1500
1600
1700
1800
1900
2000
First
New Moon.
D. II. M. S.
9 12 53 47
13 21 4 40
18 5 J5 32
22 13 26 24
Sun smean
Anomalv.
26 21 37 16
I 17 4 '
6 i 14 58
1o 9 25 50
2100
2200
2300
2400
2500
2600
2700
2800
3700
38oo
83900
4000
4100
4200
4300
440c
4500
4600
4700
4800
4900
5000
100
5200
5300
5400
55oo
5600
57oo
58oo
59°°
6000
14 17 36 42
x9 1 47 35
23 9 58 27
27 18 9 19
2 13 36
6 21 47
11 5 57 53
15 14 8 45
19 22 19 38
24 6 30 30
28 14 41 22
3 10 8
7 18 I9 3
12 2 29 56
16 10 40 48
20 18 51 40
25 3 2 33
29 11 J3 25
4 6 40 14
8 14 51 6
12 23 1 59
17 7 12 51
21 15 23 43
25 23 34 35
o 19
5. 3
25
12 1
9 11 23 9
l3 !9 34 1
18 3 44 54
22 11 55 46
26 20 6 38
1 !5 33 27
5 23 44 20
10 7 55 12
14 16 6 4
19 o 16 56
1 4
4 25
7 46
11 7
M’s mean
Anomaly
o 14 28
II 18 43
II 22 4
11 25 25
II 28 46
O 2
O 5 29
8 50
11 13
11 16 26
11 19 47
11 23 8
11 26 29
11 29 50
o 3 11
11 7 26
11 10 47
11 14
11 17 30
11 20 51
11 24 12
n 27 33
11 1 48
11 5 9
11 8 30
11 11 51
11 15 12
11 18 33
io 22 48
10 26 9
10 29 31
11 2 52
11 613
11 9 34
11 12 55
17 9
10
10 20 31
10 23 52
10 27 13
11 o 34
23 8 27 49 11
27 16 38 41
2 12 5 30
6 20 16 22
3 55
11 7 16
10 11 31
10 14 52
4 27 15
i5 12 38 7
19 20 48 eo
24 4 59 52
10 18 14
10 21 35
10 24 56
10 28 17
3 22 29
o 7 51
8 23 53
5 8 35
1 23 57
9 13 30
5 28 52
2 14 14
10 29 36
7 14 58
4 o 20
o 15 42
8 5 15
4 20 37
1 5 59
9 21 21
6 6 43
2224
11 7 26
6 26 59
3 12 21
11 27 43
8 13 5
4 28 27
1 13 49
9 29 11
5 18 44
246
10 19 28
7 4 50
3 20 12
0 5 34
Sun from
Node.
4 24 25
9 13 53
2 3 20
6 22 47
11 12 15
3 1
7 20 29
o 9 56
4 29 23
9 I8 51
2 8 18
6 27 45
10 16 32
360
7 25 27
o 14 54
5 4 22
9 23 49
2 13 16
623
10 21 30
3 10 58
8 o 25
o 19 52
5 9 20
9 28 47
1 i7 34
6 7 1
7 25 7
4 10 29
o 25 51
9 11 13
5 26 35
2 11 57
10 27 19
6 16 52
3 2 14
n 17 36
8 2 58
4 18 20
1 3 42
919 4
5 8 37
1 23 59
10 9 21
6 24 43
3 !o 5
11 25 27
10 26 27
2 15 56
8 5 23
o 24 50
4 13 37
9 3 5
1 22 32
6 1159
11
1 27
3 20 54
8 10 21
11 29 8
18 36
8 5
4
9
1 27 30
6 16 57
ii 6 25
2 25 52
7 1 4 39
046
4 23 34
9 13 1
2 2 28
6 21 57
t5S
ASTRONOMICAL TABLES for calculating ECLIPSES.
TABLE VII. The annual or first Equation of the mean
to the true Si%ygy.
Argument. Sun’s mean Anomaly.
Subtract.
O
Signs.
H. M. S
26
o 4 18
0 8 35
o 12 51
017 8
o 21 24
25
28
34
38
42
46 52
51 4
55
59 27
3 36
1 7 45
1 11 53
116 o
1 20
1 24 10
1 28 12
1 32 12
I 36 IC
I 40
i 44 1
47
51
55
59
o
1
S‘gn
H. M. S
2
Signs
H. M. S
12
6 55
10 36
J4 1S
J7 52
21 27
2 25
2 28
2 31
2 35
38 44
2 42
2 45
2 48 3°
2 51 40
2 54 48
57 53
o 54
6 3
3 9 36
6 3
12 24
r5 9
!7 51
20 30
23
12
11
Si?ns
25
28
36
30 26
32 45
35
10
Signs
3 35
37 10
39 1
31 23
43 26
45 25
3
Signs
H. M.S.
4 10 53
84
^ 57
^ 55
10 49
10 39
10 24
3 47 J9
3 49 7
3
3
3 54 4
5° 5°
52 29
3 55 35
3 57 2
3 58 27
3 59 49
3 1 7
2 18
3 23
4 22
18
10
6 58
7 4l
8 21
8 57
9 29
9
10
33
10 45
10 53
9
Signs
10 4
9 39
9 10
8 37
7 59
16
29
37
41
40
2 35
1 26
o 12
58 52
57 27
4
Signs
H. M. S.
H. M.S.
3 39 3°
37 19
35 6
32 50
3° 3°
28 5
25 35
23 °
20 20
r7 35
14 49
11 59
9 6
6 10
3 10
o 7
2 57 0
2 53 49
2 5° 36
2 47 18
2 43 57
.5
Signs
7 45
2 3 55
201
1 56
1 52
527
48 4
41
39 56
35 49
31 41
27 31
23 !9
l9
14 49
10 32
6 15
3°
r9
5 18
l5
1 56
57 36
53 J5
48 52
44 28
55 59
54 26
52 49
51 9
49 26
6 3
3 47 38
45 44
3 43 45
3 41 40
3 39 3°
8
Signs
40 33
37 6
33 35
30 2
26 26
2 22 47
2 19 5
2 15 20
2 11 35
2 7 45
7
Signs
o 40 2
° 35 36
o 31 10
o 26 44
O 22 17
O I'
7 5°
o 13 23
o 8 56
o 4 29
000
6
Signs
Add
TABLE VIII. Equation of the Moon's mean Anomaly.
Argument. Sun’s mean Anomaly.
Subtract.
O
Siems
1
Sign
o o|o 46 45
37 0
13 0
52! o
JO
48
49 34
50 53
281 o 52 19
6 0 53 40
2
Sitrns
1 21 32
I 22 21
i 23 ro
I 23 57
1 24 41
1 25 24
Signs
4
Signs
.5
Sicrns
n o
35 i| 1 23 4 0
I93°
1 35
1 35 1
1 35 °
1 34 57
1 34 50
2 1
1
1
22 14
21 24
20 32
0 46 51
o 45 23
. o 43 54
19 380 42 24
18 42 o 40 53
25
10
o
Signs
l
Sign
2
Signs
o 942
o 11 20
o 12 56
O 14 33
o
16 10
16
o 17 47
o 19 23
O 20 59
O 22 35
o 24 10
° 25 45
o 27 19
o 28 52
o 30 25
° 31 57
o 33 29
° 35
o 36 32
o 38 1
o 39 29
o 40 59
o 42 26
^ 43 54
o 45
T9
46 45
o 55 0
o 56 21
O 57 38
o 58 56
1 o 13
1 29
2 43
3 56
5 8
6 18
7 27
8 36
9 42
10 49
11
54
1 12 58
1 14 1
1 15 1
1 16 o
1 16 59
1 i7 57
1 18 52
1 19 47
1 20 40
1 21 32
11
Signs
10
Signs
1 26 6
1 26 48
1 27 28
6
1 28
1 28 43
.3
Signs
i 34 43
1 34 33
1 34 22
1 34 9
1 33 53
1 29 17
1 29 51
1 30 22
1 3° 5°
1 31 19
31 45
S2 12
32 34
32 57
33 i7
33 36
33 52
34 6
34 18
34 3°
34 4°
34 48
34 54
34 58
35 1
9
Signs
1 33 37
1 33 20
1 33 °
1 32 38
1 32 14
4
Signs
.5
Signs
17 45
16 48
15 47
14 44
13 41
12 37
“ 33
10 26
9 »7
8 8
1 3i 5°
1 31 23
1 30 55
1 3° 25
1 29 54
1 29 20
1 28 45
1 28 9
1 27 30
1 26 50
26 27
25 5
24 39
23 52
23 4
8
Signs
1 ° 45
o 59 26
o 58 7
o 56 45
° 55 23
o 54
o 52 37
o 51 12
O 49 45
o 48 19
o 39 21
0 37 49
o 36 15
0 34 40
0 33 5
3i 31
29 54)
28 18
26 40
25
23 23
21 45
20
18 28
16 48
15
13 28
11 48
10 7
8 20
3 _
o 6 44
° 5 3
o 3 21
o 1 40
000
7
Signs
6
Signs
Add
CABLE IX. The second Equation of the mean to the true Sizy^
Argument. Moon’s equated Anomaly.
Add
Sigr
H.M.S.
o 10 58
o 21 56
O 32 54
° 43 52
0 54 5°
5 48
Sign
H. M. S.
H. M. S.
5 !2 48
5 21
56
30 57
39 51
48 37
57 x7
16 46
27 44
38 40
49 33
2 o 23
2 11 10
2 21 54
2 32 34
2 43 9
5 5i
14 1
22 41
3° 57
39
6 47
6 54 46
7 2 24
7 9 52
7 17
Signs
47
8 5i 45
8 56 ic
9 0
9 4
9 8 25
3
Signs
H. M. S.
9 46 44
9 45
9 45
9 44
9 42 59
9 41 36
4
Signs
H. M. S.
8 8 59 4 34 3
H. M. S
12
9 9
i5 43
19 5
22 14
25 12
9 9
27 54
3° 32
32 58
35 J4
37 12
9 40 3
9 38 19
9 36 24
9 34 i8
9 S2
9 29 33
9 26 54
9 24
9 21 3
9 !7 5i
3 12
57 23
5i 33
45 46
39 46
33 36
27 22
21
14 3°
7 5°
46
54
47
40
32 56
2 57 4i j
2 48 3|(
2 21
i I
i:
I
i 41
jfSTR GNOMICAL TABLES for calculating ECLIPSES.
163
TABLE IX. Concluded.
[3°
I|2 53 387 24 199
31
3«
44 51
51
73 4 3 7
33 14 24 7
i?3 24 42 7
33 34 587
^ a:
72
6 Add. 7 Add
M. S.M. S
Signs
hTMTs,
5 12 488 47 89 46 44
13 45 11 7
23 55 4 a
54 5 268
44 15 268
14 25 208
5435 68
74 44 428
?5 54 IIn
)5 3 338
>5 12 488
11
Signs
189
99
57 4
3
9
J5
21
569
579
469
£49
53 9
26
32 11
37
42
47
10
Signs
2
Siens
H.M.S
H.M. S.H. M.S
39 89 14 286
40 519 10 546
42 219 7 96
9 43 429 3 136
249 44 53 8 59 65
59 45 528 54 5°5
46 388 50 245
3
Signs
4
Signs
47 I38 45 483
47 36 8 41 2 c
47 498 65
47 548 31 05
9 47 468 25 44 5
T99 47 33 8 20 184
189 47 148 14 334
89 46 448 8 594
9
Signs
8 8 59
5
Signs
H. M. S
10
3
55 38
4
2 c 40 2
18 182
1
1
1
1
1
1
o
o
o
o
o
34 33
47
40
32
24
16
8
Signs
7
49
51
43
34
56
42
T5
2
33P
.7
Signs
12 8
2 53
53 36
44
34 54
25 31
16 7
6 41
57 43
47 44
38 13
28 41
J9
9
o
6
Signs
ABLE X. The third equation
the mean to the true Syzygy
Argument. Sun’s Anomaly—
Moon’s Anomalv.
0 Sub.
4 ;-
Signs
1 Sub.
0 5
0 10
0 15
0 20
0 25
0 30
0 35
0 40
0 45
0 50
0 55
1 0
1 5
I TO
1 T5
I 20
1 25
1 30
1 35
1 40
Signs
22
26
30
2
2
2 34
2 38
2 42
Signs
2 Sub.
8 Add
M. S
I 2
46
50
2
2
2 54
2 58
3
3
3 M
3 I8
3 22
I
I
1 52
1 56
2
2
2
2 13
2 18
2 22
Signs
5 Sub.
n Add
3
3
3
3
3 42
34
38
45
48
3
3
3 51
3 54
3 57
Signs
3 Sub.
4 Sub.
10 Add 9 Add
^irirp^n:
J5
18 28
21
30
32
34
36
38
4°
42
44
46
48
50
51
52
53
4 54
55
56
57
57
57
4 58
4 58
4 58
4 58
4 58
30
29
TAB.XI. The fourth equation
of the mean to the true Syzygy.
Argument. Sun’s mean diftance
from the Node.
17
15
Sigr
Uo
10
Add
}sig.
M. S
4
7j
10
L3
16
M. S.M. S
22
*3
6 r4
Crq
20
23
26
29
32
35
38
o
o
o 41
o 44
o 47
5°
i2
54
57
10
12
*4
16
18
20
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
3°
31
32
33
33
34
34
34
34
34
34
33
33
32
3i
30
29
28
27
26
25
24
22
l!
22
1 21
1 20
1 18 27
1
1
!6
!4
12 24
10 23
8 22
621
3 20
I O
° 57
o 54J7
0 5i
o 49
0 45
o 41
° 37
0 34
o 31
28
25
o
o
O 22
0 19
O 16
!3
IO
6
3
3°
Sig 3
J2
Subtract.
l!£
TABLE XII. The Sun's mean Longitude, Motion, and Anoma/y,
Old Style.
°2 K
Sun’s mean
Longitude.
301
301
401
501
1001
IIOl
1*01
1301
1401
1501
1601
1701
1801
3
7 53
9
10 9
10 54
15 39
15 26
16 ir
16 57
17 42
18 37
19 13
19 58
30 43
31 39
IO
50
IO
30
50
30
50
IO
30
50
10
3°
50
xo
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
Sun’s mean
Motion.
III
2 II
3 11
o
6
7 ii
o
11
n
11
o
II
9
10
11
13
13
I4II
15
16
I7|H
18 II
29 45
29 31
39 17
O I
29 47
29 33
39 18
o 3
29 49
29 34
39 30
O 5
29 51
39 36
39 23
o 7
39 53
39 38
4011
49II
39
9
49
38 48
26 57
36
25 5
24 9
19 32
18 36
17 40
16 44
15 49
14 53
13 57
13
13
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
11
II
II
11
11
11
II
II
11
11
11
11
11
3511
29 45
29 29
29 14
29 58
29 42
29 37
29 11
29 55
29 40
29 24
29
29 53
29 37
39 22
29 7
29 50
29 35
29 30
3 K
19
20
40
60
80
100
200
300
400
500
600
700
800
900
1000
2000
3000
4000I
5000
6000
Sun’s mean
Motion.
39 24
o 9
18
27
36
45
3°
16
1
3 46
4 32
5
6
6
7
15
17
2
48
33
6
22 40
o 13
7 46
15 30
16
4
8
12
16
20
40
o
3d
40
o
20
40
o
30
4°
o
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
11
11
11
II
11
II
II
II
11
II
11
11
11
11
11
II
11
2010
Sun?s mean
Motion.
Jan.
Feb.
Mar.
Apr.
May
Tune
'uly
Aug.
Sept.
O&.
Nov.
Dec.
° 33
28 9
28 42
28 16
38 49
28 24
28 57
29 3°
29 4
29 38
29 13
O
18
11
30
40
50
,8
36
44
54
12
22
29 4
29 48
29 37
29 26
29 15
29 4
28 8
27 12
36 16
25 21
24 25
23 29
22 33
21 37
20 41
II 23
2 3
22 44
13 25
4 6
Sun’s mean
Anomaly.
o 33
28
38 42
28 17
28 50
28 34
28 57
29 30
29
29 37
39 11
Sun’s mean
Motion and
Anomaly.
59
58
57
56
55
54
53
53
8 53
9 5i
10 50
11 49
13 48
13 47
14 47
15 46
16 45
17 44
18 43
19 42
20 41
21 41
22 40
23 39
24 38
25 37
26 36
27 35
28 35
29 34
o 33
8
27
25
33
42
5o|
58
7
25
23
32
4011I0
3
4
50
60
70
80
90
100
3017
38
47
55
3
12
20
38
45
37
53
3
1029
Sun’s mean
Motion and
Anomaly.
///!/
////
3 380
4 56°
7 240
9 5io
12 190
14 470
17 150
19 43 0
23 IIO
24 380
27 60
29 340
32 20
34 300
36 580
39 260
4i 53°
44 21 o
46 490
49 170
51 45 0
54 130
56 400
59 81
1 361
4 41
6 331
9 01
11 281
Sun’s mean
dist. from
the Node.
2 3631
5 12
7 48
10
12 59
15 35
18 11
20 47
23 23
25 58
28 34
31 10
33 45
36 31
38 57
4i 33
44
Sun’s mean
Motion and
Anomaly.
n
32
33
934
35
3 6
7
38
39
40
41
46
46 4448
47i 55
49 20
49
5i 5650
54 32
5i
57 • 852
53
54
59 43
3 19
4 55j55
16
18
31
23
26
28
31
33
36
38
41
421 43
45
48
45i 5°
53
58
o
3
5
8
10
13
15
7 31563 17
10 7572 20
13 43 583 23
15 J9593 25
1830I1 13 551 *7 45|6o 3 27
23
51
19
57
15
42
10
38
6
34
2
30
57
25
53
21
49
17
44
12
40
8
36
4
32
59
27
55
23
51
Sun’s mean
dist. from
the Node.
20 30
23 6
25 42
28 18
30 54
33 29
36 5
38 40
41 16
43 52
46 28
49 4
51 39
54 15
55 5i
59 27
2 3
39
13
50
12 25
15 2
17 38
20 14
23 50
25 26
38 3
30 38
33 14
35 50
In Leap years, after February, add one day, and one day’s motion.
ASTRONOMICAL TABLES for calculating ECLIPSES,
TABLE XIII. Equation of the Sun’s centre, or the dif¬
ference between his mean and true place.
Argument. Sun’s mean Anomaly.
Subtract
56 47
55 37
.o 58 30
1 012
561 1 53
o 21 37
! 3 23 33
Io 25 29
[0 27 25
150 29 2C
l60 31 Ij
33
!8o 35
19° 36 55
38 47
20
4° 39
2 3
d 42 30
o 44 20
240 46
47 57
55 39
55 38
55 36
55 31
55 24
1 53 57
1 53 36
1 53 12
1 52 46
1 52 18
28 41
29 57
1 31 u
1 32 25
1 33 35
53
54
54 28
54 44
54 58
48 46
48
47 !9
46 12 1
45 44
34 45
35 53
36 59
38 3
39 6
37
1 34 43:
33 32
47 57
46
32 190 44 11
31 40 42
1 29 470 41
38 25
90 36 28
oo 3° 33*5
1 21 340 28
60 26 33
24 33
50 22 32
20 30
49
1 41 120 58 530
Add
TABLE XIV. The Sun's Declination.
Argument. Sun’s true place.
Signs Sgns
00 ojn 30
20 II
I3
34 14
58;i4
5*6
Signs Signs
Signs
30
9 22
21
!5
Sg n s
16
Signs
o o
11 30
318 2 23
IO 21
IO 47
3C
Signs
Signs
18
Sign"
20
TABLE XV. Equation of the Suns mean Distance from the Node.
Argument. Sun’s mean Anomaly.
Subtract
> Sign
a I .3
SignsjSigns!
23
33 23
48 23
3 23 23
o 23
120 25
I3'o 28
21 47 a 5
48 2
5°1 4
481 2
471 o
460 58
450 5626
440 5425
30
27
I4!o 301 262
lijo 321 27
II
Signs
43° 5^
41 o 50
400 48
41 390 46
41 37 ° 44
3ji 360 42
31 34|° 4018
3 1 33|° 37
21 SL0 35
21 3°° 33
i9
Signs
18,0 38
i9'o 40
200 42
Signs
o 34
o 36
o 44
o 46
230 48
24 0 50
aj|o 52
260 54
270 56
280 58
1 o
1 2
2 iV.j U
8 S.f
2610 419 1723 25
23 27
23 28
23 29
23 29
l9 3l
l9 45
19 58
20 11
Add
11
Sign
28
1 47
2 2 O
Signs Signs Signs
41
41
59
50
1 21
1 J3t
0 311
0 29 ij
0 27 u
0 2411
0 221;
0 20 5
190 181
0 16
0 13
0 11
11
Signs Signs
TABLE XVI.
The Moon's
Latitude in E-
clipses.
Arg. Moon’s
equated Di¬
stance from
the Node.
TABLE XVII. The Moon's hori%ontal Parallax,
the Semidiameters and true Horary Motions of the Su
and Moon, to every sixth degree of their mean Anoint
lies, the quantities for the intermediate degrees bm\
easily proportioned by sight.
■-i 2.0
5L n 2
b 3.
Signs.
North Ascend.
6 Signs.
South Descend.
Z B ¥
J5
31 J5
Signs Signs t
5 Signs
North Descend.
r854
54
1 054 56
214 59
6 55
c2 55
[855
55 4:
656
15 58
*5 59
1856
11 Signs.
South Ascend.
859
This Table
shows the
Moon’s Lati¬
tude a little
beyond the ut¬
most Limits of
Eclipses.
21
543
630
430
831
1231
31 4°
31 * 56
13 2632 17
15 3032 39
15 3633 11
l5
463
583
33 23
3 47
34 11
_4 34
34 58
4 16
935 22
16 1435 45
16 1936
16 24 3 6 20
460
16 2836 40
2. 8 »
28
II
10
irrety ;h
060 II
660 21
1260 30
i8j6o 38
2460 45
383'
60 4516 2316 3937 40 2 33 6
A S T R
lln° II* description of Astronomical Instruments serving to
lU' illustrate the Motions of the Heavenly Bodies.
iyi
struments.
The machine represented hy fig. 161. is the Grand
Orrery, first made in this kingdom by Mr Ilowley
for King George I. The frame of it, which contains
the wheel-work, &c. and regulates the whole machine,
is made of ebony, and about four feet in diameter; the
outside thereof is adorned with 12 pilasters. Between
these the 12 signs of the zodiac are neatly painted with
gilded frames. Above the frame is a broad ring sup¬
ported with 12 pillars. This ring represents the plane
of the ecliptic; upon which ye two circles of degrees,
and between these the names and characters of the 12
signs. Near the outside is a circle of months and days,
exactly corresponding to the sun’s place at noon each
day throughout the year. Above the ecliptic stand
some of the principal circles of the sphere, agreeable
to their respective situations in the heavens : viz. N°
10. are the two colures, divided into degrees and half
degrees; N° 11. is one-half the equinoctial circle,
making an angle of 2^\ degrees. The tropic of Can¬
cer and the arctic circle are each fixed parallel at their
proper distance from the equinoctial. On the north¬
ern half of the ecliptic is a brass semicircle, moveable
upon two points fixed in ‘Y> and sQ:. This semicircle
serves as a moveable horizon to be put to any degree
of latitude upon the north part of the meridian, and
the whole machine may be set to any latitude without
disturbing any of the internal motions, by two strong
hinges (N° 13.) fixed to the bottom-frame upon which
the instrument moves, and a strong brass arch, having
holes at every degree, through which a strong pin is
put at every elevation. This arch and the two hinges
support the whole machine when it is lifted up accord¬
ing to any latitude : and the arch at other times lies
conveniently under the bottom-frame. When the ma¬
chine is to be set to any latitude (which is easily done by
two men, each taking hold of two handles convenient¬
ly fixed for the purpose), set the moveable horizon to
the same degree upon the meridian, and hence you
may form an idea of the respective altitude or depres¬
sion of the planets both primary and secondary. The
sun (N° 1.) stands in the middle of the whole system
upon a wire, making an angle with the ecliptic of
about 82 degrees. Next the sun is a small ball (2.), re¬
presenting Mercury. Next to Mercury is Venus (3.),
represented by a larger balk The earth is represent¬
ed (N° 4.) by an ivory ball, having some circles and
a map sketched upon it. The wire which supports the
earth makes an angle with the ecliptic of 66^ degrees,
the inclination of the earth’s axis to the ecliptic. Near
the bottom of the earth’s axis is a dial-plate (N° 9.),
having an index pointing to the hours of the day as the
earth turns round its axis. Round the earth is a ring
supported by two small pillars, representing the orbit
of the moon ; and the divisions upon it answer to the
moon’s latitude. The motion of this ring represents
the motion of the moon’s orbit according to that of the
nodes. Within this ring is the moon (N° 5.), having
a black cap or case, by which its motion represents the
phases of the moon according to her age. Without the
orbits of the earth and moon is Mars (N° 6.). The
next in order to Mars is Jupiter and his four moons
o isr o M y.
(N° <7.). Each of these tiioohs is supported by a wire Dcscriptioa
fixed in a socket which turns about the pillar support- of Astiono-
ing Jupiter. These satellites may be turned by the ,,uca' bi¬
hand to any position, and yet when the machine is put
into motion, they will all move in their proper times.
The outermost of all is Saturn, his five moons and his
ring (N° 8.). These moons are supported and con¬
trived similar to those of Jupiter. The machine is put
into motion by turning a small winch (N° 14.) ; and
the whole system is also moved by this winch, and by
pulling out and pushing in a small cylindrical pin above
the handle. When it is pushed in, all the planets,
both primary and secondary, will move according to
their respective periods by turning the handle. When
it is drawn out, the motions of the satellites of Jupiter
and Saturn will be stopped, while all the rest move
without interruption. There is also a brass lamp, ha-
-ving two convex glasses to be put in room of the sun ;
and also a smaller earth and moon, made somewhat in
proportion to their distance from each other, which
may be put on at pleasure. The lamp turns round at
the same time with the earth, and tlie glasses of it cast
a strong light upon her ; and when the smaller earth
and moon are placed on, it will be easy to show when
either of them will be eclipsed. When this machine
is intended to be used, the planets must be duly placed
by means of an ephemeris hereafter described; ami you
may place a small black patch or bit of wafer upon
the middle of the sun. Right against the first degree
of T1, you may also place patches upon Venus, Mars,
and Jupiter, right against some noted point in the
ecliptic. Put in the handle, and push in the pin which
is above it. One turn of this handle answers to a re¬
volution of the ball which represents the earth about
its axis ; and consequently to 24 hours of time, as
shown by the hour index (9.), which is marked and
placed at the foot of the wire on which the ball of the
earth is fixed. Again, when the index has moved the
space of ten hours, Jupiter makes one revolution round
its axis, and so of the rest. By these means the revo¬
lutions of the planets, and their motions round their
own axes, will be represented to the eye. By observ¬
ing the motions of the spots upon the surface of the £un
and of the planets in the heavens, their diurnal rotation
was first discovered, after the same manner as we in this
machine observe the motions of their representatives by
that of the marks placed upon them.
The Orrery (fig. 162.) is a machine contrived by
the late ingenious Mr James Ferguson. It shows the
motions of the sun, Mercury, Venus, earth, and moon ;
and occasionally the superior planets, Mars, Jupiter,
and Saturn, may be put on. Jupiter’s four satellites
are moved round him in their proper times by a small
winch ; and Saturn has his five satellites, and his ring
which keeps its parallelism round the sun ; and by a
lamp put in the sun’s place, the ring shows all its va¬
rious phases already described.
In the centre, N° 1. represents the sun, supported
by its axis, inclining almost 8 degrees from the axis of
the ecliptic, and turning round in 25^ days on its axis,
of which the north pole inclines toward the eighth de¬
gree of Pisces in the great ecliptic (N° II.), where¬
on the months and days are engraven over the signs
and degrees in which the sun appears, as seen from the
earth, on the different days of the year.
Y 2
The
172 ASTRO
Description The nearest planet (N° 2.) to the sun is Mercury,
of 4strc>no- which goes round him in 87 days, 23 hours, or 87!^
mica! In- rotations,of the earth j but has no motion round
. ^ “ its axis in the machine, because the time of its diurnal
motion in the heavens is not known to us.
The next planet in order is Venus (N° 3.), which
performs her annual course in 224 days 17 hours, and
turns round her axis in 24 days 8 hours, or in 24^
diurnal rotations of the earth. Her axis inclines 75
degrees from the axis of the ecliptic, and her north
pole inclines towards the 20lh degree of Aquarius,
according to the observations of Bianchini. She shows
all the phenomena described in Part II.
Next, without the orbit of Venus, is the earth
(N0 4.) which turns round its axis, to any fixed point
at a great distance, in 23 hours 56 minutes 4 seconds
of mean solar time ; but from the sun to the sun again,
in 24 hours of the same time. N° 6. is a sidereal dial-
plate under the earth, and N° 7. a solar dial-plate on
the cover of the machine. The index of the former
shows sidereal, and of the latter, solar time ; and hence
the former index gains one entire revolution on the lat¬
ter every year, as 365 solar or natural days contain
366 sidereal days, or apparent revolutions of the stars.
In the time that the earth makes 365!: diurnal rota¬
tions on its axis, it goes once round the sun in the
plane of the ecliptic ; and always keeps opposite to a
moving index (N° 10.) which shows the sun’s daily
change of place, and also the days of the months.
The earth is half covered with a black cap, for di¬
viding the apparently enlightened half next the sun
from the other half, which, when turned away from
him, is in the dark. The edge of the cap represents
the circle bounding light and darkness, and shows at
what time the sun rises and sets to all places throughout
the year. The earth’s axis inclines 23! degrees from
- the axis of the ecliptic; the north pole inclines to¬
wards the beginning of Cancer, and keeps its parallel¬
ism throughout its annual course j so that in summer
the northern parts of the earth incline towards the sun,
and in winter from him : by which means, the differ¬
ent lengths of days and nights, and the cause of the va¬
rious seasons, are demonstrated to sight.
There is a broad horizon, to the upper side of which
is fixed a meridian semicircle in the north and south
points, graduated on both sides from the horizon to
900 in the zenith or vertical point. The edge of the
horizon is graduated from the east and west to the
south and north points, and within these divisions are
the points of the compass. From the lower side of
this thin horizontal plate stand out four small wires,
to which is fixed a twilight circle 18 degrees from the
graduated side of the horizon all round. This horizon
may be put upon the earth (when the cap is taken
away), and rectified to the latitude of any place j and
then by a small wire, called the solar ray, which may
be put on so as to proceed directly from the sun’s cen¬
tre towards the earth’s, but to come no farther than
almost to touch the horizon, the beginning of twi¬
light, time of sunrising, with his amplitude, meridian „
altitude, time of setting, amplitude then, and end of
twilight, are shown for every day of the year, at that
place to which the horizon is rectified.
The moon (N° 5.) goes round the earth, from be-
N O M Y.
Appendii Ai
tween it and any fixed point at a great distance, in 27 Descripi
days 7 hours 43 minutes, or through all the signs and of Astrom J}j
degrees of her orbit, which is called her periodical re- “deal in,
volution ; but she goes round from the sun to the sun ,Ululllcnli
again, or from change to change, in 29 days 12 hours
35 minutes, which is her synodical revolution ; and in
that time she exhibits all the phases already described.
When the above-mentioned horizon is rectified to
the latitude of any given place, the times of the moon’s
rising and setting, together with her amplitude, are
shown to that place as w'ell as the sun’s j and all the
various phenomena of the harvest-moon are made ob¬
vious to sight.
The moon’s orbit (N° 9.) is inclined to the ecliptic
(N° 11.) one half being above, and the other below
it. The nodes, or points at o and o, lie in the plane
of the ecliptic, as before described, and shift backward
through all its sines and degrees in 18-} years. The de¬
grees of the moon’s latitude to the highest at NL
(north latitude) and lowest at SL (south latitude),
are engraven both ways from her nodes at o and o,
and as the moon rises and falls in her orbit according
to its inclination, her latitude and distance from hep
nodes are shown for every day, having first rectified
her orbit so as to set the nodes to their proper places
in the ecliptic j and then as they come about at differ¬
ent and almost opposite times of the year, and then
point towards the sun, all the eclipses may be shown
for hundreds of years (without any new rectification)
by turning the machinery backward for time past, or
forward for time to come. At 17 degrees distance
from each node, on both sides, is engraved a small
sun ; and at 12 degrees distance, a small moon which
show the limits of solar and lunar eclipses •, and when,
at any change, the moon falls between either of these
suns and the node, the sun will be eclipsed on the day
pointed to by the annual index (N°io)j and as the
moon has then north or south latitude, one may easily
judge whether that eclipse will be visible in the north¬
ern or southern hemisphere : especially as the earth’s
axis inclines toward the sun or from him at that time.
And when at any full the moon falls between either of
the little moons and node, she will be eclipsed, and
the annual index shows the day of that eclipse. There
is a circle of 2p|- equal parts (N* 8.) on the cover of
the machine, on which an index shows the days of the
moon’s age.
There are two semicircles (fig. 163.) fixed to an el¬
liptical ring, which being put like a cap upon the
earth, and the forked part F upon the moon, shows
the tides as the earth turns round within them, and
they are led round it by the moon. When the difi’er-
ent places come to the semicircle A a E & B, they have
tides of flood ; and when they come to the semi¬
circle CED, they have tides of ebb 5 the index on the
hour-circle (fig. 162.) showing the times of these phe¬
nomena.
There is a jointed wire, of which one end being put
into a hole in the upright stem that holds the earth’s
cap, and the wire laid into a small forked piece which
may be occasionally put upon A enus or Mercury, shows
the direct and retrograde motions of these two planets,
with their stationary times and places as seen from the
earth.
The
endix. A S T R
The whole machinery is turned by a winch or handle
>no. (N° 12.) *, and is so easily moved, that a clock might
nio In- turn it without any danger of stopping.
To give a plate of the wheel-work of this machine
would answer no purpose, because many of the wheels
lie so behind others as to hide them from sight in any
view whatever.
The Planetarium (fig. 164.) is an instrument
contrived by Mr William Jones of Holborn, London,
mathematical instrument maker, who has paid consi¬
derable attention to those sort of machines, in order to
reduce them to their greatest degree of simplicity and
perfection. It represents in a general manner, by va¬
rious parts of its machinery, all the motions and phe¬
nomena of the planetary system. This machine con¬
sists of, the Sun (in the centre), with the planets,
Mercury, Venus, the Earth and Moon, Mars, Jupiter
and his four moons, Saturn and his five moons ; and to
it is occasionally applied an extra long arm for the
Georgian planet and his two moons. To the earth
and moon is applied a frame CD, containing only four
wheels and two pinions, which serve to preserve the
earth’s axis in its proper parallelism in its motion round
the sun, and to give the moon her due revolution about
the earth at the same time. These wheels are con¬
nected with the wheel-work in the round box below,
and the wheel is set in motion by the winch H. The
arm M that carries round the moon, points out on the
plate C her age and phases for any situation in her or¬
bit, and which accordingly are engraved thereon. In
the same manner the arm points out her place in the
ecliptic B, in signs and degrees, called her geocentric
place ; that is, as seen from the earth. The moon’s
orbit is represented by the flat rim A 5 the two joints
of which, and upon which it turns, denoting her
nodes. This orbit is made to incline to any desired
angle. The earth of this instrument is usually made
of a three inch or l|- globe, papered, &c. for the pur¬
pose -, and by means of the terminating wire that goes
over it, points out the changes of the seasons, and the
different lengths of days and nights more conspicuously.
This machine is also made to represent the Ptolemaic
System, or such as is vulgarly received 1 which places
the earth in the centre, and the planets and sun revol¬
ving about it. (It is done by an auxiliary small sun
and an earth, which change their places in the instru¬
ment). At the same time, it affords a most manifest
confutation of it: for it is plainly observed in this
construction, (1.) That the planets Mercury and Ve¬
nus, being both within the orbit of the sun, cannot at
any time be seen to go behind it $ whereas in nature
we observe them as often to go behind as before the
sun in the heavens. (2.) It shows, that as the planets
move in circular orbits about the central earth, they
ought at all times to be of the same apparent magni¬
tudes j whereas, on the contrary, we observe their ap¬
parent magnitude in the heavens to be very variable,
and so far different, that, for instance, Mars will some¬
times appear as big as Jupiter nearly, and at other
times you will scarcely know him from a fixed star.
(3.) It shows that any of the planets might be seen at
all distances from the sun in the heavens ; or, in other
words, that when the sun is setting, Mercury or Ve¬
nus may be seen not only in the south but even in the
eastj which circumstances were never yet observed.
O N O M Y. 173
(4.) You see by this planetarium that the motions of Description
the planets should always be regular and uniformly the of Astrono-
same j whereas, on the contrary, we observe them al-
ways to move with a variable velocity, sometimes faster, ,
then slower, and sometimes not at all, as will be pre¬
sently shown. (5.) By the machine you see the planets
move all the same way, viz. from west to east continual-
Iv: but in the heavens we see them move sometimes
direct from west to east, sometimes retrograde from east
to west, and at other times to be stationary. All which
phenomena plainly prove this system to be a false and
absurd hypothesis.
The truth of the Copernican or Solar System of the
world is hereby most clearly represented. For taking
the earth from the centre, and placing thereon the
usual large brass ball for the sun, and restoring tire
earth to its proper situation among the planets, then
every thing will be right, and agree exactly with celes¬
tial observations. For turning the winch H, (1.) You
will see the planets Mercury and Venus go both before
and behind the sun, or have two conjunctions. (2.)
You will observe Mercury never to be more than a cer¬
tain angular distance, 2i°, and Venus 47*, from the
sun. (3.) That the planets, especially Mars, will be
sometimes much nearer to the earth than at others, and
therefore must appear larger at one time than at an¬
other. (4.) You will see that the planets cannot ap¬
pear at the earth to move with an uniform velocity ; for
when nearest they appear to move faster, and slower
when most remote. (5.) You will observe the planets
will appear at the earth to move sometimes directly
from west to east, and then to become retrograde from
east to west, and between both to be stationary or with¬
out any apparent motion at all. Which particulars all
correspond exactly with observations, and fully prove
the truth of this excellent system. Fig. 165. represents
an apparatus to show these latter particulars more evi¬
dently. An hollow wire, with a slit at top, is placed
over the arm of the planet Mercury or Venus at E.
The arm DG represents a ray of light coming from the
planet at D to the earth, and is put over the centre
which carries the earth at F. The planets being then
put in motion, the planet D, as seen in the heavens
from the earth at F, will undergo the several changes of
position as above described. The wire prop that is over
Mercury at E, may be placed over the other superior
planets, Mars, See. and the same phenomena be exhi¬
bited.
By this machine you at once see all the planets in mo¬
tion about the sun, with the same respective velocities
and periods of revolution which they have in the hea¬
vens j the wheel-work being calculated to a minute of
time, from the latest discoveries..
You will see here a demonstration of the earth’s
motion about the sun, as well as those of the rest of
the planets : for if the earth were to be at rest in the
heavens, then the time between any two conjunctions
of the same kind, or oppositions, would be the same
with the periodical time of the planets, viz. 88 days
in Mercury, 225 in Venus, &c.; whereas you here
observe this time, instead of being 225 days, is no less
than 583 days in Venus, occasioned by the earth’s
moving in the mean time about the sun the same way
with the planet. And this space of 583 days always
passes between two like conjunctions of Venus in the
heavens*-.
174
Description heavens. Hence the most important point of astrenomy
of Astrono- is satisfactorily demonstrated,
mica! In- The diurnal rotation of the earth'about its axis, and
ttruments, ^ demonstration of the cause of the different seasons of
the year, and the different lengths of days and nights,
are here answered completely : for as the earth is placed
on an axis inclining to that of the ecliptic in an angle
of 2^ degrees, and is set in motion by the wheel-work,
there will be evidently seen the different inclination of
the sun’s rays on the earth, the different quantity there¬
of which falls on a given space, the different quantity
of the atmosphere they pass through, and the different
continuance of the sun above the horizon at the same
place in different times of the year; which particulars
constitute the difference betwixt heat and cold in the
summer and winter seasons.
As the globe of the earth is moveable about its in¬
clined axis, so by having the horizon of London drawn
upon the surface of it, and by means of the termina¬
ting wire going over it, by which is denoted, that on
that side of the wire next the sun is the enlightened
half of the earth, and the opposite side the darkened
half, you will here see very naturally represented the
cause of the different lengths of day and night, by ob¬
serving the unequal portions of the circle which the
island of Great Britain, or the city of London, or any
other place, describes in the light and dark hemispheres
at different times of the year, by turning the earth on
its axis with the hand. But in some of the better or¬
reries on this principle, the earth revolves about its axis
by wheel-work.
As to the eclipses of the sun and moon, the true
causes of them are here very clearly seen ; for by placing
the lamp (fig. 166.) upon the centre, in room of the
brass ball denoting the sun, and turning the winch until
the moon comes into a right line between the centres
of the lamp (or sun) and earth, the shadow of the moon
will fall upon the earth, and all who live on that part
over which the shadow passes, will see the sun eclipsed
more or less. On the other side, the moon passes (in the
aforesaid case) through the shadow of the earth, and is
by that means eclipsed. And the orbit A (fig. 164.) is
so moveable on the two joints called nodes that any per¬
son may easily represent the due position of the nodes
and intermediate spaces of the moon’s orbit; and thence
show when there will or will not be an eclipse of either
luminary, and what the quantity of each will be.
While the moon is continuing to move round the
earth, the lamp on the centre will so illumine the moon,
that you will easily see all her phases, as new, dichoto¬
mized, gibbous, full, waning, &c. just as they appear
in the heavens. You will moreover observe all the
same phases of the earth as they appear at the moon.
•Append,1 ji
The satellites of Jupiter and Saturn are moveable Descripti |
only by the hand ; yet may all their phenomena be ea-of Astrom j j
sily represented, excepting the true relative motions and micalln -
distances. Thus, if that gilt globe which before re- ,slrumtl1'1 itf®
presented the sun be made now to denote Jupiter, and ^
four of the primary planets only be retained, then will
the Jovian system he represented j and, by candle light
only, you will see (the machine being in motion) the
immersions and emersions of the satellites into and out
of Jupiter’s shadow. You will see plainly the manner
in which they transit his body, and their occultations
behind it. You will observe the various ways in which
one or more of these moons may at times disappear.
And if the machine be set by a white wall, &c. then
by the projection of their shadows will be seen the rea¬
sons why those moons always appear on each side of Ju¬
piter in a right line, why those which are most remote
may appear nearest, and e co?itrario. And the same
may be done for Saturn’s five moons and his ring.
The Method of Rectifijivg the Orrery, and the proper
Manner of placing the Planets in their true Situa¬
tions.
Having dwelt thus much on the description of orre¬
ries, it may be useful to young readers, to point out
the method by which the orrery should be first recti¬
fied, previous to the exhibition or using of it: and the
following is extracted from Mr William Jones’s descrip¬
tion of his new Portable Orrery. “ The method of
showing the places, and relative aspects of the planets
on any day of the year in the planetarium, must be
done by the assistance of an ephemeris or almanack,
which among other almanacks is published annually by
the Stationers Company.
“ The ephemeris contains a diary or daily account
of the planets places in the heavens, in signs, degrees,
and minutes, both as they appear to theVeye supposed
to be at the sun, and at the earth, throughout the
year. The first of these positions is called the helio¬
centric place, and the latter, the geocentric place. The
heliocentric place is that made use of in orreries j the
geocentric place, that in globes. As an example for
finding their places, and setting them right in the or¬
rery, we will suppose the ephemeris (by White, which
for this purpose is considered the best) at hand, where¬
in lat the bottom of the left-hand page for every month
is the heliocentric longitudes (or places) of all the pla¬
nets to every six days of the month $ which is near
enough for common use : A copy of one of these ta¬
bles for March 1784 is here inserted for the informa¬
tion of the tyro.
ASTRONOMY.
Day
11
35
59
23
47
Helioc.
long. 12
16 56
16 56
ty 7
17 17
17 28
Helioc.
long. %
17
17
18
18
*9
II
43
J5
47
J9
Helioc.
long. $
05 30
23
1S
6
55
Helioc.
long. ©
11 iijt 37
n
23
29
5
£b
37
36
33
3°
Helioc.
long. $
o /
10
r9
29
8 38
35
7
38
8
Helioc.
long. $
7 m 58
25
II /
28 33
l5 V? 49
“ Now
^plndix. A S T II
escAion “ Now as an example, we will suppose, that in order
Astfio- to set the planets of the orrery, we want their heliocen-
1 fiicaljn- t,.;c places for the 21 st of this month. Looking into
rU!iyts‘, the table, Ave take the 19th clay, which is the nearest
to the day wanted : then, accordingly, we find the place
of Saturn ( ), is in 170 17', or 17 degrees (rejecting
the minutes, being in this case useless) of Capricor-
nus j of Jupiter (It ) in 180 of Aquarius ( CS") ;
Mars ( 5 ) in 10° of Cancer (25) ; the earth (©) in
290 of Virgo (irg) ; Venus ( d ) in 290 of Sagittarius,
( / ); Mercury ( ^ ) in 28 degrees of tlie same sign; and
in the same manner for any other day therein specified.
Upon even this circumstance depends a very pleasing
astronomical praxis, by which the young tyro may at
any time be able to entertain himself in a most rational
and agreeable manner, viz. he may in a minute or
two represent the true appearance of the planetary sy¬
stem just as it really is in the heavens, and for any
day he pleases, by assigning to each planet its proper
place in its orbit; as in the following manner: For
the 19th of March, as before, the place of Saturn is in
170 of Capricornus (v^) ; now laying hold of the arm
of Saturn in the orrery, you place it over or against
the 170 of Capricorn on the ecliptic circle, constantly
placed on or surrounding the instrument; thus doing
the same for the other planets, they will have the pro¬
per heliocentric places for that day.
“ Now, in this situation of the planets, we observe,
that if a person was placed on the earth, he would see
Venus and Jupiter in the same line and place of the
ecliptic, consequently in the heavens they would ap¬
pear together or in conjunction ; Mercury a little to
the left or eastward of them, and nearer to the sun ;
Saturn to the right, or rvestward, farther from the
sun ; Mars directly opposite to Saturn ; so that when
Saturn appears in the west, Mars appears in the east,
and vice versa. Several other curious and entertaining
particulars, as depending on the above, may be easily
represented and shown by the learner; particularly the
foregoing when the winch is turned, and all the planets
set into their respective motions.”
We cannot close this detail on orreries more agree¬
ably than by the following account of an instrument
of that sort invented by Mr James Ferguson, to which
he gives the name of a Mechanical Paradox, and
which is actuated by means of what many, as he ob¬
serves, even good mechanics, Avould be ready to pro¬
nounce impossible, viz. That the teeth of one wheel,
taking equally deep into the teeth of three others,
should aftect them in such a manner, that in turning
it any Avay round its axi-, it should turn one of them
the same way, another the contrary way, and the third
no way at all.
The solution of the paradox is given under the arti¬
cle Mechanics ; after which our author proceeds to
give the following account of its uses. “ This ma¬
chine is so much of an orrery, as is sufficient to show
the different lengths of days and nights, the vicissitudes
of the seasons, the retrograde motion of the nodes of
the moon’s orbit, the direct motion of the apogeal
point of her orbit, and the months in which the sun
and moon must be eclipsed.
“ On the great immoveable plate A (see fig. 167.)
are the months and days of the year, and the signs and
degrees of the zodiac so placed, that tvken the annual
O N O M Y. 175
index h is brought to any given day of the year, it tvill Description
point to the degree of the sign in which the sun is onAstrono-
that day. The index is fixed to the moveable frame
BC, and is carried round the immoveable plate, with , ^■... .
it, by means of the knob n. The carrying this frame
and index round the immoveable plate, answers to the
earth’s annual motion round the sun, and to the sun’s
apparent motion round the ecliptic in a year.
“ The central wheel D (being fixed on the axis a,
which is fixed in the centre of the immoveable plate)
turns the thick wheel E round its own axis by the
motion of the frame ; and the teeth of the wheel E
take into the teeth of the three wheels F, G, H, whose
axes turn with one another, like the axes of the
hour, minute, and second hands of a clock or watch,
where the seconds are shown from the centre of the
dial-plate.
“ On the upper ends of these axes, are the round
plates I, K, L ; the plate I being on the axis of the
wheel F, K on the axis of G, and L on the axis of H.
So that whichever way these wheels are aflected, their
respective plates, and what they support, must be af¬
fected in the same manner ; each Avheel and plate be¬
ing independent of the others.
“ The two upright wires M and N are fixed into
the plate I; and they support the small ecliptic OP,
on which, in the machine, the signs and degrees of the
ecliptic are marked. This plate also supports the small
terrestrial globe e, on its inclining axis/’, which is fixed
into the plate near the foot of the wire N. This axis
inclines 23I- degrees from a right line, supposed to be
perpendicular to the surface of the plate I, and also to
the plane of the small ecliptic OP, which is parallel to
that plate.
“ On the earth e is the crescent g, which goes more
than half way round the earth, and stands perpendi¬
cular to the plane of the small ecliptic OP, directly
facing the sun Z: Its use is to divide the enlightened
half of the earth next the sun from the other half
which is then in the dark ; so that it represents the
boundary of light and darkness, and therefore ought
to go quite round the earth ; but cannot in a machine,
because in some positions the earth’s axis would fall
upon it. The earth may be freely turned round on its
axis by hand, within the crescent, which is supported
by the crooked ivire w, fixed to it, and into the upper
plate of the moveable frame BC.
“ In the plate K are fixed the Iavo upright Avires Q
and R: they support the moon’s inclined orbits ST in
its nodes, which are the two opposite points of the
moon’s orbit Avhere it intersects the ecliptic OP. The
ascending node is marked to which the descending
node is opposite below e, but hid from vieAV by the
globe e. The half £b T of this orbit is on the north
side of the ecliptic OP, and the other half e S £b is on
the south side of the ecliptic. The moon is not in this
machine; but when she is in either of the nodes of her
orbit in the heavens, she is then in the plane of the
ecliptic : Avhen she is at T in her orbit, she is in her
greatest north latitude; and when she is at S, she is in
her greatest south latitude.
“ In the plate L is fixed the crooked wire UP,
Avhich points doAvmvard to the small ecliptic OP, and
shows the motion of the moon’s apogee therein, and
its place at any given time.
“ The
Iy6
ASTRONOMY.
Appenjix,
Description u The ball Z represents the sun, which is supported
ot Astrouo-by the crooked wire XY, fixed into the upper plate of
struments" ^ie ^rame at X. A straight wire W proceeds from
the sun Z, and points always towards the centre of the
earth e ; but toward different points of its surface at
different times of the year, on account of the obliquity
of its axis, which keeps its parallelism during the earth’s
annual course round the sun Z ; and therefore must in¬
cline sometimes toward the sun, at other times from
him, and twice in the year neither toward nor from the
sun, but sidewise to him. The wire W is called the
solar ray.
“ As the annual-index h shows the sun’s place in
the ecliptic for every day of the year, by turning the
frame round the axis of the immoveable plate A, ac¬
cording to the order of the months and signs, the solar
ray does the same in the small ecliptic OP: for as this
ecliptic has no motion on its axis, its signs and degrees
still keep parallel to those on the immoveable plate.
At the same time, the nodes of the moon’s orbit ST
(or points where it intersects the ecliptic OP) are
moved backward, or contrary to the order of signs, at
the rate of 19-f degrees every Julian year $ and the
moon’s apogeal w'ire UU is moved forward, or accord¬
ing to the order of the signs of the ecliptic, nearly at
the rate of 41 degrees every Julian year j the year be¬
ing denoted by a revolution of the earth e round the
sun Z ; in which time the annual index h goes round
the circles of months and signs on the immoveable
plate A.
“ Take hold of the knob w, and turn the frame round
thereby ; and in doing this, you will perceive that the
north pole of the earth e is constantly before the cres¬
cent g, in the enlightened part of the earth toward
the sun, from the 20th of March to the 23d of Sep¬
tember 5 and the south pole all that time behind the
crescent in the dark j and from the 23d of September
to the 20th of March, the north pole as constantly in
the dark behind the crescent, and the south pole in the
light before it j which shows, that there is but one day
and one night at each pole, in the whole year j and
that when it is day at either pole, it is night at the'
other.
“ From the 20th of March to the 23d of September,
the days are longer than the nights in all those places
of the northern hemisphere of the earth which revolve
through the light and dark, and shorter in those of the
southern hemisphere. From the 23d of September to
the 20th of March, the reverse.
“ There are 24 meridian semicircles drawn on the
globe, all meeting in its poles : and as one rotation or
turn of the earth on its axis is performed in 24 hours,
each of these meridians is an hour distant from the
other, in every parallel of latitude. Therefore, if you
bring the annual index h to any given day of the year,
on the immoveable plate, you may see how long the
day then is at any place of the earth, by counting how
many of these meridians are in the light, or before the
crescent, in the parallel of latitude of that place j and
this number being subtracted from 24 hours, will leave
remaining the length of the night. And if you turn
the earth round its axis, all those places will pass di¬
rectly under the point of the solar ray, which the sun
passes vertically over on that day, because they are just
as many degrees north or south of the equator as the
sun’s declination is then from the equinoctial.
“ At the two equinoxes, viz. on the 20th of March
and 23d of September, the sun is in the equinoctial,
and consequently has no declination. On these dajs,
the solar ray points directly toward the equator, the
earth’s poles lie under the inner edge of the crescent,
or boundary of light and darkness ; and in every pa¬
rallel of latitude there are 12 of the meridians or hour-
circles before the crescent, and 12 behind it, which
shows that the days and nights then are each 12 hours
long at all places of the earth. And if the earth be
turned round its axis, you will see that all places on
it go equally through the light and the dark hemi¬
spheres.
“ On the 21st of June, the whole space within
the north polar circle is enlightened, which is 23^ de¬
grees from the pole, all around ; because the earth’s
axis then inclines 23^ degrees toward the sun : but the
whole space within the south polar circle is in the dark j
and the solar ray points toward the tropic of Cancer
on the earth, which is 23^ degrees north from the
equator. On the 2Cth of December the reverse hap¬
pens, and the solar ray points toward the tropic of
Capricorn, which is 24-5- degrees south from the equa¬
tor.
“ If you bring the annual-index h to the beginning of
January, and turn the moon’s orbit ST by its support¬
ing wires Q and R till the ascending node (marked £t)
comes to its place in the ecliptic OP, as found by an
ephemeris, or by astronomical tables, for the beginning
of any given year j and then move the annual index by
means of the knob n, till the index comes to any given
day of the year afterward, the nodes will stand against
their places in the ecliptic on that day 5 and if you
move on the index till either of the nodes comes di¬
rectly against the point of the solar ray, the index will
then be at the day of the year on which the sun is in
conjunction with that node. At the times of those
new moons, which happen within seventeen days of the
conjunction of the sun with either of the nodes, the
sun will be eclipsed; and at the times of those full
moons, which happen within twelve days of either of
these conjunctions, the moon will be eclipsed. Without
these limits there can be no eclipses either of the sun
or moon ; because, in nature, the moon’s latitude or de¬
clination from the ecliptic is too great for the moon’s
shadow to fall on any part of the earth, or for the earth’s
shadow to touch the moon.
“ Bring the annual-index to the beginning of Janu¬
ary, and set the moon’s apogeal wire UU to its place
in the ecliptic for that time, as found by astronomical
tables ; then move the index forward to any given
day of the year, and the wire will point on the small
ecliptic to the place of the moon’s apogee for that
time.
“ The earth’s axis ^inclines always toward the be¬
ginning of the sign Cancer on the small ecliptic OP.
And if you set either of the moon’s nodes, and her
apogeal wire to the beginning of that sign, and turn
the plate A about, until the earth’s axis inclines to¬
ward any side of the room (suppose the north side),
and then move the annual-index round and round the
immoveable plate A, according to the order of the
months
Desc
of As-
tnies
strun
111
ppendix.
1 »crii)t!on months an«! signs upon it, you will see that the earth’s
Astrono-axis and beginning of Cancel’ will still keep towards the
ical In- same side of the room, without the least deviation from
U!li£nt‘" it but the nodes Of the moon’s orbit ST will turn
progressively towards all the sides of the room, con»
trary to the order of signs in the small ecliptic OP,
or from east, by south, to west, and so on j and the
apogeal wire UU will turn the contrary way to the
motion of the nodes, or according to the order of the
signs in the small ecliptic, from west, by south, to east,
and so on quite round. A clear proof that the wheel
F, which governs the earth’s axis and the small eclip¬
tic, does not turn any way round its own centre j that
the wheel G, which governs the moon’s orbit OP,
turns round its own centre backward, or contrary both
to the motion of the frame BC and thick wheel E ;
and that the wheel H, which governs the moon’s apo-
geal wire UU, turns round its own centre forward, or
in direction both of the motion of the frame and of the
thick wheel E, by which the three wheels F, G, and
H, are affected.
“ The wheels D, E, and F, have each 39 teeth in
the machine j the wheel G has 37, and H 44.
“ The parallelism of the earth’s axis is perfect in this
machine j the motion of the apogee very nearly so ; the
motion of the nodes not quite so near the truth, though
they will not vary sensibly therefrom in one year. But
they cannot be brought nearer, unless larger wheels,
with higher numbers of teeth, are used.
“ In nature, the moon’s apogee goes quite round the
ecliptic in 8 years and 312 days, in the direction of the
earth’s annual motion j and the nodes go round the
ecliptic, in a contrary direction, in 18 years and 225
days. In the machine, the apogee goes round the
ecliptic OP in eight years and four-fifths of a year,
and the nodes in 18 years and a half.”
The Cometarium, (fig. 168.). This curious ma¬
chine shows the motion of a comet or eccentric body
moving round the sun, describing equal areas in equal
times, and may be so contrived as to show such a mo¬
tion for any degrees of eccentricity. It was invented
by the late Dr Desaguliers.
The dark elliptical groove round the letters abed
tfghiklm is the orbit of the comet Y $ this comet
is carried round in the groove according to the order
of letters, by the wire W fixed in the sun S, and slides
on the wire as it approaches nearer to or recedes far¬
ther from the sun, being nearest of all in the perihe¬
lion a, and farthest in the aphelion g. The areas,
o*SZ>, £Sc, c S J, &c. or contents of these several
triangles, are all equal •, and in every turn of the winch
Y, the comet Y is carried over one of these areas ;
consequently, in as much time as it moves from f to
gi or from g to //, it moves from m to a, or from a to
b ; and so of the rest, being quickest of all at a, and
slowest at g. Thus the comet’s velocity in its orbit
continually decreases from the perihelion a to the aphe¬
lion g j and increases in the same proportion from g
to a.
The ecliptic orbit is divided into 12 equal parts or
signs, with their respective degrees, and so is the
circle nopqrstu, which represents a great circle in
the heavens, and to which the comet’s motion is re¬
ferred by a small knob on the point of the wire W.
Whilst the comet moves from Z' to in its orbit, it
Vot. III. Part I. f
ASTRONOMY.
177
appears to move only about five degrees in this circle, Description
as is shown by the small knob on the end of the wire of Astiouo-
W j but in as short time as the comet moves from m to ,"‘ca* ll''
«, or from a to b, it appears to describe the large space l'uull^:ilU',
tn or no in the heavens, either of which spaces con¬
tains 120 degrees, or four signs. Were the eccentricity
of its orbit greater, the greater still would be the differ¬
ence of its motion, and vice versa.
ABCDEFGH1KLM is a circular orbit for showing
the equable motion of a body round the sun S, describ¬
ing equal areas ASB, BSC, &c. in equal times with
those of the body Y in its elliptical orbit above men¬
tioned $ but with this difference, that the circular mo¬
tion describes the equal arcs AB, BC, &c. in the same
equal times that the elliptical motion describes the un¬
equal arcs ab, be, &c.
Now suppose the two bodies Y and 1 to start from
the points a and A at the same moment of time, and,
each having gone round its respective orbit, to arrive
at these points again at the same instant, the body Y
will be forwarder in its orbit than the body I all the
way from a to g, and from A to G: but I will be
forwarder than Y through all the other half of the or¬
bit j and the difference is equal to the equation of the
body Y in its orbit. At the points o A, and gG,
that is, in the perihelion and aphelion, they will
be equal $ and then the equation vanishes. This shows
why the equation of a body moving in an elliptic orbit
is added to the mean or supposed circular motion from
the perihelion to the aphelion, and subtracted from the
aphelion to the perihelion, in bodies moving round the
sun, or from the perigee to the apogee, and from the
apogee to the perigee in the moon’s motion round the
earth.
This motion is performed in the following manner by
the machine, fig. 169. ABC is a wooden bar (in the
box containing the wheel-work), above which are the
wheels D and E, and below it the elliptic plates FF
and GG; each plate being fixed on an axis in one of its
focuses, at E and K; and the wheel E is fixed on the
same axis with the plate FF. These plates have grooves
round their edges precisely of equal diameters to one
another, and in these grooves is the cat-gut string gg,gg
crossing between the plates at b. On H, the axis of
the handle or winch N in fig, 216, is an endless screw-
in fig. 217. working in the wheels D and E, whose
numbers of teeth being equal, and should be equal to
the number of lines, «S, 6 S, c S, &c. in fig. 168.
they turn round their axis in equal times to one an¬
other, and to the motion of the elliptic plates. For,
the wheels D and E having equal numbers of teeth, the
plate FF being fixed on the same axis with the wheel
E, and turning the equally big plate GG by a cat-gut
string round them both, they must all go round their
axis in as many turns of the handle N as either of the
wheels has teeth.
It is easy to see, that the end b of the elliptical
plate FF being farther from its axis E than the oppo¬
site end I is, must describe a circle so much the larger
in proportion, and therefore move through so much
more space in the same time ; and for that reason the
end b moves so much faster than the end I, although
it goes no sooner round the centre E. But then the
quick-moving end A of the plate FF leads about the
shoit end b K of the plate GG with the same velocity ;
■Z and
373
Description
of Aotrono-
inical In¬
struments.
429
Celestial
globe.
ASTRO
and the slow-moving end I of the plate FF coming
half round as to B, must then lead the long end k
of the plate GG as slowly about: so that the elliptical
plate FF and its axis E move uniformly and equally
quick in every part of its revolution : but the elliptical
plate GG, together with its axis K, must move very
unequally in different parts of its revolution j the diffe¬
rence being always inversely as the distance of any
point of the circumference of GG from its axis at K :
or in other words, to instance in two points, if the di¬
stance K & be four, five, or six times as great as the
distance K h, the point h will move in that position,
four, five, or six times as fast as the point k does,
when the plate GG has gone half round ; and so on for
any other eccentricity or diflerence of the distances K k
and K/z. I he tooth I on the plate FF falls in between
the two teeth at k on the plate GG; by which means
the revolution of the latter is so adjusted to that of the
former, that they can never vary from one another-.
On the top of the axis of the equally-moving wheel
D in fig. 169. is the sun S in fig. 168.: which sun,
by the wire fixed to it, carries the ball I round the
circle ABC1), &c. with an equable motion, accord¬
ing to the order of the letters : and on the top of the
axis K of the unequally-moving ellipses GG, in fig. 169.
is the sun S in fig. 168. carrying the ball Y unequally
round in the elliptical groove abed, &c. N. B. This
elliptical groove must be precisely equal and similar to
the verge of the plate GG, which is also equal to that
of FF.
In this manner machines may be made to show the
true motion of the moon about the earth, or of any
planet above the sun, by making the elliptical plates of
the same eccentricities, in proportion to the radius, as
the orbits of the planets are, whose motions they re¬
present ; and so their different equations in different
parts of their orbits may be made plain to sight, and
cleai-er ideas of these motions and equations acquired in
half an hour, than could be gained from reading half a
day about such motions and equations.
The Improved Celestial Globe, fig. 170. On
the north pole of the axis, above the hour-circle, is
fixed an arch MKH of 23^ degrees; and at the end
FI is fixed an upright pin HG, which stands directly
over the north pole of the ecliptic, and perpendicular
to that part of the surface of the globe. On this
pin are two moveable collets at E and FI, to which
are fixed the quadrantile wires 1M and O, having two
little balls on their ends for the sun and moon, as in
the figure. The collet D is fixed to the circular plate
F, whereon the 29J days of the moon’s age are engra¬
ven, beginning just under the sun’s wire N; and as
this wire is moved round the globe, the plate F turns
round with it. These wires are easily turned, if the
screw G be slackened ; and when they are set to
their proper places, the screw serves to fix them
there, so as in turning the ball of the globe, the wires
with the sun and moon go round with it; and these
two little balls rise and set at the same times, and on
the same points of the horizon, for the day to which
they are rectified, as the sun and moon do in the hea¬
vens.
Because the moon keeps not her course in the eclip¬
tic (as the sun appears to do) but has a declination of
5t degrees on each side from it in every lunation, her
2
N O M Y. Appefcj
ball may be screwed as many degrees to either side of])e
the ecliptic as her latitude or declination from the eclip. of r,
tic amounts to at any given time. m In.
The horizon is supported by two semicircular
arches, because pillars would stop the progress of the
balls when they go below the horizon in an oblique
sphere.
To rectify this globe. Elevate the pole to the lati¬
tude of the place ; then bring the sun’s place in the
ecliptic for the given day to the brazen meridian, and
set the hour index at 12 at noon, that is, to the upper
12 on the hour circle ; keeping the globe in that situa¬
tion, slacken the screw G, and set the sun directly over
his place on the meridian ; which done, set the moon’s
wire under the number that expresses her age for that
day on the plate F, and she will then stand over her
place in the ecliptic, and show what constellation she
Lastly, fasten the screw G, and adjust the moon
is in.
to her latitude, and the globe will be rectified.
Having thus rectified the globe, turn it round, and
observe on what point of the horizon the sun and
moon balls rise and set, for these agree with the
points of the compass on which the sun and moon
rise and set in the heavens on the given day ; and the
hour index shows the time of their rising and setting:
and likewise the time of the moon’s passing over the
meridian.
This simple apparatus shows all the varieties that can
happen in the rising and setting of the sun and moon ;
and makes the forementioned phenomena of the har¬
vest moon plain to the eye. It is also very useful in
reading lectures on the globes, because a large com¬
pany can see this sun and moon go round, rising above
and setting below the horizon at different times, ac¬
cording to the seasons of the year: and making their
appulses to different fixed stars. But in the usual way,
where there is only the places of the sun and moon in
the ecliptic to keep the eye upon, they are easily lost
sight of, unless they be covered with patches.
1 he IRAjectorium Lunare, fig. 171, This ma-Tl'flj
chine is for delineating the paths of the earth and™
moon, showing what sort of curves they make in the
ethereal regions. S is the sun, and E the earth, whose
centres are 95 inches distant from each other ; every
inch answering to 1000,000 of miles. M is the moon,
!
whose centre is parts of an inch from the earth’s
in this machine, this being in just proportion to the
moon s distance from the earth. AA is a bar of wood,
to be moved by hand round the axis^ which is fixed
in the wheel Y. The circumference of this wheel is to
the circumference of the small wheel L (below the
other end of the bar) as 365! days is to 29J, or as a
yeai is to a lunation, i he wheels are grooved round
their edges, and in the grooves is the cat-gut string
GG crossing between the wheels at X. On the axis of
the wheel L is the index I, in which is fixed the
moon’s axis M for carrying her round the earth E
(fixed on the axis of the wheel L) in the time that the
index goes round a circle of 29F equal parts, which are
the days of the moon’s age. Ihe wheel V has the
months and days of the year all round its limb; and
in the bar AA is fixed the index /, which points out
the days oi the months answering the days of the
moon s age, shown by the index F, in the circle of
29£ equal parts at the other end of the bar. On
the
Wipendk.
axI's ^ie w^ee^ L *s P11^ ^ie piece D, below
of i\stnmo tbe cock C, in which this axis turns round ; and in
a! In- D are put tiie pencils e and ??i directly under the earth
ASTRONOMY. 179
between the horizon and the zenith, as well to the Description
, lit1
northward as southward.
This place, called an Observatory, should contain
,1 menu £ anrf moon M j so that m is carried round <? as M is some, if not all, of the following instruments
round E.
Lay the machine on an even floor, pressing gently
on the wheel Y, to cause its spiked feet (of which two
appear at P and P, the third being supposed to be hid
from sight by the wheel) enter a little into the floor to
secure the wheel from turning. Then lay a paper about
four feet long under the pencils e and m, crosswise to
the bar •, which done, move the bar slowly round the
axis g of the wheel Y , and as the earth D goes round
the sun S, the moon M will go round the earth with
a duly proportioned velocity j and the friction wheel
W running on the floor, will keep the bar from bearing
too heavily on the pencils e and m, which will deline¬
ate the paths of the earth and moon. As the index
I points out the days of the months, the index F shows
the moon’s age on these days, in the circle of 29^
equal parts. And as this last index points to the dif¬
ferent days in its circle, the like numerical figures may
be set to those parts of the curves of the earth’s path
and moon’s where the pencils e and m are at those
times respectively, to show the places of the earth and
moon. If the pencil e be pushed a very little off, as
if from the pencil m, to about ^ part of their di¬
stance, and the pencil m pushed as much towards *>, to
bring them to the same distances again, though not
to the same points of space \ then, as m goes round
e, e will go as it were round the centre of gravity be¬
tween the earth e and moon m ; but this motion will
not sensibly alter the figure of the earth’s path or the
moon’s.
If a pin, as p, be put through the pencil m, with its
head towards that of the pin q in the pencil c-, its
head will always keep thereto as m goes round e,
or as the same side of the moon is still obverted to
the earth. But the piny?, which may be considered as
an equatorial diameter of the moon, will turn quite
round the point m, making all possible angles with
the line of its progress, or line of the moon’s path.
This is an ocular proof of the moon’s turning round
her axis.
III. A Description of the principal Astronomical In¬
struments by winch Astronomers make the most ac¬
curate Observations.
By practical astronomy is implied the knowledge of
observing the celestial bodies with respect to their po¬
sition and time of the year, and of deducing from those
observations certain conclusions useful in calculating
the time when any proposed position of these bodies
shall happen.
For this purpose, it is necessary to have a room or
place conveniently situated, suitably contrived, and fur¬
nished with proper astronomical instruments. It should
have an uninterrupted view from the zenith down to
(or even below) the horizon, at least towards its car¬
dinal points ; and for this purpose, that part of the
roof which lies in the direction of the meridian, in par¬
ticular, should have moveable covers, which may easily
be moved and put on again by which means an in¬
strument may be directed to any point of the heavens
I. A Pendulum Clock, for showing equal time.
This should show time in hours, minutes and seconds j
and with which the observer, by hearing the beats of
the pendulum, may count them by his ear, while his
eye is employed on the motion of the celestial object
he is observing. Just before the object arrives at the
position described, the observer should look on the
clock and remark the time, suppose it 9 hours 15 mi¬
nutes 25 seconds : then saying, 25, 26, 27, 28, &c.
responsive to the beat of the pendulum, till he sees
through the instrument the object arrived at the posi¬
tion expected j which suppose to happen when he says
38, he then writes down 9 h. 15 min. 38 sec. for the
time of observation, annexing the year and the day of
the month. If two persons are concerned in making
the observation, one may read the time audibly while
the other observes through the instrument, the observer
repeating the last second read when the desired position
happens.
II. An Achromatic Refracting Telescope,
or a REFLECTING one, of two feet at least in length,
for observing particular phenomena. These instruments
are particularly described under Optics.
_ HI- A Micrometer, for measuring small angular
distances. See Micrometer.
IV. Astronomical Quadrants, both mural and Quadrants,
portable, for observing meridian and other altitudes of
the celestial bodies.
1. The mural quadrant is in the form of a quarter
of a circle, contained under two radii at right angles
to one another, and an arch equal to one fourth part of
the circumference of the circle. It is the most useful
and valuable of all the astronomical instruments ; and
as it is sometimes fixed to the side of a stone or brick
wall, and the plane of it erected exactly in the plane
of the meridian, it in this case receives the name of
mural quadrant or arch.
Tycho Brahe was the first person who contrived this
mural arch, viz. who first applied it to a wall j and
Mr Flamstead, the first in England who, with indefa¬
tigable pains, fixed one up in the royal observatory at
Greenwich.
These instruments have usually been made from five
to eight feet radius, and executed by those late cele¬
brated artists Sisson, Graham, Bird, and other eminent
mathematical ^instrument makers in London. The
construction of them being generally the same in all
the sizes, we shall here describe one made by the
late Joh. Sisson, under the direction of the late Mr
Graham. Fig. 172. represents the instrument as al¬
ready fixed to the wall. It is of copper, and of about
five feet radius. The frame is formed of flat bars, and
strengthened by edge bars affixed underneath perpen¬
dicularly to them. The radii HB, HA, being divid¬
ed each into four equal parts, serve to find out the
points D and E, by which the quadrant is freely sus¬
pended on its props or iron supports that are fastened
securely in the wall. ,
One of the supports E is represented separately in e
on one side of the quadrant. It is moveable by means
of a long slender rod EF or e/, which goes into a hol-
Z 2 low
180 A 8 T R
DesciipJoti low screw in order to restore the instrument to its si-
^tiic ^l I i° rpl.^0n 'vuen ^ *s discovered to be a little deranged,
ttruments. V**3 ma^ ^no’vn the very fine perpendicular
i.—y  tnread IJA, which ought always to coincide with
the same point A of the limb, and carefully examined
to he so by a small magnifying telescope at every
observation. In order to prevent the unsteadiness of
so great a machine, there should be placed behind the
limb lour copper ears with double cocks, I, K, I, K.
There are others along the radii HA and HB.
Itach of these cocks contains two screws, into which
are fastened the ears that are fixed behind the qua¬
drant.
Over the wall or stone which supports the instrument,
and at the same height as the centre, is placed horizon¬
tally the axis PO, which is perpendicular to the plane
ol the instrument, and which would pass through the
centre if it was continued. The axis turns on two
pivots P. On this axis is fixed at right angles ano¬
ther branch ON, loaded at its extremity with a weight
Iv capable of equipoising with its weight that of the
telescope LM ; whilst the axis, by its extremity nearest
the quadrant, carries the wooden frame PRM, which
is fastened to the telescope in M. The counterpoise
takes oil from the observer the weight of the telescope
when he raises it, and hinders him from either forcing
or straining the instrument.
The lower extremity (V) of the telescope is fur¬
nished with two small wheels, which takes the limb of
the quadrant on its two sides. The telescope hardly
bears any more upon the limb than the small friction of
these two wheels; which renders its motion so ex¬
tremely easy and pleasant, that by giving it with the
hand only a small motion, the telescope will run of it¬
self oyer a great part of the limb, balanced by the coun¬
terpoise N.
When the telescope is to be stopped at a certain po¬
sition, the copper hand T is to be made use of, which
embraces the limb and springs at the bottom. It is
fixed by setting a screw, which fastens it to the limb,
ihen, in turning the regulating screw, the telescope
will be advanced j which is continued until the star or
other object whose altitude is observing be on the
horizontal fine thread in the telescope. Then on the
plate X supporting the telescope, and carrying a ver¬
nier or nonius, will be seen the number of degrees and
minutes, and even quarters of minutes, that the angu¬
lar height of the obj'ect observed is equal to. The re-
maindei is easily estimated within two or three seconds
nearly.
There are several methods of subdividing the divi¬
sions of a mural quadrant, which are usually from five
to ten minutes each j but that winch is most common¬
ly adopted is by the vernier or nonius, the contrivance
°f Peter Vernier a I renchman. This vernier consists
of a piece of copper or brass CDAB (fig. 173.),
which is a small portion of X (fig. 172.) represented
separately. The length CD is divided into 20 equal
parts, and placed contiguously on a portion of the di¬
vision of the limb of the quadrant containing 21 divi¬
sions, and thereby dividing this length into 20 equal
parts, i bus the first division of the vernier piece mark-
ed 15, beginning at the point D, is a little matter back¬
ward, or to the left of the first division of the limb equal
to 15.. The second division of the vernier is to the left
a.
O N O M Y. Apper
of the second division of the limb double of the first p)eS(
difference, 01-30"$ and so on unto the 20th and last of a J
division on the left of the vernier piece $ where the 20 ni>c 1
differences being accumulated each of the 20th part of stru 1
the division of the limb, this last division will be found
lid
lii
to agree exactly with the 21st division on the limb of
the quadrant.
The index must be pushed the 20th part of a divi¬
sion, or 15", to the right $ for to make the second di¬
vision on the vernier coincide with one of the divisions
of the limb, in like manner is moving two 20ths, or
30", we must look at the second division of the index,
and there will be a coincidence with a division of the
limb. Thus may be conceived that the beginning D
of the vernier, which is always the line of reckoning,
has advanced two divisions, or 30", to the right, when
the second division, marked 30 on the vernier, is seen
to correspond exactly with one of the lines of the qua¬
drant.
By means of this vernier may be readily distin¬
guished the exactitude of 15" of the limb of a qua¬
drant five feet radius, and simply divided into 5'. By
an estimation by the eye, afterwards, the accuracy of
two or three seconds may be easily judged. On the
side of the quadrant is placed the plate of copper which
carries the telescope. This plate carries two verniers.
The outer line CD divides five minutes into 20 parts,
or 15" each. The interior line AB answers to the
parts of another division not having 90°, but 96 parts,
of the quadrant. It is usually adopted by English
astronomers on account of the facility of its subdivi-
sions. Each of the 96 portions of the quadrant is
equivalent to 56' 15" of the usual divisions. It is di- |
vided on the limb into 16 parts, and the arch of the
vernier AB contains 25 of these divisions $ and being
divided itself into 24, immediately gives parts, the va¬
lue of each of which is 8" 47-f"'. From this mode a
table of reduction may easily be constructed, which
will serve to find the value of this second mode of di¬
viding in degrees, minutes, and seconds, reckoning in
the usual manner, and to have even the advantage of
two different modes $ which makes an excellent verifi¬
cation of the divisions on the limb of the quadrant and
observed heights by the vernier.
2. The Portabk Astfvjnomical Quadrant, is that instru¬
ment of all others which astronomers make the greatest
use of, and have the most esteem for. They are gene¬
rally made from 12 to 23 inches. Fig. j 74. is a re¬
presentation of the improved modern one, as made by
the late Mr Sisson and by the present mathematical
instrument makers. I his is capable of being carried
to any part of the world, and put up for observation
in an easy and accurate manner. It is made of brass,
and strongly framed together by crossed perpendicular,
bars. The arch AC, and telescope EF, are divided,
and constructed in a similar manner to the mural qua¬
drant, but generally without the division of 96 parts..
I he counterpoise to the telescope T is represented at
P, and also another counterpoise to the quadrant itself
at P.. The quadrant is fixed to a long axis, which
goes into the pillar KR. Upon this axis is fixed an
index, which points to and subdivides by a vernier the.
divisions of the azimuth circle K. This azimuth circle
is extremely useful for taking the azimuth of a cele¬
stial body at the same time its altitude is observed*
The
^Appendix.
^captionThe upper end of the axis is firmly connected with the
ni'pistrono-adjusting frame GH ; and the pillar is supported on the
tin, )cal Ilu crossed feet at the bottom of the pillar KR with the ad-
^*iJ"ients, justing screws a, b, c, d.
When this instrument is set up for use or observa¬
tion, it is necessary that two adjustments he very accu¬
rately made : One, that the plane or surface of the in¬
strument be truly perpendicular to the horizon ; the
other, that the line supposed to be drawn from the
centre to the first line of the limb, he truly on a level
or parallel with the horizon. The first of these par¬
ticulars is done by means of the thread and plum¬
met p ; the thread of which is usually of very fine sil¬
ver wire, and it is placed opposite to a mark made up¬
on the end of the limb of the instrument. The four
screws at the loot, a, b, c, d, are to be turned until a
perfect coincidence is observed of the thread upon the
mark, which is accurately observed by means of a small
telescope T, that fits to the limb. The other adjust¬
ment is effected by means of the spirit level L, which
applies on the frame GH, and the small screws turned
I as before until the bubble of air in the level settles in
the middle of the tube. The dotted tube EB is a
kind ol prover to the instrument: for by observing at
what mark the centre of it appears against, or by put-
ting up a mark against it, it will at any time discover
if the instrument has been displaced. The screw S at
the index, is the regulating or adjusting screw, to move
the telescope and index, during the observation, with
1 ,2 the utmost nicety.
Atonal . ^- Astronomical or Equatorial Sector. This
km. is an instrument for finding the difference in right as¬
cension and declination between two objects, the di¬
stance of which is too great to be observed by the mi¬
crometer. It was the invention of the late ingenious
Mr George Graham, F. R. S. and is constructed from
the following particulars. Let AB (fig. 175.) repre¬
sent an arch of a circle containing 10 or 12 degrees
well divided, having a strong plate CD for its radius,
fixed to the middle ol the arch at D : let this radius
be applied to the side of an axis HFI, and be move-
able about a joint fixed to it at F, so that the plane of
the sector may be always parallel to the axis HI j
which being parallel to the axis of the earth, the plane
of the sector will always be parallel to the plane of
some hour-circle. Let a telescope CE be moveable
about the centre C of the arch AB, from one end of
it to the other, by turning a screw at G ; and let the
line of sight be parallel to the plane of the sector.
Now, by turning the whole instrument about the axis
HI, till the plane ol it be successively directed, first to
one of the stars and then to another, it is easy to move
the sector about the joint F, into such a position, that
the arch AB, when fixed, shall take in both the stars
in their passage, by the plane of it, provided the differ¬
ence of their declinations does not exceed the arch AB.
Then, having fixed the plane of the sector a little to
the westward of both the stars, move the telescope CE
by the screw G ; and observe by a clock the time of
each transit over the cross hairs, and also the degrees
and minutes upon the arch AB, cut by the index at
each transit ; then in the difterence of the arches, the
diflerence of the declinations, and by the dift’erence of
the times, we have the difterejice of the right ascensions,
of the stars.
I 8l
The dimensions of this instrument are thefce : The Description
length of the telescope, or the radius of the sector, isof Astrono-
2^ feet ; the breadth of the radius, near the end C, is m'ca* *n*
if inch ; and at the end D two inches. The breadth
ol the limb AB is if inch ; and its length six inches,
containing ten degrees divided into quarters, and num¬
bered from either end to the other. The telescope car¬
ries a nonius or subdividing plate, whose length, being
equal to sixteen quarters of a degree, is divided into fif¬
teen eq*'al parts j which, in effect, divides the limb in¬
to minutes, and, by estimation, into smaller parts. The
length of the square axis HIF is eighteen inches, and
of the part HL twelve inches; and its thickness is about
a quarter of an inch : the diameters of the circles are
each five inches : the thickness of the plates, and the
other measures, may be taken at the direction of a work¬
man.
This instrument may be rectified, for making obser¬
vations, in this manner: By placing the intersection
of the cross hairs at the same distance from the plane
of the sector, as the centre of the object-glass, the plane
described by the line of sight, during the circular mo¬
tion ol the telescope upon the limb, will be sufficiently
true, or free from conical curvity ; which may he exa¬
mined by suspending a long plumb-line at a convenient
distance from the instrument; and by fixing the plane
of the sector in a vertical position, and then by observ¬
ing, while the telescope is moved by the screw along
the limb, whether the cross hairs appear to move along
the plumb-line.
Ihe axis bfo may be elevated nearly parallel to the
axis of the earth, by means of a small common qua¬
drant ; and its error may be corrected, by making the
line of sight follow the circular motion of any of the
circumpolar stars, while the whole instrument is moved
about its axis h fo^ the telescope being fixed to the
limb ; for this purpose, let the telescope A: / be direct¬
ed to the star a, when it passes over the highest point
of its diurnal circle, and let the division cut by the
nonius be then noted ; then, after twelve hours, when
the star comes to the lowest point of its circle, having
turned the instrument half round its axis, to bring the
telescope into the position m n; if the cross hairs cover
the same star supposed at b, the elevation of the axis
hfo is exactly right; hut if it be necessary to move
the telescope into the position u v, in order to point to
this star at c, the arch in u, which measures the angle
mfu or b fc, will be known; and then the axis hf o
must be depressed half the quantity of this given angle
if the star passed below b, or must be raised so much
higher it above it; and then the trial must he repeat¬
ed till the true elevation of the axis be obtained. Bv
making the like observations upon the same star on
each side the pole, in the six-o’clock hour circle, the
error of the axis, toward the east or west, may also be
found and corrected, till the cross hairs follow the star,
qui te round the pole ; for supposing a 0p b c to be an
arch of the meridian (or in the second practice of the,
six-o’clock hour circle), make the angle afp equal to
half the angle a fc, and the line f p will point to the.
pole ; and the angle 0f p, which is the error of the
axis, will be equal to half the angle bfc, or mfu,
found by the observation ; because the difference of
the two angles afb, afc, is double the difference
of. their halves cifo and afp. Unless the star ba
very y
ASTRONOM Y.
102
ASTRO
struments.
4.33
tJcsciiption very near the pole, allowance must be made for refrac-
of Astiono- tlons.
n)Ical Ill‘ VI. Transit and Equal Altitude Instruments.
I. The Transit Instrument Is used for observing ob-
t.io jects as they pass over the meridian. It consists of a
Transit In-telescope fixed at right angles to a horizontal axis;
strumeuts. vvliich axis must be so supported that what is called the
line of collimation, or line of sight of the telescope,
may move in the plane of the meridian. This instru¬
ment was first made by the celebrated Mr Ro*mer in
the year 1689, and has since received great improve¬
ments. It is made of various sizes, and of large dimen¬
sions in our great observatories ; but the following is
one of a size sufficiently large and accurate for all the
useful purposes.
I he axis AB (fig. 176.)} to which the middle of
the telescope is fixed, is about feet long, tapering
gradually towards its ends, which terminate in cylin¬
ders well turned and smoothed. The telescope CD,
which is about four feet long, and 14 inch diameter, is
connected with the axis by means of a strong cube or
die G, and in which the two cones MQ, forming the
axis, are fixed. This cube or stock G serves as the
principal part of the whole machine. It not only
keeps together the two cones, but holds the two
sockets KH, of 15 inches length, for the two tele¬
scopic tubes. Each of these sockets has a square base,
and is fixed to the cube by four screws. These sockets
are cut down in the sides about eight inches, to admit
more easily the tube of the telescope ; hut when the
tube is inserted, it is kept in firm by screwing up the
tightening screws at the end of the sockets at K and
H. These two sockets are very useful in keeping the
telescope in its greatest possible degree of steadiness.
They also afford a better opportunity of balancing the
telescope and rectifying its vertical thread, than by any
other means.
In order to direct the telescope to the given height
that a star would be observed at, there is fixed a semi¬
circle AN on one of the supporters, of about 84 inches
diameter, and divided into degrees. The index is
fixed on the axis, at the end of which is a vernier,
which subdivides the degrees into 12 parts, or five mi¬
nutes. This index is moveable on the axis, and may
be closely applied to the divisions by means of a tight¬
ening screw.
Two upright posts of wood or stone YY, firmly
fixed at a proper distance, are to sustain the support¬
ers of this instrument. These supporters are two
thick brass plates HR, having well smoothed angular
notches in their upper ends, to receive the cylindrical
arms of the axis. Each of these notched plates is
contrived to he moveable by a screw, which slides them
upon the surfaces of two other plates immoveably fix¬
ed upon the two upright pillars ; one plate moving in
a horizontal, and the other in a vertical direction ;
or, which is more simple, these two modes are some¬
times applied only on one side, as at V and P, the ho¬
rizontal motion by the screw P, and the vertical by
the screw V. These two motions serve to adjust the
telescope to the planes of the horizon and meridian :
to the plane of the horizon by the spirit-level EF,
hung by DC on the axis MQ, in a parallel direction :
and to the plane of the meridian in the following man¬
ner :
N O M Y. Appen |t 1,
Observe by the clock when a circumpolar star seen j)esc
through this instrument transits both above and below of As
the pole; arid if the times of describing the eastern and Wk« . ,
western parts of its circuit are equal, the telescope is strui ts, ^
then in the plane of the meridian : otherwise the screw
P must he gently turned that it may move the tele¬
scope so much that the time of the star’s revolution he
bisected by both the upper and lower transits, taking
care at the same time that the axis remains perfectly
horizontal. When the telescope is thus adjusted, a
mark must be set at a considerable distance (the greater
the better) in the horizontal direction of the intersection
of the cross wires, and in a place where it can be illumi¬
nated in the night-time by a lanthorn hanging near it ;
which mark being on a fixed object, will serve at all
times afterwards to examine the position of the tele¬
scope by, the axis of the instrument being first adjust¬
ed by means of the level.
lo adjust the Clock hy the Sun’s Transit over the
Meridian. Note the times by the clock when the pre¬
ceding and following edges of the sun’s limb touch the
cross wire. The difference between the middle time
and 12 hours, shows how much the mean, or time hy
the clock, is faster or slower than the apparent or so¬
lar time for that day : to which the equation of time
being applied, will show the time of mean noon for
that day, by which the clock may be adjusted.
1. The Equal Altitude Instrument, is an instrument
that is used to observe a celestial object when it has
the same altitude on both the east and west sides of
the meridian, or in the morning and afternoon. It
principally consists of a telescope about 30 inches long,
fixed to a sextantal or semicircular divided arch ; the
centre of which is fixed to a long vertical axis : but
the particulars of this instrument the reader will see
explained in Optics.
3. Compound Transit Instrument. Some instruments
have been contrived to answer both kinds of observa¬
tions, viz. either a transit or equal altitudes. Fig. 178.
represents such an instrument, made first of all for Mr
le Monnier, the French astronomer, by the late Mr
Sisson, under the direction of Mr Graham, mounted
and fixed up ready for observation.
AB is a telescope, which may be 3, 4, 5, or 6 feet
long, whose cylindrical tube fits exactly into another
hollow cylinder a b, perpendicular to the axis : these
several pieces are of the best hammered plate brass.
The cylindrical extremity of this axis MN are of so¬
lid bell metal, and wrought exquisitely true, and ex¬
actly the same size, in a lathe ; and it is on the per¬
fection to which the cylinders or trunnions are turned
that the justness of the instrument depends. In the
common locus of the object-glass and eye-glass is pla¬
ced a reticle (fig. iqqi), consisting of three horizontal
and parallel fine-stretched silver wires, fixed by pins or
screws to a brass circle, the middle one passing through
its centre, with a fourth vertical wire likewise passing
through the centre, exactly perpendicular to the for¬
mer three.
The horizontal axis MN (fig. 178.) is placed on a
strong brass frame, into the middle of which a steel cy¬
linder GH is fixed perpendicularly, being turned truly
round, and terminating in a conical point at its lower
extremity; where it is let into a small hole drilled
in the middle of the dove-tail slider \ which slider is
supported
appendix. ASTRO
W;>cri|>tion supported by a hollow tube fixed to the supporting piece
UttAstrono-IK, consisting of two strong plates of brass joined toge-
it; h eal In- ther at right angles, to which are fixed two iron cramps
-}pU imcnts.^ j- ^ ^ fg fastened to the stone wall of a
r '' south window.
The upper part G of the steel spindle is embraced by
a collar def being in contact with the blunt extre¬
mity of three screws, whose particular use will be ex¬
plained by and by. O is another cylindrical collar
closely embracing the steel spindle at about a third part
of its length from the top j by the means of a small
screw it may be loosened or pinched close as occasion
requires. From the bottom of this collar proceeds an
arm or lever acted on by the two screws g h, where¬
by the whole instrument, excepting the supporting
piece, may be moved laterally, so that the telescope
may be made to point at a distant mark fixed in the
vertical of the meridian, ik is a graduated semicircle
of thin brass screwed to the telescope, whereby it may
be elevated so as to point to a known celestial object
in the day-time. Im is a spirit-level parallel to the
axis of rotation on the telescope, on which two trun¬
nions hang by two hooks at M and N. Along the
upper side of the glass tube of the level slides a pointer
to be set to the end of the air-bubble $ and when the
position of the axis of rotation is so adjusted by the
screws that the air-bubble keeps to the pointer for a
whole revolution of the instrument, the spindle GH is
certainly perpendicular to the horizon, and then the
line of collimation of the telescope describes a circle
of equal altitude in the heavens. When the level is
suspended on the axis, raise or depress the tube of the
level by twisting the neb of the screw n till you bring
either the end of the air-bubble to rest at any point to¬
wards the middle of the tube, to which slide the in¬
dex : then lift off the level, and, turning the ends of
it contrary ways, hang it again on the trunnions ; and
if the air-bubble rests exactly again, the index as be¬
fore, the axis of rotation is truly horizontal: If not,
depress that end of the axis which lies on the same side
of the pointer as the bubble does, by turning the neb
of the screw at N, till the bubble returns about half¬
way towards the pointer; then having moved the
pointer to the place where it now rests, invert the ends
ot the level again, and repeat the same practice till
the bubble rests exactly at the pointer in both positions
of the level. If, after the telescope is turned upside
down, that is, after the trunnions are inverted end for
end, you perceive that the same point of a remote
fixed object is covered by the vertical wire in the focus
ot the telescope, that was covered by it before the in¬
version, it is certain that the line of sight or collima¬
tion is perpendicular to the transverse axis; but if the
said vertical wire covers any other point, the brass
circle that carries the hairs must be moved by a screw-
key introduced through the perforation in the side of
the tube at X, till it appears to bisect the line joining
these two points as near as you can judge ; then, by
reverting the axis to its former position, you will find
whether the wires be exactly adjusted. N. B. Tire ball
o is a counterpoise to the centre of gravity of the semi¬
circle ik, without which the telescope would not rest
in an oblique elevation without being fixed by a screw
or some other contrivance.
N O M Y. 183
The several before-mentioned verifications being Description
accomplished, if the telescope be elevated to any angle of Astrono-
witb the horizon, and there stopped, all fixed stars miCfd ,n-
which pass over the three horizontal wires of the re-
tide on the eastern side of the meridian in ascending,
will have precisely the same altitudes when in descend¬
ing they again cross the same respective wires on the
west side, and the middle between the times of each
respective equal altitude will be the exact moment of
the star’s culminating or passing the meridian. By
the help of a good pendulum-clock, the hour of their
true meridional transits will be known, and consequently
the difference of right ascension of different stars. Now,
since it will be sufficient to observe a star which has
north declination two or three hours before and after its
passing the meridian, in order to deduce the times of its
arrival at that circle ; it follows, that having once found
the difference of right ascension of two stars about 60
degrees asunder, and you again observe the first of these
stand at the same altitude both in the east and west side,
you infer with certainty the moment by the clock at
which the second star will be on the meridian that same
night, and by this means the transit instrument may be
fixed in the true plane of the meridian till the next day;
when, by depressing it to some distant land objects, a
mark may be discovered whereby it may ever after be
rectified very readily, so as to take the transits of any
of the heavenly bodies to great exactness, whether by
night or day.
When such a mark is thus found, the telescope be¬
ing directed carefully to it, must be fixed in that posi¬
tion by pinching fast the end of the arm or lever be¬
tween the two opposite screws g h; and if at any fu¬
ture time, whether from the effect of heat or cold on
the wall to which the instrument is fixed, or by any
settling of the wall itself, the mark appears no longer
well bisected by the vertical wire, the telescope may
easily be made to bisect it again, by giving a small
motion to the pinching screws.
The transit instrument is now considered as one of
the most essential particulars of the apparatus of an
astronomical observatory.
Besides the above, may be mentioned,
Equatorial, or Portable Observatory ; Portable
an instrument designed to answer a number of useful pur- obseum-
poses in practical astronomy, independent of any parti- toiy*
cular observatory. It may be made use of in any steady
room or place, and performs most of the useful problems
in the science. The following is a description of one
lately invented by Mr Ramsden, from whom it has re¬
ceived the name of the Universal Equatorial.
The principal parts of this instrument (fig. 179.) are,
1. The azimuth or horizontal circle A, which repre¬
sents the horizon of the place, and moves on a long
axis B, called the vertical axis. 2. The equatorial or
hour circle C, representing the equator, placed at right
angles to the polar axis D, or the axis of the earth,
upon which it moves. 3. The semicircle of declination
E, on which the telescope is placed, and moving on the
axis of declination, or the axis of motion of the line of
collimation F. These circles are measured and divided
as in the following table ;
Measures
1B4
Description
of Astrono¬
mical In¬
struments.
astronomy.
Measures of the several
circles and divisions
on them.
Azimuth or hori- 1
zontal circle J
Equatorial or hour 1
circle j
Vertical semicircle T
for declination >
or latitude. J
Radius
indec.
5 1
5 1
5 5
Limb divided
to
ij'
l' in time
* 5'
Nonius of
30 gives
seconds.
30"
30'
2
3°
Divided on
limb into
parts ofinc.
45th
45th
42d
Divided by
Nonius into
part* of ino.
1350th
1350th
1260th
Append,,
Descripm
of Astn,.
mical
strumei
4. The telescope, which is an achromatic refractor
with a triple object-glass, whose focal distance is 17
inches, and aperture 2.45 inches, and furnished with
six difterent eye-tubes : so that its magnifying powers
extend from 44 to 168. The telescope in this equa¬
torial may be brought parallel to the polar axis, as in
the figure, so as to point to the pole star in any part
of its diurnal revolution ; and thus it has been observed
near noon, when the sun has shone very bright. 5. The
apparatus for cori’ecting the error in altitude occasioned
by refraction, which is applied to the eye-end of the
telescope, and consists of a slide G moving in a groove
or dove-tail, and carrying the several eye-tubes of the
telescope, on which slide there is an index correspond¬
ing to five small divisions engraved on the dove-tail j a
very small circle, called the refraction circle H, move¬
able by a finger-screw at the extremity of the eye-end
of the telescope 5 which circle is divided into half mi¬
nutes, one entire revolution of it being equal to 3' 18",
and by its motion raises the centre of the cross hairs on
a circle of altitude ; and likewise a quadrant I of
inch radius, with divisions on each side, one expressing
the degree of altitude of the object viewed, and the
other expressing the minutes and seconds of error occa¬
sioned by refraction, corresponding to that degree of al¬
titude : to this quadrant is joined a small round level
K, which is adjusted partly by the pinion that turns the
whole of this apparatus, and partly by the index of the
quadrant; for which purpose the refraction circle is set
to the same minute, &c. which the index points to on
the limb of the quadrant; and if the minute, &c. given
, by the quadrant exceed the 3' 18" contained in one en¬
tire revolution of the refraction circle, this must be set
to the excess above one or more of its entire revolutions;
then the centre of the cross hairs will appear to be rais¬
ed on a circle of altitude to the additional height which
the error of refraction will occasion at that altitude.
This instrument stands on three feet L distant from
each other 14.4 inches: and when all the parts are ho¬
rizontal is about 29 inches high : the weight of the equa¬
torial and apparatus is only 59 lb. avoirdupois, which
are contained in a mahogany case weighing 581b.
The principal adjustment in this instrument is that
of making the line of collimation to descr ibe a portion
of an hour circle in the heavens ; in order to which,
the azimuth circle must be truly level ; the line of col¬
limation, or some corresponding line represented by
the small brass rod M parallel to it, must be perpendi¬
cular to the axis of its own proper motion ; and this
last axis must be perpendicular to the polar axis : on the
brass rod M there is occasionally placed a hanging level
N, the use of which will appear in the following ad¬
justments :
The azimuth circle may be made level by turning
the instrument till one of the levels is parallel to an
imaginary line joining two of the feet screws ; then ad¬
just that level with these two feet screws; turn the cir¬
cle half round, i. e. 180°; and if the bubble be not
then right, correct half the error by the screw belonging
to the level, and the other half error by the two foot
screws; repeat this till the bubble comes right; then
turn the circle 90° from the two former positions, and
set the bubble right, if it be wrong, by the foot screw
at the end of the level ; when this is done, adjust the
other level by its own screw, and the azimuth circle
will be truly level. The hanging level must then be
fixed to the brass rod by two hooks of equal length,
and made truly parallel to it : for this purpose make
the polar axis perpendicular or nearly perpendicular to
the horizon ; then adjust the level by the pinic n of the
declination-semicircle ; reverse the level, and if it be
wrongs correct half the error by a small steel screw
that lies under one end of the level, and the other
half-error by the pinion of the declination-semicircle ;
repeat this till the bubble be right in both positions.
In order to make the brass rod on which the level is
suspended at right angles to the axis of motion of the
telescope or line of collimation, make the polar axis
horizontal, or nearly so : set the declination-semicircle
to o°, turn the hour-circle till the bubble comes right ;
then turn the declination circle to 90°; adjust the bub¬
ble by raising or depressing the polar axis (first by
hand till it be nearly right, afterwards tighten with an
ivory key the socket which runs on the arch with the
polar axis, and then apply the same ivory key to the
adjusting screw at the end of the said arch till the
bubble comes quite right) ; then turn the declination-
circle to the opposite 90°; if the level he not then
right, correct half the error by the aforesaid adjusting
screw at the end of the arch, and the other half error
by the two screws which raise or depress the end of
the brass rod. rIhe polar axis remaining nearly hori¬
zontal as before, and the declination-semicircle at o°,
adjust the bubble by the hour-circle ; then turn the
declination-semicircle to 90°, and adjust the bubble by-
raising or depressing the polar axis ; then turn the
hour-circle 12 hours; and if the bubble be wrong,
correct halt the error by the polar axis, and the other
halt error by the twTo pair of capstan screws at the
feet of the two supports on one side of the axis of mo¬
tion
ANTKOXOM \:
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ASTliONOMY
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ASTRONOMY.
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Fig.iyff.
Forfai/c sisb'oivonucal Qruu/ranf . Transit In stramerit.
Fif.jys.
Cvinpomir/ Transit Instrument.
, ppendix. A S T R
Iscriptiontion of the telescope; and thus this axis will be at
C Astrono-right angles to the polar axis. The next adjustment
ical In- is to make the centre of cross hairs remain on the same
; uii‘eiits ; object, while you turn the eye-tube quite round by the
pinion of the refraction apparatus : for this adjustment,
set the index on the slide to the first division on the
dove-tail ; and set the division marked 18" on the re¬
fraction circle to its index ; then look through the te¬
lescope, and with the pinion turn the eye-tube quite
round; and if the centre of the hairs does not remain
on the same spot during that revolution, it must be
corrected by the four small screws, two and two at a
time (which you will find upon unscrewing the nearest
end of the eye-tube that contains the first eye-glass) ;
repeat this correction till the centre of the hairs i-e-
mains on the spot you are looking at during an entire
revolution. In order to make the line of collimation
parallel to the brass rod on which the level hangs, set
the polar axis horizontal, and the declination circle to
90°, adjust the level by the polar axis ; look through
the telescope, on some distant horizontal object, covered
by the centre of the cross hairs; then invert the tele¬
scope, which is done by turning the hour-circle half
round; and if the centre of the cross hairs does not
cover the same object as before, correct half the error
by the uppermost and lowermost of the four small
screws at the eye-end of the large tube of the tele¬
scope ; this correction will give a second object now
covered by the centre of the hairs, which must be
adopted instead of the first object: then invert the te¬
lescope as before; and if the second object be not co¬
vered by the centre of the hairs, correct half the error
by the same two screws which were used before : this
correction will give a third object, now covered by the
centre of the hairs, which must be adopted instead of
the second object; repeat this operation till no error
remains; then set the hour-circle exactly to 12 hours
(the declination-circle remaining at 90° as before) :
and it the centre of the cross hairs does not cover the
last object fixed on, set it to that object by the two re¬
maining small screws at the eye-end of the large tube,
and then the line of collimation will be parallel to the
brass rod. For rectifying the nonius of the declina¬
tion and equatorial circles, lower the telescope as many
degrees, minutes, and seconds, below o* or iE on the
declination semicircle as are equal to the complement
the latitude ; then elevate the polar axis till the bub-
O N O M Y. 185
ble be horizontal, and thus the equatorial circle will Description
be elevated to the colatitude of the place ; set this cir-of Astrono-
cle to 6 hours ; adjust the level by the pinion of the ,Ti!ca^ *n~
declination-circle ; then turn the equatorial circle exT ,stlu‘”;nU,J
actly twelve hours from the last position ; and if the level
be not right, correct one-half of the error by the equa¬
torial circle, and the other half by the declination-cir¬
cle ; then turn the equatorial circle back again exactly
12 hours from the last position ; and if the level be still
wrong, repeat the correction as before till it be right,
when turned to either position ; that being done, set
the nonius of the equatorial circle exactly to 6 hours,
and the nonius of the declination circle exactly to o°«
The principal uses of this equatorial are,
1. To find your meridian by one observation only :
for this purpose, elevate the equatorial circle to the
colatitude of the place, and set the declination se¬
micircle to the sun’s declination for the day and hour
of the day required ; then move the azimuth and hour
circles both at the same time, either in the same or
contrary direction, till you bring the centre of the
cross hairs in the telescope exactly to cover the centre
of the sun ; when that is done, the index of the hour-
circle will give the apparent or solar time at the in¬
stant of observation ; and thus the time is gained,
though the sun be at a distance from the meridian ;
then turn the hour-circle till the index points precisely
at 12 o’clock, and lower the telescope to the horizon,
in order to observe some point there in the centre of
your glass, and that point is your meridian mark found
by one observation only ; the best time for this opera¬
tion is three hours before or three hours after 12 at
noon.
2. To point the telescope on a star, though not on
the meridian, in full daylight. Having elevated the
equatorial circle to the colatitude of the place, and.
set the declination-semicircle to the star’s declination,
move the index of the hour-circle till it shall point to
the precise time at which the star is then distant from
the meridian, found in tables of the right ascension of
the stars, and the star will then appear in the glass.
Besides these uses peculiar to this instrument, it is also
applicable to all the purposes to which the principal
astronomical instruments, viz. a transit, a quadrant,
and an equal altitude instrument are applied.
See the article Astronomy, Physical, in the Sup¬
plement.
At
Juration of the fixed stars, N°265
e/twy, Royal, of sciences founded,
1 n supposed to have understood
astronomy,
0nso °f Castile patronizes astro¬
nomers, by whom the tables
are constructed,
! ' lcans knowledge of astronomy,
wean,
^ dilutions, their knowledge of a-
stronomv,
OL. HI. Parti, '
30
18
5
51
INDEX.
Apogee of the moon’s orbit, N° 81
of the planets, 293
Apsides, moon’s, ib.
Arabians cultivate astronomy in the
dark ages, 17
Archimedes determines the relative
distances of the pla¬
nets, . 13
Ascension, right, 250
Attraction, laws of, act among the
stars, 230
Axis of the world, N® 37
Astrological division of the heavens, 371:
Atmosphere, why not seen about the
moon, 399
Bailly investigates the Indian astro¬
nomy, 4
Bayer, John, fornis a celestial atlas, 26
improves the nomenclature of
the stars, ib„
Benares, observatory, 3
A a BianchinL
186
Bianchini, observations of Venus, N° 146
Bissextile, ov Leap year, 63
Bodies, falling, velocity calculated, 352
weight increases towards the
■ poles, 276
Botin's opinion of comets, 301
Bradley, Dr, succeeds Dr Halley, 34
discovers the aberration of
light, ib.
nutation of the
earth’s axis, ib.
Briggs, Henry, improves logarithms, 28
Biydone observes the prodigious velo¬
city of a comet, 319
conjectures about comets with¬
out tails, 322
c
Ccesar, Julius, reforms the year, 63
Caille, de la, constructs solar tables, 36
Calendar, Gregorian, 64
Cassini appointed to the observatory at
Paris, 30
his observations of Venus, 141,144,
J49»
Ceres, planet, elements not precisely
known, 183
Chaldeans cultivated astronomy early, 6
Chinese, their knowledge of astronomy, 2
give names to the zodiac, 3
Clouds, solar, two regions, 77
Cole's hypothesis of comets 3 23
Cometarium, 428
Cornets, account of, 183
atmospheres and phases, 184
appearance of one in 1618,
1680, 1744, 1759, 186, 191
tails, 187
observations on, by Hevelius
and Hooke, 188
supposed by the ancient* to
be planets, 298
Aristotle’s opinion of, 299
one species only exists, 300
opinion of Kepler and Bodin, 301
Bernoulli’s opinion of, 302
true doctrine revived by Ty¬
cho Brahe, 303
motion determined by New¬
ton, 304
return of one predicted by Dr
Halley, 305
periodical times of different
ones determined, 306
why sometimes invisible in pe¬
rihelion, 307
more seen in hemisphere to¬
wards the sun, 308
differences in eccentricities of
orbits, 309
opinions of their substance, 310
distances and diameters of
some computed, 311
occasion eclipses, 312
conjectures concerning their
tails, 313
ASTRONOMY.
Cojnets, conjectures by Appian and
Tycho Brahe, N° 313
by Descartes, 314
by others, ascrib¬
ed to electrici¬
ty, ib.
by Dr Hamilton, 315
velocity observed by Bry-
done, 319
in 1680 subjected to great
heat, 320
conjectures of their nature by
Hevelius, 321
about those with¬
out tails, 322
Cole’s hypothesis, 323
periodical times, 324
Halley calculates their re¬
turn, _ 325
return at unequal intervals,
why, 326
at what distance visible, 372
move in eccentric ellipses, 373
motion, how to calculate, 374
are affected by the planets, 375
consequence of meeting a
planet, 376
Constellations, names of, 199
Copernicus restores the system of Py¬
thagoras, 22
his diffidence and fear of
giving offence, retard
the publication of his
system, ib.
D
Day, astronomical 55
sidereal, 56
varies in length, 57
mean astronomical, 58
Declination, rules for finding, 249
Densities of planets calculated, 356
Dollond improves the telescope, 31
Dunn, Mr, his account of the solar
spots, 69
E
Earth, true figure discovered, 34
figure spherical, 269
dimensions ascertained, 270
different measurements, 271
anomalies in the figure, ac¬
counted for by Mr Play¬
fair, 272
latitude and longitude found, 273
motion round the sun, proved
from its figure, 275
from celestial ap¬
pearances, 277
objections to, answer¬
ed, 278
demonstrated from the
aberration of light, 286
diurnal motion and changes of
seasons illustrated, 290
effects of motion on the ap¬
pearances of the planets, 292
Index
Earth and moon move about a com¬
mon centre, N° 3^
protuberant matter, effects of,
libratory momentum,
applied to nuta¬
tion and pre¬
cession, 41;
various modes of
application,
real and momentary change
greatest at the solstices, 41,
moon’s action, 41c
Eclipses, method of calculating, 331
tables for calculating, p. 169,
170.
lunar, 55
solar, 10:
duration of, nc
Ecliptic, 4:
obliquity of, ib!
Egyptians early cultivators of astrono¬
my, (
Elements of the planets, tables of, 295
Equation of the centre explained, 31
of time computed, 6c
Equator, 35
Equinoctial line,
points, ib(
Equinoxes, precession of, discovered
by Hipparchus, 25)
importance of the disco¬
very, ^ 255
small irregularities, disco¬
vered by Dr Bradley, 261
F
Falling bodies, velocity of, calculat¬
ed, 352
Flamstcad, Mr, appointed astronomer
royal, 3c
makes a catalogue of the
stars, 33
Fontana improves telescopes, 31
Forces, moving, cause of motion, 331
composition of, 33^
resolution, 334
accelerating, 33^
central, 33®
centripetal, effect of, 34c
centrifugal compared with gra¬
vitation, 34'
French philosophers cultivate astrono¬
my, 3:
G
Galaxy, or milky-way, 3lj
seems to surround the hea¬
vens, 22:
Globe, celestial, 42!
Golden number, ^
Gravitation, general law of, 35.
Grecian astronomy improved by
Thales, i
by Anaximander, it
Greeks, unknown when astronomy
was first cultivated among ^
them,
QreenW
adex.
reenwich observatory built, N° 30
II
.alley, Dr, appointed astronomer
royal, 33
discovers the acceleration of
the moon, ib.
recommends the method of
finding the longitude now
followed, ib.
account of new stars, 200
predicts the return of a co-
met, _ 305
calculates their return, 3 25
wiilton's, Dr, opinion of comets, 3x3
insufficient, 317
i'avem, division of, igy
method of gauging, by Her-
schel, 224
interior construction, 229
Irschel, Dr, improves telescopes, 36
discovers a planet, ib.
six satellites, ib.
observations on the sun, 70
adopts new terms to express
the appearances, 71
opinion of the construction
of the universe, 217
of the via lac tea, 218
method of gauging the hea¬
vens, . 225
hypothesis of celestial ap¬
pearances, 223
method of finding the pa¬
rallax of fixed stars, 268
planet discovered by, 36
its satellites, 183
six in number, 330
hhelius, a zealous astronomer, 30
compiles his Selenographia, ib.
his observatory and instru¬
ments burnt, ib.
conjectures of the nature of
comets, 321
■lets taught the diurnal motion of
the earth, 11
Mmrchus discovers the eccentricity
of the planetary orbits, 14
makes a catalogue of the
fixed stars, 13
discovers the precession of
the equinoxes, 237
pyt charged with plagiarism, 260
rf5> Dr, improves telescopes, qo
j^on explained, 37
a young astronomer of great
talents, 29
predicted and observed the
transit of Venus for the
first time, ib.
formed a theory of the moon, ib.
numi tholr knowledge of astrono¬
my, 4
ASTBONOMY.
Indians, authenticity of their astrono¬
my, > N° 370
Instruments, astronomical, first impro¬
ved in England, 31
description of^ p. 171—184.
Josephus mentions the grand year
known to Seth, 1
Jupiter's belts first discovered, 166
spots in them, 167
account of one, 168
no difference of seasons, 169
moons, four in number, 170
distance and perio¬
dic times, 171
eclipses, 172
appear sometimes as
dark spots, 173
vary in light and
magnitude, 174
shadows sometimes vi¬
sible on Jupiter’s
disk, 173
three eclipsed every
revolution, 176
eclipses, when visible, 177
orbits and distances, 327
irregularities in their
motions, 228
K
Kepler discovers the famous laws in
astronomy, 26
law explained, 49
opinion of comets, 301
discovers the cause of the tides, 400
Xi
Latitudes of heavenly bodies, 232
how found, 233
Libration of the moon, 133
theory, ^4
Line, meridian, method of drawing, 40
Logarithms invented by Baron Napier,
improved by Ursinus and
Briggs, s 28
Longitude of the heavenly bodies, 231
of places on the earth, me¬
thod of finding, 274
Long, Dr, his account of the solar
spots, . 65
Louville's observations on the moon’s
ring, 226
Lowe's, Mr, method of finding the
longitude, 274
Lunation, or month, 61
M
Mackay, Mr, method of finding the
longitude, 274
Mars, spots first seen, 133
bright about the poles, 136
Dr Herschel’s account of, 137
appear and disappear, 138
white about the poles, 162
position of the poles, 139
seasons, 160
resembles the earth, 161
I87
Mars, his form spheroidical, N° i63
difference of diameter, 164
atmosphere, 163
Maskelyne, Dr, improves the lunar
method of finding the
longitude, 35
apparent motions, 133
diameter, J36
nature, 53 7
Meridian explained, 37
line, method of drawing, 40
Milky-way,' _ 211
Moon's motion in her orbit, 79
orbit elliptical, 80
eccentricity, 81
evection, 83
variation, 84
annual equation, 8^
revolution of her nodes, 86
parallax, method of determin-
. ing, 87
distance, 89
phases, ^
is opaque, pj
the earth appears a moon to it, 92
mode of measuring the year, 93
longitude found, 94
nonagesimal degree, 98
eclipses, ^9
# period, i0o
why visible when eclipsed, 101
eclipses observed with difficul-
ly» t 102
number in a year, 104
total and annular, 106
extent of shadow and penum-
bra, 107
size, Iir
%ht> 112
spots, II3
names of, ib.
inequalities of surface, 114
method of measuring moun¬
tains, II3
mountains, height of, overrat¬
ed* 116
volcanoes, 1x9
substance, conjectures of, 120
atmosphere, existence of, dis¬
puted, fi¬
ring observed in eclipses, 123
lightning, 127
height of atmosphere account¬
ed for, _ I2g
has no sensible atmosphere, 131
libration, j ^ ~
theory, 134
tendency the same as gravita-
tion, > 330
motion explained, 33I
inequalities, 377
nearest the earth when least
attracted, ^79
orbit, cause of dilatation, 380
A a 2 Moon's
188
Moon's oibit changed by the action
of the sun, N° 381
nodes, 382
motion explained, 384
inclination, 383
motion,irregularities from be¬
ing elliptical, 385
orbit, inequality in the eccen¬
tricity, 391
inequalities computed, 392
mean distance, secular equa¬
tion, 393
has no atmosphere, why, 399
Motion, definition of, 331
Motions of the sun, 39—51
N
Nadir, 37
Napier, Baron, invents logarithms, 26
Nebula, our sidereal system, one, 236
extent, 239
how to be delineated, 241
Nebulee, in the milky-way, 219
arranged in strata, 220
assume various shapes, 221
how formed, 231
vacancies, how occasioned, 232
decay and recomposition, 242
universe composed of, 243
size and distance, 244
time of forming, 245
planetary, 247
Newton, Sir Isaac, his discoveries, 31
determines the motions of the
comets, 304
his opinion of comets defend¬
ed, 316
observations on the precession
of equinoxes, 407
sketch of his investigation, 408
determination of the form and
dimensions of the earth, 409
examination of phenomena of
precession on mechanical
principles, 410
Node, ascending, 86
Nodules on the luminous clouds of the
sun, 75
Number, golden, 61
Nutation, lunar, 421
compared with precession, 423
Q
Observatory, portable, 434
Openings formed hy the sun’s lumi¬
nous clouds being remov¬
ed, 72
Oscillation of the planetary system, 369
P
Pallas, planet, elements not precisely
known, 183
Perigee of the moon’s orbit, 81
of the planets, 293
Phccnicians taught astronomy by the
Egyptians, 7
apply it to navigation, ib.
PJlilolaus asserts the annual motion of
the earth round the sun, n
ASTRONOMY.
Planets, N° 37
apogee and perigee, 293
difference of apparent diame¬
ters, 294
appearances of superior, ex¬
plained, 295
orbits and laws of their mo¬
tions, ib.
heliocentric circles, 296
nodes, 297
tables of elements, ib.
revolve round the sun, 343
in consequence of a
force in the sun, 344
the same tendency in all, 346
and same in their satellites, 347
react on the sun, 354
densities calculated, 356
masses, table of, 357
gravity at their surfaces, 359
secular and periodical inequa¬
lities, 360
motion of the aphelion, 361
motions, method of correct¬
ing . 363
Jupiter and Saturn influence
each others motions, 362
deflection of, towards each
other, 366
Pendulum regulated by gravitation, 337
Precession of equinoxes, 257—259
observations by
Newton and
others, 407
Newton’s investigation, 408
lunar, 420
greatest equation, 425
Ptolemy, his system erroneous, 16
Ptolemy Philadelphus encourages the
sciences in E-
gypt* 12
Purback improves astronomy, 19
Pythagoras improves astronomy, 11
correct notions of the solar
system, ib.
of the moon’s light, ib.
of the milky-way, ib.
Q
Quadrants, 431
Quadratures of the moon, 90
R
Revolution of a body round a centre
explained, 339
Regiomontanus constructs astronomical
apparatus, 20
calculates lunations and
eclipses, ib.
writes a theory of pla¬
nets and comets, ib.
Ridges of the sun’s luminous clouds, 74
Ring of Saturn, 393
discovery concerning, by Dr
Herschel, - 396
probably consistent, 397
origin, 398
Index
Roemer discovers the progressive mo¬
tion of light, N°
Rothman, an astronomer,
S
Satellites, tend to the sun,
to their primaries,
irregularities in Jupiter’s,
Satumi, telescopic appearance of,
ring discovered by Huygens,
supposed to revolve round
its axis, 181;
diameter, ib,
satellites, 18]
two discovered by
Herschel, 18;
number, 325
Seasons, explained, ^
changes illustrated, 29c
different, explained, 291
Sector, equatorial, 43;
Selenographia compiled by Hevelius, 3c
Shallows of the sun’s luminous clouds, 93
Shepherds, Asiatic, observe the heavens, 253
Signs of the zodiac, 52
Society, Royal, founded in London, 8c
Stars, fixed, occultatious by the moon, 13c
Style, old, 64
new, ib.
Sun, annual motion, 39
altitude, 41
motion, method of ascertaining, 42
not uniform, 43
• diameter varies, 46
distance varies, 47
motion varies, 48
orbit, elliptical, 5°,
varies, 52
distance determined, J4
spots, first discovered, 65
Long, Dr, his account, of
them, ^
move from west to east, f>7
observed by different astro¬
nomers,
D nnn, Mr, his account of
them, 69
appearances of the luminous
clouds, 72—76
two regions of clouds,
theory of phenomena,
eclipses,
beginning and ending,
account of one by Dr
Halley,
his place in the universe,
his centre attracts all bodies,
moves round the common centre
of gravity,
Syzigies of the moon,
Stars, fixed, number increased by te¬
lescopes,
difference in magnitude,
telescopic,
unformed,
division in constellations,
and uses,
196
Star
Ildex.
Si'rs, fixed, new, Dr Halley’s account
of, N° 200
changes among, 201
accounts of variable stars,
202—208
method of discovering
variations, 210
conjectures of their na¬
ture, 212
comparative brightness
with the sun, 214
method of ascertaining
their situation, 248
vary in right ascension
and declination, 254
distance, immeasurable, 266
appear large to the eye, 267
parallax, method of ascer¬
taining, 268
Sr,emf Pythagorean, 279
suppressed by the Ptolemaic, 280
Ptolemaic, insufficient, 281
Pythagorean, revived, 282
Tychonic, 282
T
T\les, Alphonsine, constructed, 18
directions for using, 356
Tihscopes invented, 27
improved by Hooke, 30
by Fontana, 31
by Huygens, ib.
by Gregory, ib.
by Sir Isaac New¬
ton, ib.
by Dollond, ib.
cautions in using, 118
T/Vy, mathematical, of the poles of
the equator, 262—264
Tti?, divisions of, jj 57
equation of, computed, 60
Tt-Sf cause discovered by Kepler, 400
A S T R O N O
Tides, why high at full moon,
influence of the sun,
not highest when the moon is
in the meridian
turn on the axis of the moon’s
orbit,
irregularities accounted for,
Trajectorium lunare,
Transit instruments,
Tycho Brahe observes the connexion
of Saturn and Jupiter,
makes a more accurate
quadrant,
superintends the build¬
ing of Uraniburg, his
observatory,
revives the true doctrine
of comets,
M Y.
N° 401
402
4°3
404
405
43°
433
24
ib.
25
301
U
Ulug Beg cultivates astronomy, 17
Uraniburg, built by Tycho Brahe, and
furnished with instruments, 25
Ursinus, Benjamin, calculates large ta¬
bles of logarithms, 28
Velocity, notion of, 333
apparent motions, 138
revolution round her axis, 139
doubts of the time, 147
spots first discovered, 140
seem to move from south
to north, and why, 142
appearances at different
times, 143
observations by Cassini, 141
by Bianchini, 146
satellites discovered by Cassini, 149
and by Mr Short, 150
Mr Mon¬
taigne, 151
difficult to be seen, 152
189
Venus, atmosphere of, observed by Mi-
Hirst, N° 153
Volcanoes in the moon, 119
\V
TValther cultivates astronomy, and con¬
structs instruments, 20
Weight of bodies increases towards the
poles, 276
Werner, John, early attachment to
astronomy, 21
observes the motion of
comet, ib.
proposes a method of
finding the longi¬
tude at sea, xb.
discovers the preces¬
sion of the equinoxes, ib.
constructs a planetari-
um, ib.
William IV. landgrave of Hesse-Cas-
sel, an astronomer, 23
World, argument against its eternity, 36
W1right, Edward, makes observations
on the sun’s alti¬
tude, 26
improves the theo¬
ry of his motion, ib.
computes tables of
his declination, ib.
Year, tropical, 59
sidereal, ib.
Roman, 62
reformed by Julius Cae-
sar, 63
leap, ib.
lunar, ^ 93
Zenith, 3 7
Zodiac, Chinese names of the signs, 3
signs of, 52
division of, 198
AST
liojyc. ASIROPE-wells, near Banbui-y in Oxfordshire,
,s are recommended as excellent in many disorders. The
jjjhuc. water is a brisk, spirituous, pleasant-tasted chalybeate,
j and »s also gently purgative. It should be drank from
three to five quarts in the forenoon.
ASTROSCOPE, a kind of astronomical instrument,
composed of two cones, on whose surface the constella¬
tions, with their stars, are delineated, by means whereof
the stars may be easily known. The astroscope is the
invention of William Schuckhard, formerly professor of
mathematics at Tubingen, who published a treatise ex¬
pressly on it in 1698.
. ASfRUC, John, a celebrated physician, was born
in the year 1684, at the little town of Savoy, in the
province of Languedoc. His father, who was a Pro¬
testant clergyman, bestowed particular pains upon the
A S T
earliest part of his education. After which he went to Astruc.
the university of Montpelier, where he was created 1 ■ v1*'"''1 1
master of arts in the year 1700. He then began the
study of medicine; and, in two years, obtained the
degree of bachelor, having upon that occasion written
a dissertation on the cause of fermentation, which he
defended in a very spirited manner. On the 25th of
January 1703 he was created doctor of physic; after
which, before arriving at extensive practice, he applied
to the study of medical authors, both ancient and mo¬
dern, with uncommon assiduity. The good effects of
this study soon appeared; for, in the year 1710, he
published a treatise concerning muscular motion, from
which he acquired very higli reputation. In the year
1717, he was appointed to teach medicine at Mont¬
pelier ; which he did with such perspicuity and elo-
3, quence, ^
AST [ 19° ] A S Y
Astnic, quence, that it was universally said he had been born
Asturia. to be a professor. His fame soon rose to such a height,
- that the king assigned him an annual salary ; and he
was, at the same time, appointed to superintend the
mineral waters in the province of Languedoc. But
as Montpelier did not afford sufficient scope for his
aspiring genius, he went to Paris with a great stock of
manuscripts, which he intended to publish, after sub¬
jecting them to the examination of the learned. Soon
after, however, he left it, having in the year 1729 ac¬
cepted the office of first physician to the king of Po¬
land. In this capacity he remained only for a short
time, and he again returned to Paris. Upon the death
of the celebrated Geoffroy, in the year 1731, he was
appointed regius professor of medicine at Paris. The
duties of this office he discharged in such a manner as
to answer even the most sanguine expectations. He
taught the practice of physic with so great applause, as
to draw from other universities to that of Paris a great
concourse of medical students, foreigners as well as na¬
tives of France. At the same time he was not more
celebrated as a professor than a practitioner. And
even at an advanced age, he persevered with unwea¬
ried assiduity in that intense study which first raised his
reputation. Hence it is that he has been enabled to
transmit to posterity so many valuable monuments of
his medical erudition. He died, universally regretted,
on the 15th of May 1766, in the 82d year of his
age.
ASTURIA, an ancient kingdom of Spain, sub¬
dued by Augustus, emperor of Rome.—The inhabi¬
tants of this country, along with those of Cantabria,
asserted their liberty long after the rest of Spain had
received the Roman yoke. So great was their desire
of liberty, that after being closely shut up by the Ro¬
man army, they endured the most terrible calamities of
famine, even to the devouring of one another, rather
than submit to the enemy. At length, however, the
Asturians were for surrendering ; but the Cantabrians
opposed this measure, maintaining that they ought all
to die sword in hand like, brave men. Upon this the
two nations quarrelled, notwithstanding their desperate
situation $ and a battle ensuing, 10,000 of the Astu¬
rians were driven to the intrenchments of the Romans,
whom they begged in the most moving manner to re¬
ceive them on any terms they pleased. But Tiberius,
the emperor’s son-in-law, refusing to admit them into
the camp, some of these unhappy people put an end to
their lives by falling upon their own swords j others
lighting great fires threw themselves into them, while
some poisoned themselves by drinking the juice of a ve¬
nomous herb.
The campaign being put an end to by winter, the
next year the Asturians summoned all their strength
and resolution against the Romans ; but notwithstand¬
ing their utmost efforts of valour and despair, they were
entirely defeated in a most bloody battle, which lasted
-two days, and for that time entirely subdued. A few
years afterwards they rebelled, in conjunction with
the Cantabrians 5 but were soon reduced by the Ro¬
mans, who massacred most of the young men that were
capable of bearing arms. This did not prevent them
from revolting anew in a short time afterwards ; but
without success, being obliged to submit to the Ro-
2
man power, till the subversion of that empire by the Ast(li.
Goths. ||
Asturias, anciently the kingdom of Asturia, is Asyim
now a principality of modern Spain, bounded by Bis- '■"“‘V’*
cay on the east, Galicia on the west, Old Castile and
Leon on the south, and the sea on the north. Its
greatest length is about no miles, and its breadth 54.
On the south it is separated from Old Castile and Leon
by high mountains covered with woods. The province
is tolerably fertile, but thinly inhabited. The inhabi¬
tants value themselves much on being descended from
the ancient Goths. Even the poor peasants, who are
fain to go to seek work in other provinces, call them¬
selves illustrious Goths and Mountaineers, thinking it
ignominious to marry even with great and rich fami¬
lies of another race. This pride is flattered by the
respect paid them by the rest of the nation, and the
privileges bestowed upon them by the government.
The hereditary prince of Spain is styled prince of the
Asturias. The Asturias contain 688 parishes, and the
population is estimated at 348,000, including 2868 ec¬
clesiastics, monks and nuns.
ASTYAGES, son of Cyaxares, the last king of
the Medes. He dreamed, that from the womb of his
daughter Mandane, married to Cambyses king of Per¬
sia, there sprung a vine that spread itself over all Asia.
She being with child, he resolved to kill the infant as
soon as born. Its name w'as Cyrus j and Harpagus
being sent to destroy it, preserved it $ which Astyages
after a long time hearing of, he caused Harpagus to
eat his own son. Harpagus cajled in Cyrus, who de¬
throned his grandfather, and thereby ended the mo¬
narchy of the Medes. See Media and Persia.
ASTYANAX, the only son of Hector and Andro¬
mache. After the taking of Troy, he was thrown
from the top of a tower by Ulysses’s orders.
ASTYNOMI, in Grecian Antiquity, magistrates in
Athens, corresponding to the aediles of the Romans j
they were ten in number. See ^Edile.
ASYLUM, a sanctuary, or place of refuge, where
criminals shelter themselves from the hands of justice.
The word is compounded of the privative particle «,
and s-uAatf, I hurt; because no person could be taken
out of an asylum without sacrilege.
The asyla of altars and temples were very ancient $
and likewise those of tombs, statues, and other monu¬
ments of considerable personages. Thus, the temple
of Diana at Ephesus was a refuge for debtors, the tomb
of Theseus for slaves. Among the Romans, a cele¬
brated asylum was opened by Romulus between the
mounts Palatine and Capitoline, in order to people
Rome, for all sorts of persons indiscriminately,'fugitive
slaves, debtors, and criminals of every kind. The Jews
had their asyla; the most remarkable of which were,
the six cities of refuge, the temple, and the altar of
burnt-offerings.
It was customary among the Heathens to allow re¬
fuge and impunity even to the vilest and most flagrant
offenders j some out of superstition, and others for the
sake of peopling their cities : and it was by this means,
and with such inhabitants, that Thebes, Athens, and
Rome, were first stocked. We even read of asylums
at Lyons and Vienne among the ancient Gauls j and
there are some cities in Germany which still preserve
A T A [ iQi ] ATE
, ., the ancient right of asylum. Hence on the medals of
yl lum , • ^ J *11*0*
several ancient cities, particularly in byna, we meet
Atjanta. with the inscription A2TAOI, to which is added EPAI.
This quality of asylum was given them, according to
M. Spanheim, in regard to their temples, and to the
gods revered by them.
The emperors Honorius and Theodosius granting the
like immunities to churches, the bishops and monks laid
hold of a certain tract or territory, without which they
fixed the bounds of the secular jurisdiction : and so
well did they manage their privileges, that convents in
a little time became next akin to fortresses j where the
most notorious villains were in safety, and braved the
power of the magistrate.
These privileges at length were extended not only to
the churches and churchyards, but also to the bishops
houses; whence the criminal could not be removed with¬
out a legal assurance of life, and an entire remission of
the crime. The reason of the extension was, that they
might not be obliged to live altogether in the churches,
&c. where several of the occasions of life could not be
decently performed.
But at length these asyla or sanctuaries were also
stripped of most of their immunities, because they ser¬
ved to make guilt and libertinage more bold and daring.
In England, particularly, they were entirely abolished.
See Sanctuary.
ASSYMETRY, the want of proportion between the
parts of any thing ; being the contrary of symmetry.
Or, it is the relation of two quantities which have no
common measure, as between 1 and -y/ 2, or the side
and diagonal of a square.
ASYMPTOTE, in Geometry, a line which conti¬
nually approaches nearer to another ; but, though con¬
tinued infinitely, will never meet with it : Of these are
many kinds. In strictness, however, the term asymptotes
is appropriated to right lines, which approach nearer
and nearer to some curves of which they are said to
be asymptotes ; but if they and their curves are inde¬
finitely continued, they will never meet. See Conic
Sections.
ASYNDETON, in Grammar, a figure which omits
the conjunctions in a sentence. As in veni, vidi, vici,
where ET is left out: or in that of Cicero concerning
Catil ine, abiit, excessit, evasit, ervpit : or in that verse
of Virgil,
b'erte cito flammas, date vela, impellite remos.
Asyndeton stands opposed to polysyndeton, where the
copulatives are multiplied.
ATABULUS, in Physiology, a provincial wind in
Apulia, of a dry pinching quality, and very noxious in
its effects. The ancient naturalists speak of the Atabu-
lus in terms of horror, on account of the ravage it made
among the fruits of the earth, which it scorched or wi¬
thered up.
ATABYRIS, a very high mountain in the island of
Rhodes, on which, according to Strabo and Diodorus
Siculus, there stood a temple of Jupiter Atabyrius,
whose worship a colony of Rhodians carried into Sicily,
where a temple was built to the same deity at Agrigen-
tum.
ATALANTA, an island in the Euripus of Euboea,
near the Locri Opuntii, said to have been originally a
city of the Locri, but torn from the continent in the
time of an earthquake, and during an eruption of Atalanta
Mount iEtna. This happened in the fourth year of the ||
93d Olympiad, in the reign of Artaxerxes Mnemon. Atella.
ATALANTIS, Atlantica, or Atlantis. See v '
Atlantis.
ATARAXY, a term used by the stoics and sceptics,
to denote that calmness of mind which secures us from
all emotions arising from vanity and self-conceit.
ATARGATIS FANUM, the temple of a goddess
worshipped by the Syrians and Parthians, having the
face of a woman and tail of a fish, and called Derceto
by the Greeks. Her temple stood in the city Bambyce,
called afterwards Hieropolis. It was extremely rich,
insomuch that Crassus, in his march against the Par¬
thians, spent several days in weighing the treasure.
Vossius makes the name of this goddess Phoenician, from
Addir dag, “ the great fish.”
ATARNEA, an ancient town of Mysia, situated
between Adrymyttium and Pitane, remarkable for the
marriage of Aristotle with the sister or concubine of
the tyrant Hermias; also for the dotage of that philso-
pher.
ATAXY, in a general sense, the want of order:
With physicians, it signifies irregularity of crises and
paroxysms of fevers.
ATCHE, in commerce, a small silver coin used
in Turkey, and worth only one-third of the English
penny.
ATCH1EVEMENT, in Heraldry, denotes the arms
of a person or family, together with all the exterior or¬
naments of the shield ; as helmet, mantle, crest, scrolls,
and motto, together with such quarterings as may
have been acquired by alliances, all marshalled in or¬
der.
ATCHIEVE. This term is derived from the French
achever, i. e. to finish or make an end of; but signifies,
in its ordinary acceptation, to perform great actions or
exploits.
ATE, the goddess of mischief, in the Pagan theo¬
logy. She was daughter of Jupiter, and cast down
from heaven at the birth of Hercules. For Juno hav¬
ing deceived Jupiter, in causing Eurystheus to be born
before Hercules, Jupiter expressed his resentment on
Ate, as the author of that mischief: and threw her
headlong from heaven to the earth, sivearing she should
never return thither again (Homer II. xix. 123.). The
name of this goddess comes from noceo, “ to hurt.”
Her being the daughter of Jupiter, means, according
to mythologists, that no evil happens to us but by the
permission of Providence; and her banishment to earth
denotes the terrible effects of divine justice among
men.
ATEGUA, or AttEGUA, an ancient town of
Spain, placed by some in the road from Antiquara,
now Antequera, to Hispalis, or Seville ; by others near
Alcala Real ; which last is the more probable situation,
because the Flumen Salsum, now the Salado, -was in its
neighbourhood. Now Tebala Vieja, or Teivela.
ATELLA, an ancient town of Campania in Italy,
betxveen Capua and Neapolis. From this town the A-
tellance fabidee, or Atellaniludi, took their name. Their
were also called Osci, from their inventor, in whose ter¬
ritory Atella lay. They were generally a species of
farce, interlarded with much ribbaldry and buffoonery;
and sometimes were exordia or interludes presented
between
ATI! • [ 192 ] A T H
Atella between the acts of other plays. The actors in these
11 farces were not reckoned among the common players,
Athanasian nor deeded infamous j but retained the rights of their
, C1'efcti’ , tribe, and might be listed for soldiers, the privilege
only of free men. The ruins of this town are still to
be seen, about n miles from the modern Aversa, which
was built out of its materials.
ATEMPO G1UST0, in Music, signities to sing ox-
play in an equal, true, and just time.
ATERGATIS, in Mythology, a goddess of the Sy¬
rians, supposed to be the mother of Semiramis. She
was represented with the face and breasts of a wo¬
man, but the rest of her body resembled a fish. Vos-
sius says the term signifies without fish, and con¬
jectures that the votaries of this deity abstained from
fish.
ATERNUM, a town of Lucania in Italy, now
Aterni, (Cluverius) : Also a town in the territory of
the Piceni, now Pescara, a port town of Naples, si¬
tuated on the Adriatic. E. Long. 15. 25. N. Lat.
42. 30.
ATESTE, a town in Austrian Lombardy in Italy,
now called Este. E. Long. 12. 6. N. Lat. 45.
ATHAMADULET, the prime minister of the
Persian empire, as the grand vizier is of the Turkish
empire. He is great chancellor of the kingdom, presi¬
dent of the council, superintendant of the finances,
and is charged with all foreign affairs.
ATHAMANTA, Spignel. See Botany Itidex.
ATHANASIA, Goldilocks. See Botany Im-
dex.
ATHANASIAN creed j a formulary, or con¬
fession of faith, long supposed to have been drawn up
by Athanasius bishop of Alexandria, in the fourth
century, to justify himself against the calumnies of
his Arian enemies. But it is now generally allow¬
ed among the learned not to have been his. Dr
Waterland ascribes it to Hilary bishop of Arles, for
the following among other reasons: 1. Because Ho-
noratus of Marseilles, the wi-iter of his life, tells us,
that he composed an Exposition of the Creed; a pro-
perer title for the Athanasian than that of Creed sim¬
ply which it now bears. 2. Hilary was a great ad¬
mirer and follower of St Austin j and the. whole com¬
position of this creed is in a manner upon St Austin’s
plan, both with respect to the Trinity and incarnation.
3. It is agreeable to the style of Hilary, as far as we
can judge from the little that is left of his works. Up¬
on the whole he concludes, that Hilary, bishop of
Arles, about the year 430, composed the Exposition
of Faith, which now bears the name of the Athana¬
sian Creed, lor the use ol the Galilean clergy, and par¬
ticularly those of the diocese of Arles : That, about
the year 570, it became famous enough to be com¬
mented upon ; but that all this while, and for several
years lower, it had not yet acquired the name of Atha¬
nasian, but was simply styled The Catholic Faith: That,
before 670, Athanasius’s admired name came in to re¬
commend and adorn it, being in itself an excellent sys¬
tem of the Athanasian principles of the Trinity and in¬
carnation, in opposition chiefly to the Arians, Macedo¬
nians and Apollinarians. This is the hypothesis of the
learned author of the Critical History of the Athanasian
Creed,
As to the reception of this creed in the Christian Athanas
churches, we find, that it obtained in France in the creed
time of Hincmar, or about 850 : that it was received 11
in Spain about 100 years later than in France, and in ^anasi.
Germany much about the same time. As to our own ^
country, we have clear and positive proofs of this
creed being sung alternately in our churches in the
tenth century. It was in common use in some parts of
Italy, particularly in the diocese of Verona, about the
year 960, and was received at Rome about the year
1014. As to the Greek and oriental churches, it has
been questioned whether any of them ever received
this creed at all ; though some very considerable wri¬
ters are of a contrary persuasion. It appears then, that
the reception of this creed has been both general and
ancient ; and may vie with any, in that respect, ex¬
cept the Nicene or Constantinopolitan, the only gene¬
ral creed common to all the churches.
As to the matter of this creed, it is given as a sum¬
mary of the true orthodox faith, and a condemnation
of all heresies ancient and modern. Unhappily, how¬
ever, it has proved a fruitful source of unprofitable con¬
troversy and unchristian animosity even down to the
present time.
ATHANASIUS, St, bishop of Alexandria, and
one of the greatest defenders of the faith against the
Arians, was born in Egypt. He followed St Alex¬
ander to the council of Nice, in 325, where he dispu¬
ted against Arius, and the following year was made
bishop of Alexandria j but, in 335, was deposed by
the council of Tyre: when, having recourse to the
emperor Constantine, the Arian deputies accused him of
having hindered the exportation of corn from Alexan¬
dria to Constantinople ; on which the emperor, with¬
out suffering him to make his defence, banished him to
Treves. The emperor, two years after, gave orders
that he should be restored to his bishopric: but, on his
return to Alexandria, his enemies brought fresh accu¬
sations against him, and chose Gregory of Cappadocia
to his see j which obliged Athanasius to go to Rome
to reclaim it of Pope Julius. He was there declared
innocent, in a council held in 342, and in that of
Sardica in 347’ an(l t'vo years after w7as restored to his
see by order of the empei’or Constans : but after the
death of that prince, he was again banished by the
emperor Constantius, which obliged him to retire into
the deserts. The Arians then elected one George in
his room j who being killed in a popular sedition un¬
der Julian in 360, St Athanasius returned to Alexan¬
dria, but was again banished under Julian, and restored
to his see under Jovian. He addressed to that emperor
a letter, in which he proposed that the Nicene creed
should be the standard of the orthodox faith, and con¬
demned those who denied the divinity of the Holy
Ghost. He was also banished by Valens in 367, and
afterwards recalled. St Athanasius died on the 2d of
May.375-
His works principally contain a defence of the mys¬
teries of the Trinity, and of the incarnation and divi¬
nity of the Word and Holy Spirit. There are three
editions of his works which are esteemed j that of Com-
melin, printed in 1600; that of Peter Nannius, in
1627 j an<l that of Father Montfaucon. As to the
creed which bears his name, see the preceding ar¬
ticle.
ATHANATI,
A T H r 193 ] A T H
itliliaii ATHANATI, in Persian antiquity, a body of ca¬
valry, consisting of io,ood men, always complete.
Atlist, They were called athanati (a word originally Greek,
and signifying immortal), because, when one of them
happened to die, another was immediately appointed to
succeed him.
ATHANOR. Chemists have distinguished by this
name a furnace so constructed that it can always main¬
tain an equal heat, and which shall last a long time
without addition or fresh fuel.
The body of the atbauor has nothing in it particular,
and is constructed like ordinary furnaces. But at one
of its sides, or its middle, there is an upright hollow
tower, which communicates with the fireplace by one
or more sloping openings, and which has a lid to close
its upper opening. This furnace is now rarely used.
ATHAROTH, or Atroth, in Ancient Geography,
the name ot several towns. Two appear to have been
in Samaria, in the tribe of Ephraim ; and one four
miles to the north of Sebaste, or the city of Samaria j
the other in the confines of Benjamin and Ephraim, yet
so as to be in the district of Ephraim rather than Benja¬
min (Joshua). rIhis is the Atr'oth-Adder mentioned by
Joshua xvi. y. from which to Upper Bethoron extends
the greatest breadth of the tribe of Ephraim.
A1HEISM, the disbelief of a deity. See A-
THEIST.
ATHEIST, a person who does not believe the ex¬
istence oi a Deity. Many people, both ancient and
modern, have pretended to atheism, or have been rec¬
koned atheists by the world j but it is justly questioned
whether any man seriously adopted such a principle.
These pretensions, therefore, must be founded on pride
or affectation.
i Atheism, as absurd and unreasonable as it is, has
had its martyrs. Lucilio Vanini, an Italian, native of
Naples, publicly taught atheism in France, about the
beginning^ of the 17th century ; and being convicted
of it at Thoulouse, was condemned to death. Being
pressed to make public acknowledgment of his crime,
and to ask pardon of God, the king, and justice, he
answered, he did not believe there was a God ; that
be never offended the king ; and, as for justice, he
wished it to the devil. He confessed that he was
one of twelve, who parted jn company from Naples
to spread their doctrine in all parts of Europe. His
i tongue was first cut out, and then his body burnt, A-
pril 9. 1619.
Cicero represents it as a probable opinion, that they
who apply themselves to the study of philosoplqv believe
there are no gods. This must,'doubtless, be meant
of the academic philosophy, to which Cicero himself
was attached, and which doubted of every thing. On
the contrary, the Newtonian philosophers are continual¬
ly recurring to a Deity, whom they always find at the
end of their chain of natural causes. Some foreigners
have even charged them with making too much use of
the notion of a God in philosophy, contrary to the rule
of Horace :
Nee Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus.
Among us, the philosophers have been the principal
advocates for the existence of a Deity. Witness the
writings of Sir Isaac Newton, Boyle, Ray, Cheyne,
V OL. III. Part I. +
Nieuwentyt, &C-, rI o which may be added many A , ;
others, who, though of the clergy (as was also Ray), jj
yet have distinguished themselves by their philoso-Athenago-
phical pieces in behalf of the existence of a God j ras-
e. gr. Derham, Bentley, Whiston, Samuel and John
Clarke, l enelon, &c. So true is that saying of Lord
Bacon, that though a smattering of philosophy may
lead a man into atheism, a deep draught will certainly
bring him back again to the belief of a God and Pro¬
vidence.
^ A HILLING, Adeling, Edeling, Ethling, or
Etheling, among the Anglo-Saxons, was a title of
honour, properly belonging to the heir-apparent, or
presumptive, to the crown. This honourable appella¬
tion was first conferred by King Edward the Confessor
on Edgar, to whom he was great uncle, when, being
without any issue of his own, he intended to make him
his heir.
ATHELSTAN, a Saxon king of England, natu¬
ral son of Edward the Elder, and grandson of the great
Alfred. He succeeded to the crown in 925, and
reigned 16 years. There was a remarkable law passed
by this prince, which shows his just sentiments of the
advantages of commerce, as well as the early attention
to it in this country; it declared, that any merchant
who made three voyages on his own account beyond v
the British channel or narrow seas, should be entitled
to the privilege of a thane or gentleman.
ATHENiEA, in antiquity, a feast celebrated by
the ancient Greeks in honour of Minerva, who was
called Athene.
ATHENAEUM, in antiquity, a public place where¬
in the professors of the liberal arts held their assem¬
blies, the rhetoricians declaimed, and the poets re¬
hearsed their performances. These places, of which
there were a great number at Athens, were built in
the manner of amphitheatres, encompassed with seats,
called cunei. The three most celebrated Atheneea were
those at Athens, at Rome, and at Lyons j the second
of which was built by the emperor Adrian.
ATHENAEUS, a physician, born in Cilicia, co-
temporary with Pliny, and founder of the Pneumatic
sect. He taught that the fire, air, water, and earth,
are not the true elements, but that their qualities are,
viz. heat, cold, moisture, and dryness $ and to these he
added a fifth element, which he called spirit, whence
his sect had its name.
Athen^lus, a Greek grammarian, born at Nau-
cratis in Egypt in the third century, one of the most
learned men of his tim<#. Of all his works we have
none extant but his Deipnosophi, i. e. the sophists at
table. There is an infinity of facts and quotations in
this work which render it very agreeable to admirers
of antiquity.
There was also a mathematician of this name, who
wrote a treatise on mechanics, which is inserted in the
yvorks of the ancient mathematicians, printed at Paris
in 1693, in folio, in Greek and Latin.
_ ATHENAGORAS, an Athenian philosopher, flou¬
rished about the middle of the ad century, and was
remarkable for his zeal for Christianity, and his great
learning, as appears from the apology which he ad¬
dressed to the emperors Marcus Aurelius Antoninus
and Lucius Commodus.
B b
ATHENODORUS,
A T H [ 194 ] A T H
Atlieno-' ATHENODORUS, a famous Stoic philosopher,
dor us horn at Tarsus, went to the court of Augustus, and
8 was made by him tutor to Tiberius. Augustus had a
. ~t *elis~ , great esteem for him, and found him by experience a
man of virtue and probity. He used to speak very
freely to the emperor. He, before he left the court
to return home, warned the emperor not to give him¬
self up to anger, but whenever he should be in a pas¬
sion, to rehearse the 24 letters of the alphabet before he
resolved to say or do any thing. He did not live to see
his bad success in the education of Tiberius.
ATHENOPOLTS, a town of the Massilienses, an
ancient nation of Gaul. It is conjectured by Harduin
to be the same with Telo Martias, now Toulon; by
others to be the same with Antipolis or Antibes.
ATPIENREE, a town of Ireland in the county of
Galway, and province of Connaught. W. Long. 8. 5.
N. Lat. 53. 14. It is governed by a portrieve, and
hath a barrack for three companies of foot. It hath
been a place of considerable strength ; but, like the
numerous churches and castles which surround it, has
felt the j'esistless force of time. Some of the walls and
towers, however, are still remaining, as monuments of
its former grandeur.
ATHENS, a celebrated city of Greec, and capital
of the ancient kingdom of Attica, situated in E. Long.
1 24. N. Lat. 38. 5. See Attica.
By whom In early times, that which was afterwards called the
founded. citadel was the whole city 5 and went under the name
of Cecropia, from its founder Cecrops, whom the
Athenians in after times affirmed to have been the first
builder of cities, and called this therefore by way of
eminence Poll's, i. e. the city. In the reign of Erich-
thonius it lost the name of Cecropia, and acquired
that of Athens, on what account is not certain ; the
most probable is, that it was so named in respect to
the goddess Minerva, whom the Greeks call Athene,
who was also esteemed its protectress. This old city
was seated on the top of a rock in the midst of a large
and pleasant plain, which, as the number of inhabi¬
tants increased, became full of buildings, which indu¬
ced the distinction of Aero and Catapolis, i. e. of the
upper and lower city. The extent of the citadel was
60 stadia ; it was surrounded by olive trees, and forti¬
fied, as some say, with a strong pallisade ; in succeed¬
ing times it was encompassed with a strong wall, in
which there were nine gates, one very large one, and
the rest small. The inside of the citadel was adorned
with innumerable edifices. The most remarkable of
which wrere, 1. The magnificent temple of Minerva,
Remark- styled Parthenon, because that goddess was a virgin,
able build- The Persians destroyed it; but it was rebuilt with still
logs. greater splendour by the famous Pericles, all of the
finest marble, with such skill and strength, that, in spite
of the rage of time and barbarous nations, it remains
perhaps the first antiquity in the world, and stands
a witness to the truth of what ancient writers have
recorded of the prodigious magnificence of Athens in
her flourishing state. 2. The temple of Neptune and
of Minervaj for it was divided into two parts: one
sacred to the god, in which was the salt fountain said
to have sprung up on the stroke of his trident; the other
to the goddess protectress of Athens, wherein was the
sacred olive which she produced, and her image which
fell down from heaven in the reign of Erichthonius.
3
At the back of Minerva’s temple was the public trea-
sury, which was burnt to the ground through the kna- U-y.
very of the treasurers, who having misapplied the re¬
venues of the state, took this short method of making
up accounts.
The lower city comprehended all the buildings sur¬
rounding the citadel, the fort Munychia, and the ha¬
vens Phalerum and Piraeus, the latter of which was
joined to the city by walls five miles in length ; that
on the north was built by Pericles, but that on the
south by Themistocles ; but by degrees the turrets
which were at first erected on those walls were turned
into dwelling-houses for the accommodation of the
Athenians, whose large city was now become too small
for them. The city, or rather the lower city, had 13
great gates, with the names of which it is not necessa¬
ry to trouble the reader. Among the principal edi¬
fices which adorned it, we may reckon, 1. The temple
of Theseus, erected by Conon, near its centre. Ad¬
jacent thereto, the young people performed their exer¬
cises. It was also a sanctuary for distressed persons,
slaves or free. 2. The Olympian temple erected in ho¬
nour of Jupiter, the honour of Athens, and of all
Greece. The foundation of it was laid by Pisistratus ;
it was carried on but slowly in succeeding times, 700
years elapsing before it was finished, which happened
under the reign of Adrian, who was particularly kind
to Athens: this was the first building in which the
Athenians beheld pillars. 3. The Pantheon, dedicat¬
ed to all the gods : a most noble structure, supported
by 120 marble pillars, and having over its great gate
two horses carved by Praxiteles : it is yet remaining,
as we shall have occasion to show hereafter when we
come to speak of the present state of this famous city.
In several parts of it were staoi or porticoes, wherein
people walked in rainy weather, and from whence a
sect of philosophers were denominated Stoics, became
their master Zeno taught in those porticoes.
There were at Athens two places called Ccramicus, ceramjc
from Ceramus the son of Bacchus and Ariadne ; one
within the city, containing a multitude of buildings of
all sorts ; the other in the suburbs, in which was the
academy and other edifices. The gymnasia of Athens
were many *, but the most remarkable were the Ly¬
ceum, Academia, and Cynosarges. The Lyceum stood
on the banks of the Ilissus ; some say it was built by
Pisistratus, others by Pericles, others by Lycurgus.
Here Aristotle taught philosophy, instructing such as
came to hear him as they walked, whence his disciples
are generally thought to derive the name of Peripa¬
tetics. The Ceramicus without the city was the distance
of six stadia from its w’alls. The academy made part
thereof; as to the name of which there is some dispute.
Some affirm that it was so called from Academus, an
ancient hero, who, when Helen was stolen by Theseus,
discovered the place where she lay hid to Castor and
Pollux : for which reason the Lacedemonians, when
they invaded Attica, always spared this place. Di-
csearchus writes, that Castor and Pollux had two Ar¬
cadians in their army, the one named Echedemus, the
other Marothus ; from the former of these he says this
place took its name, and that the borough of Mara¬
thon was so called from the other. It was a marshy
unwholesome place, till Cimon was at great pains to
have it drained ; and then it became extremely plea-
A T H [ 195’ ] A T H
• ienSi sant ami delightful, being adorned ivith shady walks,
^ where Plato read his lectures, and from thence his
t scholars were termed Academics. The Cynosarges was
Charges a p]ace ;n t]ie suburbs not far from the Lyceum : it
was famous on many accounts $ but particularly for a
noble gymnasium erected there, appointed for the spe¬
cial use of such as were Athenians only by one* side.
In after times Themistocles derived to himself ill will,
by carrying many of the nobility to exercise with him
here, because, being but of the half blood, he could exer¬
cise nowhere else but in this gymnasium. Antisthenes
instituted a sect of philosophers, who from the name of
this district, as many think, were styled Cynics.
Ha ns. The havens of Athens were three. First, the Pi¬
raeus, which was distant about 3$ or 40 stadia from the
city, till joined thereto by the long walls before-men¬
tioned, after which it became the principal harbour of
the city. It had three docks : Cantharos, Aphrodi-
sium, and Zea $ the first was so called from an ancient
hero, the second from the goddess Venus who had there
two temples, and the third from bread-corn. There
were in this port five porticoes, which joining together
formed one great one, called from thence Macra Sioa,
or the grand portico. There were likewise two great
markets or fora : one near the long portico, the other
near the city. The second port was Munichia, a pro¬
montory not far distant from Piraeus; a place very strong
by nature, and afterwards rendered far stronger by art.
It was of this that Epimenides said, if the Athenians
foresaw what mischief it would one day produce to them,
they would eat it away with their teeth. The third was
Phalerum, distant from the city, according to Thucy¬
dides, 35 stadia, but according to Pausanias only 20.
This was the most ancient harbour of Athens, as Pi-
; rasus was the most capacious.
Pr< nt Of this city, as it stands at present, we have the fol-
sta lowing account by Dr Chandler and other traveller's.
“ It is now called AthenS: and is not inconsiderable,
either in extent or the number of inhabitants. It enjoys
a fine temperature, and a serene sky. The air is clear
and wholesome, though not so delicately soft as in Ionia.
The town stands beneath the acropolis or citadel; not
encompassing the rock as formerly, but spreading into
the plain, chiefly on the west and north-west. Cor¬
sairs infesting it, the avenues were secured, and in 1676
the gates were regularly shut after sunset. It is now
open again : but several of the gateways remain, and a
guard of Turks patrols at midnight. Some masses of
brick-work, standing separate, without the town, be¬
longed perhaps to the ancient wall, of which other
traces also appear. The houses are mostly mean and
straggling ; many with large courts or areas before
them. In the lanes, the high walls on each side, which
are commonly white-washed, reflect strongly the heat
of the sun. The streets are very irregular ; and an¬
ciently were neither uniform nor handsome. They
have water conveyed in channels from Mount Hymet-
tus, and in the bazar or market-place is a large foun¬
tain. The Turks have several mosques and public
baths. The Greeks have convents for men and wo¬
men ; with many churches, in which service is regu-
larly performed ; and besides these, they have nume¬
rous oratories or chapels, some in ruins or consisting of
hare walls, frequented only on the anniversaries of the
*amts to whom they are dedicated. A portrait of the
owner on a board is placed in them on that occasion, Athens,
and removed when the solemnity of the day is over. 1 v—
“ The city of Cecrops is now a fortress with a thick 7
irregular wall, standing on the brink of precipices, and
enclosing a large area about twice as long as broad. cn>pg
Some portions of the ancient wall may be discovered
on the outside, particularly at the two extreme angles;
and in many places it is patched with pieces of columns,
and with marbles taken from the ruins. A considerable
sum had been recently expended on the side next Hy-
mettus, which was finished before we arrived. The
scaffolding had been removed to the end toward Pen-
tele ; but money was wanting, and the workmen were
withdrawn. The garrison consists of a few Turks, who
reside there with their families, and are called by the
Greeks Castriani, or the soldiers of the castle. The rock
is lofty, abrupt, and inaccessible, except the front, which
is towards the Piraeus; and on that quarter is a moun¬
tainous ridge, within cannon-shot. It is destitute of
water fit for drinking ; and supplies are daily carried
up in earthen jars, on horses and asses, from one of the
conduits of the town.
“ The acropolis furnished a very ample field to the
ancient virtuosi. It was filled with monuments of A-
thenian glory, and exhibited an amazing display of
beauty, of opulence, and of art ; each contending as
it were for the superiority. It appeared as one entire
offering to the Deity, surpassing in excellence and asto¬
nishing in richness. Heliodorus, named Periegetes,
the guide, had employed on it 15 books. The curio¬
sities of various kinds, with the pictures, statues, and
pieces of sculpture, were so many and so remarkable,
as to supply Polemo Periegetes with matter for four
volumes : and Strabo affirms, that as many would be
required in treating of other portions of Athens and
of Attica. In particular, the number of statues was
prodigious. Tiberius Nero, who was fond of images,
plundered the acropolis as well as Delphi and Olym¬
pia ; yet Athens, and each of these places, had not
fewer than 3000 remaining in the time of Pliny.
Even Pausanias seems here to be distressed by the mul¬
tiplicity of his subject. But this banquet, as it were,
of the senses has long been withdrawn ; and is now be¬
come like the tale of a vision. The spectator views
with concern the marble ruins intermixed with mean
flat-roofed cottages, and extant amid rubbish ; the sad
memorials of a nobler people ; which, however, as vi¬
sible from the sea, should have introduced modern
Athens to more early notice. They who reported it
was only a small village, must, it has been surmised,
have beheld the acropolis through the wrong end of
their telescopes.
“ The acropolis has now, as formerly, only one
entrance, which fronts the Piraeus. The ascent is by
traverses and rude fortifications furnished with cannon,
but without carriages, and neglected. By the second
gate is the station of the guard, who sits cross-legged
under cover, much at his ease, smoking his pipe, or
drinking coffee, with his companions about him in like ■
attitudes. Over this gateway is an inscription in large
characters on a stone turned upside down, and black
from the fires made below. It records a present of a
pair of gates. g
“Going farther up, you come to the ruins of the Propylea,
Propylea, an edifice which graced the entrance of the
B b 2 citadel.
A T H [i
Athens, citadel. This was one of the structures of Pericles,
““-’•v——who began it when Euthymenes was archon, 435 years
before Christ. It was completed in five years, at the
expence of 2012 talents. It was of marble, of the
Doric order, and had five doors to afford an easy pas¬
sage to the multitudes which resorted on business or de¬
votion to the acropolis.
While this fabric was building, the architect Mne-
sicles, whose activity equalled his skill, was hurt by a
fall, and the physicians despaired of his life: but Mi¬
nerva, who was propitious to the undertaking, appeared,
it was said, to Pericles, and prescribed a remedy, by
which he was speedily and easily cured. It was a plant
or herb growing round about the acropolis, and called
^ afterwards parthenium.
Temple of “ The right wing of the Propylea was a temple of
Victory. Victory. They related that iEgeus had stood there,
viewing the sea, and anxious for the return of his son
Theseus, who was gone to Crete with the tributary
children to be delivered to the Minotaur. The vessel
which carried them had black sails suiting the occasion
of its voyage ; and it was agreed, that, if Theseus
overcame the enemy, their colour should be changed to
white. The neglect of this signal was fatal to 7Egeus,
who, on seeing the sails unaltered, threw himself down
headlong from the rock, and perished. The idol was
named Victory without icings ; it was said, because the
news of the success of Theseus did not arrive but with
the conqueror. It had a pomegranate in the right
hand, and a helmet in the left. As the statue was
without pinions, it was hoped the goddess would remain
for ever on the spot.
li the left wing of the Propylea, and fronting the
temple of.Victory, was a building decorated with paint¬
ings by Polygnotus, of which an account is given by
Pausamas. 11ns edifice, as well as the temple, was
ot the Doric order, the columns fluted, and without
bases. Both contributed alike to the uniformity and
grandeur of the design ; and the whole fabric, when
finished, was deemed equally magnificent and orna¬
mental. The interval between Pericles and Pausanias
consists of several centuries. The Propylea remained
entire in the time of this topographer; and, as will be
shown, continued nearly so to a much later period.
It had then a roof ol white marble, which was unsur-
. passed either in the size ol the stones or in the beauty
of their arrangement; and before each wing was an
equestrian statue.
11 H*6 Propylea have ceased to he the entrance of
the acropolis. Hie passage which was between the
columns in the centre, is walled up almost to their
capitals, and above is a battery of cannon. The way
now winds before the front of the ancient structure ;
and turning to the left hand among rubbish and mean
walls, you come to the back part, and to the five
door-ways. Ihe soil without is risen higher than the
top of the two smaller. There, under the vault and
cannon, lies a heap of large stones, the ruin of the
. roof.
11 temple of Victory, standing on an abrupt
rock, has its back and one side encumbered with the
modern ramparts. The columns in the front being
walled up, you enter it by a breach in the side, within
the Propylea. It was used by the Turks as a maga¬
zine lor powder, until about the year 1636, when a
96 ]
A T H
sudden explosion, occasioned by lightning, carried away
the roof, with a house erected on it, belonging to the 1—
officer who commanded in the acropolis, whose'family, <o
except a girl, perished. The women 0 f the aga conti-^°“fcar-
nued to inhabit this quarter, but it is now abandoned In'
and in ruins. sjon 1
“ Ihe cell of the temple of Victory, which is of
white marble, very thick, and strongly cemented, suf¬
ficiently witnesses the great violence it has undergone;
the stones in many places being disjointed, as it were,
and lorced from their original position. Two of these
making an acute angle, the exterior edges touching,
without the crevice ; and the light abroad being much
stronger than in the room, which has a modern roof
and is dark, the portion in contact becoming pellucid,
had illumined the vacant space with a dim colour re¬
sembling that of amber. We were desired to examine
this extraordinary appearance, which the Greeks re¬
garded as a standing miracle, and which he Turks,
who could not refute them, beheld with equal asto¬
nishment. We found in the gape some coals, which
had been brought on a bit of earthen ware for the pur¬
pose of burning incense, as we supposed, and also a piece
of wax-taper, which probably had been lighted in ho¬
nour ol the saint and author of the wonder; hut our
Swiss unfortunately carrying his own candle too far in,
the smoke blackened the marble, and destroyed the
phenomenon.
“ The building opposite to the temple has served as
a foundation for a square lofty tower of ordinary ma¬
sonry. The columns of the front are walled up, and
the entrance is by a low ii’on gate in the side. It is now
used as a place of confinement for delinquents : but in
1676 was a powder magazine. In the wall of a ram¬
part near it are some fragments of exquisite sculpture,
representing the Athenians fighting with the Amazons.
These belong to the frieze, which was then standing.
In the second century, when Pausanias lived, much of
the painting was impaired by age, but some remained,
and the subjects were chiefly taken from the Trojan
story. The traces are since vanished.
“ The pediment of the temple of Victory, with that
of the opposite wing, is described as remaining in 1676;
but on each building a square tower had been erected.
One of the steps in the front of the Propylea was en¬
tire, with the four columns, their entablature and the
pediment. The portico, to which the five door-ways
belonged, consisted of a large square room, roofed with
slabs of marble, which were laid on two great marble
beams, and sustained by four beautiful columns. These
were Ionic, the proportions of this order best suiting
that purpose, as taller than the Doric ; the reason it was
like wise preferred in the pronaos of the temple of Vic¬
tory. Ihe roof of the Propylea, after standing above
2000 years, was probably destroyed, with all the pedi¬
ments, by the Venetians in 1687, when they battered
the castle in front, firing red-hot bullets, and took it,
but were compelled to x’esign it again to the Turks in
the following year. The exterior walls, and in parti¬
cular a side of the temple of Victory, retain many marks
of their hostilities. ji
“ The chief ornament of the acropolis was the Par-TeropM
thenon or great temple of Minerva, a most superb andMiiielV3,
magnificent fabric. The Persians had burned the edi¬
fice which before occupied the site, and was called
hecatompedon,
A T H
hens.
12
13! statue
Te.ic
fofitrted
inti l
mo ie<
hecatompedon, from its being 100 feet square. The
1 zeal of Pericles anti of all the Athenians was exerted
in providing a far more ample and glorious residence
for their favourite goddess. The architects were Cal¬
licrates and Ictinus j and a treatise on the building
was written by the latter and Carpion. It was of
white marble, of the Doric order, the columns fluted
and without bases, the number in front eight; and
adorned with admirable sculpture. The story of the
birth of Minerva was carved in the front pediment j
and in the back, her contest with Neptune for the
country. The beasts of burden, which had conveyed
up the materials, were regarded as sacred, and recom¬
pensed with pastures j and one, which had voluntarily
headed the train, was maintained during life, without
labour, at the public expence.
“ The statue of Minerva, made for this temple by
Phidias, was of ivory, 26 cubits or 39 feet high. It
was decked with pure gold to the amount of 44 ta¬
lents, so disposed by the advice of Pericles as to be
taken off and weighed if required. The goddess was
represented standing, with her vestment reaching to
her feet. Her helmet had a sphinx for the crest, and
on the sides were griffins. The head of Medusa was
on her breastplate. In one hand she held her spear,
and in the other supported an image of Victory about
four cubits high. The battle of the Centaurs and
Lapithse was carved on her sandals j and on her shield,
which lay at her feet, the war of the gods and giants,
and the battle of the Athenians and Amazons. By
her spear was a serpent, in allusion to the story of
Erichthonius ; and on the pedestal, the birth of Pando¬
ra. The Sphinx, the Victory, and Serpent, were ac¬
counted eminently wonderful. This image was placed
in the temple in the first year of the 87th Olympiad, in
which the Peloponnesian war began. The gold was
stripped oft' by the tyrant Lychares, when Demetrius
Poliorcetes compelled him to fly. The same plunderer
plucked down the golden shields in the acropolis, and
carried away the golden Victories, with the precious
vessels and ornaments provided for the Panathenaean
festival.
“ Lhe Parthenon remained entire for many ages af¬
ter it was deprived of the goddess. The Christians
converted it into'a church, and the Mahometans into
a mosque. It is mentioned in the letters of Crusius,
and miscalled the 1*atithcoji, and the temple of the un¬
known God. 1 he Venetians under Eoningsmark, when
they besieged the acropolis in 1687, threw a bomb,
which demolished the roof, and setting fire to some
powder, did much damage to the fabric. The floor,
which is indented, still witnesses the place of its fall.
I his was the sad forerunner of farther destruction j the
1 urks breaking the stones, and applying them to the
building of a new mosque, which stands within the ruin,
or to the repairing their houses and the walls of the for¬
tress. I he vast pile of ponderous materials,' which lay
ready, is greatly diminished ; and the whole structure
will gradually be consumed and disappear.
“ Ihe temple of Minerva in 1676 was, as Wheeler
and Spoil assert, the finest mosque in the world, with¬
out comparison. The Greeks had adapted the fabric
to their ceremonial, by constructing at one end a semi¬
circular recess for the holy tables, with a window j for
2
[ I97 1
A T H
Athens.-
before it was enlightened only by the door, obscurity
being preferred under the heathen ritual, except on '
festivals, when it yielded to splendid illuminations :
the reason, it has been surmised, why temples are com¬
monly found simple and unadorned on the insides. In
the wall beneath the window were inserted two pieces
of the stone called phengites a species of marble dis¬
covered in Cappadocia in the time of Nero 5 and so
transparent that he erected with it a temple to For¬
tune, which was luminous within when the door was shut.
These pieces were perforated, and the light which en¬
tered was tinged with a reddish or yellowish hue. The
picture of the Panagia or Virgin Mary, in mosaic, on the
ceiling of the recess, remained ; with two jasper columns
belonging to the screen, which had separated that part
from the nave 5 and within, a canopy supported by four
pillars of porphyry, with Corinthian capitals of white
marble, under which the table had been placed ; and
behind it, beneath the window, a marble chair for the
archbishop j and also a pulpit standing on four small pil¬
lars in the middle aile. The Turks had white-washed
the walls, to obliterate the portraits of saints, and the
other paintings, with which the Greeks decorate their
places of worship ; and had erected a pulpit on the right
hand for their iman or reader. The roof was disposed in
square compartments ; the stones massive; and some had
fallen in. It had been sustained in the pronaos by six
columns; but the place of one was then supplied by a
large pile of rude masonry, the Turks not having been
able to fill up the gap more worthily. The roof of the
naos was supported by colonnades ranging with the door,
on each side ; and consisting of 22 pillars below, and of
23 above. The odd one was over the entrance, which
by that disposition was left wide and unembarrassed.
In the portico were suspended a few lamps, to be used
in the mosque at the seasons when the Mussulmans
assemble before day-break, or to be lighted up round
the minaret, as is the custom during their Ramazan or
Lent. '
“ It is not easy to conceive a more striking object Magnie-
than the Parthenon, though now a mere ruin. The co- cent
lumns within the naos have all been removed : but on
the floor may be seen the circles which directed the
workmen in placing them ; and at the farther end is
a groove across it, as for one of the partitions of the
cell. The recess erected by the Christians is demolish¬
ed ; and from the rubbish of the ceiling the Turkish
boys collect bits of the mosaic, of different colours,
which composed the picture. We were told at Smyr¬
na, that this substance had taken a polish, and been
set in buckles. This cell is about half demolished ;
and in the columns which surround it is a large
gap near the middle. On the walls are some traces of
the paintings. Before the portico is a reservoir sunk
in the rock, to supply the Turks with water for the
purifications customary on entering their mosques. In
it, on the left hand, is the rubbish of the pile erected
to supply the place of a column ; and on the right, a
staircase, which leads out on the architrave, and has a
marble or two with inscriptions, but worn so as not to
be legible. It belonged to the minaret, which has been
destroyed.
“ The travellers, to whom we are indebted for »»Sculpture,
account of the mosque, have likewise given a descrip¬
tion
A T H <;■ [ 198 ]
A T H
Allien*, tion of the sculpture then remaining in the front. In
 v~ -1 the middle of the pediment was seen a bearded Jupiter,
with a majestic countenance, standing, and naked j the
right arm broken. The thunderbolt, it has been sup¬
posed, w'as placed in that hand, and the eagle between
his feet. On his right was a figure, it is conjectured,
of Victory, clothed to the mid-leg 5 the head and arms
gone. This was leading on the horses of a car, in
which Minerva sat, young and unarmed ; her head¬
dress, instead of a helmet, resembling that of a Ve¬
nus. The generous ardour and lively spirit visible in
this pair of celestial steeds, was such as bespoke the
hand of a master, bold and delicate, of a Phidias or
Praxiteles. Behind Minerva was a female figure, with¬
out a head, sitting with an infant in her lap ; and in
this angle of the pediment was the emperor Hadrian
with his arm round Sabina, both reclining, and seem¬
ing to regard Minerva with pleasure. On the left side
of Jupiter were five or six other trunks, to complete the
assembly of deities into which he received her. These
figures were all wonderfully carved, and appeared as
big as life. Hadrian and his consort, it is likely, were
complimented by the Athenians with places among
the marble gods in the pediment, as benefactors. Both
of them may be considered as intruders on the origi¬
nal company j and possibly their heads were placed
on trunks, which before had other owners. They still
possess their corner, and are easy to be recognised
though not unimpaired. The rest of the statues are
defaced, removed, or fallen. Morosini was ambitious
to enrich Venice with the spoils of Athens j and by an
attempt to take down the principal group, hastened
their ruin. Nearly twenty years ago, Lord Elgin, then
British ambassador at the Porte, procured an order from
the Turkish government for the removal of some of these
remains. Accordingly a considerable number of the
bas-reliefs of the Parthenon were sent to England, along
with many other precious antiquities, and they are now
16 deposited in the British Museum,
f.rectheuin. “ Neptune and Minerva, once rival deities, were
joint and amicable tenants of the Erectheum, in which
was an altar of Oblivion. The building was double,
a partition wall dividing it into two temples, which
fronted different ways. One was the temple of Nep¬
tune Erectheus, the other of Minerva Polias. The
latter was entered by a square portico connected with
a marble skreen, which fronts towards the Propylea.
The door of the cell was on the left hand: and at the
farther end of the passage was a door leading down into
the Pandros^um, which was contiguous.
Temple tff “ Before the temple of Neptune Erectheus was an
Neptune altar of Jupiter the supreme, on which no living thing
Erectheus. was sacrificed, but they offered cakes without wine.
Within it was the altar of Neptune and Erectheus j
and two, belonging to Vulcan and a hero named Bu-
tes, who had transmitted the priesthood to his poste¬
rity, which were called Butadce. On the walls were
paintings of this illustrious family, from which the
priestess of Minerva Polias was also taken. It was as¬
serted that Noptune had ordained the well of salt wa¬
ter, and the figure of a trident in the rock, to be me¬
morials of his contending for the country. The for¬
mer, Pausauias remarks, was no great wonder, for
other wells of a similar nature were found inland $ but
this when the south wind, blew, afforded the sound of
waves.
“ The temple of Minerva Polias was dedicated
all Attica, and possessed the most ancient statue
the goddess. The demi or towns had other deities, lla8‘
but their zeal for her suffered no diminution. The
image, which they placed in the acropolis, then the
city, was in after ages not only reputed consumntately
holy, but believed to have fallen down from heaven in
the reign of Erichthonius. It was guarded by a large
serpent, which was regularly served with offerings of
honeyed cakes for his food. This divine reptile was of
great sagacity, and attained to an extraordinary age.
He wisely withdrew from the temple when in danger
from the Medes ; and, it is said, was living in the se¬
cond century. Before this statue was an owl ; and a
golden lamp. This continued burning day and night.
It was contrived by a curious artist, named Callimachus,
and did not require to be replenished with oil oftener
than once a year. A brazen palm-tree, reaching to
the roof, received its smoke. Aristion had let the
holy flame expire while Sylla besieged him, and was
abhorred for bus impiety. The original olive-tree,
said to have been produced by Minerva, was kept in
this temple. When the Medes set fire to the acropo¬
lis, it was consumed; but, they asserted, on the follow¬
ing day, was found to have shot up again as much as a
cubit. It grew low and crooked, but was esteemed
very holy. The priestess of Minerva was not allowed
to eat of the new cheese of Attica ; and, among her
perquisites, was a measure of wheat, and one of barley,
for every birth and burial. This temple was again
burned when Callias was archon, 24 years after the
death of Pericles. Near it was the tomb of Cecrops,
and within it Erectheus was buried.
“ The ruin of the Erectheum is of white marble;
the architectural ornaments of very exquisite workman¬
ship, and uncommonly curious. The columns of the
front of the temple of Neptune are standing with the
architrave ; and also the skreen and portico of Minerva
Polias, and with a portion of the cell retaining traces of
the partition-wall. The order is Ionic. An edifice
revered by ancient Attica, as holy in the highest de¬
gree, was in 1676 the dwelling of a Turkish family,
and is now deserted and neglected $ but many ponde¬
rous stones and much rubbish must be removed before
the well and trident would appear. The former, at
least, might probably be discovered. The portico is
used as a powder-magazine j but we obtained permis¬
sion to dig and examine the outside. The door-way
of the vestibule is walled up, and the soil risen nearly
to the top of the door-way of the Pandroseum. By the
portico is a battery commanding the town, from which
ascends an amusing hum. The Turks fire from it, to
give notice of the commencement of Ramazan or of
their Lent, and of Bairam or the holy-days, and on
other public occasions.
“ The Pandroseum is a small, but very particular
building, of which no satisfactory idea can be commu¬
nicated by description. The entablature is supported
by women called Caryatides. Their story is thus re¬
lated. The Greeks, victorious in the Persian war,
jointly destroyed Carya, a city of the Peloponnesus,
which had favoured the common enemy. They cut
off
by
0f Of Miner-
A T H [ 199 ] . A T H
kthens. olT the males, and carried into captivity the women,
whom they compelled to retain their former dress and
ornaments, though in a state of servitude. The archi¬
tects of those times, to perpetuate the memory of their
punishment, represented them, as in this instance, each
with a burden on her head, one hand uplifted to it and
the other hanging down by her side. The images were
in number six, all looking toward the Parthenon. The
four in front, with that next to the Propylea, remain,
but mutilated, and their faces besmeared with paint.
The soil is risen almost to the top of the basement on
which they are placed. This temple was open or
latticed between the statues j and in it also was a stunt¬
ed olive-tree, with an altar of Jupiter Herceus stand¬
ing under it. The Propylea are nearly in a line with
the space dividing it from the Parthenon j which dis¬
position, besides its other effects, occasioned the front
and flank of the latter edifice to be seen at once by those
19 who approached it from the entrance of the acropolis.
(Jupiter “ The ruin of the temple of Jupiter Olympius con-
( mpms. glsts 0f prodigious columns, tall and beautiful, of the
Corinthian order, fluted ; some single, some supporting
the architraves; with a few massive marbles beneath :
the remnant of a vast heap, which only many ages could
have consumed and reduced into so scanty a compass.
The columns are of very extraordinary dimensions, be¬
ing about six feet in diameter, and near 60 in height.
The number without the cell was 116 or 120. Seven¬
teen were standing in 1676; but a few years before
we arrived, one was overturned with much difficulty,
and applied to the building a new mosque in the bazar
or market-place. This violence was avenged by the
bashaw of Negropont, who made it a pretext for ex¬
torting from the vaiwode or governor 15 purses; the
pillar being, he alleged, the property of their master
the Grand Signior. It was an angular column, and of
consequence in determining the dimensions of the fabric.
We regretted that the fall of this mighty mass had not
been postponed until we came, as it would have afford¬
ed an opportunity of inspecting and measuring some
members which .we found far too lofty to be attempted.
On a piece of the architrave, supported by a couple of
columns, are two parallel walls, of modern masonry,
arched about the middle, and again near the top. You
are told it has been the habitation of a hermit, doubt¬
less of a stylite; but of whatever building it has been
part, and for whatever purpose designed, it must have
been erected thus high in air, while the immense ruin
of this huge structure was yet scarcely diminished, and
the heap inclined so as to render it accessible. It was
remarked that two stones of a step in the front had co¬
alesced at the extremity, so that no juncture could be
perceived ; and the like was discovered also in a step of
the Parthenon. In both instances it may be attributed
to a concretory fluid, which pervades the marble in
the quarry. Some portion remaining in the pieces,
when taken green as it were, and placed in mutual
contact, it exuded and united them by a process similar
to that in a bone of an animal when broken and proper-
ly set.
pi' 's “ besides the more stable antiquities, many detach-
ar jUe et^ pieces are found in the town, by the fountains, in
sc 'ture, ^e streets, the walls, the houses, and churches. A-
mong these are fragments of sculpture ; a marble chair
or two, which probably belonged to the gymnasia or
theatres : a sun-dial at the catholicon or cathedral, in- Athens
scribed with the name of the maker ; and, at the ar- Ij
chiepiscopal house close by, a very curious vessel of
marble, used as a cistern to receive water, but once
serving, it is likely, as a public standard or measure.
Many columns occur ; with some maimed statues ; and
pedestals, several with inscriptions, and almost buried
in earth. A custom has prevailed, as at Chios, of
fixing in the wall, over the gateways and doors of the
houses, carved stones, most of which exhibit the fune¬
ral supper. In the courts of the houses lie many
round stylae, or pillars, once placed on the graves of
the Athenians; and a great number are still to be seen
applied to the same use in the Turkish burying grounds
before the acropolis. These generally have concise
inscriptions, containing the name of the person, and of
the town and tribe to which the deceased belonged.
Demetrius the Phalerian, who endeavoured to restrain
sepulchral luxury, enacted, that no person should have
more than one, and that the height should not exceed
three cubits. Another species, which resembles our
modern head-stones, is sometimes adorned with sculp¬
ture, and has an epitaph in verse. Wc saw a few mu¬
tilated Hermse. These were busts, on long quadran¬
gular bases, the heads frequently of brass, invented by
the Athenians. Athens at present contains, according
to Dr Clarke, 15,000 inhabitants. According to Mr
Hobhouse it contains 1200 or 1300 bouses, of which
300 are occupied by Albanians, 400 by Turks, and
500 or 600 by Greeks. The houses are ill built, and
the streets narow. Of mosques, churches, and chapels
of all sorts, it contains nearly 200. The town lies
chiefly on the north and north-west side of the acropo¬
lis. The harbour of Piraeus is now almost desolate,
not a single bouse being near it, except a wretched hut
called the customhouse. A few small vessels resort to
it, to trade in oil, the staple production of Attica.
ATIIERINA. See Ichthyology Index.
ATHEROMA, in Surgery, a tumor without pain or
discoloration of the skin, containing, in a membranous
bag, matter resembling pap, intermixed with hard and
stony particles. These tumors are usually cured bv in¬
cision.
ATHERTON, or Atherston, a town of War¬
wickshire in England, situated on the river Stour, in
w. Long. 1. 30. N. Lat. 52. 40. It is a considerable
town, and had formerly a monastery ; but now is best
known by its fair, which is the greatest in England for
cheese. Population 2921 in 1811.
AT HE SIS, in Ancient Geography, a river of the
Cisalpine Gaul, which, rising in the Rhetian Alps, in
Mount Brenna, in the countv of Tirol, runs southwards
and washes Tridentum and Verona, which last it di¬
vides ; and after passing this, bends its course east¬
wards, in a parallel direction with the Po, and falls in¬
to the Adriatic between Fossa Claudia and Pbilistina :
it separated the Euganei, an ancient people, from the
^ eneti. The people dwelling on it are called Atheeini
(Pliny). Its modern name is the Adige.
ATHLETJE, in antiquity, persons of strength and
agility, disciplined to perform in the public games.
The word is originally Greek, «0Ahtjjs : formed from
ubXos, cej'tamen, “ combat ;” whence also the
prize or reward adjudged the victor.—Under athletic
were comprehended wrestlers, boxers, runners, leapers,
throwers ,
I
A T H [ 200 ] A T H
throwers of the disk, and those practised in other ex¬
ercises exhibited in the Olympic, Pythian, and other
solemn sports : for the conquerors wherein there were
established prizes.
ATHLETIC HABIT, denotes a strong hale con¬
stitution of body. Anciently it signified a full fleshy
corpulent state, such as the athletse endeavoured to
arrive at. The athletic habit is esteemed the highest
pitch of health •, yet it is dangerous, and the next door
to disease j since, when the body is no longer capable
of being improved, the next alteration must be for the
worse. The chief object of the athletic diet, was to
obtain a firfh, bulky, weighty body $ bv force of which,
more than art and agility, they frequently overpower¬
ed their antagonist: hence they fed altogether on dry,
solid, and viscous meats. In the earlier days, their
chief food was dry figs and cheese, which was called
art da sngtnafto, £»ig« and Amcno-it
Oribasius, or, as others say, Pythagoras, first brought
this into disuse, and substituted flesh in lieu thereof. They
had a peculiar bread called : They exercised,
ate, and drank, without ceasing: they were not allowed
to leave off eating when satiated ; but were obliged to’
cram on till they could hold no more ; by which means
they at length acquired a degree of voracity which
to us seems incredible, and a strength proportional.
Witness what Pausanias relates of the four celebrated
athletse, Polydamus the Thessalian, Milo the Crotoni-
an, Theagenes the Thasian, and Euthymus the Locrian :
The second is said to have carried a bull on his back
a considerable way, then to have knocked him down
with a blow of his fist, and lastly, as some add, devoured
him at a meal.
ATHLONE, a town of Westmeath in Ireland,
lying in W. Long. 8. o. N. Lat. 53. 20. It is situa¬
ted on both sides of the Shannon, and both parts are
united by a strong, high-raised, and well-built bridge,
in the middle of which stands a monument, with some
figures cut in marble, together with Queen Elizabeth’s
arms, and some inscriptions declaring the time and the
founders of the building. The castle was founded by
King John on some land belonging to St Peter’s abbey,
for which he granted a compensation. It is built on
a high-raised round hill, resembling one of the Danish
raths or forts. Here were formerly two convents or
monasteries. Athlone was formerly strongly fortified,
and considered as of very great importance. In the
year 1691, a part of the English army under General
Ginckle, in the very face of the Irish, who were
strongly intrenched on the opposite shore, fording the
river, formed, and took possession of the town, not
losing more than 50 men in the attack ; which is
esteemed as bold and successful an enterprise as any re¬
corded in history. There are generally two troops of
horse and four companies of foot quartered at Athlone.
This town gives the title of earl to the family of Ginckle,
as a reward for the noble services performed by the
general.
ATHOL, the most northern district of Perthshire
in Scotland, extending in length 43 miles, and in
breadth 30. It is bordered on the north by Badenoch,
on the west by Lochaber, on the east and south-east
by Mar and Gowrie, on the south by Stratherne and
Perth Proper, and on the south-west by Braidalbane.
The country is very rough and mountainous, and
contains part of the ancient Caledonian forest $ but jj
these mountains are intersected with fruitful valleys. Athos.
Here are several villages, but no towns of any consider-
ation. The most noted place is Blair Castle, seated on
the river Tilt, near its influx into the Garie : a pleasant
limpid stream that falls into the Tav. This castle be¬
longs to the duke of Athol, who derives his title from
this district, and lives here with great magnificence. In
the same neighbourhood we see the pass of Gillicranky,
rendered memorable by the battle fought here in the
beginning of King William’s reign, between that mo¬
narch’s general M‘Kay, and the Highlanders adhering
to King James. See Gillicranky.
ATHOS, a celebrated mountain of Chalcidia in
Macedonia, situated in E. Long. 26. 20. N. Lat. 40. 10.
The ancients entertained extravagant notions concern¬
ing its height. Mela affirmed it to be so high as to
reach above the clouds j and Martianus Capellinus,
that it was six miles high. It was a received opinion
that the summit of Mount Athos was above the middle
region of the air, and that it never rained there ; be¬
cause the ashes left on the altars erected near the summit
were always found as they were l.eft, dry and unscat¬
tered. But if on many accounts it was famous among
the ancients, it is no less so among the moderns. The
Greeks, struck with its singular situation and the vene¬
rable appearance of its towering'ascent, erected so many
churches, monasteries, hermitages, &c. upon it, that
it became in a manner inhabited by devotees, and from
thence received the name of the Holy Mountain ; which
name it still retains, though many of those consecrated
works are now decayed. According to the accounts
of modern travellers, this mountain advances into the
Archipelago, being joined to the continent by an isth¬
mus about half a league in breadth. It is about 30
miles in circumference, and its height is only 3353
feet. It may be travelled over in about three days,
and may be seen 90 miles off. There is a fine pro¬
spect from the top ; but, like all other high moun¬
tains, the cold on its summit is excessive. It abounds
with many different kinds of plants and trees, parti¬
cularly the pine and fir. In the valleys grows a plant
called elegia, whose branches serve to make pens for
writing. In short, this mountain is said to be adorned
with variety of herbage and evergreens, a multitude
of springs and streams, and woods growing near the
shore, so as to be one of the most agreeable places in
the world.
It is now inhabited by Caloyers, a sort of Greek
monks, of the order of St Basil, who never marry,
though others of that church do. They abstain from
flesh, and fare very hardly, their ordinary meal being
olives pickled when they are ripe. They are about
6000 in all, and inhabit 24 large old monasteries,
surrounded with high walls for a defence against ban¬
ditti. They are respected by the Turks, and are not
idle like others ; but labour in the fields, and in various
mechanic arts. The researches of Professor Carlyle
for some years have at length completely dissipated the
expectations long indulged of finding valuable manu¬
scripts in these monasteries.
Through this mountain, or rather through the isth¬
mus behind it, Xerxes king of Persia is said to have
cut
A T K [ 201 ] A T L
.hos cut a passage for his fleet when about to invade Greece.
|| In this work he spent three whole years, and employ-
Kins. et[ ;n it all the forces on board^the fleet. He is also
u-y—said, before the work was begun, to have written the
following insolent and ridiculous letter to the moun¬
tain : “ Athos, thou proud and aspiring mountain,
that liftest up thy head to the very skies, I advise thee
not to be so audacious as to put rocks and stones that
cannot be cut in the way of my workmen. If thou
rnakest that opposition, I will cut thee entirely down,
and throw thee headlong into the sea.” The truth of
such a canal being cut was long denied, but has at length
been proved. Its remains were distinctly seen by Dr
Sibthorp, partly filled with water. (See Walpole’s
Memoirs relating to Turkey, 1817.) '
ATHWART, in Navigation, is synonymous with
across the line of the course.
Athwart the Fore-foot, is a phrase that denotes the
flight of a cannon ball from one ship across the course
of another, to intercept the latter, and oblige her to
shorten sail, that the former may come near enough to
examine her.
ATHiVART-Hause, expresses the situation of a ship,
when she is driven by wind or tide, or any other acci¬
dent, across the fore part of another.
Athwart-Ships, reaching across ships from one side
to the other.
ATHY, a town of Ireland, in the county of Kil¬
dare, not far from the borders of Queen’s county.
W. Long. 7. o. N. Lat. 53. o. It is situated on the
river Barrow ; is governed by a sovereign, two bailiffs,
and a recorder; and is, alternately with Naas, the as¬
sizes town.
ATIBAR, the name by which the inhabitants of
the kingdom of Gago in Africa call gold dust ; from
which word, Europeans, and especially the French,
have composed the word tibir, which also signifies gold
dust among those who trade in that commodity.
ATIGNY, an ancient town of France, in the de¬
partment of Ardennes, where several of the kings of
France had their residence. It is seated on the river
Aisne, in E. Long. 4. 47. N. Lat. 49. 30.
ATKINS, Sir Robert, lord chief baron of the
-exchequer, was born in 1621, and educated at the uni¬
versity of Oxford, from whence he removed to the inns
of court, and became eminent in the law. He was
made knight of the Bath, with many other persons of
the first distinction, at the coronation of King Charles
H. In 1672, he was appointed one of the judges of
common pleas j in which honourable station he con¬
tinued till 1679, when, foreseeing the troubles that
soon after ensued, he thought fit to resign, and retire
into the country. In 1689, he was made by King
William lord cWef baron ol the exchequer; and about
the same time executed the office of speaker to the
house of lords, which had been previously refused by
the marquis of Halifax. He distinguished himself by
an unshaken zeal for the laws and liberties of his coun¬
try. He wrote several pieces, which have been col¬
lected into one volume 8vo, under the title of Parlia-
vientary and Political Tracts. The authors of the
Biographia Britannica remark, that whoever inclines
to be thoroughly informed of the true constitution of
his country, of the grounds and reasons of the revo-
Jutmn, arn^ o^f the danger of suffering prerogative to
jostle law, cannot read a better or plainer book than Atkins
those tracts ol Sir Robert Atkins. He died in 1709, |!
aged 88. Atlantis.
Atkins, Sir Robert, son of the preceding, was horn
in 1646, and was eminent for all the virtues that could
adorn an English gentleman. He wrote The Ancient
and Present State of Gloucestershire, in one large vo¬
lume in folio ; and died October 29. 1711,
ATKYNS, Richard, was descended from a good
family, and was born at Tuffleigh in Gloucestershire
in the year 1615. He was educated at Oxford, from
whence he removed to Lincoln’s-inn, and afterwards
distinguished himself by his loyalty to King Charles I.
for whom he raised a troop of horse at his own ex¬
pence. At the Restoration he was made one of the
deputy lieutenants of Gloucestershire, and distinguish¬
ed himself by his attachment to the government.
But at length being committed prisoner to the Mar-
shalsea in Southwark for debt, he died there on the
14th of September 1677. He wrote several pieces,
particularly A Treatise on the Original and Growth -
of Printing.
A ILANTIC ocean, that bounded by Europe and
Africa on the east, and by America on the west.
ATLANTICA. See Atlantis.
ATLANTIDES, in Astronomy, a denomination
given to the Pleiades, or seven stars, sometimes also
called Vergillice. They are thus called, as being suppo¬
sed by the poets to have been the daughters either of
Atlas or his brother Ilesperus, who were translated in¬
to heaven.
ATLANTIS, Atalantis, or Atlantica, an
island mentioned by Plato and some others of the an¬
cients, concerning the real existence of which many
disputes have been raised. Homer, Horace, and the
other poets make two Atlanticas, calling them He-
spendes and Elysian Fields, making them the habita¬
tions of the blessed. The most distinct account of this
island we have in Plato’s Timeeus, of which Mr Cham¬
bers gives the following abridgment. “ The Atlantis was
a large island in the western ocean, situated before or
opposite to the straits of Gades. Out of this island
there was an easy passage into some others, which lay
near a large continent exceeding in bigness all Europe
and Asia. Neptune settled in this island (from whose
son Atlas its name was derived), and divided it among
his ten sons. To the youngest fell the extremity of the
island, called Gadir, which in the language of the
country signifies /er/Pe, or abundant in sheep. The de¬
scendants of Neptune reigned here from father to son,
for a great number of generations, in the order of pri-
m^geniture, during the space of 9000 years. They al¬
so possessed several other islands ; and passing into Eu¬
rope and Africa, subdued all Libya as far as Egypt,
and all Europe to Asia Minor. At length the island
sunk under water ; and for a long time afterwards the
sea thereabouts was full of rocks and shelves.”
Many of the moderns also are of opinion, that the
existence of the Atlantis is not to be looked upon as
entirely fabulous. Some take it to have been Ameri¬
ca ; and from thence, as well as from a passage in Se¬
neca’s Medea, and some other obscure hints, they
imagine that the new world was n6t unknown to the
ancients. But allowing this to be the case, the above-
mentioned continent, which was said to lie beyond At-
C c lautis,
A T L [ 202 ] ATM
Atlantis lantis, would seem rather to have been the continent of
(j America than Atlantis itself. The learned Rudbeck,
Atlas- professor in the university of Upsal, in a work entitled
v Atlaniica sive Manhcim, endeavours to prove that Swe¬
den and Norway are the Atlantis of the ancients j but
this its situation will by no means allow us to believe.
By Kircher it is supposed to have been an island extend¬
ing from the Canaries quite to the Azores j that it was
really swallowed up by the ocean, as Plato asserts ; and
that these small islands are the shattered remains of it
which were left standing.
Atlantis, New, is the name of a fictitious phi¬
losophical commonwealth, of which a description has
been given by Lord Bacon. The New Atlantis is
supposed to be an island in the South sea, to which
the author was driven in a voyage from Peru to Japan.
The composition is an ingenious fable, formed after
the manner of the Utopia of Sir Thomas More, or
Campanella’s City of the Sun. Its chief design is to
exhibit a model or description of a college, instituted
for the interpretation of nature and the production of
great and marvellous works, for the benefit of men,
under the name of Solomon's House, or “ the college of
the six days work.” This much, at least, is finished j
and with great beauty and magnificence. The author
proposed also a frame of laws, or of the best state or
mould of a commonwealth. But this part is not exe¬
cuted.
ATLAS, king of Mauritania, a great astronomer,
contemporary with Moses. From his taking observa¬
tions of the stars from a mountain, the poets feigned
him to have been turned into a mountain, and to su¬
stain the heavens on his shoulders. Being an excellent
astronomer, and the first who taught the doctrine of
the sphere, they tell us that his daughters were turned
into stars : seven of them forming the Pleiades, and
other seven the Hyades.
Atlas, a chain of mountains in Africa, lying be¬
tween the 20th and 25th degree of north latitude, and
supposed almost to divide the continent from east to
west. They are said to have derived their name from
Atlas king of Mauritania, who was a great astronomer.
They are greatly celebrated by the ancients on account
of their height, insomuch that the above-mentioned
king, who is said to have been transformed into a
mountain, was feigned to bear up the heavens on his
shoulders. We are assured, however, by Dr Shaw, that
the part of this chain of mountains which fell under his
observation could not stand in competition either with
the Alps or Apennines. He tells us, that if we con¬
ceive a number of hills, usually of the perpendicular
height of 400, 500, or 600 yards, with an easy ascent,
and several groves of fruit or forest trees, rising up in a
succession of ranges above one another ; and that if to
this prospect we add now and then a rocky precipice,
and on the summit of each imagine a miserable mud-
walled village ; we shall then have a just idea of the
mountains of Atlas.
* Hist of According to M. Chenier *, this mountain is form-
Morocco, ed by an endless chain of lofty eminences, divided into
** different countries, inhabited by a multitude of tribes,
whose ferocity permits no stranger to approach. “ I
have not been able (continues he) to obtain a sufficient
knowledge of these mountains to describe them aecu-
3
rately : What Leo Africanus has said of them is very ^t|aj
vague j and his account is the less to be regarded at Atmo.’
present, as it is now about three centuries since he 5pl>ere.
wrote, and the face of the country has been in that 'r~
time totally changed. Nothing perhaps would be more
interesting to the curiosity of the philosopher, or con¬
duce more to the improvement of our knowledge in na¬
tural history, than a journey over Mount Atlas. The
climate, though extremely cold in winter, is very heal¬
thy and pleasant5 the valleys are well cultivated, abound
in fruits, and are diversified by forests and plentiful
springs, the streams of which uniting at a little distance,
form great rivers, and lose themselves in the ocean.
According to the reports of the Moors, there are
many quarries of marble, granite, and other valuable
stone, in these mountains : It is probable there are also
mines, but the inhabitants have no idea of these riches j
they consider their liberty, which their situation enables
them to defend, as the most inestimable of all treasures.”
Atlas, in matters of literature, denotes a book of
universal geography, containing maps of all the known
parts of the world.
Atlas, in Commerce, a silk-satin, manufactured in
the East Indies. There are some plain, some striped,
and some flowered, the flowers of which are either
gold or only silk. There are atlasses of all colours,
but most of them false, especially the red and the crim¬
son. The manufacture of them is admirable j the gold
and silk being worked together after such a manner as
no workman in Europe can imitate j yet they are very
far from having that fine gloss and lustre which the
French know how to give to their silk stuffs. In the
Chinese manufactures of this sort, they gild paper on
one side with leaf-gold) then cut it in long slips, and
weave it into their silks ) which makes them with very
little cost, look very rich and fine. The same long slips
are twisted or turned about silk threads, so artificially,
as to look finer than gold thread, though it be of no
greater value.
ATMOSPHERE, a word generally used to signify
the whole mass of fluid, consisting of ah’, aqueous and
other vapours, electric fluid, &c. surrounding the earth
to a considerable height. ,
The composition of that part of our atmosphereAtrao-
properly called air, rvas till lately very much unknown.*pherecoi
In former times it was supposed to be a simple, homo-P08£j.“|r
geneous and elementary fluid. The experiments <Tnt fluids,
Dr Priestley discovered, that the purest kind of air,
which he called depklogisticated, was in reality a com¬
pound, and might be artificially produced in various
ways. His first conjectures concerning its component
parts were, that it consisted of earth, nitrous acid, and
phlogiston. Subsequent experiments rendered these
conjectures dubious; and at last it was supposed that
dephlogisticated air is a pure elementary substance, the
vivifying principle to animals, and the acidifying prin¬
ciple throughout all nature. This dephlogisticated
air, however, is but a small part of the composition of
our atmosphere. According to the most accurate
computations, the air we usually breathe is composed
of only one-fourth of this dephlogisticated air, er per¬
haps less ; the other three or four parts consisting of
what Dr Priestley calls phlogisticated, and M. Lavoi¬
sier mephitic air. This by itself is absolutely noxious,
ATM
[ 203 ]
ATM
Kogisti-
c^ed air
p ;ouous
3
Aireat
con-
med in
tl; atmo-
ipi:re.
and exceedingly poisonous to animals: though it seems
only to be negatively so j for when mixed in a certain
proportion with dephlogisticated air, it may be breathed
with safety, which could not be if it contained any in¬
gredient absolutely unfriendly to the human constitution.
The other part, viz. the pure dephlogisticated air, seems
ninimals, to stand much in the same relation to plants that phlo-
ei (tepldo-gistitated air does to animals ; that is, it would prove
a to poisonous and destroy them if they were to depend upon
retables, it entirely for their subsistence; but as they derive their
nourishment partly from the air and partly from the soil,
it thence happens, that the plants which are set to grow
in dephlogisticated air do not die instantly, as animals do
in the phlogisticated kind, but remain for some time
weak and sickly.
The other component parts of our atmosphere are so
q itity of various, and of such heterogeneous natures, that they
*' nc do not admit of any kind of definition or analysis, one
only excepted, namely, the electric fluid. This we
know pervades the whole, but appears to be much more
copious in the upper than in the lower atmospherical
regions. See Electricity. To measure the absolute
quantity of this fluid, either in the atmosphere or any
other substance, is impossible. All that we can know
on this subject is, that the electric fluid pervades the at¬
mosphere ; that it appears to be more abundant in the
superior than the inferior regions ; that it seems to be
the immediate bond of connection between the atmo¬
sphere and the water which is suspended in it; and that,
by its various operations, the phenomena of hail, rain,
snow, lightning, and various other kinds of meteors, are
occasioned.
Various attempts have been made to ascertain the
tijof the height t° which the atmosphere is extended allround
the earth. These commenced soon after it was disco¬
vered, by means of the Torricellian tube, that air is a
gravitating substance. Thus it also became known,
that a column of air, whose base is a square inch, and
the height that of the whole atmosphere, weighs 15
pounds : and that the weight of air is to that of mer¬
cury, as 1 to 10,800: whence it follows, that if the
weight of the atmosphere be sufficient to raise a column
of mercury to the height of 30 inches, the height of
the aerial column must be 10,800 times as much, and
consequently a little more than five miles high.
It was not, however, at any time supposed, that this
calculation could be just; for as the air is an elastic
fluid, the upper parts must expand to an immense bulk,
and thus render the calculation above related exceed¬
ingly erroneous. By experiments made in different
countries, it has been found, that the spaces which any
portion of air takes up, are reciprocally proportional to
the weights with which it is compressed. Allowances
were therefore to be made in calculating the height of
the atmosphere. If we suppose the height of the whole
divided into innumerable equal parts, the density of each
of which is as its quantity ; and the weight of the whole
incumbent atmosphere being also as its quantity ; it is
evident, that the weight ol the incumbent air is every¬
where as the quantity contained in the subjacent part;
which makes a difference between the weights of each
two contiguous parts of air. By a theorem in geometry,
where the differences of magnitudes are geometrically
proportional to the magnitudes themselves, these magni¬
tudes are in continual arithmetical proportion; there-
4
tiula-
h< Jit of
tbiitino
iplre.
fore, if, according to the supposition, the altitude of the Atmo-
air, by the addition of new parts into which it is divided, sphere,
do continually increase in arithmetical proportion, its
density will be diminished, or (which is the same thing)
its gravity decreased, in continual geometrical propor¬
tion.
It is now easy, from such a series, by making two
or three barometrical observations, and determining
the density of the atmosphere at two or three different
stations, to determine its absolute height, or its rarity,
at any assignable height. Calculations accordingly were
made upon this plan; but it having been found that the
barometrical observations by no means corresponded with
the density which, by other experiments, the air ought
to have had, it was suspected that the upper parts of the
atmospherical regions were not subject to the same laws
with the lower ones. Philosophers therefore had re-^j -
course to another method for determining the altitudejt determia
of the atmosphere, viz. by a calculation of the height ned from
from which the light of the sun is refracted, so as to1!?6 begin'
become visible to us before he himself is seen in the hea-”^^®^
vens. By this method it was determined, that at the light,
height of 45 miles the atmosphere had no power of re¬
fraction ; and consequently beyond that distance was
either a mere vacuum or the next thing to it, and not
to be regarded.
This theory soon became very generally received,
and the height of the atmosphere was spoken of as fa¬
miliarly as the height of a mountain, and reckoned to
be as well ascertained, if not more so, than the heights
of most mountains are. Very great objections, how-objection
ever, which have never yet been removed, arise from ftom the
the appearances of some meteors, like large globes ofaPPearan««
fire, not unfrequently to be seen at vast heights above01 meteors‘
the earth (see Meteor). A very remarkable one of
this kind was observed by Dr Halley in the month of
March I7i9> whose altitude he computed to have
been between 69 and 734 English miles ; its diameter
2800 yards, or upwards of a mile and a half; and its
velocity about 350 miles in a minute. Others, appa¬
rently of the same kind, but whose altitude and velo¬
city were still greater, have been observed; particularly
that very remarkable one, August 18th, 1783, whose
distance from the earth could not be less than 90 miles,
and its diameter not less than the former ; at the same
time that its velocity was certainly not less than 1000
miles in a minute. Fire-balls, in appearance similar to
these, though vastly inferior in size, have been some¬
times observed at the surface of the earth. Of this
kind Dr Priestley mentions one seen on board the
Montague, 4th November 1749, which appeared as
big as a large millstone, and broke with a violent ex¬
plosion.
From analogical reasoning, it seems very probable,
that the meteors which appear at such great heights
in the air are not essentially different from those which,
like the fire ball just mentioned, are met with on the
surface of the earth. The perplexing circumstances
with regard to the former are, that at the great
heights above mentioned, the atmosphere ought not to
have any density sufficient to support flame, or to pro¬
pagate sound ; yet these meteors are commonly suc¬
ceeded by one or more explosions, nay are sometimes
said to be accompanied with a hissing noise as they
pass over our heads. The meteor of 1719 was not
C c 3 only
Atmo¬
sphere.
*See Elec,
tricity In¬
dex.
Density of
the air
does not
always
keep pace
with its
gravity.
ATM [ 204 ]
only very bright, insomuch that for a short space it contained
turned night into day, but was attended with an ex-
* plosion heard over all the island of Britain, occasioning
a violent concussion in the atmosphere, and seeming to
shake the earth itself. That of 1783 also, though
much higher than the former, was succeeded by ex¬
plosions ; and, according to the testimony of several
people, a hissing noise was heard as it passed. Dr
Halley acknowledged that be was unable to reconcile
these circumstances with the received theory of the
height of the atmosphere ; as, in the regions in which
this meteor moved, the air ought to have been 300,000
times more rare than what we breathe, and the next
thing to a perfect vacuum.
In the meteor of 1783, the difficulty is still greater,
as it appears to have been 20 miles farther up in the
air. Di'IIalley offers a conjecture, indeed, that the
vast magnitude of such bodies might compensate for
the thinness of the medium in which they moved.
Whether or not this was the case indeed cannot he
ascertained, as we have so few data to go upon ; but
the greatest difficulty is to account for the brightness
of the light. Appearances of this kind are indeed with
great probability attributed to electricity, but the dif¬
ficulty is not thus removed. Though the electrical
fire pervades with great ease the vacuum of a common
air-pump, yet it does not in that case appear in bright
well defined sparks, as in the open air, but rather in
long streams resembling the aurora borealis. From
some late experiments, indeed, Mr Morgan concludes,
that the electrical fluid cannot penetrate a perfect va-
■cuum*. If this is the case, it shows that the regions
we speak of are not such a perfect vacuum as can be
artificially made ; but whether it is or not, the ex¬
treme brightness of the light shows that a fluid was
present in those regions, capable of confining and con¬
densing the electric matter as much as the air does at
the surface of the ground ; for the brightness of these
meteors, considering their distance, cannot be suppo¬
sed inferior to that of the brightest flashes of light¬
ning.
This being the case, it appears reasonable to conclude,
that what is called the density of the air does not alto¬
gether keep pace with its gravity. The latter indeed
must in a great measure be affected by the vapours,
but above all by the quantity of the basis of fixed or
dephlogisticated air contained in it: for Mr Kirvvan
has discovered that the basis of fixed air, when depri¬
ved of its elastic principle, is not greatly inferior to
gold in specific gravity ; and we cannot suppose that
of dephlogisticated air to be much less. It is possible,
therefore, that pure air, could it be deprived of all the
water it contains, might? have very little gravity ; and
as there is great reason to believe that the basis of de¬
phlogisticated air is only one of the constituent parts of
water, we see an evident reason why the air ought to
become lighter, and likewise less fit for respiration,
the higher up we go, though there is a possibility that
its density, or power of supporting flame, may continue
unaltered.
There are not yet, however, a sufficient number of
facts to enable us to determine this question ; though
such as have been discovered seem rather to favour the
above conjecture. Dr Boerhaave was of opinion that
the gravity of the air depended entirely on the water it
2
ATM
and, by the means of alkaline salts, he was
enabled to extract as much water from a quantity of
air as was very nearly equivalent to its weight. Bv the
calcination of metals we may extract as much of the
basis of dephlogisticated air from a quantity of atmo¬
spherical air as is equivalent to the weight of air lost.
Were it possible, therefore, to extract the whole of
this, as well as all otlmr vapours, and to preserve only
the elastic principle, it is highly probable that its gra¬
vity would entirely cease. It has been found, by those
who have ascended with aerostatic machines, or to the
tops of high mountains, that the dephlogisticated air
is found to be contained in smaller quantities in the at¬
mosphere of those elevated regions than on the lower
grounds. It is also found, that in such situations the
air is much drier, and parts with water with much more
difficulty, than on the ordinary surface. Salt of tartar,
for instance, which at the foot of a mountain will very
soon run into a liquid, remains for a long time exposed
to the air on the top of it, without showing the least
tendency to deliquesce. Nevertheless, it hath never been
observed that ftres did not burn as intensely on the tops
of the highest mountains as on the plains. The matter
indeed was put to the trial in the great eruption of Ve¬
suvius in I779? where, though the lava spouted up to
the height of three miles above the level of the sea, the
uppermost parts all the while were to appearance as
much inflamed as the lowest. g
The high degree of electricity, always existing inGravityof
the upper regions of the atmosphere, must of necessity1^® UPPM
have a very considerable influence on the gravity of anyr.csionsl)f
heterogeneous particles floating in it. When we con-*w^,
sider the effects of the electric fluid upon light bodies imps dirai.
at the surface of the earth, it will readily be admitted, nbiiedby
that in those regions where this fluid is very abundant,e*ectr‘c‘tJ*i
the gravity of the atmosphere may be much diminished
without affecting its density. We know that it is the
nature of any electrified substance to attract light bo¬
dies; and that, by proper management, they may even
be suspended in the air, without either moving up or
down for a considerable time. If this is the case with
light terrestrial bodies, it cannot be thought very im¬
probable that the aerial particles themselves, i. e. those
which we call the basis of dephlogisticated air, and of
aqueous or other vapour diffused among them, should
be thus affected in the regions where electricity is so
abundant. From this cause, therefore, also the gra¬
vity of the atmosphere may be affected without any al¬
teration at all being made in its density ; and hence
may arise anomalies in the barometer hitherto not taken
notice of.
It appears, therefore, that the absolute height of the Absolute
atmosphere is not yet determined. The beginning height of
and ending of twilight indeed show, that the height
at which the atmosphere begins to refract the sun’s
light is about 44 or 45 English miles. But this mayed.
not improbably be only the height to which the aque¬
ous vapours are carried : for it cannot be thought any
unreasonable supposition, that light is refracted only
by means of the aqueous vapour contained in the at¬
mosphere ; and that where this ceases, it is still capable
of supporting the electric fire at least as bright and
strong as at the surface. That it does extend much
higher, is evident from the meteors already mentioned ;
for all these are undoubtedly carried along with the
atmosphere;
A T M
[
0
Of if! pres
atmosphere 5 otherwise that of 1783, which was seen
for about a minute, must have been left 1000 miles to
the westward, by the earth flying out below it in its
annual course round the sun.
It has already been mentioned, that the pressure of
suraf the the atmosphere, when in its mean state, is equivalent
atou to a weight of 15 pounds on every square inch. Hence
splK'- j),. Cotes computed, that the pressure of the whole am¬
bient fluid upon the earth’s surface is equivalent to that
of a globe of lead 60 miles in diameter. Hence also
it appears, that the pressure upon a human body must
be very considerable j for as every square inch of sur¬
face sustains a pressure of 15 pounds, every square foot,
as containing 144 inches, must sustain a pressure of
2160; and if we suppose a man’s body to contain 15
square feet of surface, which is pretty near the truth,
he must sustain a weight of 32,400 pounds, or 16 tons,
for his ordinary load. By this enormous pressure we
should undoubtedly be crushed in a moment, were not
all parts of our bodies filled either with air or some
other elastic fluid, the spring of which is just sufficient
to counterbalance the weight of the atmosphere. But
whatever this fluid may be, we are sure that it is just
able to counteract the atmospherical gravity ami no
more ; for if any considerable pressure be superadded
to that of the air, as by going into deep water, or the
like, it is always severely felt, let it be ever so equa¬
ble. If the pressure of the atmosphere is taken off
from any part of the human body, the hand, for in¬
stance, when put in an open receiver from whence the
air is afterwards extracted, the weight of the atmo¬
sphere then discovers itself, and we imagine the hand
strongly sucked down into the glass. See Pneuma-
t Tics. ’
Vartion In countries at some distance from the equator, the
pressure of the atmosphere varies considerably, and thus
itse cP. Pr°fluces consffierable changes on many terrestrial bo¬
dies. On the human body the quantity of pressure
sometimes varies near a whole ton; and when it is thus
so much diminished, most people find something of a
listlessness and inactivity about them. It is surprising,
however, that the spring of the internal fluid, already
mentioned, which acts as a counterpoise to the atmo-
sphex-ical gravity, should in all cases seem to keep pace
with it when the pressure is naturally diminished, and
even when it is artificially augmented, though not
I when the pressure is artificially diminished. Thus in
that kind of weather when the pressure of the air is
least, we never perceive our veins to swell, or are sen¬
sible of any inward expansion in our bodies. On the
contrary, the circulation is languid, and we seem ra-
)fdi ul. ther to be oppressed by a weight. Even in going up
' ot ispi- to the tops of mountains, where the pressure of the at¬
mosphere is diminished more than three times wdiat it
usually is on the plain, no such appearances are ob¬
served. Some travellers indeed have affirmed, that on
the tops of very high mountains, the air is so light as
to occasion a great difficulty of respiration, and even
violent retching and vomiting of blood. It does not
appear, however, that these assertions are well found¬
ed. Mr Brydone found no inconvenience of this kind
on the top of Mount HLtna j nor is any such thing men¬
tioned by. Mr Houel, who also ascended this moun¬
tain. Sir William Hamilton indeed says, that he did
feel a difficulty of respiration, independent of any sul-
Atmo-
sphere.
atio ii,n
tie tils of
lODiiilins.
13
205 ] ATM
phureons steam. But, on the top of a volcano, the
respiration may be affected by so many difl’erent causes,
that it is perhaps impossible to assign the true one. The
French mathematicians, when on the top of a very
high peak of the Andes, did not make any complaint
of this kind, though they lived there for some time.
On the contrary, they found the wind so extremely
violent, that they were scarcely able to withstand its
force 5 which seems an argument for at least equal den¬
sity of the atmosphere iu the superior as in the inferior
regions. Hr Heberden, who ascended to the top of
Tenerifle, a mountain higher than iEtna, makes no
mention of any difficulty of respiration. M. Saussure, M. Saus-
however, in his journey to the top of Mont Blanc, the sure’ssymp-
highest of the Alps, felt very great uneasiness in thistoms on l^c
way. His respiration was not only extremely diffi-^1’^
cult, but his pulse became quick, and he was seized Blanc ae-
with all the symptoms of a fever. His strength was counted
also exhausted to such a degree, that he seemed to re-for-
quire four times as long a space to perform some ex¬
periments on the top of the mountain as he would
have done at the foot of it. It must be observed, how¬
ever, that these symptoms did not begin to appear till
he had ascended two miles and a half perpendicular
above the level of the sea. The mountain is only about
a quarter of a mile higher; and in this short space he
was reduced to the situation just mentioned. But it is
improbable that so small a difference, even at the end
of his journey, should have produced such violent ef¬
fects, had not some other cause concurred. A cause
of this kind he himself mentions, viz. that the atmo¬
sphere at the top of the mountain was so much im¬
pregnated with fixed air, that lime-water, exposed to
it, quickly became covered with a pellicle occasioned
by the absorption of that fluid. Now it is known,
that fixed air is extremely pernicious to animals, and
would bring on symptoms similar to those above men¬
tioned. There is no reason, therefore, to have recourse
to the rarity of the atmosphere for solving a pheno¬
menon which may more naturally be accounted for
otherwise.
When the pressure of the atmosphere is augmented,
by descending, in the diving-bell, to considerable depths
in the sea, it does not appear that any inconvenience
follows from its increase. Those who sit in the diving-
bell are not sensible of any pressure as long as they re¬
main in the air, though they feel it very sensible in go¬
ing into the water : yet it is certain, that the pressure
in both cases is the same: for the whole pressure of the
atmosphere, as well as of the water, is sustained by the
air iu the diving-bell, and consequently communicated
to those who sit in it.
But though artificial compression of the air, as well
as natural rarefaction, can thus be borne, it is otherwise
with artificial rarefaction. Animals in an air-pump
show uneasiness from the very first, and cannot live for
any time in an atmosphere rarefied artificially even as
much as it appeared to be from the barometer on the
top of Mont Blanc.
It is not easy to assign the true reason of the varia-Variation
tions of gravity in the atmosphere. Certain it is, how-of the at-
ever, that they take place only in a very small degree ni0SP^er*_
within the tropics ; and seem there to depend on ^
heat of the sun, as the barometer constantly sinks near for
half an inch every day, and rises again to its former
station
M
Atmo¬
sphere.
A T
station in the night time. In the temperate zones the
barometer ranges from 28 to near 31 inches, by its va¬
rious altitudes showing the changes that are about to
take place in the weather. If we could know, there¬
fore, the latent causes by which the weather is influen¬
ced, we should likewise certainly know those by which
the gravity of the atmosphere is affected. In general
they may be reduced to two, viz. an emission of latent
beat from the vapour contained in the atmosphere, or
of electric fluid from the same, or from the earth. To
one or both of these causes, therefore, may we ascribe
the variations of the gravity of the atmosphere j and we
see that they both tend to produce the same effect with
the solar heat in the tropical climates, viz. to rarefy
the air, by mixing with it or setting loose a non¬
gravitating fluid, which did not act in such large pro¬
portion in any particular place before. No doubt,
the action of the latent heat and electric fluid is the
same in the torrid as in the temperate zones: but
in the torrid zone the solar heat and excessive eva¬
poration counteract them j so that whatever quanti¬
ties may be discharged by the excessive deluges of
rain, &c. which fall in those countries, they are in¬
stantly absorbed by the abundant fluid, and are quick¬
ly ready to be discharged again ; while, in the tempe¬
rate zones, the air becomes sensibly lighter, as ryell as
warmer, by them for some time before they can be ab¬
sorbed again.
The variations of heat and cold to which the atmo¬
sphere is subject, have been the subject of much specu¬
lation. In general they seem to depend entirely upon
the light of the sun reflected into the atmosphere from
the earth ; and where this deflection is deficient, even
though the light should be present ever so much, the
most violent degrees of cold are found to take place.
Hence, on the tops of mountains, the cold is generally
excessive, though by reason of the clearness of the at¬
mosphere the light of the sun falls upon them in greater
Quantity than it can do on an equal space on the plain,
n long winding passages also, such as the caverns of
iEtna and Vesuvius, where the air has room to circu¬
late freely, without any access of the sun, the cold is
scarcely tolerable 5 whence the use of these for cooling
liquors, preserving meat, &c.
The coldness of the atmosphere on the tops of moun-
laTcWa- taJns ’’j18 been ascribed by M. Lambert and De Luc,
sons for thef° ^ie igneous fluid, or elementary fire, being more rare
cold on the in those elevated situations than on the plains. M. Lam-
tops of bert is of opinion that it is rarefied above by the action
of the air, and that below it is condensed by its own
proper weight. He considers fire as a fluid in motion,
the parts of which are separable, and which is rarefied
when its velocity is accelerated. He does not decide
with regard to the identity of fire and light, though
he seems inclined to believe it. M. de Luc compares
elementary fire to a continuous fluid, whose parts are
condensed by being mutually compressed. He denies
that fire and light are the same ; and maintains that
the latter is incapable, by itself, of setting fire to bo¬
dies, thought it does so by putting in motion the igne¬
ous fluid they contain ; and that it acts with more force
near the earth than at a distance from its surface, by
reason of this fluid, which he calls a heavy and elastic
one, being more condensed there than at a greater
height. 6
[ 206 ]
ATM
*5
Variation
of the heat
and cold of
the atmo¬
sphere.
16
Xiambert
and De
tops
mountains,
M. Saussure, in treating of this subject in his ac-
count of the Alps, does not consider fire as a fluid so sphere
free and detached as to be able either to ascend with ra-'”~v^
pidity by its specific levity, or to condense itself sensi-M 17
bly by its proper weight. He supposes it to be unitedsu^"1'
to bodies by so strict an affinity, that all its motions count.3''
are determined, or at least powerfully modified, by that
affinity. As soon therefore as fire, disengaged by com¬
bustion Or by any other cause, endeavours to diffuse
itself, all the bodies that come within the sphere of its
activity endeavour to attract it j and they absorb such
quantities of it as are in the direct ratio of their affi¬
nities with it, or in the inverse ratio of what is necessary
for their equilibrium with the surrounding bodies. Now
it does not appear that in this distribution the situation
of places, with regard to the horizon, has any other influ¬
ence than what they receive from the different currents
produced by the dilatation of the air, and by the levity
which that dilatation produces. The ascent of flame,
smoke, &c. or of air heated in any way, persuaded the
ancients that fire is possessed of absolute levity, by which
it had a tendency to mount upwards. “ But these ef¬
fects (says he) are owing either to the levity of the fluid
which constitutes flame, or to that of air dilated by heat;
and not to the levity of the igneous fluid. I am, how¬
ever, sufficiently convinced, that this fluid is incompa¬
rably lighter than air, though I do not believe that it
possesses the power of ascending in our atmosphere by
virtue of its levity alone. ,5
“ The celebrated Bouguer has demonstrated, by Mr Boo-
principles the most simple, and most universally adopt-S11'1’*"1’
ed, that it is not necessary, in order to account for
diminution of heat on mountains, to have recourse tot0p0ftii{
hypotheses that are at best doubtful. The following Andes,
is his explanation of what was felt on the mountains of
Peru.
“ It was proper, in order to explain this subject, to
insist on the short duration of the sun’s rays, which
cannot strike the different sides of mountains but for a
few hours, and even this not always. A horizontal
plain, when the sun is clear, is exposed at mid-day
to the perpendicular and undiminished action of these
rays, while they fall but obliquely on a plain not much
inclined, or on the sides of a high pile of steep rocks.
But let us conceive for a moment an insulated point,
half the height of the atmosphere, at a distance from
all mountains, as well as from the clouds which float
in the air. The more a medium is transparent, the
less heat it ought to receive by the immediate action
of the sun. The free passage which a very transpa¬
rent body allows to the rays of light, shows that its
small particles are hardly touched by them. Indeed
what impression could they make on it, when they pass
through almost without obstruction ? Light, when it
consists of parallel rays, does not by passing through a
foot of free atmospheric air, near the earth, lose an
hundred thousandth part of its force. From this we
may judge how few rays are weakened, or can act on
this fluid, in their passage through a stratum of the dia¬
meter not of an inch or a line, but of a particle. Yet
the subtility and transparency are still greater at great
heights, as was obvious on the Cordilleras, when we
looked at distant objects. Lastly, the grosser air is
heated below by the contact or neighbourhood of bo¬
dies of greater density than itself, which it surrounds,
and
ATM r 207 ] ATM
A)(V anti on wiiieh It rests j and the heat may he communx-
»pl(re. cated by little and little to a certain distance. The in-
i————' fei-ior parts of the atmosphere by this means contract
daily a vei'y considerable degree of heat, and may re¬
ceive it in proportion to its density or bulk. But it is
evident that the same thing cannot happen at the di¬
stance of a league and a half or two leagues above the
surface of the earth, although the light there may be
something more active. The air and the wind there¬
fore must at this height be extremely cold, and colder
in proportion to the elevation.
“ Besides, the heat necessary to life is not merely
that which we receive every instant from the sun. The
momentary degree of this heat corresponds to a very
small part of that which all the bodies around us have
imbibed, and by which ours is chiefly regulated. The
action of the sun only serves to maintain nearly in the
same state the sum of the total heat, by repairing
through the day the loss it sustains through the night,
and at all times. If the addition be greater than the
loss, the total heat will increase, as it happens in sum¬
mer, and it will continue to accumulate in a certain
degree ; but for the reasons already given, this accu¬
mulation cannot be very great on the top of a moun¬
tain, where the summit, which rises high, is never of
great bulk. The lowest state of the thermometer in
every place is always in proportion to the heat acquired
by the soil ; and that being vei-y small on the top of a
mountain, the quantity added to it by the sun during
the day must be comparatively greater •, and the accu¬
mulated heat will be more in a condition to receive in¬
crease in proportion to its distance from the degree which
it cannot pass.
“ Another particular observable on all the high
places ol the Cordilleras, and which depends on the
same cause, is, that when we leave the shade, and ex¬
pose ourselves to the sunshine, we feel a much greater
difference than we do here in our fine days when the
weather is temperate. Every thing contributes at
Quito to make the sun exceedingly powerful: a single
step from an exposed place to the shade gives the sen¬
sation of cold : this would not be the case if the quan¬
tity of heat acquired bv the soil were more consider¬
able. We now also see why the same thermometer,
put first into the shade and then in the sun, does not
undergo the same changes at all times and in all pla¬
ces. In the morning, upon Pichincha, this instrument
is generally a few degrees below the freezing point,
which may be reckoned the natural temperature of the
place j but when during the day we expose it to the
sun, it is easy to imagine that the effect must be great,
and much more than double in whatever way it is mea¬
sured.”
This theory is adopted by M. Saussure, who adds
the following fact to prove that the action of the sun’s
rays, considered abstractedly and independent of any
extrinsic source of cold, is as great on mountains as on
plains j viz. that the power of burning lenses and mir-
umi:)L rors *s ^,e same at afi heights. To ascertain this fact,
aisefe. our author procured a burning-glass so weak that at
Jail) Geneva it would just set fire to tinder. This he car-
J«1onried, with some of the same tinder, to the top of the
mo,L R10imta‘n Saleve (a height of 3000 feet) ; where it not
ins . on on,y produced the same efiect, but apparently with
diu greater facility than on the plain. Being persuaded,
then, that the principal source of cold on the tops of r\tnio
high mountains is their being continually surrounded sphere.
with an atmosphere which cannot be much heated ei-  v~— ■'
ther by the rays of the sun on account of its transparen¬
cy, or by the reflection of them from the earth by rea¬
son of its distance, he wished to know, whether the di¬
rect solar rays on the top of a high mountain had the
same power as on the plain, while the body on which
they acted was placed in such a manner as to be unaf¬
fected by the surrounding air. For this purpose he in¬
stituted a set of experiments, from which he drew the
following conclusions, viz. that a difference of 777 toises
in height diminishes the heat which the rays of the sun
are able to communicate to a body exposed to the exter¬
nal air, 140 of the thermometer; that it diminishes the
heat of a body partially exposed, only 6°; and that it
augments by i° the heat of a third body completely de¬
fended from the air.
Plence it appears that the atmosphere, though soAtmo-
essentially necessary to the support of fire, is somehoxv sphere eve-
or other the greatest antagonist of heat, and most ef- rywhere
fectually counteracts the operation of the solar rays in couateractf
producing it. Ibis power it seems to exert at all di-t^e sun>
stances, at the surface as well as in the higher x'egions.
From some experiments made by M. Pictet it appears,
that even in places exposed to the rays of the sun, the Si
heat, at five feet distance from the ground, is greater Is colder
only by one or two degrees than at 50 feet above theverynear
surface, though the ground was at that time 15 or 20°tke^®ur’acc
warmer than the air immediately in contact with it. <nound
Inconsiderable as this difference is, however, it does than at
not hold as we go higher up; for if it did, the cold some di.
on the top of the mountain of Saleve, which is 3000stanG€'
feet above the level of the lake of Geneva, would be
6o* greater than at the foot of it ; whereas in reality it
is only io#. In the night-time the case is reversed ;
for the stratum of air at five feet from the ground, was
found by M. Pictet to be colder than at 50. Besides
this, dillerent strata of the atmosphere are found to
possess very different and variable degrees of cold, with¬
out any regard to their situation high up or low down.
In the year 1780J Dr Wilson of Glasgow found a ve¬
ry remarkable cold existing close to the surface of the
ground ; so that the thermometer, when laid on the
surface of the snow, sunk many degrees lower than one
suspended 24 feet above it. It has been likewise ob¬
served, that in clear weather, though the surface of
the earth be*then most liable to be heated by the sun,
yet alter that is set, and during the night, the air is
coldest near the gi’ound, and particularly in the val¬
leys. Experiments on this subject were made for a Si
whole year by Mr James Sex, who has given an ac-Mr Sex’s
count ot them in the 78th volume of the Philosophical exPer**
Transactions. He suspended thermometers (construct-
ed in such a manner as to show the true maximum andject
minimum of heat that might take place in the obser¬
ver’s absence) in a shady northerly aspect, and at dif¬
ferent heights in the open air. One of these was pla¬
ced at the height of 9 feet, and the other at that of
220 from the ground ; and the observations were con¬
tinued, with only a few days omission, from July 1784
to July 1785. The greatest variations of heat were in
the months of October and June; in the former the
thermometers generally differed most in the night, and
in the latter mostly in the day. From the 25th to the
28th
ATM [ 208 ] ATM
At mo- 28th of October, the heat below, in the night-time,
spGere, exceeded in a small degree the heat above ; at which
"““v ' time there was frequent rain mingled with hail. From
the nth to the 14th, and also on the 31st, there was
no variation at all ; during which time likewise the
weather was rainy; all the rest of the month proving
clear, the air below was found colder than that above,
sometimes by nine or ten degrees. In the month of
June, the greatest variations took place from the Ilth
to the 15th, and from the 25th to the 30th ; and at
both these times there appeared to be tw'o currents of
wind, the upper from the south-west and the lower
from the north-east. Sometimes these were rendered
visible by clouds, in different strata, moving in different
directions 5 and sometimes by clouds moving in a con¬
trary direction to a very sensible current of air below.
On cloudy nights the lowest thermometer sometimes
showed the heat to be a degree or two greater than the
upper one ; but in the day-time the heat below constant¬
ly exceeded that above more than in the month of Oc¬
tober.
To determine whether the nocturnal refrigeration
was augmented by a nearer approach to the earth, two
thermometers ryere placed in the midst of an open
meadow, on the bank of the river near Canterbury.
One was placed on the ground, and the other only six
Feet above it. The thermometer, at six feet distance
from the ground, agreed nearly with the former at
nine feet; but the nocturnal variations were found to
correspond entirely with the clearness or the cloudi¬
ness of the sky j and though they did not always hap¬
pen in proportion to their respective altitudes, yet
when the thermometers differed in any respect, that
on the ground always indicated the greatest degree of
cold.
The difference between these two thei’mometers, at
the small distance of six feet from each other, being
found no less than three degrees and a half, the num¬
ber of thermometers in the meadow was augmented to
four. One was sunk in the ground, another placed
just upon it, and the third suspended at three feet
above it. Three others were placed on a rising ground
where the land was level with the cathedral tower,
and about a mile distance from it. One of these was
likewise sunk in the ground, another placed just upon
it, and a third suspended six feet above it. With these
seven thermometers, and the two first mentioned,
which were placed in the city^, he continued his ob¬
servations for 20 days $ but as the weather happened
to be cloudy during the whole of that space, excepting
for seven or eight days, no considerable variation hap¬
pened excepting on these days. The result of the ex¬
periments was, that the cold was generally greater in
the valley than on the hill ; but the variations between
the thermometers on the ground and those six feet
above them, were often as great on the hill as in the
valley.
Thus it was perceived that a difference of tempera¬
ture took place at the distance of only three feet from
the ground j but the length of the thermometers hi¬
therto made use of rendered it impossible to make any
experiment at a smaller distance. Two new ones,
therefore, were formed by bending down the large
tube, the body or bulb of the thermometer, to a ho¬
rizontal position, while the stem remained in a vertical
one ; by which method the temperature might be oh- Atm&
served to the distance of a single inch. Sometimes, in Spilere
clear weather, these two horizontal thermometers were^-A—
placed in the open air, one within an inch of the
ground, and the other nine inches above it. When
the variation among the other thermometers was consi¬
derable, a difference was likewise perceived between
these $ the lower one sometimes indicating more than
two degrees less heat than the upper one, though placed
so near each other.
From these experiments, Mr Sex concludes, that aHisconeli
greater diminution of heat frequently takes place nearsions from
the earth in the night-time than at any altitude in the1!166® (IP(
atmosphere within the limits of his inquiry, that is, 22onmeEls'
feet from the ground ; and at such times the greatest
degrees of cold are always met with nearest the surface
of the earth.
This is a constant and regular operation of nature
under certain circumstances and dispositions of the at¬
mosphere, and takes place at all seasons of the year ;
and this difference never happens in any considerable
degree but when the air is still, and the sky perfectly
unclouded. The moistest vapour, as dews and fogs,
did not at all impede, but rather promote, the refrige¬
ration. In very severe frosts, when the air frequently
deposites a quantity of frozen vapour, it is commonly
found greatest ; but the excess of heat which in the
day-time was found at the lowest station in summer, di¬
minished in winter almost ta nothing. 2.
It has been observed, that a thermometer, included Mr Dar-
in a receiver, always sinks when the air begins to be"’in’seiP'
rarefied. This has been thought to arise, not fromr™®nti01
any degree of cold thus produced, but from the sudden
expansion of the bulb of the thermometer, in conse-therarefae
quence of the removal of the atmospherical pressure : tion of air,
But from some late experiments related, Phil. Trans,
vol. Ixxviii. by Mr Darwin, it appears that the atmo¬
sphere always becomes warm by compression, and cold
by dilatation from a compressed state. These experi¬
ments were,
1. The blast from an air-gun was repeatedly thrown
upon the bulb of a thermometer, and it uniformly
sunk it about two degrees. In making this experi¬
ment, the thermometer was firmly fixed against a
wall, and the air-gun, after being charged, was left
for an hour in its vicinity, that it might previously lose
the heat it had acquired in the act of charging ; the
air was then discharged in a continued stream on the
bulb of the thermometer, with the effect already men¬
tioned.
2. A thermometer was fixed in a wooden tube, and
so applied to the receiver of an air-gun, that, on dis¬
charging the air by means of a screw pressing on the
valve of the receiver, a continued stream of air, at the
very time of its expansion, passed over the bulb of the
thermometer. This experiment was four times repeat¬
ed, and the thermometer uniformly sunk from five to
seven degrees. During the time of condensation there
was a great difference in the heat, as perceived by the
hand, at the two ends of the condensing syringe : that
next the air-globe was almost painful to touch; and
the globe itself became hotter than could have been
expected from its contact with the syringe. “ Add
to this (says Mr Darwin), that in exploding an air-
gun the stream of air always becomes visible, which is
owing
ATM ' [ 209 ] ATM
owing to the cold then produced, precipitating the va-
ippe. pour it contained *, and if this stream of air had been
previously more condensed, or in greater quantity, so
as not instantly to acquire heat from the common at¬
mosphere in its vicinity, it would probably have fallen
in snow.
3. A thermometer was placed in the receiver of an
air-pump, and the air being hastily exhausted, it sunk
two or three degrees $ but after some minutes regain¬
ed its former station. The experiment was repeated
with a thermometer open at the top, so that the bulb
could not be affected by any diminution of the exter¬
nal pressure ; but the result was the same. Both du¬
ring exhaustion and re-admission of the air into the re¬
ceiver, a steam was regularly observed to be condensed
on the sides ol the glass ; which, in both cases, was in
a few minutes re-absorbed, and which appeared to be
precipitated by being deprived of its heat by the ex¬
panded air.
4. A hole, above the size of a crow-quill, was bo¬
red into a large air-vessel placed at the commencement
of the principal pipe of the water-works of Derby.
There are four pumps worked by a water-wheel, the
water of which is first thrown into the lower part of
this air-vessel, and rises from thence to a reservoir about
35 or 40 feet above the level ; so that the water in this
vessel is constantly in a state of compression. Two
thermometers were previously suspended on the leaden
air-vessel, that they might assume the temperature of it,
and as soon as the hole above mentioned was opened,
had their bulbs applied to the stream of air which issued
out; the consequence of which was, that the mercury
sunk some degrees in each. This sinking of the mercury
could not be ascribed to any evaporation of moisture
from their surfaces, as it was seen both in exhausting
and admitting the air into the exhausted receiver men¬
tioned in the last experiment, that the vapour which
it previously contained was deposited during its ex¬
pansion. '
5. There is a curious phenomenon observed in the
fountain of Hiero, constructed on a very large scale, in
the Chemniscensian mines in Hungary. In this ma¬
chine the air, in a large vessel, is compressed by a co¬
lumn of water 260 feet high : a stop-cock is then
opened: and, as the air issues with great vehemence,
and in consequence of its previous condensation be¬
comes immediately much expanded, the moisture it
contains is not only precipitated, as in the exhausted re¬
ceiver above mentioned, but falls down in a shower of
snow, with icicles adhering to the nose of the cock. See
J Phil. Trans, vol. lii.
li»c:iclu- From this phenomenon, as well as the four experi-
ions ith ments above related, Mr Darwin thinks “ there is good
yeason conclude, that in all circumstances where air
up,,, is mechanically expanded, it becomes capable of at-
louirins. tracting the fluid matter of heat from other bodies in
contact with it.
“ Now (continues he), as the vast region of air
which surrounds our globe is perpetually moving along
its surface, climbing up the sides of mountains, and de¬
scending into the valleys ; as it passes along, it must be
perpetually varying the degree of heat according to
the elevations of the country it traverses : for in rising
to the summits of mountains, it becomes expanded,
Vol. Ill, Part I. f
Atmo¬
sphere.
having so much of the pressure of the superincumbent
atmosphere taken away; and when thus expanded, it
attracts or absorbs heat from the mountains in conti¬
guity with it; and, when it descends into the valleys,
and is compressed into less compass, it again gives out
the heat it has acquired to the bodies it comes in con¬
tact with. The same thing must happen to the higher
regions of the atmosphere, which are regions of perpe¬
tual frost, as has lately been discovered by the aerial
navigators. When large districts of air, from the lower
pai’ts of the atmosphere, are raised two or three miles
high, they become so much expanded by the great di¬
minution of the pressure over them, and thence become
so cold, that hail or snow is produced by the precipita¬
tion of the vapour : and as there is, in these high re¬
gions of the atmosphei’e, nothing else for the expanded
air to acquire heat from after it has parted with its va-
poui-, the same degree of cold continues, till the air, on
descending to the earth, acquii’es its former state of
condensation and of warmth.
“ The Andes, almost under the line, rests its base
on burning sands ; about its middle height is a most
pleasant and temperate climate covering an extensive
plain, on which is built the city of Quito ; while its
forehead is encircled with eternal snow, perhaps coeval
with the mountain. Yet, according to the accounts of
Don Ulloa, these three discordant climates seldom en¬
croach much upon each other’s territories. The hot
winds below, if they ascend, become cooled by their
expansion ; and hence they cannot affect the snow up¬
on the summit; and the cold winds that sweep the
summit, become condensed as they descend, and of
temperate warmth before they reach the fertile plains
of Quito.”
Notwithstanding all these explanations, however, se-Difficulties
veral very considei-able difficulties remain with regard stiH remain
to the heat and cold of the atmosphere. That warm?n ^le sub"
air should always ascend ; and thus, when the source ofjeCt‘
heat is taken away by the absence of the sun, that the
stratum of atmosphere lying immediately next to the
earth should be somewhat colder than that which lies a
little farther up ; is not at all to be wondered at. We
have an example somewhat similar to this in the pot¬
ter’s kiln ; where, after the vessels have been intensely
heated for some time, and the fire is then withdrawn,
the cooling always begins at bottom, and those which
stand lowex-most will often be quite black, while all the
upper part of the furnace and the vessels next to it are
of a bright red. It doth not, however, appear why
such degrees of cold should take place at the surface of
the earth as we sometimes meet with. It is, besides,
no uncommon thing to meet with large strata in the
upper regions of the atmosphere, remarkable for their
cold, while others are warmer than those at the surface ;
as we have been assured by the testimony of several
aerial navigators. It is also difficult to see why the air
which has once ascended, and become rarefied to an
extreme degree, should afterwards descend among a
denser fluid of superior gravity, though indeed the
atmospherical currents by which this fluid is continual¬
ly agitated may have considerable effect in this way.
See the article Winds.
For the quantity of water contained in the atmo¬
sphere, see the articles Hygrometer, Clouds, Va«
D d pour.
26
\
Atmo¬
sphere.
27
Of the sa¬
lubrity of
the atmo¬
sphere.
28
Hr Ingen-
housz's ex¬
periments.
ATM [2
POUR, &c. For tiie cause of the elasticity of the at¬
mosphere, see Elasticity ; and for an explanation of
"> its various operations, see Meteorology. See also
the at tides Atmometer, Climate, Dew, and Me¬
teorology, in the Supplement.
The uses of the atmosphere are so various, that it is
impossible to enumerate them. One of the most essen¬
tial is its power of giving life to vegetables, and sup¬
porting that of all animated beings. For the latter
purpose, however, it is not in all places equally pro¬
per : we shall therefore conclude this article with some
remarks on
T/ie Salubrity of the Atmosphere.—The air on the
tops of mountains is generally more salubrious than that
in pits. Dense air indeed is always more proper for
respiration than such as is more rare 5 yet the air on
mountains, though much moremare, is more free from
phlogistic vapours than that of pits. Hence it has been
found, that people can live very well on the tops of
mountains where the barometer sinks to 15 or 16 inches.
M. de Saussure, in his journey upon the Alps, having
observed the air at the foot, on the middle, and on the
summits of various mountains, observes, that the air
of the very low plains seems to be the least salubrious;
that the air of very high mountains is neither very pure,
nor, upon the whole, seems so lit for the lives of men,
as that of a certain height above the level of the sea,
which he estimates to be about 200 or 300 toises, that
is, about 430 or 650 yards.
Dr White, in the 68th volume of the Phil. Trans,
giving an account of his experiments on air made at
York, says, that the atmospherical air was in a very
b.ad state, and indeed in the worst he had ever obser¬
ved it, the 13th of September 1777 5 when the barome¬
ter stood at 30.30, the thermometer at 69°; the wea¬
ther being calm, clear, and the air dry and sultry, no
rain having fallen for above a fortnight. A slight shock
of an earthquake was perceived that day.
Ibe air of a bed-room at various times, viz, at night,
and in the morning after sleeping in it, has been exa¬
mined by various persons ; and it has been generally
found, that after sleeping in it the air is less pure than
at any other time. The air of privies, even in calm
weather, has not been found to be so much pblogisti-
cated as might have been expected,.notwithstanding its
disagreeable smell.
irom this and other observations, it is thought that
the exhalations of human excrements are very little if
at ail injurious, except when they become putrid, or
proceed from a diseased body ; in which case they in¬
fect the air very quickly.
Dr Ingenhousz, soon after he left London, sent an
account of his experiments made in the year 1779 up¬
on the purity of the air at sea and other parts ; which
account was read at the Royal Society the 24th of A-
pril 1780, and inserted in the 70th vol. of the Phil.
Trans. His first observations were made on board a
vessel in the month of the Thames, between Sheerness
and Margate, where he found that the air was purer
than any other sort of common air he had met with be¬
fore. He found that the sea-air taken farther from
the land, viz. between the English coast and Ostend,
was not so pure as that tried before ; yet this inferior
purity seems not to take place always. The Doctor’s
general observations, deduced from his numerous expe-
3
10] ATM
riments, are, “ That the air at sea and close to it, is
in general purer, and fitter for animal life, than the
air on the land, though it seems to be subject to some
inconsistency in its degree of purity with that of the
land : That probably the air will be found in gene¬
ral much purer far from the land than near the shore,
the former being never subject to be mixed with land
air.”
The Doctor in the same paper transcribes a journal
of experiments, showing the degree of purity of the
atmosphere in various places, and under different cir¬
cumstances ; which we shall insert here in an abridged
manner.
The method used in those experiments was to in¬
troduce one measure of common air into the eudiome¬
ter tube, and then one measure of nitrous air. The mo¬
ment that these two sorts of elastic fluids came into con¬
tact, he agitated the tube in the water-trough, and then
measured the diminution, expressing it by hundredth
parts of a measure ; thus, when he says, that such air
was found to be 130, it signifies, that after mixing one
measure of it with one of nitrous air, the whole mixed
and d iminished quantity was 130 hundredths of a mea¬
sure, viz. one measure and 30 hundredths of a measure
more. *
“ The different degrees of salubrity of the atmo¬
sphere, as I found it in general in my country house at
Southal-Green, ten miles from London, from June to
September, lay between 103 and 109. I was surprised
when, upon my return to town to my former lodgings
in Pall Mall Court, I found the common air purer in
general in October than I used to find it in the middle
of summer in the country; for on the 22d of October,
at nine o’clock in the morning, the weather being fair
and frosty, I found that one measure of common air,
and one of nitrous air, occupied 100 subdivisions in the
glass-tube, or exactly one measure. That very day, at
two o’clock in the afternoon fit being then rainy wea¬
ther), the air was somewhat altered for the worse. It
gave 102. October the 23d, it being rainy weather,
the air gave 102. October the 24th, the weather be¬
ing serene, the air at nine o’clock in the morning gave
100. October the 25th, the sky being cloudy at 11
o’clock in the morning, the air gave 102. At 11
o’clock at night, from live different trials, it gave toy.
October the 26th, the weather being very dark and
rainy, the air gave 105, as before.”
The air at Ostend was found by the Doctor to be
generally very good, giving between 94 and 98. At
Bruges, the air taken at seven o’clock at night gave
103. November the 8th, the air at Ghent at three in
the afternoon gave 103.
November the 12th, the air of Brussels at seven
o’clock P. M. gave loy^- The next day, the air of
the low’er part of the same city gave 106 ; that of the
highest appeared to be purer, as it gave 104 which
agrees with the common popular observation. Novem¬
ber the 14th, both the air of the highest and that of
the lowest part of the city appeared to be of the same
goodness, giving 103. The weather was frosty.
November the 22d, the air of Antwerp in the even¬
ing gave 109^; the weather being rainy, damp, and
cold. November the 23d, the air of Breda gave 106.
rIhe next day about 11 o’clock the air gave 102; the
weather being fair, cold, and inclining to frost. At
seven
Atmo¬
sphere,
r •
His jourm
of the pur
ty of the a
in differtt
places.
1 I*
ATM
^,0. seven o’clock it gave 103. Next day, being the 25th,
I,ere. the air gave 104} the weather being cold and rainy.
—'The 26th it gave 103 ; the weather being very rainy,
cold, and stormy. November the 27th, the air at the
Moordyke close to the water gave ioi^ j the weather
being fair and cold, but not frosty. This spot is rec¬
koned very healthy. November the 28th, the air of
Rotterdam gave 103; the weather being rainy and cold.
November the 29th, the air of Delft gave 103; the
weather being stormy and rainy.
November the 30th, the air of the Hague gave 104;
the weather being cold, and the wind northerly. The
first of December the weather underwent a sudden
change; the wind becoming southerly and stormy, and
the atmosphere becoming very hot. The day after,
Fahrenheit’s thermometer stood at 540 ; and the com¬
mon air being repeatedly and accurately tried gave
116; and that preserved in a glass phial from the pre¬
ceding day gave 117 ; and that gathered close to the
sea gave 115.
December the 4th, the air of Amsterdam gave 103 ;
the weather being rainy, windy, and cold. The day
after, the weather continuing nearly the same, the air
gave 102. December the 10th, the air of Rotterdam
gave 1015 the weather being rainy. December the
12th, being in the middle of the water between Dort
and the Moordyke, the air gave 109 •, the weather be¬
ing remarkably dark, rainy, and windy. December
the 13^5 a’r Breda in the morning gave 109^
the weather continuing as the day before. And in the
afternoon, the air gave 1064 •, the weather having
cleared up. December the 16th, the air of the lower
part of the city of Antwerp gave 105, that of the
higher part 1045 the weather being rainy and tempe¬
rate. December the 17th, the air of Antwerp gave
107 j the weather continuing nearly as in the preced¬
ing day. December the 10th, the air of Brussels gave
1095 the weather being rainy, windy, and rather warm.
December the 2ist, the air of Brussels gave 106 5 the
weather being dry and cold. The next day the air and
the weather continued the same. December the 23d,
the air of Mons gave 104 ; the weather being rainy
and cold. December the 24th, the air near Bouchain
gave 1044 5 the weather being cloudy and cold. De¬
cember the 25th, the air of Peronne gave 1024 j the
weather being frosty. December the 26th, the air of
j! Cuvilli gave 103 ; the weather frosty. December the
27th, the air of Senlis gave 102*; the weather frosty.
December the 29th, the air of Paris gave 203 ; the
1 weather frosty. 1780, January the 8th, the air of Paris
gave 100 ; the weather frosty. January the 13th, the
1 air of Paris gave 98 ; hard frost.
•vitt)lrS| ^‘1US ^ar 'V'1^ ^ngen^ousz’s observations. His
his <'cri. aPParatPs a very portable one, made by Mr Mar-
meru were*'m’ *n reality is the eudiometer-tube and mea-
aadi sure as used by Mr Montana before he made his last im¬
provement. “ The whole of this apparatus (says Dr
Ingenhousz) was packed up in a box about ten inches
long, five broad, and three and a half high,. The glass-
tube or great measure, which was 16 inches long, and
ATM
divided into two separate pieces, lay in a small compass, Atmd-
and could be put together by brass screws adapted to sphere,
the divided extremities. Instead of a water trough, —J
such as is used commonly, I made use of a small round
wooden tub,” &c. ^
The abbe Fontana, who has made a great number ofFontana’s
very accurate experiments upon this subject, gives his0Pinions
opinion in the following words : “ I have not the least.011 tlla lsU,!'
hesitation in asserting, that the experiments made to^CC’
ascertain the salubrity of the atmospherical air in vari¬
ous places in different countries and situations, men¬
tioned by several authors, are not to be depended up¬
on j because the method they used was far from being
exact (a), the elements or ingredients for the experi¬
ment were unknown and uncertain, and the results very'
different from one another.
“ When all the errors are corrected, it will be found
that the difference between the air of one country and
that of another, at different times, is much less than
what is commonly believed ; and that the great differ¬
ences found by various observers are owing to the fal¬
lacious effects of uncertain methods. This I advance
from experience ; for I was in the same error. I found
very great differences between the results of the expe¬
riments of this nature which ought to have been simi¬
lar j which diversities I attributed to myeelf, rather
than to the method I then used. At Paris I examined
the air of different places at the same time, and espe¬
cially of those situations where it was most probable to
meet with infected air, because those places abounded
with putrid substances and impure exhalationsj but the -
differences I observed were very small, and much less
than what could have been suspected, for they hardly
arrived at one-fiftieth of the air in the tube. Having
taken the air of the hill called Mount Valerian, at the
height of about 500 feet above the level of Paris, and
compared it with the air of Paris taken at the same
time, and treated alike, I found the former to be hardly
one-thirtieth better than the latter.
“ In London I have observed almost the same. The
air of Islington and that of London suffered an equal
diminution by the mixture of nitrous air ; yet the air
of Islington is esteemed to be much better. I have ex¬
amined the air of London taken at different heights
(for instance, in the street, at the second floor, and at
the top of the adjoining houses), and have found it to
be of the same quality. Having taken the air at the
iron gallery of St Paul’s cupola, at the height of 313
feet above the ground, and likewise the air of the stone
gallery, which is 202 feet below the other ; and having-
compared these two quantities of air with that of the
street adjoining, I found that there was scarce any sen¬
sible difference between them, although taken at such
different heights.
“ In this experiment a circumstance is to be consi¬
dered, which must have contributed to render the
above-mentioned differences more sensible : that is, the
agitation of the air of the cupola j for there was felt
a pretty brisk wind upon it, which I observed to be
stronger and stronger the higher I ascended j whereas
in
experiments
(a) It is plain that Dr Ingenhousz’s method is not implied in this remark j since the Doctor’s
weie made long after, and the method used by him was properly that of Mr Fontana.
D d 2
f 211 ]
A T O [2
Atmo- in the street, and indeed in all the streets I passed
sphere, through, there was no sensible wind to he felt. This
Atock. experiment was made at four in the afternoon, the wea-
v ther being clear. The quicksilver in the barometer
at that time was 28,6 inches high, and Fahrenheit’s
thermometer stood at 54e.”
A few lines after, Mr Fontana proceeds thus —
“ From this we clearly see, how little the experiments
hitherto published about the differences of common air
are to be depended upon. In general, I find that the
air changes from one time to another: so that the dif¬
ferences between them are far greater than those of the
airs of difl’erent countries or difl'erent heights. For
instance, I have found that the air of London in the
months of September, October, and November, 1778,
when treated with the nitrous air, gave II, I, 1,90, and
II, II, 2,25, which is a mean result of many experi¬
ments which differed very little from each other. The
26th day of November last, I found the air, for the first
time, much better j for it-gave II, I, 1,8c, and II, II,
2,20; but the 14th of February 1779, the air gave
II, I, 1,69 and II, II, 2,21 5 from whence it appears,
that the air of this 14th of February was better than
it had been six months before. There can be no
doubt of the accuracy of the experiments, because I
compared the air taken at different times with that
which I had first used in the month of September, and
which I had preserved in dry glass bottles accurately
stopped.”
This difference in the purity of the air at different
. times, Mr Fontana farther remarks, is much greater
than the difference between the air of the different
places observed by him : notwithstanding this great
change, as he observed, and as he was informed by va¬
rious persons, no particular change of health in the
generality of people, or facility of breathing, was per¬
ceived.
Mr Fontana lastly concludes with observing, that
“ Nature is not so partial as we commonly believe.
She has not only given us an air almost equally good
everywhere at every time, but has allowed us a cer¬
tain latitude, or a power of living and being in health
in qualities of air which differ to a certain degree. By
this I do not mean to deny the existence of certain
kinds of noxious air in some particular places ; but on¬
ly say, that in general the air is good everywhere, and
that the small differences are not to be feared so much
as some people would make us believe. Nor do I mean
to speak here of some vapours and other bodies which
are accidentally joined to the common air in particular
places, but do not change its nature and intrinsical
property. Bhis state of the air cannot be known by
the test of nitrous air j and those vapours are to be
considered in the same manner as we should consider so
many particles of arsenic swimming in the atmosphere.
In this case it is the arsenic, and not the degenerated
air, that would kill the animals who ventured to
breathe it.”
ATOCK, the capital of a province of the same
name in the north-western part of Hindostan. It is
supposed to be the Taxila of the Greeks, and the place
where Alexander, Tamerlane, and Nadir Shah crossed
the Indus. Formerly nobody wTas permitted to enter
the fortress without a passport from the Mogul him¬
self. E. Long. 71. 55. N. Lat. 33. 59.
2
2 ] A T O
ATOM, in "Philosophy^ a particle of matter, so mi- Alom
nute, as to admit of no division. Atoms are the mi- |j
nima naturae, and are conceived as the first principles
or component parts of all physical magnitude.
ATOMICAL philosophy, or the doctrine of
atoms, a system which, from the hypothesis that atoms
are endued with gravity and motion, accounted for the
origin and formation of things. This philosophy was
first broached by Moschus, some time before the Tro¬
jan war ; but was much cultivated and improved by
Epicurus ; whence it is denominated the Epicurean
Philosophy. See Epicurean.
ATOMIC theory, a new species of philosophy,
lately introduced into chemistry, to explain the combi¬
nations of bodies. See Atomic theory, Supplement,
ATONEMENT. See Expiation.
ATONY, in Medicine, a defect of tone or tension,
or a laxity or debility of the solids of the body.
ATOOI, one of the Sandwich islands, situated in
W. Long. 160. 20. N. Lat. 21. 57. Towards the
north-east and north-west, the face of the country is
rugged and broken j but to the southward it is more
even. The hills rise from the sea-side with a gentle
acclivity, and at a little distance back are covered with
wood. Its produce is the same with that of the other
islands of this cluster 5 but its inhabitants greatly ex¬
cel the people of all the neighbouring islands in the
management of their plantations. In the low grounds,
contiguous to the bay wherein our navigators * anchor-*C«L
ed, these plantations were regularly divided by deepFoyag*.
ditches j the fences were formed with a neatness ap¬
proaching to elegance ; and the roads through them
were finished in such a manner as would have reflected
credit even on an European engineer.
The island is about 30 miles in length. The road,
or anchoring place, which our vessels occupied, is
on the south-west side of the island, about two leagues
from the west end, before a village named Wymoa.
This road is somewhat exposed to the trade wind 5 not¬
withstanding which defect, it is far from being a bad
station, and greatly superior to those which necessity
continually obliges ships to use, in countries where the
Winds are not only more variable but more boisterous;
as at Madeira, Teneriffe, the Azores, &c. The land¬
ing too is not so difficult as at most of those places;
and, unless in very bad weather, is always practi¬
cable. The water in the neighbourhood is excellent,
and may be conveyed with ease to the boats. But no
wood can be cut at any convenient distance, unless the
islanders could be prevailed upon to part with the few
etooa trees (cordia sehestind) that grow about their vil¬
lages, or a species called dooe dooe, which grows farther
up the country. The ground from the wooded part
to the sea, is covered with an excellent kind of grass,
about two feet in height, which sometimes grows in
tufts, and appeared capable of being converted into
abundant crops of fine hay. But on this extensive space
not even a shrub grows naturally.
Besides taro, the sweet potato, and other similar
vegetables used by our crews as refreshments, among
which were at least five or six varieties of plantains,
the island produces bread fruit; which, however, seems
to be scarce. There are also a few cocoa palms; some
yams; the kappe ot the Friendly islands, or Virginian
arum ; the etooa tree, and odoriferous gardenia, or
cape
A T O [2
10; cape jasmine. Our people also met with several trees of
-- j the dooe dooe, that bear the oily nuts, which are stuck
upon a kind of skewer and made use of as candles. There
is a species of sida, or Indian mallow j also the morinda
citrifolia, which is here called none ; a species of con¬
volvulus ; the ava or intoxicating pepper, besides great
quantities of gourds. These last grow to a very large
size, and are of a remarkable variety of shapes, which
are perhaps the effect of art.
The scarlet birds, which were brought for sale, were
never met with alive ; but one small one was seen, about
the size of a canary bird, of a deep crimson colour j also
a large owl, two brown hawks or kites, and a wild duck.
Other birds were mentioned by the natives j among
which were the otoo or bluislr heron, and the torata, a
sort of whimbrel. It is probable that the species of birds
are numerous, if we may judge by the quantity of fine
yellow, green, and small velvet-like blackish leathers,
used upon the cloaks and other ornaments worn by these
people. Fish, and other productions of the sea, were,
to appearance, not various. The only tame or domes¬
tic animals found here were hogs, dogs, and fowls,
which were all of the same kind that had been met with
at the islands of the South Pacific. There were also
small lizards, and some rats.
The inhabitants of Atooi are of the middle size, and
in general stoutly made, They are neither remarkable
for a beautiful shape nor for striking features. Their
visage, particularly that of the women, is sometimes
round, but others have it long j nor can it justly be
said, that they are distinguished as a nation by any
general cast of countenance. Their complexion is
nearly of a nut-brown $ but some individuals are of a
darker hue. They are far from being ugly, and have
to all appearance few natural deformities of any kind.
Their skin is not very soft nor shining j but their eyes
and teeth are, for the most part, pretty good. Their
hair in general is straight; and though its natural co¬
lour is usually black, they stain it, as at the Friendly
and other islands. They are active, vigorous, and most
expert swimmers j leaving their canoes upon the most
frivolous occasion, diving under them, and swimming
to others, though at a considerable distance. Women,
with infants at their breast, when the surf was so high
as to prevent their landing in the canoes, frequently
leaped overboard, and swam to the shore, frequently
endangering their little ones. They appeared to be of
a frank, cheerful disposition j and are equally free from
the fickle levity which characteriz.es the inhabitants of
Otaheite, and the sedate cast which is observable among
many of those of Tongataboo. They seem to culti¬
vate a sociable intercourse with each other $ and ex¬
cept the propensity to thieving, which is as it were in¬
nate in most of the people in those seas, they appeared
extremely friendly. It rvas pleasing to observe with
what affection the women managed their infants, and
with what alacrity the men contributed their assistance
in such a tender office ; thus distinguishing themselves
from those savages who consider a wife and child as
things rather necessary than desirable or worthy of
their regard and esteem. From the numbers that were
seen assembled at every village in coasting along, it was
conjectured that the inhabitants of this island ax-e px-etty
numerous. Including the straggling houses, it was
computed that there might perhaps be, in the whole island,
3 ] A T R
sixty sucli villages as that near which our ships an¬
chored j and allowing five persons to each house, there
would be in evei’y village, five hundred, or thirty thou¬
sand upon the island. This number is by no means
exaggeiated ; for there tvere sometimes three thousand
people at least collected upon the beach, when it could
not be supposed that above a tenth part of the natives
were present.
ATRA Bilis, Black Bile, or Melancholy.
According to the ancients it hath a twofold origin:
1st, From the grosser parts of the blood, and this they
called the melancholy humour. 2d, From yellow bile
being highly concocted. Dr Perceival, in his Essays
Med. and Exp. suggests, that it is the gall rendered
acrid, by a stagnation in the gall-bladder, and rendered
viscid by the absorption of its fluid parts. Bile in this
state discharged into the duodenum, occasions universal
disturbance and disorder until it is evacuated : it oc¬
casions violent vomiting, or pui'ging, or both j and pre¬
vious to this the pulse is quick, the head aches, a deli¬
rium comes on, a hiccough, intense thirst, inward heat,
and a fetid breath. Some describe this kind of bile as
being acid, harsh, corroding, and when poured on
the ground, bubbling up and raising the earth after
the manner of a ferment. Dr Percival says, that by
the use of the infus. sence Union, warmed with the., tInct.
columb. he had checked the vomitings occasioned by
this matter.
Atra dies, in antiquity, denotes a fatal r/cy where¬
on the Romans received some memorable defeat. The
word literally imports a black day; a denomination
taken from the colour which is the emblem of death
and mourning. Whence the Thracians had a custom
of marking all their happy days with white stones or
calculi, and their unhappy days with black ones 5
which they cast, at the close of each day, into an urn.
At the person’s death the stones were taken out; and
from a comparison of the numbers of each complexion,
a judgment wras made of the felicity or infelicity of
his course of life. The dies atree or atri were after¬
wards denominated nefasti and posteri. Such in parti¬
cular was the day when the tribunes were defeated by
the Gauls at the river Allia, and lost the city 5 also
that whereon the battle of Cannse was fought j and se¬
veral others mai'ked in the Roman calendar, as atree or
unfortunate.
ATRACTYLIS, Distaff Thistle. See Botany
Index.
ATRiETI, in Medicine, infants having no perfo¬
ration in the anus, or persons imperforated in the vagina
or urethra.
ATRAGENE. See Botany Index.
ATRAPHAXIS. See Botany Index.
ATREBATII, a people of Britain, seated next
to the Bibroci, in part of Berkshire and part of Ox¬
fordshire. This was one of those Belgic colonies which
had come out of Gaul into Britain, and there retained
their ancient name. For the Atrebatii were a tribe
of the Belgse, who inhabited the country which is
now called Artois. They are mentioned by C&esar
among the nations which composed the Belgic confe¬
deracy against him: and the quota of troops which
they engaged to furnish on that occasion was 15,900..
Comius of Arras was a king or chieftain among the
Atrebatii in Gaul in Caesar’s time : and he seems to
have
A T R r 2
Atrebatii have possessed some authority, or at least some influence,
|| over our Atrebatii in Britain ; for lie was sent by Caesar
Atrip. t0 persuade them to submission. This circumstance
makes it probable that this colony of the Atrebatii had
not been settled in Britain very long before that time.
The Atrebatii were among those British tribes which
submitted to Caesar : nor do we hear of any remarkable
resistance they made against the Homans at their next
invasion under Claudius. It is indeed probable, that
before the time of this second invasion they had been
subdued by some of the neighbouring states, perhaps by
the powerful nation of the Cattivellauni, which may be
the reason they are so little mentioned in history. Cal-
liva Atrebatum, mentioned in the seventh, twelfth,
thirteenth, and fourteenth Itinera of Antoninus, and
called by Ptolemy Calcula, seems to have been the ca¬
pital of the Atrebatii 5 though our antiquaries differ in
their Sentiments about the situation of this ancient city,
some of them placing it at Wallingford, and others at
Ilchester.
ATREUS, in fabulous history, the son of Pelops and
Hippodamia, and the father of Agamemnon and Mene-
laus, is supposed to have been king of Mycenae and Ar¬
gos about 1228 years before the Christian era. He
drove his brother Thyestes from court, for having a cri¬
minal commerce with iErope his wife: but understand¬
ing that he had had two children by her, he sent for
him again, and made him eat them j at which horrid
action, the sun, it is said, withdrew his light.
ATRI, a town of Italy, in the farther Abruzzo, in
the kingdom of Naples, with the title of a duchy ; it
is the see of a bishop, and is seated on a craggy moun¬
tain, four miles from the Adriatic sea. E. Long. 13.8.
N. Lat. 42. 45.
ATRIENSES, in antiquity, a kind of servants or
officers in the great families at Rome, who had the
care and inspection of the atrias and the things lodged
therein.
These are otherwise called atriarii, though some make
a distinction between atrienses and alriarii; suggesting
that the latter were an inferior order of servants, per¬
haps assistants of the atrienses, and employed in the
more servile offices of the atrium, as to attend at the
door, sweep the area, &c.
The atrienses are represented as servants of authority
and command over the rest: they acted as procurators,
or agents, of their master, in selling his goods, &c. To
their care were committed the statues and images of the
master’s ancestors, &c. which were placed round the
atrium j and which they carried in procession at fune¬
rals, &c.
In the villas, or country houses, the atrienses had the
care of the other furniture and utensils, particularly
those of metal, which they were to keep bright from
rust. Other things they were to hang from time to
time in the sun, to keep them dry, &c. They were
clothed in a short white linen habit, to distinguish them,
and prevent their loitering from home.
ATRIP, in nautical language, is applied either to
the anchor or sails. The anchor is atrip, when it is
drawn out of the ground in a perpendicular direction,
either by the cable or buoy-rope. The topsails are atrip,
when they are hoisted up to the mast-head, or to their
utmost extent.
4 ] A T R
ATRIPLEX, Orach, or Arach. See Botany
Index.
ATRIUM, in ecclesiastical antiquity, denotes an
open place or court before a church, making part of
what was called the narthex or antetemple.
The atrium in the ancient churches was a large area
or square plat of ground, surrounded with a portico or
cloyster, situated between the porch or vestibule of the
church and the body of the church.
Some have mistakenly confounded the atrium with
the porch or vestibule, from which it was distinct j others
with the narthex, of which it was only a part.
The atrium was the mansion of those who were not
suffered to enter farther into the church. More parti¬
cularly, it was the place where the first class of peni¬
tents stood to beg the prayers of the faithful as they
went into the church.
Atrium is also used in the canon law, for the ceme-
try or churchyard. In this sense we find a law prohi¬
biting buildings to be raised inatrio ecclesice, except for
the clergy : which the glossary explains thus, id est in
cemeterio, which includes the space of forty paces
around a large church, or thirty round a little church or
chapel.
ATROPA, Deadly Nightshade. See Botany
Index.
Buchanan gives an account of the destruction of
the army of Sweno the Dane, when he invaded Scot¬
land, by mixing a quantity of the belladonna berries
with the drink which the Scots were, according to a
treaty of truce, to supply them with. This so intoxi¬
cated the Danes, that the Scots fell upon them in
their sleep, and killed the greatest part of them, so
that there were scarcely men enough left to carry off
their king. There have also been many instances in
Britain of children being killed by eating berries
of a fine black colour, and about the size of a small
cherry, which are no other than those of belladon¬
na. When an accident of this kind is discovered
in time, a glass of warm vinegar will prevent the bad
effects.
Naturalists tell strange stories of this plant : but set¬
ting aside its soporiferous virtue, the modern botanists
will scarce warrant any of them, nor even that human
figure ordinarily ascribed to its roots, especially since
the discovery of the artifice of charlatans in fashioning
it, to surprise the credulity of the people.
Moses informs us (Gen. xxx. 14.) that Reuben
the son of Leah, being in the field, happened to find
mandrakes, which he brought home to his mother.
Rachel had a mind to them, and obtained them from
Leah, upon condition that she should consent that Ja¬
cob should be Leah’s bedfellow the night following.
The term DahVi, dudaim, here made use of by Mo¬
ses, is one of those words of which the Jews at this
day do not understand the true signification. Some
translate it violets, others lilies, or jessamine. Junius
calls it agreeable jlowers ; Codurquus makes it truffle, or
mushroom ; and Calmet will have it to be the citron.
Those that would support the translation of mandrakes
plead, that Rachel being barren, and having a great
desire to conceive, coveted Leah’s mandrakes, it may
be presumed, with a view to its prolific virtues. The
ancients have given to mandrakes the name of the
ATT. [2
yopa apples of love, and to Venus the name of Mandrago-
|| ritis; and the emperor Julian, in his epistle to Ca-
Aii.eotti. lixenes, says, that lie drinks the juice of mandrakes to
excite amorous inclinations.
ATROPHY, in Medicine, a disease, wherein the
body or some of its parts, does not receive the neces-
sary nutriment, but wastes and decays incessantly. See
Medicine Index.
ATROPOS, in fabulous history, the name of the
third of the Parcre, or Pates, whose business it was to
cut the thread of life.
ATTACHMENT, in the Law of Kngland, im¬
plies the taking or apprehending a person by virtue of a
writ or precept. It is distinguished from an arrest, by
proceeding out of a higher court by precept or writ ;
whereas the latter proceeds out of an inferior court by
precept only. An arrest lies only on the body of a man ;
whereas an attachment lies often on the goods only, and
sometimes on the body and goods. An attachment by
writ differs from distress, in not extending to lands, as
the latter does ; nor does a distress touch the body, as
an attachment does.
Attachment out of the Chancery, is obtained upon
an affidavit made, that the defendant was served with a
subpoena, and made no appearance ; or it issues upon
not performing some order or decree. Upon the re¬
turn of this attachment by the sheriff, qtiod non est in¬
ventus in balliva sun, another attachment, with a pro¬
clamation, issues j and if he still refuses to appear, a
commission of rebellion.
Attachment of the Forest, is one of the three courts
held in the forest. The lowest court is called the court
of attachment, or wood-mote court; the mean, swan-
mote, and the highest, the justice in eyre^s seat. The
court of attachments has its name from the verdurers
of the forest having no other authority in it, but to re¬
ceive the attachments of offenders against vert and ve¬
nison taken by the foresters, and to enroll them, that
they may be presented or punished at the next justice
in eyre’s seat. This attachment is by three means :
by goods and chattels •, by body, pledges, or main-
prize ; or by tbe body only. This court is held every
40 days throughout the year; and is thence called
forty days court.
Foreign Attachment, is an attachment of money
or goods found within a liberty or city, to satisfy some
creditor within such liberty or city. By the custom of
London, and several other places, a man can attach
money or goods in the hands of a stranger, to satisfy
himself.
ATTACK, a violent attempt upon any person or
thing, an assault, or the act of beginning a combat or
dispute.
Attack, in the military art, is an effort made to
force a post, break a body of troops, &c.
Attack of a Siege, is a furious assault made by the
besiegers with trenches, covers, mines, &c. in order to
make themselves masters of a fortress, by storming one
of its sides. If there are two or three attacks made at
the same time, there should be a communication betwixt
them. See War.
A TTACOTTI, an ancient people of Britain, men¬
tioned by Ammianus Marcellinus and St Jerome, as
well as in the Notitia Imperii. They are represented
as allies and confederates of the Scots and Piets, and
115 ] ATT
therefore probably their neighbours : though their AUacotti
precise situation has not been determined by anti- Attainder.
quaries. ' 
ATTAINDER, in Law. When sentence of death,
the most terrible and highest judgment in our laws, is
pronounced, the immediate inseparable consequence by
the common law is attainder. For when it is now clear
beyond all dispute, that the criminal is no longer fit
to live upon the earth, but is to be exterminated as a
monster and a bane to human society, the law sets a
note of infamy upon him, puts him out of its protec¬
tion, and takes no farther care of him than barely to
see him executed. He is then ca\\e& attaint, attinctus,
stained or blackened. He is no longer of any credit or
reputation \ he cannot be a witness in any court ; nei¬
ther is he capable of performing tbe functions of an¬
other man : for by an anticipation of his punishment,
he is already dead in law. This is after judgment: for
there is a great difference between a man convicted and
attainted; though they are frequently through inac¬
curacy confounded together. After conviction only,
a man F liable to none of these disabilities : for there
is still in contemplation of law a possibility of his inno¬
cence. Something may be offered in arrest of judge¬
ment : the indictment may be erroneous, which will
render his guilt uncertain, and thereupon the present
conviction may be quashad : he may obtain a pardon,
or be allowed the benefit of clergy } both which sup¬
pose some latent sparks of merit, which plead in exte¬
nuation of his fault. But when judgment is once pro¬
nounced, both law and fact conspire to prove him com¬
pletely guilty j and there is not the remotest possibility
left of any thing to be said in his favour. Upon judge¬
ment, therefore, of death, and not before, the attain¬
der of a criminal commences: or upon such circum¬
stances as are equivalent to judgment of death 5 as
judgment of outlawry on a capital crime, pronounced
for absconding or fleeing from justice, which tacitly con¬
fesses the guilt j and therefore, upon judgment either of
outlawry, or of death, for treason or felony, a man shall
be said to be attainted.
A person attainted of high treason forfeits all his
lands, tenements, and hereditaments ; his blood is cor¬
rupted, and he and his posterity rendered base ; and
this corruption of blood cannot be taken off but by act
of parliament. * * See the
Attainders may be reversed or falsified (i. e. proved
to be false) by writ of error, or by plea. If by writ ofand £
error,* it must be by the king’s leave, &c.; and when by ruption of
plea, it must be by denying the treason, pleading a par- -Blood,
don by act of parliament, &c.
Persons may be attainted by act of parliament.-—
Acts of attainder of criminals have been passed in se¬
veral reigns, on the discovery of plots and rebellions,
from the reign of King Charles II. when an act was
made for the attainder of several persons guilty of the
murder of King Charles I. Among acts of this na¬
ture, that for attainting Sir John Fenwick, for con¬
spiring against King William, is the most remarkable ;
it being made to attaint and convict him of high trea¬
son on the oath of one witness, just after a law had
been enacted, “ That no person should be tried or at¬
tainted of high treason where corruption of blood is
incurred, but by the oath of two lawful witnesses, un¬
less the party confess, stand mute, &c.” Stat. 7 and 8
W. HE
ATT [2
Attali der, W. III. cap. 3. But in the case of Sir John Fen-
Attaint. wick there was something extraordinary ; for he was
1 V 1 indicted of treason on the oaths of two witnesses,
though but only one could be produced against him on
his trial.
ATTAINT, is a writ that lies after judgment
against a jury of twelve men that have given false ver¬
dict in any court of record, in an action real or personal,
where the debt or damages amounted to above 40s. stat.
5 and 34 Edw. III. c. 7. It is called attaint, because
the party that obtains it endeavours thereby to stain or
taint the credit of the jury with perjury, by whose ver¬
dict he is grieved.
The jury who are to try this false verdict must be
twenty-four, and are called the grand jury ; for the law
wills not that the oath of one jury of twelve men should
be attainted or set aside by an equal number, nor by
less indeed than double the former. And he that brings
the attaint can give no other evidence to the grand
jury, than what was originally given to the petit. For
as their verdict is now trying, and the question is whe¬
ther or no they did right upon the evidence that ap¬
peared to them, the law adjudged it the highest absur¬
dity to produce any subsequent proof upon such trial,
and to condemn the prior jurisdiction for not believing
evidence which they never knew. But those against
whom it is brought are allowed, in the affirmance of
the first verdict, to produce new matter : because the
petit jury may have formed their verdict upon evidence
of their own knowledge, which never appeared in court;
and because very terrible was the judgment which the
common law inflicted upon them, if the grand jury
found their verdict a false one. The judgment was,
1. That they should lose their liberam legem, and be¬
come for ever infamous. 2. That they should forfeit
all their goods and chattels. 3. That their lands and
tenements should be seized into the king’s hands.
4. That their wives and children should be thrown out
of doors. 5. That their houses should be razed and
thrown down. 6. That their trees should be rooted up.
7. That their meadows should he ploughed. 8. That
their bodies should be cast into jail. 9. That the party
should be restored to all that he lost by reason of the
unjust verdict. But as the severity of this punishment
had its usual effect, in preventing the law from being
executed, therefore by the statute 11 Hen. VII. c. 24.
revived by 23 Hen. VIII. c. 3. and made perpetual by
13 Eliz. c. 25. it is allowed to be brought after the
death of the party, and a more moderate punishment
was inflicted upon attainted jurors : viz. perpetual in¬
famy, and if the cause of action were above 40I. value,
a forfeiture of 20I. a-piece by the jurors j or, if under
40I. then 5I. a-piece ; to be divided between the king
and the party injured. So that a man may now bring
an attaint either upon the statute or at common law,
at his election ; and in both of them may reverse the
former judgment. But the practice of setting aside
l6 ]
ATT
Atalnt
verdicts upon motion, and granting new trials, has so
superseded the use of both sorts of attaints, that there
is hardly any instance of an attaint later than the 16th Attention,
century.
Attaint, among farriers, a knock or hurt in a
horse’s leg, proceeding either from a blow with ano¬
ther horse’s foot, or from an over-reach in frosty wea¬
ther, when a horse, being rough shod, or having shoes .
with long caulkers, strikes his hinder feet against his
fore leg.
ATTAINTED, in Law, is applied to a person’s
being under attainder. See Attainder.
ATTALICiE VESTES, in antiquity, garments
made of a kind of cloth of gold. They took the de¬
nomination from Attalus, surnamed Philomater, a
wealthy king of Pergamus, who was the first, accord¬
ing to Pliny, who procured gold to be wove into
cloth.
ATTALUS, the name of several kings of Perga¬
mus. See Pergamus.
ATTELABUS. See Entomology Index.
ATTENTION, a due application of the ear, or the
mind, to any thing said or done, in order to acquire a
knowledge thereof. The word is compounded of ad,
“ to,” and tendo, “ I stretch.”
Attention of mind is not properly an act of the un¬
derstanding, but rather of the will, by which it calls
the understanding from the consideration of other ob¬
jects, and directs it to the thing in hand. Neverthe¬
less, our attention is not always voluntary : an interest¬
ing object seizes and fixes it beyond the power of con-
troul.
Attention, in respect of hearing, is the stretching or
straining of the membrana tympani, so as to make it
more susceptible of sounds, and better prepared to
catch even a feeble agitation of the air. Or it is the
adjusting the tension of that membrane to the degree
of loudness or lowness of the sound to which we are at¬
tentive.
According to the degree of attention, objects make
a stronger or weaker impression (a). Attention is re¬
quisite even to the simple act of seeing: the eye can
take in a considerable field at one look ; but no object
in the field is seen distinctly but that singly which fixes
the attention: in a profound reverie that totally occu¬
pies the attention, we scarce see what is directly before
us. In a train of perceptions, no particular object
makes such a figure as it would do singly and apart;
for when the attention is divided among many objects,
no particular object is entitled to a large share. Hence
the stillness of night contributes to terror, there being
nothing to divert the attention.
Horror ubique animos, simul ipsa silentia terrent. JEn.
Tiara. Silence and solitude are ev’rywhere !
Through all the gloomy ways and iron doors
That hither lead, nor human face nor voice
Is
(a) Bacon, in his natural history, makes the following observations. “ Sounds are meliorated by the intension
of the sense, where the common sense is collected most to the particular sense of hearing, and the sight suspend¬
ed. Therefore sounds are sweeter, as well as greater, in the night than in the day 5 and I suppose they are
sweeter to blind men than to others ; and it is manifest, that between sleeping and waking, when all the senses
are bound and suspended, music is far sweeter than when one is fully waking.”
ATT [ ;
Alteon Is seen or heard. A dreadful din was wont
To grate the sense, when enter’d here, from groans
Attd'Q'T And howls of slaves condemn’d, from clink of chains,
And crash of rusty bars and creaking hinges ;
And ever and and anon the sight was dash’d
With frightful faces, and the meagre looks
Of grim and ghastly executioners.
Yet more this stillness terrifies my soul,
Than did that scene of complicated horrors.
Mourning Bride, act v. sc. 3.
In matters of slight importance, attention is mostly
directed by will 5 and for that reason, it is our own
fault if trifling objects make any deep impression. Had
we power equally to withhold our attention from mat¬
ters of importance, we might be pro'of against any deep
impression. But our power fails us here: an interesting
object seizes and fixes the attention beyond the possibi¬
lity of controul ; and while our attention is thus forci¬
bly attached to one object, others may solicit for admit¬
tance ; but in vain, for they will not be regarded.
Thus a small misfortune is scarcely felt in presence of
a greater:
Lear. Thou think’st ’tis much, that this conten¬
tious storm
Invades us to the skin : so ’tis to thee:
But where the greater malady is fix’d,
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’dst shun a bear j
But il thy flight lay tow’rd the roaring sea,
Thou’dst meet the bear i’ th’ mouth. When the
mind’s free,
The body’s delicate : the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.
King Lear, act iii. sc. 5.
ATTENUANTS, or Attenuating Medicines, are
such as were supposed to subtilize and break the hu¬
mours into finer parts j and thus dispose them for mo¬
tion, circulation, excretion, &c.
ATTENUATION, the act of attenuating ; that is,
of making any fluid thinner, and less consistent, than it
was before. The word is compounded of ad, ‘ to,’ and
tenuis, 1 thin.’ Attenuation is defined more generally
by Chavin, the dividing or separating of the minute
parts of any body, which before, by their mutual nexus
or implication, formed a more continuous mass. Ac¬
cordingly, among alchemists, we sometimes find the
word used for pulverization, or the act of reducing a
body into an impalpable powder, by grinding, pounding,
the like.
ATTERBURY, Dr Francis, son of Dr Lewis
Atterbury, was born at Milton in Buckinghamshire,
1662 j educated at Westminster; and from thence
elected to Christ-church in Oxford, where he soon di¬
stinguished himself by his fine genius and turn for polite
literature. 'The year he was made M. A. 1687, he
exerted himself in the controversy with the Papists, vin¬
dicated Luther in the strongest manner, and showed an
uncommon fund of learning, enlivened with great viva¬
city. In 1690 he married Miss Osborn, a distant rela¬
tion of the duke of Leeds ; a lady of great beauty, but
with little or no fortune, who lived at or in the neigh¬
bourhood of Oxford.
. 1° Feb. 1690-1, we find him resolved to “ bestir
himself in his office in the house that of censor pro-
Vol. HI. Part I. f
517 ] ATT
bably, an officer (peculiar to Christ-church) who pre¬
sides over the classical exercises ; he then also held the
catechetical lecture founded by Dr Busby.
About this period it must have been that he took or¬
ders, and entered into another scene, and another sort of
conversation : for in 1691 he was elected lecturer of St
Bride’s church in London, and preacher at Bridewell
chapel. An academic life, indeed must have been irk¬
some and insipid to a person of his active and aspiring
temper. It was hardly possible that a clergyman of his
fine genius, improved by study, with a spirit to exert
his talents, should remain long unnoticed ; and we find
that he was soon appointed chaplain to King William
and Queen Alary.
The share he took in the controversy against Bentley
(about the genuineness of Phalaris’s Epistles) is now ve¬
ry clearly ascertained. In one of the letters to his no¬
ble pupil, dated “ Chelsea 1698 (he says), the matter
had cost him some time and trouble. In laying the de¬
sign of the book, in writing above half of it, in review¬
ing a good part of the rest, in transcribing the rvhole,
and attending the press (he adds), half a year of my
life went away.”
“ In 1700, a still larger field of activity opened, in
which Atterbury was engaged four years with Dr
AVake (afterwards archbishop of Canterbury) and
others, concerning “ the Rights, Powers, and Privi¬
leges of Convocations:” in which, however the truth
of the question may be supposed to lie, he displayed
so much learning and ingenuity, as well as zeal for
the interests of his order, that the lower house of
convocation returned him their thanks, and the uni¬
versity of Oxford complimented him with the degree
of D. D. January 29. 1700, he was installed arch¬
deacon of Totness, being promoted to that dignity by
Sir Jonathan Trelawney, then bishop of Exeter. The
same year he was engaged, with some other learned di¬
vines, in revising an intended edition of the “ Greek
Testament,” with Greek “ Scholia,” collected chiefly
from the fathers, by Air Archdeacon Gregory. At
this period he was popular as preacher at the Rolls
chapel; an office which had been conferred on him by
Sir John Trevor, a great discernerof abilities, in 1698,
when he resigned Bridewell, which he had obtained in
1693. Upon the accession of Queen Anne in 1702,
Dr Atterbury was appointed one of her majesty’s
chaplains in ordinary; and, in October 1704, was ad¬
vanced to the deanery of Carlisle. About two years
after this, he was engaged in a dispute with Air Hoad-
ly, concerning the advantages of virtue with regard to
the present life ; occasioned by his sermon, preached
August 30. 1706, at the funeral of Air Thomas Ben-
net a bookseller. In 1707, Sir Jonathan Trelawney,
then bishop of Exeter, appointed him one of the ca¬
nons residentiaries of that church. In 1709, he was
engaged in a fresh dispute with Mr Hoadly, concern¬
ing “ Passive Obedience ;” occasioned by his Latin
Sermon, entitled “ Concio ad Clerum Londinensem,
habita in Ecclesia S. Elphegi.” In 1710, came on
the famous trial of Dr Sacheverell, whose remarkable
speech on that occasion was generally supposed to have
been drawn up by our author, in conjunction with Dr
Smalridge and Dr Freind. The same year Dr Atter¬
bury was unanimously chosen prolocutor of the lower
house of convocation, and had the chief management
E e of
ATT [ 2i
u ry. of affairs in that house. May n. 1711, he was ap-
' pointed by the convocation, one of the committee for
comparing Mr Whiston’s doctrines with those of the
church ot England ; and in June following, he had the
chief hand in drawing up “ A Representation of the
Present State of Religion.” In 1712, Dr Atterbury
was made dean of Christ-church, notwithstanding the
strong interest and warm applications of several great
men in behalf of his competitor Dr Smalridge. The
next year saw him at the top of his preferment, as well
as .ot his reputation : for, in the beginning of June
1713, the queen, at the recommendation of Lord Chan¬
cellor Harcourt, advanced him to the bishopric of Ro¬
chester, with the deanery of Westminster, in commen-
dam j he was confirmed July 4. and consecrated at
Lambeth next day.
At the beginning of the succeeding reign, his tide
of prosperity began to turn ; and he received a sen¬
sible mortification presently after the coronation of
King George I. when, upon his offering to present
Lis majesty (with a view, no doubt, of standing better
in his iavour) with the chair of state or royal canopy,
his own perquisites as dean of Westminster, the offer
was rejected, not without some evident marks of dislike
to bis person.
During the rebellion in Scotland, when the Pre¬
tender’s declaration was dispersed, the archbishop of
Canterbury, and the bishops in or near London, had
published a Declaration of their abhorrence of the pre¬
sent Rebellion, and an Exhortation to the Clergy and
People to be •zealous in the discharge of their duties to
his majesty K ing George : but the bishop of Rochester
refused to sign it j and engaged Bishop Smalridge in
the same refusal, on account of some reflections it con¬
tained against the high church party. He appeared ge¬
nerally among the protestors against the measures of
the ministry under the king, and drew up the reasons
of the protests with his own hand.
In 1716, we find him advising Dean Swift in the
management of a refractory chapter. April 26. 1722,
he sustained a severe trial in the loss of his lady j by
whom he had four children j Francis, who died an in¬
fant ; Osborn, student of Christ-church •, Elizabeth,
who died September 29. 1716, aged 17*, and Mary,
who had been then seven years married to Mr Mo-
rice.
In this memorable year, on a suspicion of his being
concerned in a plot in favour of the Pretender, he was
apprehended August 24. and committed prisoner to the
Tower.
Two officers, the under secretary, and a messenger,
went about two o’clock in the afternoon to the bi¬
shop’s house at Westminster, where he then was, with
orders to bring him and his papers before the council.
He happened to be in his nightgown when they came
in j and being made acquainted with their business, he
desired time to dress himself. In the mean time his se¬
cretary came in j and the officers went to search for
his papers j in the sealing of which the messenger
brought a paper, which he pretended to have found in
his close stool, and desired it might be sealed up with
the rest. His Lordship observing it, and believing it
to be a forged one of his own, desired the officers not
to do it, and to bear witness that the paper was not
found with him. Nevertheless they did it j and
3
8 ] ATT
though they behaved themselves with some respect to Attcrh
him, they suffered the messengers to treat him in a very -y~
rough manner, threatening him, if he did not make
haste to dress himself, they would carry him away un-
drest as he was. Upon which he ordered his secretary
to see his papers all sealed up, and went himself direct¬
ly to the Cock-pit, where the council waited for him.
The behaviour of the messengers, upon this occasion,
seems to have been very unwarrantable, if what the au¬
thor of “ A Letter to the Clergy of the Church of
England,” &c. tells us be true, that the persons, di¬
rected by order of the king and council to seize his
lordship and his papers, received a strict command to
treat him with great respect and reverence. However
this was, when he came before the council, he behaved
with a great deal of calmness, and they with much ci¬
vility towards him. He had liberty to speak for him¬
self as much as he pleased, and they listened to his de¬
fence with a great deal of attention ■, and, what is more
unusual, after he was withdrawn, he had twice liberty
tore-enter the council chamber, to make for himself
such representations and requests as he thought proper.
It is said, that, while he was under examination, he
made use of our Saviour’s answer to the Jewish coun¬
cil, while he stood before them j “ If I tell you, ye
will not believe me ; and if I also ask you, ye will not
answer me, nor let me go.” After three quarters of
an hour’s stay at the Cock-pit, he was sent to the
Tower privately, in his own coach, without any manner
of noise or observation.
This commitment of a bishop upon a suspicion of
high treason, as it was a thing rarely practised since
the Reformation, so it occasioned various speculations
among the people. Those who were the bishop’s
friends, and pretended to the greatest intimacy with
him, laid the whole odium of the matter upon the mi¬
nistry. They knew the bishop so well, they said, his
love to the constitution, and attachment to the Prote¬
stant succession, his professed abhorrence of Popery,
and settled contempt of the Pretender, and his caution,
prudence, and circumspection, to be such, as would
never allow him to engage in an attempt of subverting
the government, so hazardous in itself, and so repug¬
nant to his principles; and therefore they imputed
all to the malice and management of a great minister
of state or two, who were resolved to remove him, on
account of some personal prejudices, as well as the
constant molestation he gave them in parliament, and
the particular influence and activity he had shown in
the late election. The friends to the ministry, on the
other hand, were strongly of opinion, that the bishop
was secretly a favourer of the Pretender’s cause, and
had formerly been tampering with things of that na¬
ture, even in the queen’s time, and while his party
was excluded from power; but upon their re-admis¬
sion, had relinquished that pursuit,, and his confede¬
rates therein, and became a good subject again. They
urged, that the influence which the late duke of Or¬
mond had over him, assisted by his own private ambi¬
tion and revenge, might prompt him to many things
contrary to his declared sentiments, and inconsistent
with that cunning and caution which in other cases
he was master of. And to obviate the difficulty, ari¬
sing from the bishop’s aversion to Popery, and the
Pretender’s bigotry to that religion, they talked of a
new
ATT [ 219 1 ATT
/ r'-itiry new inven^ei^ sc^eme of f>'s> n°t to receive the Pre-
- - > tender, whose principles were not to be changed, but
his son only, who was to be educated a Protestant in
the church of England, and the bishop to be his guar¬
dian, and lord protector of the kingdom, during his
minority. These, and many more speculations, amu¬
sed the nation at that time ; and men, as usual, judged
of things by the measure of their own affections and
prejudices.
March 23. 1722 3, a bill was brought into the
house of commons, for “ inflicting certain pains and
penalties on Francis Lord Bishop of Rochester j” a
copy of which was sent to him, with notice that he
had liberty of counsel and solicitors for making his
defence. Under these circumstances, the bishop ap¬
plied by petition, to the house of lords, for their
direction and advice as to his conduct in this conjunc¬
ture } and April 4. he acquainted the speaker of the
house of commons, by a letter, that he was determined
to give that house no trouble in relation to the bill de¬
pending therein ; but should be ready to make his de¬
fence against it when it should be argued in another
house, of which he had the honour to be a member.
On the 9th the bill passed the house of commons, and
was the same day sent up to the house of lords for their
concurrence.
May 6th being the day appointed by the lords for
the first reading of the bill, Bishop Atterbury was
brought to Westminster to make his defence. The
counsel for the bishop were, Sir Constantine Phipps and
William Wyne, Esq.; for the king, Mr Reeve and
Mr Wearg. The proceedings continued above a
week; and on Saturday May nth, the bishop was
permitted to plead for himself. This he did in a very
eloquent speech : which he feelingly opens by com¬
plaining of the uncommon severity he had experienced
in the Tower; which was carried to so great a length,
that not even his son-in-law Mr Morice was permitted
to speak to him in any nearer mode than standing in
an open area, whilst the bishop looked out of a two-
pair-of-stairs window. In the course of his defence he
observes, “ Here is a plot of a year or two standing,
to subvert the government with an armed force ; an
invasion from abroad, an insurrection at home : just
when ripe for execution, it is discovered; and twelve
months after the contrivance of this scheme, no con¬
sultation appears, no men corresponding together, no
provision made, no arms, no officers provided, not a
man in arms ; and yet the poor bishop has done all this.
What could tempt me to step thus out of my way ?
Was it ambition, and a desire of climbing into a higher
station in the church ? There is not a man in my office
farther removed from this than I am. Was money my
aim ? I always despised it too much, considering what
occasion I am now like to have for it ; for out of a
poor bishopric of 500I. per annum, I have laid out
no less than xoool. towards the repairs of the church
and episcopal palace ; nor did I take one shilling for
dilapidations. The rest of my little income has been
spent, as is necessary, as I am a bishop. Was I in¬
fluenced by any dislike of the established religion, and
secretly inclined towards a church of greater pomp and
power ? I have, my lords, ever since I knew what
Bopery was, opposed it; and the better l knew it, the
more I opposed it. I began my study in divinity,
when the Popish controversy grew hot, with that im- Atterbnry.
mortal book of Tillotson’s, when he undertook thet<—v-~—*
Protestant cause in general ; and as such, I esteemed
him above all. You will pardon me, my lords, if L
mention one thing: Thirty years ago, I writ in de¬
fence of Martin Luther ; and have preached, expres¬
sed, and wrote to that purpose from my infancy ; and
whatever happens to me, I will softer any thing, and
by God’s grace, burn at the stake, rather than depart
Irom any material point of the Protestant religion as
professed in the church of England. Once more i
Can I be supposed to favour arbitrary power P The
whole tenor of my life has been otherwise S I was al¬
ways a friend to the liberty of the subject; and, to the
best of my power, constantly maintained it. I may
have been thought mistaken in the measures I took to
support it; but it matters not by what party I was
called, so my actions are uniform.” Afterwards,
speaking of the method of proceeding against him as
unconstitutional, he says i “ My ruin is not of that
moment to any number of men, to make it worth
their while to violate, or even to seem to violate, the
constitution in any degree, which they ought to pre¬
serve against any attempts whatsoever. Though I am
worthy of no regard, though whatsoever is done to me
may for that reason be looked upon to be just; yet
your lordships will have some regard to your own last¬
ing interests and that of posterity. This is a proceed¬
ing with which the constitution is unacquainted ; which,
under the pretence of supporting it, will at last effec¬
tually destroy it. For God’s sake, lay aside these ex¬
traordinary proceedings ; set not up these new and
dangerous precedents. I, for my part, will voluntarily
and cheerfully go into perpetual banishment, and please
myself that I am in some measure the occasion of put¬
ting a stop to such precedents, and doing some good
to my country: I will live, wherever lam, praying
for its prosperity ; and do, in the words of Father Paul
to the state of Venice, say, esto perpetua. It is not
my departing from it I am concerned for. Let me de¬
part, and let my country be fixed upon the immoveable
foundation of law and justice, and stand for ever.”
After a solemn protestation of his innocence, and an
appeal to the Searcher of Hearts for the truth of what
he had said, he concludes thus : If, on any account,
there shall still be thought by your lordships to be any
seeming strength in the proofs against me ; if, by your
lordships judgments, springing from unknown motives, I
shall be thought to be guilty ; if, for any reasons or ne¬
cessity of state, of the wisdom and justice of which I am
no competent judge, your lordships shall proceed to pass
this bill against me ; I shall dispose myself quietly and
tacitly to submit to what you do ; God’s will be done :
Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked
shall I return ; and, whether he gives' or takes awav,
blessed be the name of the Lord !”
On Monday the 13th he was carried for the last
time from the Tower to hear the reply of the king’s
counsel to his defence. These were both men of great
knowledge and sagacity in law, but of different talents
in point of eloquence. Their speeches on this occa¬
sion were made public ; and they seemed to have formed
their “ Replies,” designedly, in a different way. The
former sticks close.to the matter in evidence, and en¬
forces the charge against the bishop with great strength
E c 2 and
ATT [ 220 ] ATT
Atterbury. and perspicuity : The latter answers all his objections,
' r—* and refutes the arguments brought in his defence, in
an easy soft manner, and with great simplicity of rea¬
soning. Mr Reeve is wholly employed in facts, in
comparing and uniting together circumstances, in or¬
der to corroborate the proofs of the bishop’s guilt : Mr
Wearg is chiefly taken up in silencing the complaints
of the bishop and his counsel, and replying to every
thing they advance, in order to invalidate the allega¬
tions of his innocence. The one, in short, possesses
the minds of the lords with strong convictions against
the bishop : The other dispossesses them of any favour¬
able impression that might possibly be made upon them
by the artifice of his defence. And accordingly Mr
Reeve is strong, nervous, and enforcing 5 but Mr
Wearg, smooth, easy, and insinuating, both in the man¬
ner of his expression and the turn of his periods. Mr Attcrh
Wearg pays the highest compliments to the bishop’s'——r.
eloquence ; but, at tbe*same time, represents it as em¬
ployed to impose upon the reason, and misguide the
judgment of his hearers in proportion as it affected their
passions 5 and he endeavours to strip the bishop’s de¬
fence of all its ornaments and colour of rhetoric.
On the 15th the bill was read the third time; and
after a long and warm debate, passed on the 16th, by
a majority of 83 to 43. On the 27th, the king came
to the house, and confirmed it by his royal assent.
June 18. 1723, this eminent prelate, having the day
before taken leave of his friends, who, from the time
ef passing the bill against him to the day of his de¬
parture, had free access to him in the Tower (b), em¬
barked on board the Aldborough man of war, and
landed
(b) The following anecdote was first communicated to the public by the late Dr Maty, on the credit of
Lord Chesterfield : “ I went (said Lord Chesterfield) to Mr Pope, one morning, at Twickenham, and found a
large folio bible, with gilt clasps, lying before him upon his table; and, as I knew his way of thinking upon
that book, I asked him, jocosely, if he was going to write an answer to it P It is a present, said he, or rather a
legacy, from my old friend the Bishop of Rochester. I went to take my leave of him yesterday in the Tower,
where I saw this bible upon his table. After the first compliments, the Bishop said to me, ‘ My friend Pope,
considering your infirmities, and my age and exile, it is not likely that we should ever meet again ; and there¬
fore I give you this legacy to remember me by it. Take it home with you : and let me advise you to abide by
it.’—‘ Does your Lordship abide by it yourself?’—‘ I do.’ ‘ If you do, my Lord, it is but lately. May I beg
to know what new light or arguments have prevailed upon you now, to entertain an opinion so contrary to that
which you entertained of that book all the former part of your life?’—The Bishop replied, ‘ We have not time
to talk of these things ; but take home the book; I will abide by it, and I recommend vou to do so too ; and so
God bless you.”
These anecdotes Mr Nichols has inserted in the “ Epistolary Correspondence,” vol. ii. p. 79. with the profess¬
ed view of vindicating Atterbury, in the following words of an ingenious correspondent :
“Dr War ton has revived this story, which he justly calls an ‘ uncommon’ one, in his last ‘ Essay on the
Genius and Writings of Pope.’ It was indeed very uncommon ; and I have my reasons for thinking it equally
groundless and invidious. Dr Warton, though he retails the story from ‘ Maty’s Memoirs,’ yet candidly ac¬
knowledges, that it ought not to be implicitly relied on. That this caution was not unnecessary, will, I appre¬
hend, be sufficiently obvious, from the following comparison between the date of the story itself and Mr Pope’s
letters to the bishop.
“ According to Lord Chesterfield’s account, this remarkable piece of conversation took place but a few
days before the Bishop went into exile: and it is insinuated, that Mr Pope, till that period, had not even enter¬
tained the slightest suspicion of his friend’s reverence for the bible : Nay, it is asserted, that the very recom¬
mendation of it from a quarter so unexpected, staggered Mr Pope to such a degree, that in a mingled vein
of raillery and seriousness, he was very eager to know the grounds and reasons of the Bishop’s change of senti¬
ment.
“ Unfortunately for the credit of Lord Chesterfield and his story, there is a letter on record, that was
wxitten nine months before this pretended dialogue took place, in which Mr Pope seriously acknowledged
the Bishop’s piety and generosity, in interesting himself so zealously and afiectionately in matters which im¬
mediately related to his improvement in the knowledge of the holy scriptures. The passage I refer to is a very
remarkable one ; and you will find it in a letter, dated July 27- 1722. It appears undeniably from this letter,
that the Bishop had earnestly recommended to Mr Pope the study of the bible ; and had softened his zeal with
an unusual urbanity and courtesy, in order to avoid the imputation of ill-breeding, and remove all occasion of
disgust fiom a mind so ‘ tremblingly alive as Mr Pope’s.’ I will transcribe the passage at large. ‘ I ought first
to prepare my mind tor a better knowledge even of good profane writers, especially the moralists, &c. be¬
fore I can be worthy of tasting the Supreme of books, and Sublime of all writings, in which, as in all the
intermediate ones, you may (if your friendship and charity towards me continue so far) be the best guide to
Yours, A. Pope.’ ' h
The last letter of IVIr I ope to the Bishop, previous to his going into exile, was written very early in
June 1^23. It must have been about this time that Pope paid his farewel visit to the Bishop in the Tower.
But whether such a conversation as that which hath been pretended actually took place, may be left to
the determination of every man of common sense, after comparing Lord Chesterfield’s anecdote with Mr Pope’s
letter.
“ 1 here must have been a mistake, or a wilful misrepresentation, somewhere. To determine its origin, or to
mark minutely the various degrees of its progress, till it issued forth into calumny and falsehood, is impossible-
2 I
ATT [ 221 ] ATT
landed the Friday following at Calais. When he went
on shore, having been informed that Lord Bolingbroke,
who had, after the rising of the parliament, received
the king’s pardon, was arrived at the same place on
his return to England, he said, with an air of pleasant¬
ry, “ Then I am exchanged ?” And it was, in the
opinion of Mr Pope on the same occasion, “ a sign of
the nation’s being cursedly afraid of being overrun
with too much politeness, when it could not regain one
great man but at the expence of another.” But the
severity of his treatment did not cease even with his
banishment. The same vindictive spirit pursued him
in foreign climes. No British subject was even per¬
mitted to visit him without the king’s sign manual,
which Mr Morice was always obliged to solicit, not
only for himself, but for every one of his family whom
he carried abroad with him, for which the fees of office
were very high.
When Bishop Atterbury first entered upon his ba¬
nishment, Brussels was the place destined for his resi¬
dence ; but, by the arts and instigations of the British
ministers, he was compelled to leave that place, and
retire to Paris. There being solicited by the friends
of the Pretender to enter into their negociations, he
changed his abode for Montpelier in 1728 ; and, after
residing there about two years, returned to Paris, where
he died Feb. 15. 1731-2. The affliction which he
sustained by the death of his daughter in 1729, was
thought to have hastened his own dissolution. The
former event he hath himself related in a very affecting
manner, in a letter to Mr Pope : “ The earnest desire
of meeting one I dearly loved, called me abruptly to
Montpelier; where, after continuing two months un¬
der the cruel torture of a sad and fruitless expectation,
I was forced at last to take a long journey to Toulouse ;
and even there I had missed the person I sought, had
she not, with great spirit and courage, ventured all
night up the Garonne to see me, which she above all
things desired to do before she died. By that means
she was brought where I was, between seven and eight
in the morning, and lived 20 hours afterwards ; which
time was not lost on either side, but passed in such a
manner as gave great satisfaction to both, and such as,
on her part, every way became her circumstances and
character : For she had her senses to the very last
gasp, and exerted them to give me, in those few
hours, greater marks of duty and love than she had
done in all her lifetime, though she had never been
wanting in either. The last words she said to me were
the kindest of all ; a reflection on the goodness of God,
which had allowed us in this manner to meet once
more, before we parted for ever. Not many minutes
after that, she laid herself on her pillow, in a sleeping
posture,
Placidaque ibi donum morte quievit.
Judge you, Sir, what I felt, and still feel, on this occa¬
sion, and spare me the trouble of describing it. At my
age, under my infirmities, among utter strangers, how
shall I find out proper reliefs and supports ? I can have
none, but those with which reason and religion furnish
me ; and those I laid hold on, and grasp as fast as I
can. I hope that He who laid the burden upon me (for
wise and good purposes no doubt) will enable me to bear
it in like manner, as 1 have borne others, with some
degree of fortitude and firmness.”
How far the bishop might have been attached in his
inclinations to the Stuart family, to which he might be
led by early prejudices of education, and the divided
opinions of the times, it is not necessary here to inquire:
But that he should have been weak enough to engage
in a plot so inconsistent with his station, and so clum¬
sily devised (to say the least of it, and without entering
into his solemn asseveration of innocence), is utterly
inconsistent with that cunning which his enemies al¬
lowed him. The duke of Wharton, it is well known,
was violent against him, till convinced by his unanswer¬
able reasoning*
It has been said that Atterbury’s wishes reached to
the bishopric of London, or even to York or Canter¬
bury. But those who were better acquainted with his
views, knew that Winchester would have been much
more desirable to him than either of the others. And
there are those now living, who have been told from
respectable authority, that that bishopric was offered
to him whenever it should become vacant (and till that
event should happen, a pension of 5000I. a-year, be¬
sides an ample provision for Mr Morice), if he would
cease to give the opposition he did to Sir Eobert Wal¬
pole’s administration, by his speeches and protests in
the house of lords. When that offer was rejected by
the bishop, then the contrivance for his ruin was deter¬
mined on.
In his speech in the house of lords, the bishop men¬
tions his being “ engaged in a correspondence with two
learned men (Bishop Potter and Dr Wall) on settling
the times of writing the four gospels.” Part of this
correspondence is still in being, and will soon be pub¬
lished. The same subject the bishop pursued during
his exile, having consulted the learned of all nations,
and had nearly brought the whole to a conclusion when
he died. These laudable labours are an ample con¬
futation of Bishop Newton’s assertion, that Atterbury
“ wrote little whilst in exile but a few criticisms on
French authors.”
His body was brought over to England, and in¬
terred on the 12th of May following in Westminster
abbey, in a vault which in the year 1722 had been
prepared by his directions. There is no memorial over
his grave ; nor could there well be any, unless his
friends would have consented (which it is most pro¬
bable they refused to do) that the words implying him
to have died bishop of Eochester should have been
omitted on his tomb.
Some
I have simply stated matters of fact as they are recorded ; and leave it to your readers to settle other points not
quite so obvious and indisputable, as they may think fit. My motives in this very plain narration arose from an
honest wish to remove unmerited obloquy from the dead. I should sincerely rejoice if the cloud which in other
respects still shades the character of this ingenious prelate could be removed with equal facility and success. I
am, dear Sir, your faithful humble servant, Samuel Badcock.”
• A T T [2
Atterhury. Some time before bis death, be published a vindi-
—v—’ cation of himself, Bishop Smalridge, and Dr Aldrich,
from a charge brought against them by Mr Oldmixon,
of having altered and interpolated the copy of Lord
Clarendon’s “ History of the Rebellion.” Bishop
Atterbury’s “ Sermons” are extant in four volumes in
octavo: those contained in the two first were published
by himself, and dedicated to his great patron Sir Jona¬
than Trelawney bishop of Winchester ; those in the
two last were published after his death by Dr Thomas
Moore, his lordship’s chaplain. Four admirable “ Vi¬
sitation Charges” accompany his “ Epistolary Corre¬
spondence.”
As to Bishop Atterbury’s character, however the
moral and political part of it may have been different¬
ly represented by the opposite parties, it is universally
agreed, that he was a man of great learning and un¬
common abilities, a fine writer, and a most excellent
preacher. His learned friend Smalridge, in the speech
he made when he presented him to the upper house
of convocation, as prolocutor, styles him Vir in nullo
Hterarum genere hospes, in plerisque artibus et studiis
diu et feliciter exercitatus, in maximeperfectis literarum
disciplinisperfectissimus. In his controversial writings,
he was sometimes too severe upon his adversary, and
dealt rather too much in satire and invective 5 but
this his panegyrist imputes more to the natural fervour
of his wit than to any bitterness of temper or pre¬
pense malice. In his sermons, however, he is not
only every way unexceptionable, but highly to be com¬
mended. The truth is, his talent as a preacher was
so excellent and remarkable, that it may not impro-
2 ] ATT
perly be said, that he owed his preferment to the pul- ...
pit. “ He has,” says an author in the Tatler, “ so par- ^
ticular a regard to his congregation, that he commits Attica,
to his memory what he has to say to them ; and has so't-
soft and graceful a behaviour, that it must attract your
attention. His person, it is to be confessed, is no small
recommendation ^ buthe is tobehighlycommendedfor not
losing that advantage, and adding to propriety of speech
(which might pass the criticism of Longinus) an action
which would have been approved by Demosthenes. He
never attempts your passions, till he has convinced
your reason. All the objections which you can form
are laid open and dispersed before he uses the least
vehemence in his sermon ; but when he thinks he has
your head, he very soon wins your heart, and never pre¬
tends to show the beauty of holiness, till he has convin¬
ced you of the truth of it.”—In his letters to Pope, &c.
Bishop Atterbury appears in a pleasing light, both as a
writer and as a man.
ATTESTATION, the act of affirming or witness¬
ing the truth of something, more especially in writing.
ATTIC, any thing relating to Attica, or to the city
of Athens : thus Attic salt, in philology, is a delicate
poignant sort of wit and humour peculiar to the Athe¬
nian writers j Attic witness, a witness incapable of cor¬
ruption, &c.
Attic Order. See Architecture.
Attic Base, a peculiar kind of base used by the
ancient architects in the Ionic order; and by Palladio,
and some others in the Doric.
Attic Story, in Architecture; a story in the upper
part of a house, where the windows are usually square.
ATTICA.
Attica, A TTICA, an ancient kingdom of Greece, situated
1^ — > J- L along the north coast of the gulf of Saron ; bound-
Boundaries et^ °n ^ WeSt ^ ^egara> Mount Cithseron, and part of
extent &c! ®oeo^a j on north by the strait of Euripus, now
Stretto di negro ponte, and Bceotia; and on the east
by the Euripus. It extends in length from north-west
to south-west about 60 miles ; its breadth from north
to south was 56, decreasing as it approached the sea.
The soil of this country was naturally barren and
craggy, though by the industry of its inhabitants it
2 produced all the necessaries of life. On this account
Inhabitants Attica was less exposed to invasions than other more
thought to fertile countries; and hence it preserved its ancient in¬
habitants beyond all the other kingdoms in its neigh¬
bourhood : so that they were reputed to be the sponta¬
neous productions of the soil ; and as a badge of this,
Thucydides tells ns, they wore golden grasshoppers in
their hair.
The chief cities in the kingdom of Attica were
Athens the capital ; next to it Eleusis, situated on the
same gulf, near the coast ofMegara; and next to that
Rhamnus, famed for the temple of Amphiaraus and the
Cecrops the sta^ue the goddess Nemesis.
first king. first king of this country, of whom we have any
be produ¬
ced from
the soil.
. . 3
Cities.
distinct account, was Cecrops. Others indeed are said Attio*.
to have reigned before him, particularly one Actaeus,u'1^'
whose daughter Cecrops married, and in her right laid
the foundation of his new monarchy. Cecrops is said to
have been the first who deified Jupiter, set up altars and
idols, and instituted marriage among the Greeks. He
is likewise affirmed to have taught his subjects naviga¬
tion ; and for the better administration of justice, and
promoting intercourse among them, to have divided them
into the first four tribes, called Cecropis, Autochthon,
Actea and Par alia; and he is also by some said to be
the founder of the Areopagus. From this monarch the
Athenians affected to call themselves Cecropidce till the
reign of Erectheus their sixth king, after whom they
took the name of Erecthydce.
Cecrops dying after a reign of 50 years, left three Cranaw
daughters ; by marrying one of whom, probably, Cra-
naus a wealthy citizen ascended the throne. He enjoy¬
ed his crown peaceably for ten years; till, having mar¬
ried one of his daughters named Attis, to Amphictyon
the son of Deucalion, he was by him dethroned, and ’
forced to lead a private life to the last. From this^*^
daughter, the country, which before had been called wasca||ei
Actea, took the name of Attica.
Aftev
ATT
Aca_ After a reign of loor 12 years, Amphictyon was
Uwn ' Iiimself deposed by Erictbonius, said to be the son of
Vulcan and Tethys. Being lame of both bis feet, be
En<K js gajd to have invented coaches, or, as others will have
11181:1, it, instituted horse and chariot races, in honour of Mi-
paniun. nerva. He is also reported to have been the first who
stamped silver coin. He reigned 50 years, and was
succeeded by his son Pandion, the father of Progne and
Philomela j whose hard fate, so famous among the
poets, is supposed to have broke his heart, after a reign
of about 40 years. In his time Triptolemus taught
the Athenians agriculture, which he had learned from
, Ceres.
Ercdeus. Pandion was succeeded by his son Erectheus, who
being reckoned the most powerful prince of his time,
Boreas king ol Thrace demanded his daughter Orithia
in marriage, and on being refused carried her off by
force. After a reign of 50 years, Erectheus being
1 killed in a battle with the Eleusians, was succeeded by
tcc:i)s II. his son Cecrops II. who is generally allowed to have
been the first who gathered the people into towns-,
they having till then lived in houses and cottages scat¬
tered here and there, without order or regular distance.
After a reign of 40 years he was driven out by his bre¬
thren Metion and Pandorus, who forced him to fly into
vEgialea, where he died.
>’an»n II. Cecrops II. was succeeded by his son Pandion II.
and he was likewise driven out by Metion, who assumed
the government. Pandion in the mean time fled into
Megara, where he married Peiia the daughter of Pylas
king of that place, and was appointed successor to the
kingdom. Here he had four sons, who returning to
Athens, whether with or without their father is uncer¬
tain, expelled the sons of Metion, and after the decease
of Pandion their father, divided the government among
themselves; notwithstanding which, the royal dignity
did in effect remain with yEgeus the eldest.
-Ego. iEgeus, when he ascended the throne, finding him¬
self despised by his subjects because he had no sons, and
sometimes insulted by his brother Pallas, who had no
less than fifty, consulted the oracle of Apollo at Del¬
phi. Receiving here, as was commonly the case, an
answer which could not be understood without a com¬
mentator, he applied to Pittheus king of Troezen, fa¬
mous for his skill in expounding oracles. This prince
easily prevailed with him to lie with his daughter aE-
thra, who proved with child 5 and as none but these
three were privy to the secret, iEgeus, before his re¬
turn to Athens, hid a sword and a pair of shoes under a
stone, leaving orders with the princess, that if the child
proved a boy, she should send him to Athens with these*
tokens as soon as he was able to lift up that stone. He
charged her moreover to use all imaginable secrecy, lest
the sons of his brother Pallas should waylay and murder
xi him.
ilesi‘5 iEthra being delivered of a son, Pittheus gave out
0ni*1 tliat Neptune was the father of it. This child was
named Theseus, and proved one of the most famous
heroes of antiquity. Being arrived at the age of 16,
his mother brought him to the stone above mentioned j
and he having lifted it with ease, was desired to take
up the sword and shoes and prepare himself to go to
his father. He was advised to go by sea rather than
by land, as, ever since the departure of Hercules, the
roads had been exceedingly infested by banditti. The-
I C A. 223
seus, however, who had already begun to discover Attica,
marks of uncommon strength and courage, no sooner t., —.1
li-eard the name of Hercules mentioned, than he be¬
came desirous of imitating so great a pattern; and after
performing a number of glorious exploits, for which see
the article Theseus, he arrived safe at his father’s
capital. _ 14
The great atchievements of our young hero pro-Is made
cured him a welcome reception at the court of A£gens, known to
though his birth was unknown to all except Medea, to^sfal^er-
whom the king had lately been married. This queen
being a sorceress, it is not to be supposed any thing
could be concealed from her : she therefore, by her
diabolical penetration, quickly found out that Theseus
was the king’s son ; after which she became so jealous
of h im on account of his valour, that she persuaded her
old husband to invite the young stranger to a banquet,
and poison him in a glass of wine. The poison was ac¬
cordingly prepared, and Theseus invited ; but the
prince suddenly drawing bis sword, it was immediately
recognised by iEgeus to be the same he had formerly
buried below the stone. Upon this he stepped forward
to Theseus, throwing down the poisoned draught in his
way ; and, embracing him with much tenderness, own¬
ed him for his son before all the court.
At this time the king of Athens had great occasion
for such a champion as Theseus. The sons of Pallas,
who had all along behaved with great insolence, upon
Theseus being discovered to be the king’s son, and
heir apparent to the crown, broke out in open rebel¬
lion. They were soon discomfited ; but iEgeus and i5
the whole country of Attica were still in great distress He kills the
on the following account. Some years before, Andro- Minotaur,
geus, the son of Minos king of Crete, came to A-
thens to be present at one of their feasts. During this
visit he contracted such an intimacy with the fifty sons
of Pallas, that jEgeus, fearing some fatal consequen¬
ces, caused him to be privately murdered. Accord¬
ing to others, Androgeus having undertaken to en¬
counter the Marathonian hull, was killed by it. Be
this as it will, Minos having received news of his son’s
death, imputed it to the people of Attica ; and there¬
fore, after several unsuccessful attempts to revenge his
own quarrel, prayed to the gods to do it for him..
The Athenians, in consequence of this prayer, were vi¬
sited with earthquakes, famine, and pestilence ; on ac¬
count of which they applied to the oracle. Here they
were informed, that no relief was to be had till they
were reconciled to the Cretan king. Minos resolving
to make them pay dear for their deliverance, imposed
upon them a tribute of seven young men and as many
virgins, whom he condemned to be devoured by the
Minotaur, a monster feigned by the poets to have been
halt man and half bull. This bloody tribute bad been
twice paid, and Minos had already sent his messengers
the third time, when Theseus willingly oflered himself
to he one of the unhappy victims ; and embarking with
them in one ship, he gave the pilot two sails, the one
black to sail with, and the other white to he hoisted
up at his return incase he came oft’victorious. Our
hero had all the success he could wish : he killed the
Minotaur, prevailed with Minos to remit the tribute,
and his daughter Ariadne to run away with him ; but
her he left with child in the isle of Naxos. Unfortu¬
nately, however, for AEgeus, the joy of Theseus and
Ins-,
2 24
ATTICA.
Attica,
16
Death of
^Dgeus.
Theseus
king of At¬
tica,
iS
New mo¬
dels the gO'
vermnent.
t9 ,
Defeats the
Amazons,
kills the
Centaurs,
and carries
off Helena.
his company was so great, that at their return they
forgot to hoist the white flag in token of their victory :
upon which the old king, taking for granted that his
son was killed, threw himself into the sea, which ever
since has from him been called the JEgeun Sea.
Theseus being thus left in possession of the kingdom
of Attica, began immediately to think of indulging his
warlike genius, and rendering the civil affairs of his
kingdom as little troublesome as possible. To accom¬
plish this purpose, he began with gathering most of the
people of Attica into the old and new town, which he
incorporated into one city. After this he divested
himself of all his regal power, except the title of king,
the command of the army, and the guardianship of
the laws. The rest he committed to proper magistrates
chosen out of three different orders of the people, whom
he divided into nobles, husbandmen, and artificers.
The first he invested with the power of interpreting and
executing the laws, and regulating whatever related to
religion. The other two chose their inferior magistrates
from among themselves, to take care of whatever rela¬
ted to their separate orders : so that the kingdom was
in some measure reduced to a commonwealth, in which
the king had the greatest post, the nobles were next
to him in honour and authority, the husbandmen had
the greatest profit, and the artists exceeded them in
number. He likewise abolished all their distinct courts
of judicature, and built one common council hall called
Prytaneum, which stood for many ages afterwards.
Having thus new-modelled the government, his next
care was to join to his dominions the kingdom of Me-
gara, in right of his grandfather Pandion 11. who had
married the daughter of Pylas, as above mentioned. ,On
this occasion he erected the famous pillar in the isthmus,
which showed the limits of the two countries that met
there. On the one side of this pillar was inscribed,
“ This is not Peloponnesus, but Ionia and on the
other, “ This is Peloponnesus, not Ionia.” After this
he undertook an expedition against the Amazons,
whom he overcame, took their queen Hippolita, and
afterwards married her. Soon after this, Theseus con¬
tracted an intimacy with Perithous the son of Ixion :
and being invited to his nuptials, assisted him in kill¬
ing a number of Centaurs, or rather Thessalian horse¬
men (who in their cups had offered violence to their
female guests), and drove the rest out of the country.
Our two associates then proceeded to Sparta, where
I heseus fell in love with the famed Helena, at that
time not above nine years old, while he himself w'as
upwards of fifty. Her they carried oft’: and of the
rape there are various accounts j but the following one,
which is given by Plutarch, is generally allowed to be
the most authentic.
According to that historian, they stole this beauty,
the greatest in the world at that time, out of the temple
of Diana Ortia, where Helena happened to be dan¬
cing. They were pursued as far as Tegea, but made
their escape out of Peloponnesus } and thinking them¬
selves now secure of their prey, they agreed to cast lots
for her, upon condition that he to whose lot she fell
should assist the other in procuring some celebrated
beauty. Fortune having declared for Theseus, lie as¬
sisted his companion in the like attempt upon Proser¬
pina daughter of Aidonius king of the Mollossi in
Epirus j who, being the next beauty to Helena, was
Attica,
' Dmen
guarded by the dog Cerberus, which had three heads,
and was consequently a very formidable enemy. Her
father, however, understanding that they designed to
steal aw-ay his daughter, threw Perithous to be torn in
pieces by Cerberus, and put Theseus in prison, from 1
whence he was afterwards relieved at the intercession
of Hercules. . ^ ofEpiiui,
After this misfortune, Theseus at length returned to
Athens, but found himself very coolly received by his
subjects. Mnestheus, the son of Pteus, and great-
grandson of Erectheus, had made use of the king’s ab¬
sence to ingratiate himself with the people j and, upon
the commencement of a war with Castor and Pollux, the
two brothers of Helena, he persuaded the people of
Athens to open their gates to the two brothers. Up-
pon this, Theseus was under the necessity of conveying of Atheus.
away himself and family with all possible privacy. This
he luckily accomplished ; and designed to have sailed to
Crete, to have obtained assistance from Deucalion son
of Minos, and now brother-in-law to Theseus himself,
he having lately married Phaedra sister to Deucalion.
Unfortunately, however, our hero was shipwrecked on
the island of Scyros. Here he was at first kindly re- 21
ceived by Lycomedes the king of that island $ but wasHisdeai
soon after killed by a fall from a high rock, over which
some say he was pushed by Lycomedes himself, who
had been prevailed on to destroy Theseus in that
manner by Mnestheus, that he might with the more se¬
curity enjoy the kingdom of Athens. ^
Mnestheus reigned 24 years, but lost his life at the Mnestkus,
siege of Troy } and w’as succeeded by Demophon one Demopb,
of the sons of Theseus by Phaedra, who was likewise at&0'
the siege of Troy, but had the good fortune to return in
safety. In his reign was erected the famous court of
the Ephetse •, consisting originally of 50 Athenians and
as many Argives, for trying of wilful murders. By
this court the king himself afterwards submitted to be
tried for having accidentally killed one of his subjects.
He reigned 33 years, and was succeeded by his son,
according to some, or according to others his brother,
Oxyntes, who reigned 12 years. Oxyntes wras suc¬
ceeded by his son Aphydes, who was murdered by
Thymsetes the bastard son of Oxyntes. 24
This king discovered many base qualities unworthy Thy™*1'5
of his^dignity ; and at last was deposed by his subjects
on the following occasion. Xanthus king of Bceotia
had a contest with the Athenians about one of their
frontier towns. He offered to decide the matter by
single combat with the king; but this w’as declined by
Thymsetes. It happened, that at that time one Me-
lanthus a Messenian, who had been driven out of his
country by the Heraclidae, was come to Athens; who
accepted the king of Boeotia’s challenge. At the first
onset, Melanthus asked his adversary, why he had, con¬
trary to the articles, brought a second into the field with
him P and as Xanthus immediately looked about to see
who was behind him, Melanthus run him through with
his lance. This victory, though it did little honour to
him who gained it, was so agreeable to the Athenians,
that they deposed their cowardly king Thymsetes, af¬
ter he had reigned 8 years ; and appointed" Melanthus
in his stead, who after a reign of 37 years left the king¬
dom to his son Codrus.
This prince reigned about 21 years ; during which
time the Dores and Heraclidse had regained all Pelo¬
ponnesus,
S Hi
til,,
«Ini
ATT
At(;a ponnesus, and were upon the point of entering into
ugrt  Attica. Codrus, being informed that the oracle had
■ promised them victory provided they did not kill the
i tdn die ^[rig 0f Athenians, came immediately to a resolu-
.jttf tion of dying for his country. Disguising himself,
msi for therefore, like a peasant, he went into the enemy’s
ligcjutiy. camp, and quarrelling with some of the soldiers, was
killed by them. On the morrow, the Athenians know¬
ing what was done, sent to demand the body of their
king j at which the invaders were so terrified, that they
decamped without striking a blow,
iepuiean Upon the death of Codrus, a dispute which happened
oycj: among his sons concerning the succession, furnished the
uentiitro-Athenians with a pretence for ridding themselves of
licctf their kings altogether, and changing the monarchical
form of government into a republican one. It was im¬
probable, they said, that they should ever have so good
a king as Codrus 5 and to prevent their having a worse,
they resolved to have no king but Jupiter. That they
might not, however, seem ungrateful to the family of
Codrus, they made his son Medon their supreme magi¬
strate, with the title of archon. They afterwards ren¬
dered that office decennial, but continued it still in the
family of Codrus. The extinction of the Medontidse
at last left them without restraint; upon which they not
only made this office annual, but created nine archons.
By the latter invention they provided against the too
great power of a single person, as by the former they
took away all apprehension of the archons having time
to establish themselves, so as to change the constitution.
In a word, they now attained what they had long sought,
viz. the making the supreme magistrates dependant on
the people.
We have a list of these archons for upwards of 600
years, beginning with Creon, who lived about 684
years before Christ, to Herodes, who lived only 60
years before that time. The first archon of whom we
.hear any thing worth notice, is named Draco. He
reigned in the second, or, as others say, in the last year
of the 39th Olympiad, when it is supposed he publish¬
ed his laws : but though his name is very frequently
mentioned in history, yet no connected account can be
found either of him or his institutions ; only, in gene¬
ral, his laws were exceedingly severe, inflicting death
for the smallest faults; which gave occasion to one De¬
filades an orator to observe, that the laws of Draco
were written with blood, and not with ink. For this
extraordinary severity he gave no other reason, than
that small faults seemed to him to be worthy of death,
and he could find no higher punishment for the great¬
est. He was far advanced in years when he gave laws
Athens ; and to give his institutions the greater
weight, he would not suffer them to be called nomoi,
or laws, but thesmoi, or sanctions proceeding from more
than human wisdom. "Ihe extreme severity of these
laws, however, soon made the Athenians weary both
of them and the author of them ; upon which Draco was
obliged to retire to TEgina. Here he was received with
the highest honours: but the favour of the inhabitants
of this place proved more fatal to him than the hatred
of the Athenians; for coming one day into the thea¬
tre, the audience, to show their regard, threw, as the
lei'i. custom then was, their cloaks upon him; and the mul¬
titude of these being very great, they stifled the old man,
who was too weak to disengage himself from their load.
Vol. III. Part I. +
21
racotttn
itorii
then:
25,1
i'elltt
cltj)
30
I C A. 225
After the expulsion of Draco, nothing remarkable Aitica.
happened at Athens till the year before Christ 606  v~—
when we find the republic engaged in a war with the . 31
Mitylenians about the city Sigaeum, situated near the 11,1'
mouth of the river Scamander. The Athenian army
was commanded by Phrynon, a person equally' remark¬
able for the comeliness of his person and the generosity
of his mind. The Mitylenians ivere commanded by
Pittacus, one of the celebrated sages of Greece. As
these commanders looked upon the honour of their re¬
spective countries to be concerned, they exerted them¬
selves to the utmost. At last they met in single com¬
bat ; wherein Phrynon depended on his valour only :
but Pittacus concealed behind his shield a net, where-
with he suddenly entangled his antagonist, and easily
slew him. This, however, not putting an end to the
war, Periander tyrant of Corinth interposed ; and both
parties having submitted to his arbitration, he decreed
that Sigaeum should belong to the Athenians.
About seven years after this war, a conspiracy was Cylon’s
formed by Cylon son-in-law to Theagenes ty’rant of conspiracy.
Megara, who, having by his affable behaviour procured
many friends, formed a design of seizing the sovereignty
of Athens. Having consulted the oracle as to the most
proper time, he was directed to make the attempt when
the citizens of Athens were employed in celebrating
their highest feasts to Jupiter. When many of the
citizens therefore were gone to the Olympic games,
Cylon and his associates made themselves masters of the
citadel. Here they were instantly besieged by Mega-
cles at that time archon, and soon reduced to great
distress for want of water. The chief, together witlx
his brother, found means to make their escape, but the
meaner sort were left to shift for themselves. In this
extremity they fled to the temple of Minerva; from
whence Megacles with much ado prevailed upon them
to come down and submit themselves to the mercy of
their country. Having at last assented to this, they
tied a cord to the image of the goddess, and carried
the clue with them, to demonstrate, that though they
were out of the temple they were still under Minerva’s
protection. Unfortunately tor them, however, as they
passed the temple of the Furies, the line snapt of itself;
which Megacles construing into a renunciation by the
goddess, caused his men to fall upon them and despatch
as many as they could find. Such as were without the Conspira-
temple were immediately massacred, and those who fled tors massa-
thither again were murdered in their sanctuary. Incredby
short, none escaped but such as bribed the wives of^effacles»
the officers of justice. This carnage, however, did not
put an end to the sedition. The remains of Cylon’s
faction created great disturbances, by insinuating that
the violation of Minerva’s sanctuary had drawn down
the anger of the gods; and these discourses had such who'is t*e
an effect, that Megacles and his officers were styled crated by
execrable, and held to be persons under the displeasure the people,
of heaven.
During the time of this confusion, the Megarensians tt 25
attacked Nisea, which they took, as well as Salamis ; fu^war' S"
and so completely routed the Athenians in every at-with Me-
tempt to recover the latter, that a law was at last pas-gara.
sed, by which it should be capital for any one to pro¬
pose the recovery of Salamis. About the same time
the city was disturbed by reports of frightful appear¬
ances, and filled with superstitious fears; the oracle at
U f Delphi
226
Attica.
Epkneni-
des’s expia
tion and
prophecy.
37
Solon the
wise legi-
lator.
33
Salamis re¬
covered by
his means.
ATT
Delphi was therefore consulted, and an answer return¬
ed that the city behoved to be expiated. Upon this,
Epimenides the Phestian was sent for from Crete, to
perform the necessary ceremonies, he being reputed a
holy man, and one that was deeply skilled in all the
mysteries of religion. Ills expiation consisted in ta¬
king some black, and some white sheep, turning them
all loose, and directing some persons to follow them to
those places where they couched, and there to sacrifice
them to the local deity. He caused also many temples
and chapels to be erected, two of which have been pax1-
ticularly noted, viz. the chapel of Contumely and that
of Impudence. This man is said to have looked wist¬
fully on the port of Munychia for a long time, and
then to have spoke as follows to those that w’ere near
him : “ How blind is man to future things ! for did the
Athenians know what mischief will one day be deri¬
ved to them from this place, they would eat it with
their teeth.” This prediction was thought to be ac¬
complished 270 years after, when Antipater constrained
the Athenians to admit a Macedonian garrison into
that place.
About 597 years before Christ, Solon the famed
Athenian legislator began to show himself to his coun¬
trymen. He is said to have been lineally descended
from Codrus; but left by his father in circumstances
rather necessitous, which obliged him to apply to mer¬
chandise ; it is plain, however, both from his words
and wi'itings, that he was a disinterested patriot. The
shameful decree, that none under pain of death should
propose the recovery of Salamis, grieved him so much,
that having composed an elegy of 100 verses, such as
he thought would be most proper to inflame the
minds of the people, he ran into the market-place as if
he had been mad, with his night-cap on his head, i'e-
peating his elegy. A crowd being gathered round the
pretended madman, his kinsman Pisistratus mingled
among the rest, and observing the people moved with
Solon’s words, he also seconded him with all the elo¬
quence he was master of j and between them they pre¬
vailed so far as to have the law repealed, and a war
was immediately commenced against the people of Me-
gara. Who was commander in this expedition is not
ceitain 5 but the city was recovered, according to the
most general account, by the following stratagem. So¬
lon coming with Pisistratus to Colias, and finding there
the women busy in celebrating, according to custom,
the feast of Ceres, sent a confidant of his to Salamis,
who pretended to be no friend to the people of Attica,
telling the inhabitants of Salamis, that if they had a
mind to seize the fairest of the Athenian ladies, they
might now do it by passing over to Colias. The Mega-
rensians giving easy credit to what the man said, imme¬
diately fitted out a ship; which Solon perceiving from
the opposite shore, dismissed the women, and having
dressed a number of beaxalless youths in female habits,
under which they concealed every one a dagger, he sent
them to the sea-side to dance and divert themselves as
the women were wont to do. When those who came
from Salamis saw these voung persons skipping up and
down, they strove who should be first on shore ; but
were every one of them killed, and their vessel seized ;
aboard which the Athenians embarking, sailed immedi¬
ately to Salamis and took it.
On the return of Solon to Athens, he was greatly
I C A.
honoured by the people, to whom another occasion of ^uics 1
admiring his wisdom was quickly afforded. The in-*
habitants of Cirrha, a town situated in the bay of Co- 39
rinth, after having by repeated incursions wasted the
territory of Delphi, at last besieged the capital itself,
with a view of making themselves masters of the trea-Sion’s "
sures contained in the temple of Apollo. Advice of wisdom,
this intended sacrilege being sent to the Amphictyons,
who were the states-genei’al of Greece, Solon advised
that the matter should be universally resented, and that
all the states should join in punishing the Cirrhseans, and
saving the Delphic oracle. This advice was complied
with, and a genex-al war against Cirrha declared. Cly-
sthenes, tyrant of Sicyon, commanded in chief, and Alc-
maeon was general of the Athenian quota. Solon went
as assistant or counsellor to Clysthenes, and by follow¬
ing his advice the war was conducted to a prosperous
issue. For when the Greek army had besieged Cirrha
for some time without any appearance of success, the
oracle at Delphi was consulted, from whence the follow¬
ing answer was returned :
“ In vain you hope to take the place before
“ The sea’s blue waves x’oll o’er the hallowed shore.”
This answer struck the whole army with surprise, till
Solon advised Clysthenes to consecrate solemnly the
whole territory of Cirrha to the Delphic Apollo ; so
as that was a maritime counti’y, the sea must then wash
the saci'ed coast. According to Pausanias, the city
was reduced by the following stratagem, likewise in¬
vented by Solon. He caused the river Plistus, which
run through Cirrha, to be turned into another chan¬
nel, hoping thereby to have distressed the inhabitants
for want of water: but finding they had many wells
within the city, and were not to be reduced by that
means, he caused a vast quantity of roots of hellebore to
be thrown into the river, which was then suffered to re¬
turn into its former bed. The inhabitants, overjoyed
at the sight of running water, came in troops to drink
of it: whereupon an epidemic flux ensued, and the ci¬
tizens being no longer able to defend the walls, the
town was easily taken. ,,
On the return of Solon to Athens he found thingsAthensis
again in the utmost confusion. The remnant of Cy-greatcon-
Ion’s faction gave out, that all sorts of misfortunes had^5100,
befallen the republic on account of the impiety of Me-
gacles and his followers ; which clamour was heighten¬
ed by the retaking of Salamis about this time by the
Megarensians. Solon interposed, and persuaded those
who wei'e styled execrable to abide a trial, and 300 per- 41
sons were chosen to judge them. The event vyas, that-Megaclen
300 of Megacles’s party who were alive were sent in-P?^*’
to pex-petual banishment, and the bones of such as were
dead were dug up and sent without the limits of their
country. 41
Though this decision restox-ed the public quiet for thelbreefe
present, it was not long before the people were divided d0BSiit8rl
into three factions, contending about the proper formnP‘
of govex-nment. These were called the Diacrii, Pedicel,
and Parali; the first of these were the inhabitants of
the hilly country, who declared positively for demo¬
cracy ; the second, dwelling in the lower parts, and
who were far more opulent than the former, declared
for an oligarchy, as supposing the government would
fall mostly into their hands j the third party, who lived
1 i
1 ill
i*
siar
i:*
on
ATT
a on the sea-coast, were people of moderate principles,
> and therefore were for a mixed government. Besides
the disturbances raised on this account, others were
occasioned by the rich oppressing the poor. According
to Plutarch, the poor being indebted to the rich, ei¬
ther tilled their grounds and paid them the sixth part
of the produce, or engaged their bodies for their debts,
so that many were made slaves at home, and many sold
into other countries j nay, some were obliged to sell
their children to pay their debts, and others in despair
quitted Attica altogether. The greatest part, how¬
ever, were for throwing off the yoke, and began to
look about for a leader, openly declaring that they in¬
tended to change the form of government, and make a
repartition of lands. In this extremity, the eyes of all
the citizens were cast upon Solon. The most prudent
were for offering him the sovereignty ; but be perceiving
their intentions, behaved in such a manner as to cheat
both parties, and showed a spirit of patriotism perhaps
never equalled. He refused the sovereignty as far as it
might have benefited himself; and yet took upon him¬
self all the care and trouble of a prince, for the sake of
h his people.
lolonho- He was chosen archon without having recourse to
ea ahon. lots, and after his election disappointed the hopes of
both parties. It was Solon’s fundamental maxim, That
those laws will be best observed which power and jus¬
tice equally support. Wherever, therefore, he found
the old constitution consonant to justice in any tole¬
rable degree, he refused to make any alteration at all,
and was at extraordinary pains to show the reason of
the changes he did make. In short, being a perfect
judge of human nature, he sought to rule only by
showing his subjects that it was their interest to obey,
and not by forcing upon them what he himself esteem¬
ed best. Therefore, to a person who asked whether he
had given the Athenians the best laws in his power, he
replied, “ I have established the best they could re¬
ceive.”
ettb uli *° ^ie ma‘n cause of sedition, viz. the oppressed
isorrs. state of the meaner sort, Solon removed it by a contri¬
vance which he called sisachthia, i. e. discharge ; but
what this was, authors are not agreed upon. Some
say that he released all debts then in being, and prohi¬
bited the taking any man’s person for payment of a
debt for the future. According to others, the poor
were eased, not by cancelling the debts, but by lower¬
ing the interest, and increasing the value of money j a
mina, which before was made equal to 73 drachms only,
being by him made equal to 100; which was of great
advantage to the debtor, and did the creditor no hurt.
It is, however, most probable that the sisachthia was a
general remittance of all debts whatever, otherwise So¬
lon could not have boasted in his verses that he had re¬
moved so many marks of mortgages (b) as were every¬
where frequent; that he had freed from apprehension
1 such as were driven to despair, &c.
ifaans the midst of all Solon’s glory, an accident
eha^ur hefel him, which, for a time, hurt his reputation, and
fhwhreehad almost entirely ruined his schemes. He had con-
leno J
I C A. 227
suited Conon, Clinias, and Hipponicus, his three Attica
friends, on an oration prepared with a view to engage —y—
the people’s consent to the discharge j and these three
men, thus knowing there was to be a general discharge
of debts, basely took the opportunity of borrowing
vast sums before the law was promulgated, in conse¬
quence of which they were never obliged to return
them.
This was thought at first to have been done with
Solon’s consent, and that he had shared in the money ;
but this aspersion was quickly wiped off when it ap¬
peared that the lawgiver himself was a very consider¬
able loser by his own law. His friends, however,
could never recover their credit, but were ever after¬
wards stigmatized with the opprobrious appellation of
chreocopidce, or debt-sinkers. ^
The Athenians were as little pleased with Solon’s Solon bla-
management as with their former condition; the rich med at first,
thinking he had done too much in cancelling the mo-^utafte®*
ney-debts due to them, and the poor that he had done
too little, because he had not divided the lands of At-and chosen
tica equally. In a short time, however, they acquies-legislator,
ced in the new institutions, and gave a more public
token of their repentance than they had before shown
of their displeasure, instituting a solemn sacrifice under
the name of Sisachthia, at the same time that Solon was
unanimously elected legislator of Athens, with full
power to make laws, and alter or new-model the consti¬
tution as he thought fit.
Solon being now invested with unlimited authority, Compiles &
set about the arduous task of compiling new laws for new body
the turbulent people of Attica; which having at ]a3t<)flaws»
completed in the best manner he was able, or in the
best manner the nature of the people would admit, he
procured them to be ratified for 100 years. Such as
related to private actions were preserved on parallelo¬
grams of wood, with cases which reached from the
ground, and turned about upon a pin like a wheel.
These were thence called axones ; and were placed
first in the citadel, and afterwards in the prytaneum,
that all the subjects might have access to them when
they pleased. Such as concerned public institutions
and sacrifices were contained in triangular tables of
stone called cyrbes. The Athenian magistrates were
sworn to observe both ; and in process of time these
monuments of Solon’s wisdom became so famous, that
all public acts were from them named Axones and Cyr-
hes' . 4$
After the promulgation of the laws, Solon found He goe*
himself obliged to leave Athens, to prevent his being abroad foe
continually teazed for explanations and alterations often years*
them. He therefore pretended an inclination to mer¬
chandise, and obtained leave to absent himseJf for 10
years, during which time he hoped the laws would be
grown familiar. From Athens Solon travelled into
Egypt, where he conversed with Psenophis the He-
liopolitan, and Sonchis the Saite, the most learned
priests of that age. From these he learned the situa¬
tion of the island Atlantis, of which he wrote an ac¬
count in verse, which Plato afterwards continued gee
F f 2 From lantis.
(b) The Athenians had a custom of hanging up billets to show that houses were engaged for such and such sums
of money.
228
ATTICA.
Attica.
.49
Things fall
into disor¬
der in his
absence.
50
He returns
to Athens,
but refuses
to resume
Ms office*
. -5I
Pisistratus
assumes the
sovereign¬
ty-
From Egypt he went to Cyprus, where lie was ex¬
tremely well received by one of the petty kings. This
prince lived in a city called Apeia, built by Demo-
phon the son of Theseus, on an eminence near the ri¬
ver Clarius, but in a soil craggy and barren. Solon
observing a very pleasant plain below, engaged the
king to remove thither $ assisted in executing the
Scheme he had formed ; and succeeded so well, that a
new city wras formed, which soon became populous,
and out of gratitude to the Athenian legislator was
called Solos.
But while Solon was thus travelling in quest of wis¬
dom, and with a view to benefit those among whom he
came, his countrymen, who seem to have resolved on
being dissatisfied at all events, had again divided them¬
selves into three factions. Lycurgus put himself at
the head of the country people *, Megacles the son of
Alcmaeon was at the head of those who lived on the
sea coast; and Pisistratus put himself at the head of
the poorer sort, to protect them, as he pretended, from
tyranny, but in reality to seize on the sovereignty for
himself. All the factions pretended to have a vast re- '
gard for Solon and his laws, at the same time that they
were very desirous of a change j but how they were to
he bettered, none of them knew, or pretended to
know.
In the midst of this confusion the legislator returned.
Each of the factions paid their court to him, and af¬
fected to receive him with the deepest reverence and
respect j beseeching him to reassume his authority, and
compose the disorders which they themselves kept up.
This Solon declined on account of his age, which, he
said, rendered him unable to speak and act for the
good of his country as formerly j however, he sent for
the chiefs of each party, beseeching them in the most
pathetic manner not to ruin their common parent, but
to prefer the public good to their own private inte¬
rest.
Pisistratus, who of all the three had perhaps the least
intention to follow Solon’s advice, seemed to be the
most affected with his discourses •, hut as Solon perceiv¬
ed he affected popularity by all possible methods, he
easily penetrated into his designs of assuming the so¬
vereign power. This he spoke of to Pisistratus him¬
self, at first privately j but as he saw that his admoni¬
tions in this way had no effect, he then said the same
things to others, that the public might be on their
guard against him.
All the wise discourses of Solon, however, were lost
upon the Athenians. Pisistratus had got the meaner
sort entirely at his devotion, and therefore resolved to
cheat them out of the liberty which they certainly tie-
served'to lose. With this view he wounded himself,
and, as Herodotus says, the mules that drew his cha¬
riot; then he drove into the market-place, and there
showed his bleeding body, imploring the protection of
the people from those whom his kindness to them had
rendered his implacable enemies. A concourse of peo¬
ple being instantly formed, Solon came among the rest,
and suspecting the deceit, openly taxed Pisistratus with
his perfidious conduct ; but to no purpose. A general
assembly of the people was called, wherein it was mo¬
ved by one Ariston, that Pisistratus should have a guard.
Solon was the only person present who had resolution
enough to oppose this measure $ the richer Athenians,
perceiving that the multitude implicitly followed Pi-
sistratus, and applauded every thing he said, remaining - ‘
silent through fear. Solon himself, when he saw he
could prevail nothing, left the assembly, saying he was
wiser than some, and stouter than others. A guard of
400 men was now unanimously decreed to Pisistratus,
as we are told by Solon himself. This inconsiderable
body he made use of to enslave the people, hut in what
manner he accomplished his purpose is not agreed.
Certain it is, that with his guard he seized the citadel 5
but Polyaenus hath given an account of a very singular
method which he took to put it out of the power of
the Athenians to defend themselves even against such a
small number. He summoned an assembly to be held
at the Anacium, and directed that the people should
come thither armed. They accordingly came j and
Pisistratus harangued them, but in a voice so low that
they could not tell what he said. The people com¬
plaining of this, Pisistratus told them that they were
hindered from hearing him by the clangour of their
arms •, but if they would lay them down in the por¬
tico, he would then be heard distinctly. This they
did j and while they listened very attentively to a long
and eloquent oration, Pisistratus’s guard conveyed
away their arms, so that they found themselves depri-
ved of all power of resistance. During the confusion Solon
which followed this event, another assembly was held,^es
wherein Solon inveighed bitterly against the meanness* 1S’
of his countrymen, inviting them to take up arms
in defence of their liberty. When he saw that no¬
thing would do, he laid down his own arms, saying,
that he had done his utmost for his country and his
laws. According to Plutarch, he refused to quit the
city; but the most probable opinion is, that he imme¬
diately retired from the dominion of Athens, and re¬
fused to return, even at the solicitation of Pisistratus
himself. 53 1
Pisistratus having thus obtained the sovereignty, did Pis‘stratl»
not overturn the laws of Solon, but used his ppwerg“T“sa
with the greatest moderation. It is not to he expect-m0(]era.
ed, however, that so turbulent a people as the Athe-tion.
nians could be satisfied by any method of government
he could lay down. At the beginning of his admini¬
stration, Megacles and his family retired out of Athens
to save their own lives, yet without despairing of being
able some time or other to return. With this view
Megacles and his associates entered into a treaty with
Lycurgus ; and having brought him and his party into
a scheme for deposing Pisistratus, they concerted mat- ^
ters so well, that Pisistratus was soon obliged to seek priven«»“
for shelter somewhere else, and, on his departure, the by Mega-
Athenians ordered his goods to be sold. Nobody, how-cles*
ever, except one person (Callias') would venture to buy
any ol them, from an apprehension, no doubt, that they
would soon be restored to their proper owner, which ac¬
cordingly happened in a very short time. 55 ;
As Megacles and his party had negociated with Ly-Who soon
curgus to turn out Pisistratus, so they now entered into aftw ^
a treaty with Pisistratus to reinstate him in his princi-states
pality, as soon as they found Lycurgus would not be
implicitly governed by them. To accomplish this, they
fell upon a very ridiculous project 5 which, however,
was attended with the desired success. They found out
a woman whose name was Phya, of a mean family and
fortune, but of a great stature, and very handsome.
> Her
6
DrlJn out
a *iond
tim;
ATT
Her they dressed in armour, placed her in a chariot,
and having disposed things so as to make her appear
with all possible advantage, they conducted her towards
the city, sending heralds before, with orders to speak
to the people in the following terms : “ Give a kind
reception, O Athenians, to Pisistratus, who is so much
honoured by Minerva above all other men, that she
herself condescends to bring him back to the citadel.”
The report being universally spread that Minerva was
bringing home Pisistratus, and the ignorant multitude
believing this woman to be the goddess, addressed their
prayers to her, and received Pisistratus with the utmost
joy. When he had recovered the sovereignty, Pisi¬
stratus married the daughter of Megacles as he had
promised, and gave the pretended goddess to his son
Hipparchus.
Pisistratus did not long enjoy the kingdom to which
he had been restored in so strange a manner. He had
married the daughter of Megacles, as already observed j
but having children by a former wife, and remembering
that the whole family of Megacles was reprobated by
the Athenians, he thought proper to let his new spouse
remain in a state of perpetual widowhood. This she
patiently bore for some time, but at last acquainted
her mother. An affront so grievous could not fail to
be highly resented. Megacles instantly entered into a
treaty with the malecontents, of whom there were al¬
ways great plenty at Athens whatever was the form of
government. This Pisistratus being apprized of, and
perceiving a new storm gathering, he voluntarily quit¬
ted Athens, and retired to Eretria. Here having con¬
sulted with his sons, it was resolved to reduce Athens
by force. With this view he applied to several of the
Greek states, who furnished him with the troops he de-
7 sired, but the Thebans exceeded all the rest in their
butiturns liberality j and with this army he returned to Attica,
wnuu according to Herodotus, in the i ith year of his banish¬
ment. They first reduced Marathon, the inhabitants
of which had taken no measures for their defence,
though they knew that Pisistratus was preparing to at¬
tack them. The republican forces in the mean time
marched out of Athens to attack him 5 but behaving
in a secure and careless manner, they were surprised by
Pisistratus, and totally routed. While they were en¬
deavouring to make their escape, he caused his two
sons to ride before him with all speed, and tell those
they came up with that nobody had any thing to fear,
but that they might every one return to his own home.
This stratagem so effectually dispersed the republican
Irft'armJb ^,a,: was impossible to rally them, and Pisi-
c stratus became a third time absolute master of Attica.
His iib- Pisistratus being once more in possession of the sove-
ject till reignty, took a method of establishing himself on the
diicutent- throne directly opposite to what Theseus had done,
wit! ^nstead of collecting the inhabitants from the country
'“g > mo-!n^° Clties5 Pisistratus made them retire from the cities
derfl:)i). lnt° the country, in order to apply themselves to agri¬
culture. This prevented their meeting together, and
caballing against him in such bodies as they had been
accustomed to do. By this means also the territory of
Athens was greatly meliorated, and great plantations
of olives were made over all Attica, which had before
not only been destitute of corn, but also bare of trees.
He also commanded, that, in the city, men should wear
He
60
I C A.
a kind of sheep-skin vest, reaching to the knees ; but
so intolerable were the laws of Pisistratus to his sub¬
jects, that this kind of garment in succeeding times be¬
came proverbially the habit of slavery.
As prince of Athens, Pisistratus received the tenth
part of every man’s revenues, and even of the fruits of
the earth ; and this also, though for the service of the
state, seemed to the Athenians a most grievous bur¬
den. In short, though Pisistratus behaved in all re¬
spects as a most excellent prince, his subjects fancied
themselves oppressed by tyranny, and were perpetual¬
ly grumbling from the time be first ascended the
throne to the day of his death, which happened about
33 years after he had first assumed the sovereignty,
of which time, according to Aristotle, he reigned 17
years.
Pisistratus left behind him two sons named Tlippar- Hipparchus
chus and Hippias, both men of great abilities, who and Hip-
shared the government between them, and behaved with Pias‘
lenity and moderation. But though by the mildness of
their government the family of the Pisistratidse seemed
to be fully established on the throne of Athens, a con¬
spiracy was unexpectedly formed against both the bro¬
thers, by which Hipparchus was taken olf, and Hippias
narrowly escaped. The most material facts relating to
this conspiracy are what follow. 6,
There were at that time in Athens two young men, Conspiracy
called Harmodius and Aristogiton ; the former of these of Harmo-
was exquisitely beautiful in bis person, and on that c*tu.s an?
account, according to the infamous custom of the
Greeks, violently beloved of the other. This Harmo- * .
dins was also beloved of Hipparchus ; who, if W’e may
believe Thucydides, forced him. This was grievously
resented, and revenge determined on j to hasten which,
another accident concurred. Hipparchus, finding that
Harmodius endeavoured to avoid him, publicly af¬
fronted him, by not suffering his sister to carry the of¬
fering of Minerva, as if she was a person unworthy of
that office. The two young men, not daring to show
any public signs of resentment, consulted privately
with their friends ; among whom it was resolved, that
at the approaching festival of Panathenaea, when the
citizens were allowed to appear in arms, they should
attempt to restore Athens to its former liberty. In
this they imagined that they should find themselves se¬
conded by the whole body of the people. But when
the day appointed was come, they perceived one of
their number talking very familiarly with Hippias ; and g3
fearing that they were discovered, they immediately Hipparchus
fell upon Hipparchus, and despatched him with a mul-killed,
titude of wounds. In this exploit the people were so
far from seconding them, as they expected, that they
suffered Harmodius to be killed by Hipparchus’s
guards, and seizing Aristogiton themselves, delivered
him up to Hippias. Some time afterwards, however,
the respect they paid to these two young men exceeded
all bounds. They caused their praises to be sung at the The con-
PanathenEea, forbade any citizen to call a slave by either spirators
of their names, and erected brazen statues to them inextrava-
tlie forum *, which statues were afterwards carried into^^j 10
Persia by Xerxes, and sent back from thence by A-
lexander the Great, Antiocbus, or Seleucus, for au¬
thors are not agreed by which. Several immunities
and privileges were also grauted to the descendants of
these
<*3
230
Attica.
64
Cruelty of
Ilippias.
<>5
He is dri¬
ven out of
Athens;
ATT
these two patriots, and all possible means were taken to
render their memory venerable and respected by poste¬
rity.
Hippias being now sole master of Athens, and proba¬
bly exasperated by the murder of his brother, began to
alter his conduct greatly, and treat his subjects in an
oppressive and cruel manner. Heiegan with torturing
Aristogiton, in order to make him confess his accompli¬
ces : but this proved fatal to his own friends : for Aris¬
togiton impeaching such as he knew to be best affected
to Hippias, they were immediately put to death j and
when he had destroyed all those he knew, at last told
Hippias, that now he knew of none that deserved to suf¬
fer death except the tyrant himself. Hippias next vent¬
ed his rage on a woman named Lecena, who was kept
by Aristogiton. She endured the torture as long as she
could ; but finding herself unable to bear it any longer,
she at last bit off her tongue, that she might not have it
in her power to make any discovery. To her the Athe¬
nians erected the statue of a lioness, alluding to her
name, without a tongue, on which was engraved a suit¬
able inscription.
After the conspiracy was, as Hippias thought, tho¬
roughly quashed, he set himself about strengthening his
government by all the means he could think of. He
contracted leagues with foreign princes, increased his
revenues by various methods, &c. But these precau¬
tions were of little avail; the lenity of Pisistratus’s
government had alone supported it 5 and Hippias
pursuing contrary methods, was deprived of his so¬
vereignty in less than four years after the death of his
brother.
Th is revolution was likewise owing to the family of
Megacles, who were styled Alcmceonida, and had set¬
tled at Lipsydrum. In times of discontent, which at
Athens were very frequent, this family was the com¬
mon refuge of all who fled from that city *, and at last
they thought of a method of expelling the Pisistratidte
altogether. The method they took to accomplish
their purpose was as follows. The agreed with the
Amphictyons to rebuild the temple at Delphi j and
being possessed of immense riches, they performed their
engagement in a much more magnificent manner than
they were bound to do ; for having agreed only to
build the front of common stone, they built it of Parian
marble. At the same time they corrupted the pro¬
phetess Pythia, engaging her to exhort all the Lace¬
daemonians that came to consult the oracle either in
behalf of the state, or their own private affairs, to at¬
tempt the delivery of Athens. This had the desired ef¬
fect : the Lacedaemonians, surprised at hearing this ad¬
monition incessantly repeated, at last resolved to obey
the divine command, as they imagined it to be ; and
sent Anchimolius, a man of great quality, at the head
of an army, into Attica, though they were at that time
in league with Hippias, and accounted by him his
good friends and alies. Hippias demanding assistance
from the Thessalians, they readily sent him 1000 horse,
under the command of one of their princes named Si-
neas. The Lacedaemonians being landed, Hippias fell
upon them so suddenly, that he defeated them with
great slaughter, killed their general, and forced the
shattered remains of their army to fly to their ships.
The Spartans, incensed at this unfortunate expedition,
determined to send another army into Attica \ which
I C A.
they accordingly did soon after under their king Cleo- . „
menes : and lie having, at his entrance into the Athe- <
nian territories, defeated the Thessalian horse, obliged l1
Hippias to shut himself up in the city of Athens, which
he was soon after forced to abandon altogether. He
was, however, in no want of a place of refuge ; the
Thessalian princes inviting him into their country,
and the king of Macedon offering his family a city and
territory, if they choose to retire into his dominions. ^
But Hippias chose rather to go to the city of Sigeum, au^ reti[[
which Pisistratus had conquered, and left to his own to Sigeiim, ]
family.
After the expulsion of the Pisistr'&tidte, the Atheni¬
ans did not long enjoy the quiet they had proposed to
themselves. They were quickly divided into two fac-Two^
tions ; at the head of one was Clysthenes, one of the tions in
chief of the Alcmseonidae j and of the other, Isagoras, Athent,
a man of great quality, and highly in favour with the
Athenian nobility. Clysthenes applied himself to the
people, and endeavoured to gain their affection by in¬
creasing their power as much as possible. Isagoras per¬
ceiving that by this means his rival would get the bet¬
ter, applied to the Lacedaemonians for assistance, revi¬
ving at the same time the old story of Megacles’s sa¬
crilege, and insisting that Clysthenes ought to be ba¬
nished as being of the family of Megacles. Cleomenes ji,eSpa
king of Sparta readily came into his measures, and sud-tinssuppcri
denly despatched a herald to Athens with a dec]ara-bagM»
tion of war in case all the Alcmmonidae were not im¬
mediately banished. The Athenians did not hesitate
to banish their benefactor Clysthenes, and all his rela¬
tions ; but this piece of ingratitude did not answer
their purpose. Cleomenes entered Attica at the head
of a Spartan army j and, arriving at Athens, con¬
demned to banishment 700 families more than what had
been sent into exile before. Not content with this, he
would have dissolved the senate, and vested the go¬
vernment in 300 of the chief of Isagoras’s faction.
This the Athenians would by no means submit to; and
therefore took up arms, and drove Cleomenes and his
troops into the citadel, where they were besieged for
two days. On the third day Cleomenes surrendered
on condition that all those who were in the citadel
should retire unmolested. This, though agreed to, was
not performed by the Athenians. They fell upon such
as were separated from the army, and put them to
death without mercy. Among the number of those
slain on this occasion was Timesitheus the brother of
Cleomenes himself.
The Spartan king was no sooner withdrawn from.at
Athens, than he formed a strong combination in fa-out metis
vour of Isagoras. He engaged the Boeotians to at¬
tack Attica on the one side, and the Chalcidians on
the other, while he at the head of a powerful Spartan
army entered the territories of Eleusina. In this di¬
stress, the Athenians, not being able to. cope with so
many enemies at once, resolved to suffer their terri¬
tories to be ravaged by the Chalcidians and Boeo¬
tians, contenting themselves with opposing the army
commanded by Cleomenes in person. But this power¬
ful confederacy was quickly dissolved : the Corin¬
thians, who were allied with Cleomenes, doubting the
justice ol their cause, returned home j his other allies
likewise beginning to waver, and his colleague Ariston
the other king of Sparta, differing in sentiments, Cleo-
menei
A T T
menes was obliged to abandon the enterprise. The
—^—1 Spartans and their allies being withdrawn, the Athe-
70: nians took a severe revenge of the Bceotians and Chal-
cidians, totally routing their forces, and carrying off a
■ amie- great number of prisoners. The prisoners taken in this
tod., war were put in irons, but afterwards set at liberty on
paying a ransom of two minae per head. Their fetters
were, however, hung up in the citadel; and the Athe¬
nians consecrating the tenth of what they had received
for ransom, purchased a statue, representing a chariot
and four horses, which they set up in the portico of the
citadel, with a triumphant inscription in token of their
victory.
These indignities rousing the Boeotians, they imme¬
diately vowed revenge, and engaged on their side the
people of AEgina, who had an hereditary hatred at the
Athenians ; and while the latter bent all their atten¬
tion to the Boeotian war, the AEginetans landing a con-
siderable army, ravaged the coasts of Attica,
empiiof But while the Athenians were thus employed against
the Boeotians and ^Eginetans, a jealousy sprung up on
eKt- ^ie Par^ Lacedaemon, which was never afterwards
1 » eradicated. Cleomenes, after his unsuccessful expedi¬
tion against Attica, produced at Sparta certain oracles
which he said he had found in the citadel of Athens
while he was besieged therein : the purport of these
oracles was, that Athens would in time become a rival
to Sparta. At the same time it was discovered, that
Ciysthenes had bribed the priestess of Apollo to cause
the Lacedaemonians to expel the Pisistratidae from A-
thens j which was sacrificing their best friends to those
whom interest obliged to be their enemies. This had
such an effect, that the Spartans, repenting their folly
in expelling Hippias, sent for him from Sigeum, in
order to restore him to his principality : but this not
being agreed to by the rest of the states, they were
forced to abandon the enterprise, and Hippias returned
to Sigeum as he came.
se os About this time, too,- Aristagoras the Milesian ha-
war: ving set on foot a revolt in Ionia against the Persian
1 P*1' king, applied to the Spartans for assistance ; but they
declining to have any hand in the matter, he next ap¬
plied to ^he Athenians, and was by them furnished with
20 shins under the command of Melanthus, a noble¬
man universally esteemed. This rash action cost the
I Creeks very dear, as it brought upon them the whole
power of the Persian empire ; for no sooner did the
king of Persia hear of the assistance sent from Athens
to his rebellious subjects, than he declared himself the
sworn enemy of that city, and solemnly besought God
that he might one day have it in his power to be re¬
venged on them.
The Ionian war being ended, by the reduction of that
country again under the Persian government, the king
of Persia sent to demand earth and water as tokens of
submission from the Greeks. Most of the islanders
yielded to this command out of fear, and among the
rest the people of TEgina *, upon which the Athenians
accused the inhabitants of this island of treachery to¬
wards Greece, and a war was carried on with them for
a long time. How it ended we are not informed j but
its continuance was fortunate for Greece in general,
as, by inuring them to war, and sea-aflairs in particu-
lar, it prevented the whole of the Grecian states from
I C A. . 231
being swallowed up by the Persians, who were now Attica,
about to invade them. ■■
Besides the displeasure which Darius had conceived
against the Athenians on account of the assistance they
had afforded the lonians, he was further engaged to an
expedition against Greece by the intrigues of Hippias. „„
Immediately on his returning unsuccessfully from La-Hippias ap.
cedtemon, as above related, Hippias passed over intopb'es to the
Asia, went to Artaphernes, governor of the adjacent.*>ers,ans'
provinces belonging to the Persian king, and excited
him to make war upon his country, promising to be
obedient to the Persian monarch provided he was re¬
stored to the principality of Athens. Of this the A-
thenians being apprised, sent ambassadors to Arta-
phernes, desiring leave to enjoy their liberty in quiet :
but that nobleman returned for answer, that if they
would have peace with the great king, they must im¬
mediately receive Hippias ; upon which answer the
Athenians resolved to assist the enemies of Darius as
much as possible. The consequence of this resolution
was, that Darius commissioned Mardonius to revenge
him of the insults he thought the Greeks had offered
him. But Mardonius having met with a storm at sea,
and other accidents which rendered him unable to do
any thing, Datis and Artaphernes the son of Artapher¬
nes above mentioned, were commissioned to do what he
was to have done.
The Persian commanders, fearing again to attemptxheyIn¬
to double the promontory of Athos, where their fleet vade
had formerly suffered, drew their forces into the plains Greece,
of Cilicia : and passing from thence through the Cy¬
clades to F.ubcea, directed their course to Athens.
Th eir charge from Darius was to destroy both Eretria
and Athens j and to bring away the inhabitants, that 7-
they might be at his disposal. Their first attempt wasEretria dt-
on Eretria, the inhabitants of which sent to Athens stayed,
for assistance on the first approach of the Persian fleet.
The Athenians, with a magnanimity almost unparallel¬
ed at such a juncture, sent 4000 men to their assist¬
ance 5 but the Eretrians were so much divided amongst
themselves, that nothing could be resolved on. One
party among them was for receiving the Athenian suc¬
cours into the city ; another, for abandoning the city
and retiring into the mountains of Euboea ; while a
third sought to betray their country to the Persians for
their own private interest. Seeing things in this situa¬
tion, therefore, and that no good could possibly be
done, one -/Eschines, a man of great authority among
the Eretrians, generously informed the Athenian com¬
manders that they might return home. They accord¬
ingly retired to Oropus, by which means they escaped
destruction : for Eretria being soon after betrayed to
the Persians, was pillaged, burnt, and its inhabitants
sold for slaves.
On the news of this disaster the Athenians immedi¬
ately drew together all the forces they were able, which
after all amounted to no more than 9000 men. These,
with 1000 Platseans who afterwards joined them, were
commanded by ten general officers, who had equal
power $ among whom were Miltiades, Aristides, and
Themistocles, men of distinguished valour and great
abilities. But it being generally imagined that so
small a body of troops would be unable to resist the
formidable power of the Persians, a messenger was des¬
patched
232 ATT
Attica, patched to Sparta to entreat the immediate assistance of
1 v~~* that state. He communicated his business to the senate
in the following terms : “ Men of Lacedaemon, the A-
thenians desire you to assist them, and not to suffer the
most ancient of all the Grecian cities to be enslaved by
the barbarians. Eretria is already destroyed, and
Greece consequently weakened by the loss of so consi¬
derable a place.” The assistance was readily granted $
7<j but at the same time the succours arrived so slowly, that
Persiansde-the Athenians were forced to fight without them. In
feated at this memorable engagement in the plains of Marathon,
Marathon. Vvhither Hippias had conducted the Persians, the latter
were defeated with the loss of 6300 men, while the
Greeks lost only 192. The Persians being thus driven
to their ships, endeavoured to double Cape Sunium, in
order to surprise Athens itself before the army could re¬
turn : but in this they were prevented by Miltiades j
who, leaving Aristides with 1000 men to guard the
prisoners, returned so expeditiously with the other 9000,
that he was at the temple of Hercules, which was but a
small way distant, before the barbarians could attack
77 the city. >
Integrity of After the battle, Aristides discharged the trust re-
Austides. posed in him with the greatest integrity. Though there
w?as much gold and silver in the Persian camp, and
the tents and ships they had taken were filled with all
sorts of riches, he not only forbore touching any thing
himself, but to the utmost of his power prevented
others from doing it. Some, however, found means to
enrich themselves ; among the rest, one Callias, cousin-
german to Aristides himself. This man being a torch-
bearer, and, in virtue of his office, having a fillet on his
head, one of the Persians took him for a king, and, fall¬
ing down at his feet, discovered to him a vast quantity
of gold hid in a well. Callias not only seized, and ap¬
plied it to his own use, but had the cruelty to kill the
poor man who dicovered it to him, that he might not
mention it to others j by which infamous action he en¬
tailed on his posterity the name of Laccopluti, or enriched
7S by the well.
Miltiades After the battle of Marathon, all the inhabitants of
Iv treated' ^at0ea were declared free citizens of Athens, and Mil-
by the A- tia^esi Themistocles, and Aristides were treated with
thenians. possible marks of gratitude and respect. This,
however, was but very short-lived ; Miltiades proposed
an expedition against the island of Paros, in which ha¬
ving been unsuccessful, through what cause is not well
known, he was, on his return, accused and condemned
to pay 50 talents, the whole expence of the scheme ;
and, being unable to pay the debt, was thrown into
prison, where he soon died of a wound received at
79 Paros.
Aristides'56 ^ ^ thing can exceed the enormity of such a pro¬
ceeding as this, it was the treatment Aristides next re¬
ceived. Miltiades had proposed an expedition, which
had not proved successful, and in which he might pos¬
sibly have had bad designs $ but against Aristides not
so much as a shadow of guilt was pretended. On the
contrary, his extraordinary virtue had procured him the
title of Just, and he had never been found to swerve
from the maxims of equity. His downfal was occa¬
sioned by the intrigues of Themistocles ; who being a
man of great abilities, and hating Aristides on account
of the character he deservedly bore among his country-
I C A.
men, took all opportunities of insinuating, that his ri-
val had in fact made himself master of Athens without u
the parade of guards and royalty. “ He gives laws to
the people (said he) ; and what constitutes a tyrant,
but giving laws ?” In consequence of this strange ar¬
gument, a strong party was formed against the virtuous
Aristides, and it was resolved to banish him for 10
years by the ostracism. In this case, the name of the
person to be banished was written upon a shell by every
one who desired his exile, and carried to a certain
place within the forum enclosed with rails. If the num¬
ber of shells so collected exceeded 6000, the sentence
w'as inflicted; if not, it was otherwise. When the
agents of Themistocles had sufficiently accomplished
their purpose, on a sudden the people flocked to the
forum, desiring the ostracism. One of the clowns who
had come from a borough in the country, bringing a
shell to Aristides, said to him, “ Write me Aristides
upon this.” Aristides, surprised, asked him if he knew
any ill of that Athenian, or if he had ever done him
any hurt ? “ Me hurt ! (said the fellow), no, I don’t
so much as know him j but I am weary and sick at
heart on hearing him everywhere called the just." A-
ristides, thereupon, took the shell, and wrote his own
name upon it; and when informed that the ostracism
fell upon him, modestly retired out of the forum, say-
ing, “ I beseech the gods that the Athenians may never
see that day which shall force them to remember Aristi¬
des.”
After the battle of Marathon, the war with ALgina
wras revived with great vigour ; but the zEginetans
generally had the superiority, on account of their great
naval power. Themistocles observing this, was conti-The
nually exhorting his countrymen to build a fleet, notc*esl
only to make them an equal match for the Atginetans,
but also because he was of opinion that the Persians^
would soon pay them another visit. At last, he had
the boldness to propose, that the money produced by the
silver mines, which the Athenians had hitherto divided
among themselves, should be applied to the building of a
fleet : which proposal being complied with, 100 galleys
were immediately put upon the stocks ; and this sudden
increase of their maritime power proved the means of
saving all Greece from slavery.
About three years after the banishment of Aristides, Xer;
Xerxes king of Persia sent to demand earth and water :Ta(*c
but rI hemistocles desiring to make the breach with that ,ie<
monarch still wider, put to death the interpreter for
publishing the decree of the king of Persia in the lan¬
guage of the Greeks j and having prevailed upon the
several states to lay aside their animosities and provide
for their common safety, got himself elected general of
the Athenian army.
When the news arrived that the Persians were ad¬
vancing to invade Greece by the straits of Thermopy¬
lae, and that they were for this purpose transporting
their forces by sea, Themistocles advised his country¬
men to quit the city, embark on board their galleys,
and meet their enemies while yet at a distance. -This
they would by no means comply with ; for which reason
Themistocles put himself at the head of the army, and
having joined the Lacedaemonians, marched towards
Tempe. Here, having received advice that the straits
of Thermopylae were forced, and that both Boeotia and
Thessaly
ICS,
0.
iiC!
J.
A T T I
Thessaly had submitted to the Persians, the army re-
 turned without doing any thing.
In this distress the Athenians applied to the oracle
at Delphi: from whence they received at first a very
severe answer, threatening them with total destruction 5
but after much humiliation, a more favourable one was
delivered, in which, probably by the direction of The-
mistocles, they were promised safety in walls of wood.
This was by Themistocles and the greatest part of the
5 citizens interpreted as a command to abandon Athens,
[heart- and put all their hopes of safety in their fleet. Upon
this, the opinion of Themistocles prevailing, the great-
lu"est part began to prepare for this embarkation; and
had money distributed among them by the council of
the Areopagus, to the amount of eight drachms per
man : but this not proving sufficient, Themistocles
gave out that somebody had stolen the shield of Mi¬
nerva ; under pretence of searching for which, he
seized on all the money he could find. Some, how¬
ever, there were who refused to embark with the rest,
but raised to themselves fortifications of wood ; under¬
standing the oracle in its literal sense, and resolving
to wait the arrival of the Persians, and defend them¬
selves to the last. In the mean time Aristides was re¬
called, when the Athenians saw it their interest, lest
he should have gone over to the Persians and assisted
8 them with his advice.
iilu The Persians having advanced to Athens soon after
- the inhabitants had deserted it, met with no opposition
ns except from a few just now mentioned ; who, as they
8. would hearken to no terms of accommodation, were all
ie.v cut in pieces, and the city utterly destroyed. Xerxes,
however, being defeated in a sea fight at Salamis, was
|anu forced to fly with prodigious loss. See Salamis. The-
mistocles was for pursuing him, and breaking down
the bridge he had cast over the Hellespont; but this
advice being rejected, he sent a trusty messenger to
Xerxes, acquainting him that the Greeks intended to
break down his bridge, and therefore desired him to
make all the haste he could, lest by that means he
should be shut up in Europe. According to Herodo¬
tus, he also advised the Athenians to quit the pursuit
and return home, in order to rebuild their ruined houses.
This advice, though misinterpreted by some, was cer¬
tainly a very prudent one, as Xerxes, though once de¬
feated, was still at the head of an army capable of de-
stroying all Greece ; and had he been driven to despair
by finding himself shut up or warmly pursued, it was
impossible to say what might have been the event. Af¬
ter this, Themistocles formed a scheme for the aggran¬
disement of Athens indeed, but a most unjust and in-
ianious one. It was, in short, to make Athens mistress
of the sea, by burning all the ships except those belong¬
ing to that republic. He told his countrymen, that he
had something to propose of great consequence, but
ivluch could not be spoken publicly : whereupon he
'vas desired to communicate it to Aristides, by whom
the proposal was rejected; and Aristides having in-
ormed the Athenians that what Themistocles had said
was very advantageous but very unjust, they desired
him to think no more of it.
85
lio- 1 the fleet returned to Salamis, extraordinary
ed mnours were paid to Themistocles by the Lacedaemo-
Lm mans. On his entering that city, they decreed him a
lc“i >. Wreath of olives as the prize of prudence; presented him
Vol. III. Part I. f
85
C A.
with the most magnificent chariot in Sparta : and when
he returned to Athens, he was escorted by 500 horse,
an honour never paid to any stranger but himself. On
his arrival at A thens, however, there were not want¬
ing some who insinuated that the receiving such honours
from the Lacedaemonians was injurious to the republic ;
but Themistocles, confiding in his innocence, treated
these clamours with contempt, and exhorted his coun¬
trymen to entertain no doubts of their allies, but ra¬
ther endeavour to preserve the great reputation they
had acquired throughout all Greece.
The defeat ol Xerxes at Salamis made Mardonius,
who was left to carry on the war by land, more ready
to treat with the Athenians than to fight them ; and
with this view he sent Alexander king of Macedon to
Athens to make proposals of alliance with that repub¬
lic, exclusively of all the other Grecian states. This
proposal, however, was rejected ; and the consequence Athens a
was, that Athens was a second time destroyed, thesecoIul tune
Spartans sending assistance so slowly, that the Athenians destg0yed‘
were forced to retire to Salamis ; but they were soon 'p}je per_
freed from all apprehensions by the total defeat and sians de¬
death of Mardonius at Plataea; where Aristides, andfeated at
the body of troops under his command, distinguished Fiata3,a and
themselves in a most extraordinary manner.
The same day that the battle of Platgea was fought,
the Persians were defeated in a sea-fight at Mycale in
Ionia, wherein it was allowed that the Athenians who
were there behaved better than any of the other Greeks ;
but when it was proposed to transport the lonians into
Europe, that they might be in perfect safety, and give
them the territories of such Grecian states as had sided
with the Persians, the Athenians refused to comply,
fearing the lonians would rival them in trade, or refuse
the obedience they used to pay them ; besides which,
they would then lose the opportunity of plundering the
Persians in case of any quarrel with Ionia. Before they
returned home, however, the Athenians crossed over to
the Chersonesus, and besieged Sestos. The siege was sg
long and troublesome : but at last the garrison, being Sestos ta-
pressed with hunger, and having no hopes of relief, ken by the
divided themselves into two bodies, and endeavoured to Athenians,
make their escape ; but were pursued, and all either
killed or taken. Oibazus, one of their commanders,
was sacrificed to a Thracian god ; and the other, call¬
ed Artyactes, impaled alive, and his son stoned before
his face, because he had rifled the sepulchre of Prote-
silaus. < _ 89
After the victories at Platsea and Mycale, the Athe-They re¬
mans returned without any apprehension, and began to kydd their
rebuild their city in a more magnificent manner thancity*
before. Here they were no sooner arrived than a dis¬
pute was ready to be commenced about the form of
government. The commons, with Themistocles at
their head, were for a democracy ; to which Aristides,
rather than hazard the raising disturbances, consented.
It was therefore proposed, that every citizen should
have an equal right to the government; and that the
archons should be chosen out of the body of the people,
without preference or distinction: and this proposal
being agreed to, put an end to all discontents for the
present.
At this time also Themistocles proposed that the city
of Athens should be fortified in the best manner pos¬
sible, that it might not be liable to be again destroyed,
G g when
234 ATT
Attica when the Persians should take it into their heads to
'——v ’ 1 invade Greece. At this proposal the Lacedaemonians
were exceedingly alarmed 5 and therefore remonstrated,
Tlit mis to t^a*' s^ou^ Athens once be strongly fortified, and the
cles advises ^’ers*ans become possessed of it, it would be impossible
to fortify to get them out of it again. At last, seeing these ar-
Athens, guments had no effect, they absolutely forbade the A-
oeiveifthe ^len*aiis to carry their walls any higher. This com-
Spaitans man^ gave great offence but Themistocles, considering
who oppose the power of Sparta at that time, advised the Athenians
it. to temporize j and to assure the ambassadors that they
should proceed no farther in their work, till, by an em¬
bassy of their own, satisfaction should be given to their
allies. Being named ambassador at his own desire to
Sparta, with some other Athenians, Themistocles set out
alone, telling the senate that it would be for the interest
of the state to delay sending the other ambassadors as
long as possible. When arrived at Sparta, he put oft
from time to time receiving an audience, on account of
his colleagues not being arrived : but in the mean time
the walls of Athens were building with the utmost ex¬
pedition 5 neither houses nor sepulchres being spared
for materials ; and men, women, children, strangers,
citizens, and servants, working without intermission.
Of this the Lacedaemonians having notice, and the rest
of the Athenian ambassadors being arrived, Themi¬
stocles and his colleagues were summoned before the
ephori, who immediately began to exclaim against the
Athenians for their breach of promise. Themistocles
denied the charge : he said his colleagues assured him
of the contrary : that it did not become a great state
lo give heed to vague repoi’ts, but that deputies ought
to be sent from Sparta to inquire into the truth of the
matter, and that he himself would remain as a hostage,
to be answerable for the event. This being agreed to,
he engaged his associates to advise the Athenians to
commit the Spartan ambassadors to safe custody till he
should be released 5 after which he publicly avowed the
whole transaction, took the scheme upon himself, and
told the Lacedaemonians that “ all things are lawful for
our country.” The Spartans, seeing no remedy, con¬
cealed their resentment, and sent Themistocles home in
9i sa^y-
Makes the The next year, being the last of the 75th Olympiad,
Pyraeus the Themistocles observing the inconvenience of the port
poi t of Phalerum, thought of making the Pyraius the port of
Athens. This he did not at first think proper to men¬
tion publicly ; but having signified to the people that
he had something of importance to communicate, they
appointed Xanthippus and Aristides to judge of his
proposal. They readily came into his measures, and
told the people that what Themistocles proposed would
be of the utmost advantage to the state, at the same
time that it might be performed with ease. Upon this
they Were desired to lay the matter before the senate 5
who coming unanimously into their measures, ambassa¬
dors were depatched to Sparta to insinuate there how
proper it would be for the Greeks to have some great
port, where a fleet might always watch the designs of
the Persians; and thus having prevented any umbrage
from their first undertakings, the work was set about
with such expedition, that it was finished before the La¬
cedaemonians knew well what they were about.
At this time also the sovereignty of the sea was
transferred from Sparta to Athens, through the haugh-
Athens.
I C A.
ty behaviour of Pausanias the Lacedaemonian. He ^
had commanded at Plataea, and still enjoyed the su- -
preme authority in the war which was all this time
carrying on against the Persians ; but being elated with^0Vfl f-
his success at Plataea, and having entered into a trea-^
sonable correspondence with the enemy, he treated theferrei
captains under his command with the greatest haugh-Alhe
tiness, giving the preference to the Spartans in such a
manner that the rest of the Greeks could no longer bear
his insolence. On the contrary, Aristides, and Cimon
the son of Milthades, who commanded the Athenians,
by their obliging behaviour gained the favour of every
body $ so that the allies, having publicly affronted Pan•
sanias, put themselves under the protection of the A-
thenian republic ; and thenceforward the Athenians,
and not the Lacedaemonians, had the supreme com¬
mand.
The Greeks being now sensible that they would al-^r;stj
ways have occasion to be on their guard against the taxes
Persians, and that it was necessary to establish a fundG)ee'
by a common taxation of all the states, Aristides
pitched upon as the only person that could be trusted^
with the power of allotting to each of the states its
proper quota. This difficult task he undertook, and
executed in a manner unparalleled in the annals of hi¬
story. All parties were pleased, and his taxation was
styled the happy lot of Greece. The gross amount of it
was 450 talents. ■
It now came to the turn of Themistocles to experi-Theni
ence the ingratitude of his countrymen. His servicesclesb
had been so essential, that the treatment he received^
may perhaps be a sufficient excuse for modern patriots
when they connect their own interest with the service
of their country. Themistocles had plainly saved the
state from ruin by his advice j he had distinguished him¬
self by his valour ; had rendered Athens, by his policy,
superior to the other states of Greece $ and entirely
subverted the Lacedaemonian scheme of power. Yet,
notwithstanding all this, he was banished by the ostra¬
cism, without the smallest crime pretended, unless that
he was hated by the Lacedaemonians, and that he had
erected a temple, near his own house, dedicated to
Diana, the giver of the best counsel; intimating that he
himself had given the best counsel for the safety both
of Athens and of all Greece, which was no more than
the truth. Nay, he was not only driven out of Athens,
but out of all Greece ; so that he was forced to seek
shelter from the king of Persia, against whom he had
fought with so much valour. That monarch gave him
a gracious reception } and he was never recalled, be¬
cause the Greeks had no occasion for his services. $
The war with Persia was not yet discontinued ; thesmee
Greeks found their advantage in plundering and en-Cinf
riching themselves with the spoils of the kingofPer-®U
sia’s subjects. For this reason, in the end of the 77^
Olympiad, they equipped a navy, under a pretence of
relieving such of the Greek cities in Asia as were sub¬
ject to the Persians. Of this fleet Cimon, the son of
Miltiades by the daughter of the king of Thrace, was
appointed commander in chief. He had already tasted
the justice and generosity of his countrymen, having
been thrown into prison for his father’s fine, from which
he was released by Callias, whom his sister Elpinice
married on account of his great wealth procured by n°
very honourable means. He accepted of the command,
however,
9*1
sullies
Cli iio-
US. :
h
however, and gained such immense booty in this expe¬
dition, that the Athenians were thereby enabled to lay
the foundation of those long-extended walls which united
the port to the city. The foundation was laid in a
moorish ground j so that they were forced to sink it
very deep, and at a great expence j but to this Cimon
himself contributed out of his own share of the spoils,
which was very considerable. He also adorned the fo¬
rum with palm trees, and beautified the academy with
delightful walks and fountains.
The Persians having soon after this expedition invaded
the Chersonesus, and with the assistance of the Thracians
made themselves masters of it, Cimon was sent against
them in a great hurry. He had only four ships 5 but
nevertheless with these he took 13 of the Persian gal¬
leys, and reduced the whole of the Chersonesus. After
this he marched against the Thracians, who revolting
against the Athenians, had made themselves masters
of the gold mines lying between the rivers Nyssus and
Strymon. The Thracians were quickly obliged to
yield ; after which the Athenians sent a great colony to
Amphipolis, a city of Thrace, which for some time made
a considerable figure, but afterwards attempting to pene¬
trate into the country of the Edones, great part of them
were destroyed.
Cimon also fell upon the following expedient to
make Athens irresistible at sea by the other states of
Greece. Many of the Greek states, by virtue of A-
ristides’s taxation, were bound to furnish men and gal¬
leys as well as to pay the tax for their support. But
when they saw themselves out of danger from the Per¬
sians, most of them were very unwilling to furnish their
quota of men. This the Athenian generals being of¬
fended with, were for having recourse to force ; but
Cimon permitted such as were desirous of staying at
home to do so, and accepted a sum of money in lieu
of a galley completely manned. By this means he in¬
ured the Athenians, whom he took on board his galleys,
to hardship and discipline ; while the allies who re¬
mained at home became enervated through idleness,
and from being confederates, dwindled into tributaries,
and almost slaves. In the last year of the 77th Olym¬
piad, Cimon was sent to assist the Lacedaemonians
against their Helotes, who had revolted from them. In
this he was attended with his usual success $ but, some
time after, the Lacedaemonians being engaged in the
siege of Itnome, sent again to the Athenians for succour,
and Cimon was a second time sent to their relief; but
the Spartans having received a sufficient support of
troops from other quarters before the arrival of the A-
1 Ionian general, he and his men were dismissed withoilt
doing any thing. This grievously offended the people
of Athens, who thenceforward hated not only the La-
c.e ^'jwnians, hut all their own citizens wlio were
thought to be friends to that state.
It was not possible, however, that any person who
m served the state should escape banishment at A-
thens. Cimon had gained great wealth both to the
pu 1 ic and to himself. In his public character he had
e aved with unimpeached honesty, and as a private
citizen he dedicated his wealth to the most excellent
purposes. He demolished the enclosures about his
grounds and gardens, permitting every one to enter
M 1 f , 'vlliU ^ru^.s tliey P'eaSf,d ; he kept an open
,a e? vv‘ieie both rich and poor were plentifully en-
cr atned. If he met a citizen in a tattered suit of
ATTICA.
235
clothes, he made some of his attendants exchange with Attica,
him j or if the quality of the person rendered that ,J“"“
kindness unsuitable, he caused a sum of money to be
privately given iiim. All this, however, was not suf¬
ficient : he did not concur with every measure of the
commonalty j and therefore the popular party deter¬
mined not to banish him, but to put him to death.
1 he crime laid to his charge was, that by presents from
the Macedonians he was prevailed upon to let slip a
manifest opportunity of enlarging his conquests, after-
taking from the Persians the gold mines of Thrace.
To this accusation Cimon replied, that to the utmost
of his power he had prosecuted the war against the
Thracians, and other enemies of the state of Athens;
but that, it was true, he had not made any inroads into
Macedonia, because he did not imagine he was to act
as a public enemy of mankind, and because he was
struck with respect for a nation modest in their car¬
riage, just in their dealings, and strictly honourable in
their behaviour towards him and the Athenians : that
if his countrymen looked upon this as a crime, he
must abide their judgment; but, for his part, be could
never be brought to think such conduct amiss. Elpi-
nice, Cimon’s sister, used all her interest in his behalf,
and amongst others spoke to Pericles the celebrated
statesman and orator. He was indeed Cimon’s rival,
and had no doubt assisted in stirring up the prosecution
against him; but he did not desire his death; and there¬
fore, though appointed to accuse him, Pericles spoke
in such a manner that it plainly appeared he did not
think him guilty ; and, in consequence of this lenity,
Cimon was only banished by the ostracism.
The Athenian power was now risen to such a height,
that all the other states of Peloponnesus looked upon
this republic with a jealous eye, and were continually
watching every opportunity of making war upon it
when the state was engaged in troublesome affairs, and
seemed to be less able to resist. These attempts, how¬
ever, so far from lessening, generally contributed to in¬
crease, the power of the xlthenians ; but in the year
before Christ 458, the republic entered into a Avar with warbe-
Sparta, which was scarcely put an end to but by the de- tween A-
struction of the city of Athens. For this war, there thens and
was no recent provocation on the part of the Spartans. Sp*11*8,
They had sent a great army to assist the Dorians against
the Phocians, and the Athenians took this opportunity
to revenge themselves of former quarrels. Having
therefore drawn in the Argives and Thessalians to be
their confederates, they posted themselves on the isth¬
mus, so that the Spartan army could not return with¬
out engaging them. The Athenians and their con¬
federates amounted to 14,000, and the Spartans tb
11,500. The Spartan general, however, not very will¬
ing to hazard a battle, turned aside to Tanagra, a city
in Boeotia, where some of the Athenians who inclined
to aristocracy entered into a correspondence with him. / &
But before their designs were ripe for execution, the Athenians
Athenian army marched with great expedition to Ta-defeated,
nagra, so that a battle became inevitable. When the
armies were drawn up in order of battle, Cimon pre¬
sented himself befort? his countrymen in complete ar¬
mour, and went to take post among those of his own
tribe ; but the popular party raised such a clamour
against him, that he was forced to retire. Before he
departed, hotvever, he exhorted Euthippus and the rest
of his friends to beha\Te in such a manner that they
G g 2 might
236
ATTICA.
Attica.
They gain
great ad¬
vantages
over the
Spartans.
102
Cimon re¬
called.
*33
His death.
might wipe off1 the aspersion thrown upon him, as if he
J had designed to betray his country’s cause to the La¬
cedaemonians. Euthippus desired him to leave his ar¬
mour, which he did ; and a battle ensuing, the Atheni¬
ans were defeated with great loss, and Euthippus with
the rest of Cimon’s friends were all killed in defence
of his armour which they had surrounded. Another
engagement soon followed, wherein both armies suffer¬
ed so much, that they were glad to conclude a short
truce, that each might have time to recruit their shat¬
tered forces.
The scale of fortune now seemed to turn in favour
of the Athenians. The Thebans, who had been de¬
prived of the command of Bosotia on account of their
having sided with Xerxes, were now restored to it by
the LacedEemonians. At this the Athenians were so
displeased, that they sent an army under Myronides the
son of Callias into Boeotia to overturn all that had been
done. That general was met by the Thebans and their
allies^ who composed a numerous and well-disciplined
army. Nevertheless, though the Athenian army was
but a handful in comparison of their enemies, Myroni¬
des gained a complete victory over the allies, in some
sense more glorious than either that of Marathon or
Plataea. In these battles they had fought against effe¬
minate and ill-disciplined Persians, but now they en¬
countered and defeated a superior army composed of
the bravest Greeks. After this victory, Myronides
marched to Tanagra, which he took by storm, and ra¬
zed to the ground : he then plundered Boeotia ; defeated
another army which the Boeotians had drawn together
to oppose him j then fell upon the Locrians ; and ha¬
ving penetrated into Thessaly, chastised the inhabitants
of that country for having^revolted from the Atheni¬
ans ; and from thence returned to Athens laden with
riches and glory.
The next year Tolmides the Athenian admiral in¬
vaded Laconia, where he made himself master of seve¬
ral places $ and on the back of this, Pericles invaded
Peloponnesus with great success, burning, spoiling, or
taking, whatever places he attempted. On his return
he found the people greatly out of humour on account
of Cimon’s banishment j so he was immediately re¬
called.
Cimon was no sooner returned than he fell to his old
employment of plundering the Persians ; and, accord¬
ing to Plutarch, he had now nothing less in view than
the conquest of the whole Persian empire. The Per¬
sian monarch finding he could have no rest, at last sent
orders to Artabazus and Megabizus, his commanders,
to conclude a treaty •, which was done on the following
conditions : 1. That the Greek cities in Asia should be
free, and governed by their own laws. 2. That the Per¬
sians should send no army within three days journey of
the sea. 3. That no Persian ship of war should sail be¬
tween Thesalis and Cyrene, the former a city of Pam-
phylia, and the latter of Lycia.
While this treaty was going on, Cimon died, whe¬
ther of sickness or of a wound he had received is not
known j and after his death the Athenian affairs be¬
gan to fall into confusion. It was now the misfortune
of this state to be alike hated by her enemies and allies ;
the consequence of which was, that the latter were per¬
petually revolting whenever they thought they had an
opportunity of doing so with impunity. The Mega-
2
rians, at this time, who had been long under the pro- au l
tection or dominion of Athens, thought proper for'
some reason or other to disclaim all dependence on
their former protectors, and have recourse to Sparta,
with which state they entered into a strict alliance.
This the Athenians revenged by ravaging the country
of the Megarians; which soon brought on a renewal
of the Lacedaemonian war that had been for a little
time suspended. Pericles, however, procured the return
of the first Lacedaemonian army, without bloodshed, by
bribing Chandrides the young king of Sparta’s tutor.
In the winter, Tolmides resolved to undertake an expe¬
dition into Bceotia with a small body of troops : which
design he put in execution contrary to the advice of
Pericles 5 and his rashness was soon punished by his own
death and the total defeat of his army. Notwithstand- ic
ing this misfortune, however, Pericles soon after inva-A ddr
ded and reduced Euboea ; and the LacedEemonians,^^ lc*
finding it was not for their interest to carry on the£,acecm
war, concluded a truce with the Athenians for 30nians.
years.
About this time Psammiticus, king of Egypt, sent
by way of present to the people of Athens 40,000
bushels of wheat; which proved a great misfortune to
the city: for Pericles, out of spite to Cimon, who had(;rueiJn
children by an Arcadian woman, bad preferred a lawperjci
whereby the Athenians of the half blood were disfran¬
chised 5 and this law, on account of the distribution of
the corn above mentioned, was prosecuted with such
severity, that no less than 5000 persons, who till then
had been considered as free men, were sold for slaves. y,inih. f
This piece of cruelty has been of great service to the^g •
critics, as by means of it we know exactly the numberniam .
of Athenian citizens, which at this time amounted tozens‘
no more than 14,040 persons, though Athens was
now aiming at no less than erecting an universal mo¬
narchy.
Six years after the conclusion of the peace between
Athens and Sparta, a war broke out between the Sa¬
mians and Milesians about the city of Priene, seated
under Mount Mycale in Ionia. How this war came to
affect the Athenians is not certainly known j but, some¬
how or other, this republic was induced to take the part
of the Milesians j and the island of Samos was reduced
by Pericles, who established there a democracy, and
left an Athenian garrison. He was no sooner gone, I07
however, than the Samians disliking their new form
of government, drove out the garrison he had left; butperjc]
Pericles quickly returning, besieged and took their ci¬
ty, demolished their walls, and fined them of the whole
expence of the war ; part of which he obliged them to
pay down, and took hostages for the remainder. When
Pericles returned, he procured himself to be appointed
to pronounce the public oration in honour of those who
fell: which he did with such eloquence, that when he
came down from the pulpit the women gathered about
him, took him by the hand, and crowned him with
garlands. ^
A little after this commenced the war between the War t
Corcyrians and Corinthians, which by degrees brought tween"
the Athenians into those engagements that proved the
ruin of their state. The causes of this war were thean
following. An intestine war breaking out in the little
territory of Epidamnum, a city of Macedonia, found¬
ed by the Corcyrians, one party called in to their as¬
sistance
tliiaHs*
Attic a.
109
Athens
sides with
the Corey-
rians.
no
’otid*a be.
^ed by
Athe-
“aiis.
ATT
sistance the Illyrians, and the other the Coreyrlans.
■> The latter neglecting the matter, Corinth was applied
to, as the Corcyrians were a colony from that place.
The Corinthians, partly out of pity to the Epitlam-
nians, and partly out of spleen to the Corcyrians, sent
a very great fleet to the assistance of the former, by
which means that party which had applied to Corinth
was thoroughly established. This being resented by
the Corcyrians, they sent a fleet to Epidamnum to sup¬
port the exiles •, and accordingly this fleet began to
act offensively on its entering the port, the chief com¬
manders having instructions to propose terms of accom¬
modation, to which the Corinthians would by no means
agree. The next year the Corcyrians defeated at sea
the Corinthians and their allies, and took Epidamnum
by storm j after which they wasted the territories of
the allies of the Corinthians, which greatly exasperated
the latter, At Corinth, therefore, they began to make
great preparations for carrying on the war, and pressed
their confederates to do the same, that they might be in
a condition to retrieve the honour they had lost, and
humble this ungrateful colony which had thus insulted
her mother city.
The Corcyrians were no sooner acquainted with
these proceedings, than they despatched ambassadors to
Athens with their complaints j and these were quickly
followed by others from Corinth on the same errand.
At first the people of Athens inclined to favour the
Corinthians : but they soon changed their minds, and
took part with the Corcyrians : they contented them¬
selves, however, with entering into a defensive alliance
with that little state, whereby they promised to assist
each other, in case either party should be attacked } and
in consequence of this treaty, they furnished the Corcy¬
rians with ten galleys, under Lacedsemonius the son of
Cimon, with whom were joined Diotenes and Proteus
as colleagues.
As soon as the season of the year permitted, the
Corinthians sailed for the coast of Corcyra with a fleet
of 150 ships, under the command of Xenoclides, as¬
sisted by four other Corinthian admirals j each squa¬
dron of their allies being commanded by a chief of
their own. The Corcyrian and Athenian fleet amount¬
ed to 120, but the Athenians had orders to give as
little assistance as possible. The action was very brisk
for some time : the Corcyrian right wing broke the
left of the Corinthian fleet; and forcing some of the
ships on shore, landed, pillaged their camp, and made
a great number of them prisoners ; on the other hand,
the Corinthian ships in the right wing beat the Cor¬
cyrian ships there, they being but very faintly assisted
by the Athenians, till the latter were at last obliged to
defend themselves, which they did so well, that the
Corinthians were glad to retire. The next day pre¬
parations were made on both sides for another engage¬
ment ; but 20 ships coming from Athens to the assist¬
ance of the Corcyrians ; the Corinthians declined the
combat.
. As soon as the Corcyrian war broke out, the Athe¬
nians sent orders to the citizens of Potidsea to demolish
a part of their wall, to send back the magistrates they
had received from Corinth, and to give hostages for
their own behaviour. Potidsea was a town in Mace¬
donia, founded by the Corinthians, but at that time
m alliance with the Athenians.—Perdiccas king of
I C A. 237
Macedon, who hated the Athenians, took this oppor- Attica,
tunity to persuade the Potidseans to revolt. Accor- '—-v——
dingly they sent ambassadors to Athens to entreat the
revocation of these orders ; but at the same time sent
deputies to Sparta, to join with the Corinthians and
Megarians in their complaints against the Athenians.
The Athenians upon this sent a considerable fleet
against Potidaea, under the command of Callias, a no¬
bleman of great courage. The Corinthians on their
part despatched one Aristeus with a considerable body
of troops to the assistance of that city. An engage¬
ment following, the Athenians were victors, but with
the loss of their general. Phormio, who succeeded in
the command, invested the city in form, and shut up
its port with his fleet; but the Potidseans dreading to
fall into the hands of the Athenians, made a most ob¬
stinate defence, while in the mean time they warmly
solicited the Corinthians to perform their promises, and
engage the rest of the states of Peloponnesus in their
quarrel. Iir
The Lacedaemonians having heard what the Corin- The Spar-
thians and other little states of Greece had to say tans de-
against the Athenians, sent ambassadors to the latter,
demanding reparation for the injuries, with orders, in ^eTnjtu-ies
case of a refusal, to declare war. The terms demand- offered to
ed were, in the first place, the expulsion of those A-the states of
thenians who were allied to the family of Megacles so Greece,
often mentioned. This article was on account of Pe¬
ricles ; for he was the son of Xanthippus the Athenian
commander at Mycale by Agariste niece to the famous
Clysthenes, who corrupted the priestess of Apollo in
order to procure the expulsion of the Pisistratidae.
They next insisted that the siege of Potidsea should be
raised ; thirdly, that the inhabitants of ^Egina should
be left free; and lastly, that a decree made against the
Megarians, whereby they were forbid the ports and
markets of Athens, should be revoked, and all the
Grecian states under the dominion of Athens set at
Hberty. . .112
These terms the Athenians were persuaded by Peri-Their terms
cles to reject. The arguments used by him were in sub-rejected by
stance as follows : That whatever the Lacedaemonians al*v?ce °'f
might pretend as to the injustice of the complaints of the *’cac*€S’
allies, the true ground of this resentment was the pro¬
sperity of the Athenian republic, which the Spartans
always hated, and now sought an opportunity of hum¬
bling : that it must be owing to the Athenians them¬
selves if this design succeeded, because for many rea¬
sons Athens was better able to engage in a long and
expensive war than the Peloponnesians. He then laid
before the people an exact account of their circum¬
stances ; putting them in mind, that the treasure
brought from Delos amounted to 10,000 talents ; and
that though 4000 of these had been expended on the
stately gate of their citadel, yet that 6000 were still in
hand ; that they were also entitled to the subsidies
paid by the confederate states ; that the statues of their
gods, the Persian spoils, &c. were worth immense
sums; that private men were arrived at vast fortunes;
and that, considering their trade by sea, they had a
certain annual increase of wealth ; that they had on
foot an army of 12,000 men, and in their colonies and
garrisons 17,000 ; that their fleet consisted of 300 sail;
whereas the Peloponnesians had no such advantages.
For these reasons he proposed as the most feasible and
likewise •
238
ATT
Attica.
II3
Attempt of
the The¬
bans on
Plataea.
1x4
They are
massacred,
“S
Account of
the allies |
on both
sides.
likewise the most equitable satisfaction that could be
given, that they would reverse their decree against Me-
gara, if the Lacedaemonians would allow free egress
and regress in their city to the Athenians and their al¬
lies 5 that they would leave all those states free who
were free at the making of the last peace with Sparta,
provided the Spartans would also leave all states free
who were under their dominion ; and that future dis¬
putes should be submitted to arbitration. In case these
offers should be rejected, he advised them to hazard a
war; telling them, that they should not think they ran
that hazard for a trifle, or retain a scruple in their
minds as if a small matter moved them to it, because on
this small matter depended their safety, and the reputa¬
tion of their constancy and resolution ; whereas, if they
yielded in this, the next demand of the Lacedaemonians
would be of a higher nature ; for having once discover¬
ed that the Athenians were subject to fear, they would
thence conclude that nothing could be denied to Spar¬
ta ; whereas a stiff denial in this case would teach them
to treat Athens for the future on terms of equality. He
enforced these reasons by showing that their ancestors
had always acted on the like principles, and in all cases
preferred their glory to their ease, and their liberty to
their possessions.
This was the origin of the Peloponnesian war, which
makes so great a figure in ancient history. The im¬
mediate preliminary to general hostilities was an at¬
tempt of the Thebans to surprise Platsea. With this
view they sent Eurymachus with 300 Thebans to assist
such of the Plataeans as they had drawn over to their
interest, in making themselves masters of the place.
In this design, they succeeded very well at first, the
Plataeans, who had promised to open the gates, keeping
their words exactly, so that they were instantly in pos¬
session of the city. The other party, however, per¬
ceiving how small a number they had to contend with,
unanimously rose upon them, killed a great many,
and forced the rest to surrender themselves prisoners
of war. Another party came from Thebes to assist
their countrymen ; but they arrived too late : the Pla-
taeans, however, foreseeing that they would waste their
country, promised to release their prisoners if they
would forbear to spoil their lands. On this the The¬
bans withdrew ; and the Plataeans cruelly put to death
all their prisoners, to the number of 180, with Eury¬
machus their chief, alleging that they had not pro¬
mised their release but in case of peace. The Athe¬
nians, as soon as they had notice of this attempt of
the Thebans, caused all the Boeotians in their terri¬
tory to be arrested ; and when they understood how
the Platseans had delivered themselves, they sent a
great convoy of provisions to that city, and a numerous
body of troops to escort their wives and children to
Athens.
Both parties now prepared in earnest for war, both
sent ambassadors to the Persians, and both sought to
rouse them allies. Most of the Greek states inclined to
favour the Spartans, because they acted on this occa¬
sion as the deliverers of Greece, and because they either
had been, or feared that they would be, oppressed by
the Athenians. With the Spartans joined all the Pe¬
loponnesians, except the Argives and pait of the A-
chseans ; without Peloponnesus, the Megarians, Pho-
cians, Locrians, Boeotians, Ambraciots, Leucadians,
I C A.
and Anactorians, declared themselves on their side. On
the other hand, the Chians, Lesbians, Plateeans, Messe-y
nians, Acarnanians, Corcyrians, Zacynthians, Carians,
Dorians, Thracians, most part of the islands, and all
the Cyclades excepting Melos and Thera, with Euboea
and Samos, joined the Athenians. g.
The Peloponnesian war commenced 431 years before First mi
Christ. The Lacedaemonian army was assembled at the°ftliear
isthmus, and consisted of no less than 60,OOO men ; but
before Archidamus king of Sparta, who commanded in
chief, would enter Attica, he despatched a herald to
Athens. The herald was sent back without any an¬
swer, by which all hopes of peace were cut off. As
Archidamus was a friend to Pericles, the latter appre¬
hended that he might forbear plundering his estates.
With this he immediately acquainted the people ; tell¬
ing them at the same time, that in such a case he made
a present of his lands to the public. He then advised
the citizens to take no care of defending their country-
seats, but to attend only to the city, busy themselves in
the equipping of ships, and settle a thorough resolution
not to be intimidated with the first evils of war. This
proposal the Athenians readily complied with, and ap¬
pointed Pericles commander in chief, with nine more
generals to assist him.
The first year, the Spartan army committed great
ravages in Attica, Pericles having no force capable of
opposing it, and refusing to engage on disadvantageous
terms, notwithstanding prodigious clamours were raised
against him by his countrymen. The allies, however,
had no great reason to boast of the advantages they
gained this year: an Athenian fleet ravaged the coasts
of Peloponnesus ; another infested the Locrians, drove
out the inhabitants of .ZEgina, and repeopled the island
from Athens. They likewise reduced Cephalenia, and
some towns in Acarnania and Leucas which had decla¬
red for the Lacedsemonians ; and in the autumn, when
the Peloponnesians were retired, Pericles entering the
Megarian territory, did all the mischief that could be
expected from a provoked enemy. „
The spring of the second year was very fatal to A- Secon
thens, by a dreadful plague which destroyed great num-year.
bers of the citizens, while the Peloponnesians under<lieat^
Archidamus wasted every thing abroad. In the midst ^t^en
of these distresses, however, Pericles retained his cou¬
rage, and would suffer none of his countrymen to stir
without the city either to escape the plague or infest
the enemy. He caused a great fleet to be equipped,
on board which he embarked 4000 foot and 300 horse,
with which he sailed to Epidaurus. Upon this the
enemy withdrew their forces out of Attica ; but Peri¬
cles was able to do no great matter on account of the
plague, which made so great havock among his men,
that he brought back to Athens only 1500 of the 4000 tI
he carried out. By this misfortune the Athenians were Athen
thrown into despair ; they immediately sued for peace,sue fa
which the Spartans were now too proud to grant; then
turning their rage upon Pericles, they dismissed and
fined him. Soon after, Pericles’s children and almost
all his relations died of the plague ; so that this great
statesman was overwhelmed with melancholy, and for
some time shut himself up from public view : at last,
through the persuasion of Alcibiades and some others,
he showed himself to the people. They received him
with acclamations, and at his request repealed the un-
just
ATT
‘ Attica. just ^aw ma^e» whereby all Athenians of the half
o !_ ‘ ‘ blood were disfranchised, and then reinstated him in all
up his former honours. Hereupon he inrolled the only son
Pericles re-jie j]£l£j
who before had been counted a bastard on
qnCSt] of6 account °f mother being a Milesian.
( jaw. This year also the island of Zacynthus was wasted
jii by the Peloponnesians; and the city of Potidsea sub¬
mitted to the Athenians, after the inhabitants had been
driven to such extremity as to feed upon human flesh.
The Athenians permitted the men to depart with one
garment, and the women with two j after which, the
no town was repeopled by a colony from Athens.
Third year. The third year of the Peloponnesian war was re-
Pcricles markable for the death of the great Pericles, who was
^iesj2i taken off by the plague. Plataea also was besieged by
Platsea be- Archidamus ; but without success, even though the
sieged. greatest part of it was set on fire 5 the Plataeans resol¬
ving to submit to every kind of misery rather than
abandon the Athenian cause. In the end, therefore,
the king of Sparta was obliged to turn the siege into a
blockade •, and having thrown up an intrenchment for¬
tified with a deep ditch, he left a sufficient number of
men to guard his lines, and then returned back to Pe¬
rn loponnesus.
Faurth The following summer, the Peloponnesians under the
^erate^t-1 comman^ Archidamus invaded Attica, where they
temptof" wasted every thing with fire and sword ; at the same
the Plato- time the whole island of Lesbos, except the district of
ans. Methymna, revolted from the Athenians, who here¬
upon invested the city of Mitylene. All this time the
city of Platsea was blocked up by the Peloponnesians ;
and its inhabitants being now greatly distressed for
want of provisions, the garrison, consisting of 400 na¬
tives and 80 Athenians, came to the desperate resolu¬
tion of forcing a passage through the enemy’s lines.
When they came to attempt this, however, many of them
were intimidated : but 300 persisted in their resolution j
and of these 212 got safe through and marched to A-
thens, but the rest were compelled to retire.
Fifth year. In the beginning of the fifth year, the Peloponne-
Mitylene, sians sent 40 ships to the relief of Mitylene ; but with-
I’y'the An ou*' effect> fi°r the place had surrendered before the
tbenians. ^eet could come to its assistance. Paches, the Athe¬
nian commander, likewise chased away the Peloponne¬
sian fleet upon its arrival ; and returning to Lesbos
sent the Lacedaemonian minister, whom he found in Mi¬
tylene, together with a deputations, to Athens. On
their arrival, the Lacedaemonian was immediately put
to death ; and in a general assembly of the people, it
was resolved, that all the Mitylenians who were ar¬
rived at man’s estate should be put to death, and the
women and children sold for slaves. The next day,
however, this cruel decree was reversed, and a galley
sent with all expedition to countermand the bloody or¬
ders. This last vessel, however, could not get before
the other: but Paches, being a man of great humani¬
ty, had taken a day to consider on the orders he had
received $ during which time the last-mentioned galley
arrived j in consequence of which, only about 1000 of
the most forward rebels were put to death 5 the walls of
the city were also demolished, their ships taken away,
and their lands divided among the Athenians, who let
them again to their old masters at very high rents. The
same summer the Athenians seized the island of Mino-
as> tying over against the territory of Megaraj and
I C A » 239
likewise the port of Nisaea, which last they fortified, Attica.
and it proved afterwards a place of the utmost import- 1 —'
ance to them. x\t this time also the Plataeans, driven^ *24
to the last extremity, surrendered to the Lacedaemoni-taj5eiA,1(j
ans, by whom they were, to the number of 208, in-
eluding 25 Athenians, put to death, and their women
sold for slaves. Their city was soon after razed by
their implacable enemies the Thebans, who left only
an inn to show where it stood. The fame of Plataea,
however, induced Alexander the Great afterwards to
rebuild it. I2^
In this year happened the famous sedition of Cor-Sedition of
cyra, whence other seditions, when their effects ren- Corcyra.
dered them terrible, have been called Corcyrian. It
hath been already observed, that the war between the
Corcyrians and Corinthians brought on the general war
throughout Peloponnesus. A great number of Corcy¬
rians were in the beginning of this war carried away
prisoners into Peloponnesus, where the chief of them
were very well treated, but the rest sold for slaves.
The reason of this conduct of the Corinthians was a de¬
sign they had formed of engaging these Corcyrians to
influence their countrymen to side with them and their
allies. With this view they treated them with all ima¬
ginable lenity and tenderness, instilling into them by
degrees a hatred of democratic government; after
which they were told, that they might obtain their li¬
berty upon condition of using all their influence at
home in favour of the allies, and to the prejudice of
Athens. This the Corcyrians readily promised and en¬
deavoured to perform. At first, those who were for
an aristocracy prevailed, and murdered all those of the
opposite party that fell into their hands, in which they
were assisted by a fleet of Peloponnesians : but the A-
thenians sending first one fleet and then another to the
assistance of the distressed party, the Peloponnesians
were forced to withdraw j after which the democratic
party sufficiently revenged themselves, and destroyed
their antagonists without mercy. The worst of all was,
that this example once set, the several states of Greece \
felt in their turns the like commotions, which were al¬
ways heightened by agents from Sparta and Athens j
the former endeavouring to settle aristocracy, and the
latter democracy, wherever they came. I2(j
While the Athenians were thus engaged in a war Athenians
wherein they were already overmatched, they foolishly engage in
engaged in anew one, which in the end proved morea"!ar
fatal than all the rest. The inhabitants of Sicily were ,CI
split into two factions $ the one called the Doric, at
the head of which was the city of Syracuse ; the other
the Ionic, which owned the Leontines for their chiefs :
the latter perceiving themselves too weak without fo¬
reign aid, sent one Gorgias, a celebrated oratoi’, to
apply to Athens for relief 5 and he by his fine speeches
so captivated the giddy and inconstant Athenians, that
they ran headlong into a war which they were unable
to maintain while engaged with all the Peloponnesi¬
ans. Enticed by this new prospect, therefore, and
grasping at the conquest of Sicily, as well as of all
Greece, they sent a fleet to the assistance of the Le¬
ontines, under the command ofLachetes and Chabrias;
and they were no sooner sailed than another fleet for
the same purpose was begun to be fitted out. All this
time the plague continued to rage with great violence
at Athens, cutting off this year 4000 citizens, be¬
sides,.
A T T I O A.
''-7
Sixth year.
izS
Seventh
yea'-,
Pylus forti¬
fied by the
Athenians
129
Besieged.
130
Spartan
fleet de¬
stroyed.
Treachery
of the
Athenians.
132
They at¬
tack SphaC'
teria.
*33
Cleon the
orator ap¬
pointed
general.
sides a much greater number of the meaner sort of
people.
The sixth year of the Peloponnesian war was remark¬
able for no great exploit: Agis the son ot Archida-
mus, king of Sparta, assembled an army in order to
invade Attica, but was prevented from so doing by
many great earthquakes which happened throughout
Greece. The next year, however, he entered Attica
with his army, while the Athenians on their part sent
a fleet under the command of Demosthenes, to infest
the coasts of Peloponnesus. As this fleet passed by La¬
conia, the commander took notice that the promonto¬
ry of Pylus, which was joined to the continent by a
narrow neck of land, had before it a barren island a-
bout two miles in circumference, in which, however,
there was a good and safe port, all winds being kept
off by the headland, or by the isle. These advantages
made him apprehend, that a garrrison left here would
give the Peloponnesians so much trouble, that they
would find it more advisable to protect their own coun¬
try than to invade that of their neighbours. Accord¬
ingly, having raised a strong fortification, he himself
with five ships staid to defend it, while the rest of the
fleet proceeded on their intended expedition. On the
news of this event, the Peloponnesian army immedi¬
ately returned to besiege Pylus. When they arrived
before the place they took possession of the harbour,
and then caused a chosen body of Spartans take posses¬
sion of the island of Sphacteria, after which they at¬
tacked the fort with great vigour. Demosthenes and
his garrison defended themselves with great valour j
and an Athenian fleet arriving very seasonably, offer¬
ed battle to the Peloponnesian fleet. This being re¬
fused, the Athenians boldly sailed into the harbour,
broke and sunk most of the vessels therein, after which
they besieged the Spartans in Sphacteria. The Pelo¬
ponnesians now began to treat with their enemies, and
a truce was concluded during the time that negocia-
tions were carried on at Athens. One of the articles
of this truce was, that the Peloponnesians should deli¬
ver up all their ships, on condition of having them
punctually returned in case the treaty did not take ef¬
fect. The Athenians having heard the Spartan am¬
bassadors, were inclined to put an end to this destruc¬
tive war : but Cleon, one of their orators, a warm and
obstinate man, persuaded his countrymen to insist on
very unreasonable terms ; upon which the ambassadors
returned, and by doing so put an end to the truce.
The Peloponnesians then demanded their vessels j but
the Athenians refused to deliver them, under pretence
of their having broke the truce.
Hostilities being thus recommenced on both sides,
■the Lacedaemonians attacked the Athenians at Pylus,
while the latter attacked the Spartans at Sphacteria.
The Spartans, though but a handful of men, and under
every imaginable discouragement, behaved with such
bravery, that the siege proceeded very slowly, so that
the people of Athens became very uneasy. They be¬
gan then to wish they had embraced the offers of the
Spartans, and to rail vehemently against Cleon, who,
to excuse himself, said it would be easy for the gene¬
ral of the forces they were at that time sending to at¬
tack the Spartans in the isle, and reduce them at once.
Nicias, who had been appointed to this command, re¬
plied that if Cleon believed he could, do such great
things he would do well to go thither in person : the Att|ca
latter imagining this only meant to try him, said he ——
was ready to go with all his heart; whereby Nicias
catched him, and declared that he had relinquished his
charge. Cleon thereupon said, that he was no gene¬
ral j but Nicias told him that he might become one j
and the people, pleased with the controversy, held the
orator to his word. Cleon then advancing, told them
he was so little afraid of the enemy, that, with a very
inconsiderable force, he would undertake, in conjunc¬
tion with those already at Pylus, to bring to Athens
the Spartans who gave them so much trouble in 20
days. The people laughed at these promises : however, t
they furnished him with the troops he desired ; and to He takes
their surprise, Cleon brought the Spartans prisoners to die place
Athens within the time appointed.
This summer, likewise, an Athenian fleet was sent End of di
to Sicily, with instructions to put in at Corcyra, and Core.ynan
assist the government against the Lacedsemonian fac-se
tion which still subsisted in that island. This they ef¬
fectually performed ; for by their means the exiles fell
into the hands of the other party : these they imprison¬
ed ; and then drew them out by 20 at a time, to suffer
death, which was inflicted with all the circumstances
of cruelty that party-rage could suggest. When only
60 remained, they entreated the Athenians to put them
to death, and not to deliver them up to their country¬
men ; but upon this the Corcyrians surrounded the
place where they were confined, endeavouring to bury
them under their darts j upon which the unhappy cap¬
tives all put an end to their own lives.
In the eighth year Nicias reduced the isle of Cythe- EiAth
ra on the coast of Laconia j as likewise Thyrsea, on year,
the confines of that country. The latter had been Success4
given to the AEginetans when expelled from their own tlie At'ie‘
country by the Athenians : and they were now con¬
demned to death, as inveterate enemies of the Atheni¬
an state and nation.—In Sicily, one Hermocrates of
Syracuse persuaded all the inhabitants of the island to
adjust their difierences among themselves; upon which
the Athenian generals returned home, and for so doing
two of them were banished, and the third sentenced to
pay a heavy fine.
The Athenians next laid siege to Megara under the
conduct of Hippocrates and Demosthenes ; but Brasi-
das a Spartan general coming to its relief, a battle en¬
sued, by which, though neither party got the better,
the Lacedaemonian faction prevailed in Megara, and
many who favoured the Athenians were forced to with- party [ire
draw. After this, such as had been banished for ad-vails in
hering to the Lacedaemonians were allowed to return, on Megars.
their taking an oath to forget what was past, and attempt
nothing that might disturb their country. As soon as
they were settled, however, they forgot their oath ; and
causing 100 of those who were most obnoxious to be ap¬
prehended, forced the people to condemn them to death.
They then changed the whole form of government, in¬
troduced an oligarchy, and possessed themselves of the
supreme power. ^5
In Boeotia some commotions were raised in favour of Athenia^
the Athenians; but their generals Hippocrates and lose their
Demosthenes being defeated by the opposite party, allPower.am
hopes ceased of the Athenian power being established ®ce0
in Bceotia. In the mean time Brasidas reduced the ci¬
ty of Amphipolis, which greatly alarmed the Atheni¬
ans,
Attica.
*3P
Ninth year
A truce
concluded
md broken.
140
'Icon de-
eated and
:illed by
Jrasida'.
141
fifty
:ars peace
141
ew dis.
intents.
ATT
arts, tvlio thereupon sent netv supplies of men, money,
and ships to the Macedonian coast j hut all their care
could not prevent a great desertion from their interest
in those parts, where the conduct and valour of Brasidas
carried all before him.
In the ninth year, the Spartans made new proposals
of peace, which the Athenians were now more inclined
to accept than formerly j and finding their affairs very
much unsettled by the loss of Amphipolis, a truce for
a year was quickly agreed on, while negociations were
in the mean time carrying on for a general peace.
This pacific scheme, however, was very soon over¬
thrown by the following accident in Thrace. The ci¬
ty of Scione, and that of Menda, revolted to Brasi¬
das ; who, knowing nothing of the truce, sought to
draw over Potidaea also. The Athenians, pretending
that Scione revolted two days after the truce was con¬
cluded, made heavy complaints, asserting that this was
a breach of the truce, and that both it and Menda
should be restored to them. This not being effected
by negociations, an army was sent against the two ci¬
ties by which Menda was reduced ) but Scione ma¬
king an obstinate defence, the siege was turned into a
blockade.
In the tenth year Brasidas made an attempt upon Po-
tidaea j which having failed, the Athenians began to re¬
cover some courage. The truce expiring on the day of
the Pythian games, Cleon persuaded the Athenians to
send an army into Thrace under his own command. It
consisted of 1200 foot and 300 horse, all Athenian citi¬
zens, who embarked on board 30 galleys. Brasidas
had an army much inferior 5 but observing that the A-
thenian general was become caredess, and neglected dis¬
cipline, he attacked him. In this engagement Cleon
was killed, and the Athenians were defeated with the
loss of 600 men, while the Spartans lost only seven ;
hut among these was their brave commander Brasidas,
whose death affected them almost as much as the loss
of their army did the Athenians.
As the death of Cleon deprived the Athenians of
'one of their best speakers, and one who had been very
industrious in promoting the war, they were now much
more disposed than formerly to hearken to terms of ac¬
commodation. Amongst the Spartans, too, there was
a party, at the head of whom was Plistonax their king,
who earnestly wished for peace j and as Nicias labour¬
ed no less assiduously at Athens to bring about this de¬
sirable event, a peace was at last concluded for fifty
years between the two nations. The conditions were,
that a restitution of places and prisoners should be made
on both sides $ excepting that Nisaea should remain to
the Athenians, who had taken it from the Megarians,
and that Plataea should continue with the Thebans, be¬
cause they absolutely would not give it up. The Boeo¬
tians, Corinthians, and Megarians, refused to be in¬
cluded in this peace : but the rest of the allies yielded
to it $ and it was accordingly ratified, receiving the
name of the Nician peace, from Nicias who had so vi¬
gorously promoted it.
By this means, however, tranquillity was far from
being restored, buch of the states of Peloponnesus as
were dissatisfied, began immediately to league among
themselves, and to set on foot a new confederacy, the
head of which was to be the state of Argos. The La¬
cedaemonians, too, found it impossible to perform ex-
Vol. III. Part I. f
241
Attica.
I C A.
actly the articles of agreement j the city of Amphipolis,
in particular, absolutely refused to return under the A-
thenian government; for which reason the Athenians
refused to evacute Pylus. In the winter, new negoci¬
ations were entered into on all sides, but nothing deter¬
mined, and universal murmuring and discontent took
place. These discontents were not a little heightened Heightened
by AScibiades, who now began to rival Nicias, and, by Aid.
perceiving the Lacedaemonians paid their court mostly blades,
to his rival, took all opportunities to incense his coun¬
trymen against that nation. Nicias, on the other hand,
who wished for nothing so much as peace, used all his
endeavours to bring about a reconciliation. The arti¬
fices of Alcibiades, however, added to the turbulent and
haughty disposition of both nations, rendered this im¬
possible ; so that though Nicias went on purpose to
Sparta, he returned without doing any thing.
Alcibiades having thus disposed every thing accord-His ntea-
ing to his wishes, and a war being inevitable, he began sures for
to take the most prudent methods for preserving histlle sa.fet-v
country in safety. With this view he entered into aof Allici-
league for 100 years with the Argives, which he hoped
would keep the war at a distance ; he next passed over
into the territories of Argos, at the head of a consider¬
able army ; and laboured, both at that city and at Pa-
trae, to persuade the people to build walls to the sea,
that so they might the more easily receive assistance from
the Athenians. But though great preparations for war
were now made, nothing was undertaken this year;
only the Argives thought to have made themselves mas¬
ters of Epidaurus, but were hindered by the Lacedae¬
monians putting a garrison into it.
The next year (the 14th after the Peloponnesian war Fourteenth
was first begun) a Spartan army, under the command year. War
of Agis, entered the territory of Argos, where the con- renewed,
federate army lay; but just as the engagement was
about to begin, a truce was suddenly concluded by two
of the Argive generals and the king of Sparta. With
this neither party was pleased, and both the king and.
generals were very ill treated by their citizens. On the
arrival of some fresh troops from Athens, therefore, the I4<?
Argives immediately broke the truce; but the allied Athenians,
army was soon after defeated with great slaughter by Z*-0- defeat-
Agis ; notwithstanding which, however, the Eleans and e.d at Man'
Athenians invested Epidaurus. In the winter a strong
party in Argos joined the Lacedaemonians; in conse¬
quence of which that city renounced her alliance with
Athens, and concluded one with Sparta for 50 years.
In compliment to their new allies, also, the Argives
abolished democracy in their city, establishing an aristo¬
cracy in its place, and assisted the Lacedaemonians with
a considerable body of troops to force the Sicyonians
to do the same. T,„
In the beginning of the 15th year, the Argives, with Fifteenth
a levity seemingly natural to all the Greeks, renounced year-
their alliance with Sparta, abolished aristocracy, drove
all the Lacedaemonians out of the city, and renewed
their league with Athens. The Athenians, in the mean
time, being convinced of the treachery of Perdiccas
king of Macedon, renounced their alliance with him,
and declared war against him.
Next year Alcibiades terminated the disputes in the Sixteenth
city of Argos, by the banishment of the Spartan fac-^ear; . Mc~
tion ; after which he sailed to the island of Melos, a"1
whose inhabitants had acted with the greatest invete- thenians.
H h racy
ATTICA.
149
Seven-
racy against his countrymen: perceiving, however, that
the reduction of the island would be a work of time, he
left a considerable body of forces there, and returned to
Athens. In his absence the capital of Melos surrender¬
ed at discretion, and the inhabitants were treated with
the utmost cruelty: all the men capable ol bearing arms
being slaughtered, and the women and children carried
into captivity.
In the beginning of the 17th year, Nicias was ap-
teenth year. p0|nje(j commander of an expedition against the Syra-
Atheuian cugans alomt with Alcibiades and Lamachus as col-
Sicily lost, leagues. But while the necessary preparations were ma-
and Alcibi- king, all things were thrown into confusion by the de-
ades flies to facJng 0f the Hermse, or statues of Mercury, of which
Syaita. there was a great number in the city. The authors of
this sacrilege could by no means be discovered, though
rewards were offered for this purpose: at last the suspi¬
cion fell upon Alcihiades ; and for this weighty reason
he was commanded to return from Sicily to take his
trial. Alcibiades, however, knew the temper of his
countrymen too well to trust himself to their mercy ;
and therefore, instead of returning to Athens, he fled
immediately to Sparta, where he met with a gracious
reception j while the infatuated Athenians were severely
punished by the loss of their army, generals, and fleet,
in Sicily, which the superior abilities of Alcibiades
150 would in all probability have prevented.
Nineteenth 'f|ie an(j 2oth years of the war were spent by
tietl^years ^ie Athenians in equipping a new fleet in order to re-
’pair their vast losses j but Alcibiades hurt their inte¬
rests very much, by persuading Tissaphernes the Per¬
sian to league with the Spartans against them : at the
same time he persuaded several of the Ionian states to
revolt from Athens, but they were in a sbort time
obliged again to submit. Notwithstanding all these
services, however, Alcibiades had rendered himself so
hateful to Agis, by debauching his wife, that he soon
found himself obliged to fly to the Persians, where
Tissaphernes gave him a very favourable reception,
and profited mucfi by his advice, which was, to let
the Greeks weaken one another by their mutual wars,
and that the Persians ought never to see one state to¬
tally destroyed, but always to support the weaker
party.
When Tissaphernes had acquiesced with these coun-
tion'of de- se^s’ Alcibiades privately wrote to some of the officers
nocracy at J’n t!’6 Athenian army at Samos, that he had been
Athens. treating with the Persians in behalf of his countrymen,
but did not choose to return till the democracy should
be abolished; and to incline the citizens to comply
with this measure, he told them that the Persian king
.disliked a democracy, hut would immediately assist
them if that was abolished, and an oligarchy erected in
its stead.
On the arrival of Pisander and other deputies from
the army, with the proposals of Alcibiades, the Athe¬
nians without hesitation resolved to overturn that de¬
mocracy which they had all along so strenuously de¬
fended. The issue of their present debate was, that
Pisander with ten deputies should return to Alcibi¬
ades, in order to know on what terms the king of
Persia would make an alliance with them : hut that
cunning Athenian having perceived that Tissaphernes
was by no means disposed to assist the Athenians on
account of their having been lately successful, he set
3
151
Alcibiades
flies to
Persia.
IS2
Propo>e6
the aboli-
up such high demands in the king of Persia’s name, ^tlica
that the Athenians of themselves broke oft' the treaty,  —L
and thus Alcibiades preserved the friendship of both
parties.
Pisander having engaged the army at Samos in his
scheme of overturning democracy, that form of go¬
vernment was abolished first in the cities subject to x_^
Athens, and lastly in the capital itself. Pisander’s new New form
scheme was, That the old form ol government should g°vei'n-
be totallv dissolved : that five prytanes should be elect-"jf"1 esta‘
ed : that these five should choose too : and that each u IsIiC ‘
of the hundred should choose three: that the 400 thus
elected should become a senate with full power ; but
should occasionally consult with 5000 of the most weal¬
thy citizens, who should thenceforward he esteemed
on\y the people; and that no authority should remain
with the lowest class. Though the people were not
very fond of this change, those who conducted it,
being men of great parts, found means to establish it
by force ; for when the people were gone out of the
city to their ordinary employments, the 400, hav¬
ing each a dagger concealed under his vest, attend¬
ed by a guard of 120 men, entered the senate house,
dissolved the old senate, and without ceremony turn¬
ed them out; after which the commons, not knowing
whom to submit to, or to whom to apply, made no op¬
position.
The first step of the new governors was to destroy
all tlieir enemies ; who, however, were not very nu¬
merous, so that little blood was shed. They next sent
ambassadors to Agis to sue for peace ; but he, taking
for granted that the Athenians would never defend an
oligarchy, gave no answer to the ambassadors, but im¬
mediately marched towards the capital with a design to
attack it. On his arrival, hov/ever, he was quickly
convinced of his mistake, being repulsed with loss, and
obliged to retire to his old post.
In the mean time the Athenian army declared again The army
for a democracy ; and having recalled Alcibiades, in-.declare for
vested him with full power, and insisted on his imme-a^emo^
diate return to Athens to restore the ancient £overn‘
ment. This measure he refused to comply with, and^i^cs.
persuaded them to stay where they were, in order to
save Ionia : he also prevailed on them to allow some
deputies, who had been sent from the new gover¬
nors of Athens, to come and deliver their message.
To these deputies Alcibiades replied, that they should
immediately return to Athens, and acquaint the 400,
that they were commanded immediately to resign their
power and restore the senate ; hut that the 5OCO
might retain theirs, provided they used it with mode¬
ration. 155
By this answer the city was thrown into the utmost Great con-
confusion ; but the new government party prevailing,
ambassadors were despatched to Sparta with orders to
procure peace on any terms. This, however, was not
to he effected ; and Phrynicus, the head of the em¬
bassy, and likewise of the new government party, was
murdered on his return. After his death, Theramenes,
the head ol the other party, seized the chiefs of the
400 ; upon which a tumult ensued that had almost pro¬
ved fatal to the city itself. The mob, however, being
at last dispersed, the 400 assembled, though in great
fear, and sent deputies to the people, promising to set
all things to rights. In consequence of this deputa¬
tion,
ATT
Utica. tf°n> a day was appointed for convoking a general as-
v—v—sembly, and settling the state j but when that day came,
news was brought that the Lacedaemonian fleet appear¬
ed in view, and steered directly for Salamis. Thus all
was again thrown into confusion ; for the people, in¬
stead of deliberating on the subject proposed, ran in
crowds down to the port, and perceiving the Spartans
made towards Euboea, a fleet of 36 ships was immedi¬
ately despatched under the command of Thymochares,
genian to engage tl'6 enemy. This fleet was utterly defeated,
flU de- 22 of the Athenian ships being taken, and most of the
sJpyed by others sunk or disabled ; but what was worse, this de-
t! Spar- feat was followed by the revolt of all the country of
Euboea except Orcus.
When these dismal tidings arrived at Athens, every
thing was given up for lost; and had the Lacedaemo¬
nians taken this opportunity of attacking the city,
they had undoubtedly succeeded, and thus put an end
to the war : but being at all times slow, especially in
naval affairs, they gave the Athenians time to equip a
new fleet, and to retrieve their affairs. One good ef¬
fect of this disaster, however, was the putting an end
for a time to the internal dissensions of this turbulent
people ; insomuch that Thucydides the historian is of
opinion, that the republic never enjoyed so much quiet
» as at this time.
Edoits of Alcibiades now showed his abilities and inclination
Afbiades. serve country in an eminent manner. By his
intrigues he so effectually embroiled the Persians and
Peloponnesians with each other, that neither party
knew whom to trust. Thrasybulus, with 55 ships,
gained a victory over the Peloponnesian fleet consisting
of 73 : after which he took eight galleys coming from
Byzantium j which city had revolted from the Athe¬
nians, but was soon after taken, and the inhabitants se¬
verely fined. The fleet being afterwards joined by Al¬
cibiades, nine more or the Peloponnesian galleys were
taken, the Halicarnassians were constrained to pay a
large sum ot money, and Cos was strongly fortified :
which transactions ended the 21st year of the Pelo¬
ponnesian war.
In the succeeding years of this famous war, the
Athenians had at first great ads'antages. Thrasybulus
gained a signal victory at sea j and Alcibiades gained
two victories, one by sea and another by land, in one
I •-$ day ; took the whole Peloponnesian fleet, and more
T Spar- sP0,-l than his men could carry away. The Spartans
ta;i sue were now humbled in their turn, and* sued for peace ;
fo >eace. but the Athenians were so intoxicated with their suc¬
cess, that they sent back the ambassadors without an an-
swer • which they soon had sufficient reason to repent
T!y take ^l.ie ^ginning of the Athenian misfortunes was
Pills. the taking of Pylus by the Spartans. The Athenians
had sent a fleet under the command of one Auytus to
its defence: but he was driven back by contrary
winds ; upon which he was condemned to death, be¬
cause he could not cause the wind blow from what
quarter he pleased : this sentence, however, was re¬
mitted on his paying a vast sum of money. This mis¬
fortune was quickly followed by another. The Me-
garians surprised Nysaja; which enraged the Athe¬
nians so much, that they immediately sent an army into
tnat country, who defeated the Megarians who opposed
them with great slaughter, and committed horrid deva¬
stations.
I C A. 243
These misfortunes as yet, however, were overbalan* Attica,
ced by the great actions of Alcibiades, Thrasybulus,v——'
and Theramenes. When Alcihiades returned, he .,(?0
brought with him a fleet of 200 ships, and such a load ^n^^’a^es
of spoils as had never been seen in Athens since the thens in
conclusion of the Persian war. The people left their triumph,
city destitute, that they might crowd to the port, to
behold Alcibiades as he landed j old and young blessed
him as he passed ; and next day when he made a ha¬
rangue to the assembly, they directed the record of his
banishment to be thrown into the sea, absolved him
from the curses he lay under, and created him general
with full power. Nor did he seem inclined to indulge I(,[
himself in ease, but soon put to sea again with a fleetHeisdis-
of 100 ships. He had not been long gone, however, graced,
before all this was forgot. Alcibiades sailed to the
Hellespont with part of his fleet, leaving the rest un¬
der the command of Antiochus his pilot, but with
strict orders to attempt nothing.before his return. This
command the pilot paid no regard to, but provoked
Lysander the Lacedaemonian admiral to an engage¬
ment, and in consequence of his temerity was defeated
with the loss of 15 ships, himself being killed in the
engagement. On the news of this defeat Alcibiades
returned, and endeavoured to provoke the Lacedaemo¬
nians to a second battle ; but this Lysander prudently
declined j and in the mean time, the Athenians, with
unparalleled ingratitude and inconstancy, deprived Al¬
cibiades of his command, naming ten new generals in
his room. 162
This was the last step the Athenians had to take forTheAthe-
perfecting their ruin. Conon, who succeeded to the1113113 S^.11
command, was defeated by Callicratides, Lysander’s
successor; but being afterwards strongly reinforeed,pUt six of
the Lacedaemonians were entirely defeated with the loss their gene-
of 77 ships. Such a victory might at this time have™1® 5°
inspired the Athenians with some kind of gratitude to-deat
wards the generals who gained it ; but instead of this,
on pretence of their not having assisted the wounded
during the engagement, eight of them were recalled j
two were wise enough not to return ; and the six who
trusted to the justice of their country were all put to
death. i6.
The next year Lysander was appointed commander They are
of what fleet tiie Peloponnesians had left, with which utterly de-
he took Thasus and Lampsacus. Conon was despatch-teate^ by
ed against him with 180 ships, which being greatly Lysandci! ?
superior to Lysander’s fleet, that general refused to
come to an engagement, and was blocked up in the
river iEgos. While the Athenians lay there, they
grew quite idle and careless ; insomuch that Alcibiades,
who had built a castle for himself in the the neighbour¬
hood, entreated them to be more on their guard, as he
well knew Lysander’s abilities. They answered, that
they wondered at his assurance, who was an exile and
a vagabond, to come and give laws to them ; telling
him, that if he gave them any farther trouble, they
would seize and send him to Athens. At the same
time they looked on victory as so certain, that they
consulted what they should do with their prisoners ;
which, by the advice of Philocles their general, was to
■ cut off all their right hands, or, according to Plutarch,
their right thumbs ; and Adiamantus, one of their of¬
ficers, rendered himself very obnoxious by saying, that
such idle discourse did not become Athenians. The
H h 2 consequences
244
Attica.
T I C A.
164
who takes
Athens.
Terms of
peace.
166
The thirty
tyrants.
167
Critias ami
Therame-
nes, their
opposite
characters.
consequences of such conduct may be easily imagined.
' Lysander fell unexpectedly upon them, and gained a
most complete victory 5 Conon, with eight galleys
only, escaping to Cyprus 5 after which Lysander re¬
turned to Lampsacus, where he put to death Philocles
with 3000 of his soldiers, and all the officers except
Adiamantus. This execution being over, he reduced
all the cities subject to Athens ; and with great civi¬
lity sent home their garrisons, that so the city might
be overstocked with inhabitants, and destitute of pro¬
visions, when he came to besiege it j which he did soon
after by sea, while Agis, with a great army, invested
it by land.
For a long time the Athenians did not so much as
desire a peace ; but at last were forced to send depu¬
ties to Agis, who sent them to Sparta, where no terms
could be granted except they consented to demolish
their walls. They next sent to Lysander, who after a
long attendance referred them to,Sparta j and thither
Theramenes with some other deputies was immediately
sent. On their arrival, they found the council of the
confederates sitting, who all except the Spartans gave
their votes that Athens should be utterly destroyed ;
but they would not consent to the ruin of that city,
which had deserved so well of Greece. On the return
of Theramenes, peace was concluded, on condition
that the long walls and the fortifications of the port
should be demolished j that they should give up all
their ships but 12, receive all they had banished, and
follow the fortune of the Lacedaemonians. These se¬
vere terms were punctually executed. Lysander caused
the walls to be pulled down, all the music in his army
playing, on that very day of the year on which they
had beat the Persians at Salamis. He likewise esta¬
blished an oligarchy expressly against the will of the
people } and thus the ruin of Athens ended the 27th
year of the Peloponnesian war, and the 404th before
Christ.
As soon as Lysander had demolished the long walls,
and the fortifications of the Piraeus, he constituted a
council of thirty, with power, as was pretended, to make
laws, but in truth to subjugate the state. These are the
persons so famous in history, under the title of t/ie thirty
tyrants. They were all the creatures of Lysander ; who,
as they derived their rise from conquest and the law of
the sword, exercised their offices in a suitable manner;
that is, with the highest testimonies of pride, insolence,
and cruelty. Instead of making laws, they governed
without them ; appointed a senate and magistrates at
their will j and, that they might do all things without
danger of controul, they sent for a garrison from Lace-
dsemon ; which was accordingly granted them, under the
command of Callidius, upon their promise to pay the
soldiers regularly. One of the first steps they took was
to punish all informers ; which, though severe, was po¬
pular; but when, through flattery and bribes, they had
wholly drawn over Callidius to their party, they suffered
bad men to live in quiet, and turned their rage against
the good.
Critias and Theramenes were at the head of the
thirty, men of the greatest power and abilities in
Athens. The former was ambitious and cruel with¬
out measure ; the latter was somewhat more merciful :
the former pushed on all the bloody schemes framed by
bis confederates; and carried into execution many of
his own ; the latter always opposed them, at first with Attica,
moderation, at last with vehemence. He said, that ■
power was given them to rule, and not to spoil, the
commonwealth ; that it became them to act like shep¬
herds, not like wolves ; and that they ought to be*
ware of rendering themselves at once odious and ridi¬
culous, by attempting to domineer over all, being such
a handful of men as they were. The rest, disliking much
the former part of his discourse, catched hold of the lat¬
ter, and immediately chose out 3000, whom they made
the representatives of the people, and to whom they
granted this notable privilege, that none of them should
be put to death but by judgment of the senate, thereby
openly assuming a power of putting any other of the
Athenian citizens to death by their own authority. A
glorious use they made of this new-assumed privilege;
for as many as they conjectured to be no friends to the
government in general, or to any of themselves in par¬
ticular, they put to death, without cause, and without
mercy. Theramenes openly opposing this, and abso¬
lutely refusing to concur in such measures, Critias ac¬
cused him to the senate as a man of unsteady princi¬
ples, sometimes for the people, sometimes against them,
always for new things and state-revolutions. Thera¬
menes owned, that he had sometimes changed his mea¬
sures, but alleged that he had always done it to serve
the people. He said that it was solely with this view
he made the peace with Sparta, and accepted the office
of one of the thirty : that he had never opposed their
measures while they cut off the wicked ; but when they
began to destroy men of fortune and family, then he
owned he had differed with them, which he conceived
to be no crime against the state. ,55
While Theramenes was speaking, Critias withdrew, Thera-
perceiving that the senate were thoroughly convinced ofmene,Put
the truth of what Theramenes had said : but he quick-t0 (^eat*L
ly returned with a guard, crying out, that he had struck
Theramenes’s name out of the list of the 3000 ; that
the senate had, therefore, no longer cognizance of the
cause, when the thirty had already judged and con¬
demned him to death. Theramenes perceiving that
they intended to seize him, fled to the altar, which
was in the midst of the senate-house, and laying his
hands thereon, said, “ I do not seek refuge here be¬
cause I expect to escape death, or desire it; but that,
tearing me from the altar, the impious authors of my
murder may interest the gods in bringing them to speedy
judgment, and thereby restore freedom to my country.”
The guards then dragged him from the altar, and car¬
ried him to the place of execution, where he drank the
poison with undaunted courage, putting the people in
mind with his last breath, that as they had struck his
name out of the 3000, they might also strike out any
of theirs. His death was followed by a train of mur¬
ders, so that, in a short time, 60 of the worthiest and
most eminent citizens of Athens fell by the cruelty of
the thirty. Among these, the most pitied was Ni-
ceratus the son of Nicias; a man universally beloved
for his goodness, and universally admired for his vir¬
tues. As for the Spartans, they, losing their former
generosity, were extremely pleased'with these things,
and, by a public decree, commanded that such as fled
from the thirty tyrants should be carried back bound
to Athens : which extraordinary proceeding frightened
all Greece ; but the Argives and Thebans only had
courage
ATT
Auica. courage to oppose it: the former received the Athenian
exiles with humanity and kindness, the latter punished
with a mulct such of their citizens as did not rise and
rescue the Athenian prisoners, who in pursuance of the
Lacedaemonian decree were carried bound through
their territories,
Thrasybulus, and such as with him had taken shelter
in the Theban territory, resolved to hazard every thing,
rather than remain perpetual exiles from their country j
and though he had but 30 men on whom he could de¬
pend, yet considering the victories he had heretofore ob-
1S9 tained in the cause of his country, he made an irruption
ira*ybu- jn^0 Attica, where he seized Phyla, a castle at a very
ifS]aZeS snia^ distance from Athens, where in a very short space
his forces wei’e augmented to 700 men j and though
the tyrants made use of the Spartan garrison in their
endeavours to reduce him and his party, yet Thrasybu¬
lus prevailed in various skirmishes, and at last obliged
them to break up the blockade of Phyla, which they
had formed. The thirty and their party conceiving it
very advantageous for them to have the possession of
Eleusina, marched thither, and having persuaded the
people to go unarmed out of their city, that they
might number them, took this opportunity most inhu¬
manly to murder them. The forces of Thrasybulus in¬
creasing daily, he at length possessed himself of the Pi¬
raeus, which he fortified in the best manner he could j
but the tyrants being determined to didve him from
thence, came down against him with the utmost force
they could raise. Thrasybulus defended himself with
great obstinacy j and in the end they were forced to re¬
treat, having lost before the place not only a great num-
titias°kill-^er their men, but Critias the president of the thirty,
another of the same body, and one who had been a cap¬
tain of the Piraeus.
When they came to demand the dead from Thrasy¬
bulus, in order for their interment, he caused a crier
he had with him to make a short speech in a very loud
voice to the people, entreating them to consider, that
as they were citizens of Athens without, so those against
whom they fought, and those who sought to preserve
themselves within the fort, were Athenian citizens also 5
wherefore, instead of thinking how to ruin and destroy
their brethren, they ought rather to consult how all
differences might be composed, and especially ought
to lid themselves of those bloody tyrants, who, in the
short time they had had the administration in their
hands, had destroyed more than had fallen in the Pelo¬
ponnesian war. The people, though moved by these dis-
vji courses, differed among themselves j the consequence of
P* tyrants which was, that they expelled the thirty, and chose ten
' ed' men out of each tribe to govern in their stead, where¬
upon the tyrants retired to Eleusina. The citizens,
however, though they changed the government, made
no agreement with those in the Piraeus; but sent away
deputies to Sparta, as did all the tyrants from Eleu¬
sina, complaining, that the Athenians had revolted,
r and desiring their assistance to reduce them. The Spar-
-Hlpt Ot * 1 l « r
t||Spar. tans sent thereupon a large sum 01 money to encourage
store- their confederates, and appointed Lysander commander
- A- in chief, and his brother to be admiral *, resolving to
^iUme' Sena sea and land forces to reduce Athens a second
time ; intending, as most of the Greek states suspected,
to add it now to their own dominions. It is very pro-
n (
I G A. 245
bable that this design of theirs would have taken effect, Attica,
if Pausanias king of Sparta, envying Lysander, had not
resolved to obstruct it. With this view, he procured
another army to be raised against the Athenians, of
which himself had the command, and with which he
marched immediately to besiege the Piraeus. While hs
lay before the place, and pretended to attack it, he en¬
tered into a private correspondence with Thrasybulus,
informing him what propositions he should make in
order to force the Lacedaemonians, who were suspected
by their allies, to grant them peace. 175
The intrigues of Pausanias had all the success heHowfru*-’
could wish. The Ephori who were with him in the camptrate<h
concurred in his measures, so that in a short space a
treaty was concluded on the following terms : That all
the citizens of Athens should be restored to their houses
and privileges, excepting the thirty, the ten which had
succeeded them and who had acted no less tyrannically
than they, and the eleven who during the time of the
oligarchy had been constituted governors or keepers of
the Piraeus : that all should remain quiet for the fu¬
ture in the city 5 and that, if any were afraid to trust to
this agreement, they should have free leave to retire to
Eleusina. Pausanias then marched away with the Spar¬
tan army, and Thrasybulus at the head of his forces
marched into Athens, where having laid down their
arms, they sacrificed with the rest of the citizens in the
temple of Minerva, after which the popular govern¬
ment was restored. Yet quiet was not thoroughly esta¬
blished. The exiles^ at Eleusina having endeavoured
by the help of money to raise an army of foreigners,
by whose aid they might recover the authority they
had lost: but first depending on their friends in the
city, they sent some of the principal persons amongst.
them as deputies, to treat with the citizens j but strictly
instructed them to sow jealousies and excite discords
among them. This the latter quickly perceiving, put
these persons to death : and then remonstrating to those
at Eleusina, that these contentions would undoubtedly
end either in their own or the destruction of their coun¬
try, they offered immediately to pass an act of oblivion,
which they would confirm with an oath.
This being accepted, those who had withdrawn re¬
turned to the city, where all differences were adjusted,
and both parties most religiously observed the agree¬
ment they had made, and thereby thoroughly resettled
the state. In this whole transaction, the virtue of Thra- ^
sybulus deserves chiefly to be admired. When.he first Virtue of
seized the castle of Phyla, the tyrants privately offered Thrasybu-
to receive him into their number instead ofTheramenes, ^as*
and to pardon at his request any 12 persons he should
name: but he generously answered, That his exile was
far more honourable than any authority could be, pur¬
chased on such terms j and by persisting in bis design,
accomplished, as we have seen, the deliverance of his
country. A glorious deliverance it was ; since, as Iso¬
crates informs us, they had put 1400 citizens to death
contrary to and without any form of law, and driven
5000 more into banishment; procuring also the death
of Alcibiades, as many think, though at a, great dis¬
tance from them.
From this time to the reign of Philip of Maeedon, the
Athenians continued in a pretty prosperous situation,
though they never performed any such great, exploits
246
ATT
Attica.
* Travels
into Greece,
p. 2S. See.
175
History of
Athens
from the
time of
Aleitander
the Great
to the pre¬
sent.
as formerly. By that monarch and his son Alexander
all Greece was in eft'ect subdued, and the history of all
the Grecian states from that time becomes much less
interesting. Of the history of Athens from that time
to the present, the following elegant abridgement is gi¬
ven by Dr Chandler *. “ On the death of Alexander,
the Athenians revolted, but were defeated by Anti¬
pater, who garrisoned Munychia. They rebelled again,
but the garrison and oligarchy were reinstatedi De¬
metrius the Phalerean, who was made governor, beau¬
tified the city, and they erected to him 360 statues ;
which on his expulsion they demolished, except one
in the Acropolis. Demetrius Poliocertes withdrew the
garrison, and restored the democracy ; when they deified
him, and lodged him in the Opisthodomos or the back
part of the Parthenon, as a guest to be entertained by
their goddess Minerva. Afterwards they decreed, that
the Piraeus, with Munychia, should be at his disposal j
and he took the Museum. They expelled his garrison,
and he was persuaded by Craterus a philosopher to
leave them free. Antigonus Gonatas, the next king,
maintained a garrison in Athens : but on the death of
his son Demetrius, the people, with the assistance of
Aratus, regained their liberty ; and the Pireeus, Mu¬
nychia, Salamis, and Sunium, on paying a sum of mo-
nev.
“ Philip, son of Demetrius, encamping near the city,
destroying and burning the sepulchres and temples in
the villages, and laying their territory waste, the Athe¬
nians were reduced to solicit protection from the Bo-
mans, and to receive a garrison, which remained until
the war with Mithridates king of Pontus, when the
tyrant Aristion made them revolt.
Attiens be- “ Archelaus the Athenian general, unable to with-
taken Stan^ t‘ie R°man fury, relinquished the long walls, and
y retreated into the Piraeus and Munychia. Sylla laid siege
to the Piraeus and to the city, in which Aristion com¬
manded. He was informed that some persons had been
overheard talking in the Ceramicus, and blaming Aris¬
tion for his neglect of the avenues about the Heptachal-
cos, where the wall was accessible. Sylla resolved to
storm there, and about midnight entered the town at
the gate called Dypylon or the Pircean ; having levelled
all obstacles in the way between it and the gate of the
Piraeus. Aristion fled to the Acropolis, but was com¬
pelled to surrender by the want of water 5 when he was
dragged from the temple of Minerva, and put to death.
Sylla. burned the Piraeus and Munychia, and defaced
the city and suburbs, not sparing even the sepulchres.
“ The civil war between Caesar and Pompey soon fol¬
lowed, and their natural love of liberty made them side
with Pompey. Here again they were unfortunate, for
Caesar conquered. But Caesar did not treat them like.
Sylla. With that clemency which made so amiable a
part of his character, he dismissed them by a fine allu¬
sion to their illustrious ancestors, saying, that he spared
the living for the sake of the dead. ’
“ Another storm followed soon after this ; the wars of
Brutus and Cassius with Augustus and Antonv. Their
partiality for liberty did not here forsake them : they
took part in the contest with the two patriot Bomans,
and erected their statues near their own ancient deliver¬
ers Harmodius and Aristogiton, who had slain Hippar¬
chus. But they were still unhappy, for their enemies
triumphed.
I C A.
“ They next joined Antony, w-ho gave them iEgina Attica
and Cea, with other islands. Augustus was unkind to '—-A
them •, and they revolted four years before he died.
Under Tiberius the city was declining, but free, and
regarded as an ally of the Bomans. The high privi¬
lege of having a lictor to precede the magistrates was
conferred on it by Germanicus $ but he was censured as
treating with too much condescension a mixture of na¬
tions, instead of genuine Athenians^ which race was
then considered as extinct.
“ The emperor Vespasian reduced Achaia to a pro¬
vince paying tribute and governed by a proconsul.
Nerva was more propitious to the Athenians; and Pli¬
ny, under Trajan his successor, exhorts Maximus to be
mindful whither he was sent, to rule genuine Greece,
a state composed of free cities. ‘ You will revere the
gods and heroes their founders. You will respect their
pristine glory, and even their age. You will honour
them for the famous deeds, which are truly, nay for
those which are fabulously, recorded of them. Be-
member, it is Athens you approach.’ This city was
now entirely dependent on Borne, and was reduced to
sell Delos and the islands in its possession.
“ Hadrian, who was at once emperor and an archon
of Athens, gave the city laws, compiled from Draco,
Solon, and the codes of other legislators } and displayed
his affection for it by unbounded liberality. Athens
reflourished, and its beauty was renewed. Antoninus
Pius who succeeded, and Antoninus the Philosopher,
were both benefactors.
“ The barbarians of the north, in the reign of Vale¬
rian, besieging Thessalonica, all Greece was terri¬
fied, and the Athenians restored their city wall, which
had been dismantled by Sylla, and afterwards ne¬
glected.
“ Under the next emperor, who was the archon Gal-
lienus, Athens^was besieged, the archontic office ceas¬
ed } and the strataegus or general, who had before
acted as overseer of the agora or market, then became
the supreme magistrate. Under Claudius his successor,
the city was taken, but soon recovered. ,
“ It is related, that Constantine, when emperor,
gloried in the title general of Athens ; and rejoiced
exceedingly on obtaining from the people the honour
of a statue with an inscription, which he acknowledged
by an yearly gratuity of many bushels of grain. He
conferred on the governor of Attica and Athens the
title of grand duke, psyoui ^ov^. That office was at first
annual, but afterwards hereditary. His son Constans
bestowed several islands on the city, to supply it with
corn.
“ In the time of Theodosius I. 380 years after Christ,
the Goths laid rvaste Thessaly and Epirus; but Theo¬
dore, general of the Achseans, by his prudent conduct
preserved the cities of Greece from pillage, and the in¬
habitants from being led into captivity. A statue of
marble was erected to him at Athens by order of the
city ; and afterwards one of brass, by command of the
emperor, as appears by an inscription in a church de¬
dicated to a saint of the same name, not far from the
French convent. It is on a round pedestal, which sup¬
ports a flat stone serving for the holy table. Eudocia
the wife of Theodosius II. was an Athenian. ^
“ I he fatal period now approached, and Athens jy Ala®
was about to experience a conqueror more savage even the G0^
than
ATT
|gjca> than Sylla. Tliis was Alaric king of the Goths : who,
M—i under the emperors Arcatlius and Horiorius, overran
Greece and Italy, sacking, pillaging, and destroying.
Then the Peloponnesian towns were overturned, Arca¬
dia and Lacedaemon were laid waste, the two seas by
the isthmus were burnished with the flames of Corinth,
and the Athenian matrons were dragged in chains by
barbarians. The invaluable treasures of antiquity, it is
related, were removed j the stately and magnificent
structures converted into piles of ruin ; and Athens was
stripped of every thing splendid or remarkable. Syne-
sius, a writer of that age, compares the city to a victim
of which the body had been consumed, and the hide
only remained.
“ After this event, Athens became an unimportant
place, and as obscure as it once had been famous. We
read that the cities of Hellas were put into a state of
defence by Justinian, who repaired the walls, which at
Corinth had been subverted by an earthquake, and at
Athens and in Bceotia were impaired by age $ and here
we take a long farewell of this city. A chasm of near
700 years endues in its history, except that, about the
year XI30, it furnished Roger the first king of Sicily
with a number of artificers, whom he settled at Palermo,
where they introduced the culture of silk, which then
passed into Italy. The worms had been brought from
India to Constantinople in the reign of Justinian.
“ Athens, as it rvere, re-emerges from oblivion in
the 13th century, under Baldwin, but besieged by a
general of Theodorus Lascaris, the Greek emperor.
It was taken in 1427 by Sultan Morat. Boniface, mar¬
quis of Montferrat, possessed it with a garrison j after
whom it was governed by Delves of the house of Ar-
ragon. On his death, it was seized, with Macedonia,
Thessaly, Boeotia, Phocis, and the Peloponnesus, by
Bajazet 5 and then, with the island Zante, by the Spa¬
niards of Catalonia in the reign of the Greek emperor
Andronicus Palseologus the elder. These were dispos¬
sessed byReinerius Acciaioli, a Florentine; who,leaving
no legitimate male issue, bequeathed it to the state of Ve¬
nice. His natural son, Antony, to whom he had given
Thebes with Boeotia, expelled the Venetians. He was
succeeded in the dukedom by his kinsman Nerius, who
was displaced by his own brother named dntomj, but
recovered the government when he died. Nerius, lea¬
ving only an infant son, was succeeded by his wife. She
was ejected by Mahomet on a complaint from Francus
son of the second Antony, who confined her at Me-
gara, and made away with her ; but her son accusing
Sytl him to Mahomet the Second, the Turkish army under
'ink Omar advanced, and he surrendered the citadel in 1455 j
the Latins refusing to succour him unless the Athe¬
nians would embrace their religious tenets. Mahomet,
it is related, when he had finished the war with the
despot of the Morea, four years after, surveyed the city
and Acropolis with admiration. The janizaries informed
him of a conspiracy; and Francus Acciaioli, who re¬
mained lord of Bceotia, was put to death. In 1464 the
Venetians landed at the Piraeus, surprised the city, and
- carried off their plunder and captives to Euboea.
“ It is remarkable, that after these events Athens was
again in a manner forgotten. So lately as about the
middle of the 16th century, the city was commonly be¬
lieved to have been utterly destroyed, and not to exist,
except a few hqts of poor fishermen. Crusius, a learned
I C A. 247
and inquisitive German, procured more authentic in- Attica,
formation from his Greek correspondents residing in v —
Turkey, which he published in 1584, to awaken curio¬
sity and to prompt farther discoveries. One of these
letters is from a native of Naupiia, a town near Argos
in the Morea. This writer says that he had been olten
at Athens, and that it still contained many things wor¬
thy to be seen, some of which be enumerates, and then
subjoins ; “ But why do I dwell on this place ? It is as
the skin of an animal which has been long dead.”
It now remains to give some idea of the charac¬
ter, government, and religion of this once so famous
people. _ .
The Athenians, says Plutarch, are very subject to character
violent anger ; but they are soon pacified. They are 0f the an-
likewise easily impressed with humanity and compassion, cient Athe-
That this was their temper, is proved by many lustori-nians*
cal examples. We shall produce a few. The sentence
of death pronounced against the inhabitants of Mity-
lene, and revoked the next day : The condemnation
of Socrates, and that of the ten chiefs, each followed
by quick repentance and most pungent grief.
The minds of the same people, adds Plutarch, are
not formed for laborious researches. They seize a sub¬
ject, as it were, by intuition ; they have not patience
and phlegm enough to examine it gradually and mi¬
nutely. This part of their character may seem sur¬
prising and incredible. Artisans, and other people
of their rank, are in general slow of comprehension.
But the Athenians of every degree were endowed
with an inconceivable vivacity, penetration, and deli¬
cacy of taste. Even the Athenian soldiers could re¬
peat the fine passages of the tragedies of Euripides.
Those artisans and those soldiers assisted at public de¬
bates, were bred to political affairs, and were equally
acute in apprehension and in judgment. We may in¬
fer the understanding of the hearers of Demosthenes
from the genius of his orations, which were laconic and
poignant.
As their inclination, continues Plutarch, leads them
to assist and support people of low condition, they like
discourse seasoned with pleasantry, and productive of
mirth. The Athenians patronize people of low de¬
gree ; because from them their liberty is in no clanger,
and because such patronage tends to support a derno-
cratical constitution. They love pleasantry ; which
turn of mind proves that they are a humane social
people, who have a taste for raillery and wit, and are
not soured with that reserve which marks the despot or
the slave.
They take pleasure in hearing themselves praised ;
but they can likewise patiently bear raillery and cen¬
sure. We know with what art and success Aristo¬
phanes and Demosthenes applied their praise and their
irony to the Athenian people. When the republic
enjoyed peace, says the same Plutarch in another
place, it encouraged the adulation of its orators : but
when it had important affairs to discuss, when the
state was in danger, it became serious; and preferred
to its eloquent sycophants, the honest orators who
opposed its follies and its vices ; such ingenious and
bold patriots as a Pericles, a Phocion, and a Demos¬
thenes.
The Athenians, continues Plutarch, often make
their governors tremble, and show great humanity to
their v
24B
ATT
Attica, tlieir enemies. They were very attentive to the infer-
—y~—' mation and instruction of those citizens who were most
eminent for their policy and eloquence *, but they were
on their guard against the superiority of their talents 5
they often checked their boldness, and repressed their
exuberant reputation and glory. T-hat this was their
temper, we are convinced by the ostracism : which was
established to restrain the ambition of those who had
great talents and influence, and which spared neither
the greatest nor the best men. he detestation of ty¬
ranny and of tyrants, which was inherent in the Athe¬
nians, rendered them extremely jealous of their privi¬
leges, made them zealous and active in defence of their
liberty, whenever they thought it was violated by men
in power.
As to their enemies, they did not treat them with
rigour. They did not abuse victory by a brutal inhu¬
manity to the vanquished. The act of amnesty, which
they passed after the usurpation of the 30 tyrants,
proves that they could easily forgive injuries. It was
this mildness, this humanity of disposition, which made
the Athenians so attentive to the rules of politeness
and decorum. In their war with Philip, having sei¬
zed one of his courtiers, they read all the letters he
bore, except one from Olympias to her husband,
which they sent back unopened. Such was their ve¬
neration of love and conjugal secrecy j those sacred
rights, which no enmity, no hostility, warrants us to
violate 1
The views of conquest cherished by a small republic,
were extensive and astonishing ; but this people, so
great, so ambitious in their projects, were, in other
respects, of a different character. In the expences of
the table, in dress, in furniture, in houses, in short, in
private life, they were frugal, simple, modest, poor;
but sumptuous and magnificent whenever the ho¬
nour of the state was concerned. Their conquests,
their victories, their riches, their connections with
the inhabitants of Asia Minor, never reduced them to
luxury, to riot, to pomp, to profusion. Xenophon
remarks, that a citizen was not distinguished from a
slave by his dress. The wealthiest citizen, the most
renowned general, was not ashamed to go himself to
market.
The taste of the Athenians, for all the arts and sci¬
ences, is well known. When they had delivered them¬
selves from the tyranny of Pisistratus, and after this had
defeated the vast efforts of the Persians, they may be
considered as at the summit of their national glory.
For more than half a century afterwards they main¬
tained, without controul, the sovereignty of Greece ;
and that ascendant produced a security, which left
their minds at ease, and gave them leisure to cultivate
every thing liberal or elegant. It was then that Peri¬
cles adorned the city with temples, theatres, and other
beautiful public buildings. Phidias, the great sculp¬
tor, was employed as his architect, who, when he had
erected edifices, adorned them himself, and added sta¬
tues and basso-relievos, the admiration of every be¬
holder. It was then that Polignotus and Myro paint¬
ed ; that Sophocles and Euripides wrote j and not long
after, that they saw the divine Socrates.
Human affairs are, by nature, prone to change $
and states, as well as individuals, are born to decay.
Jealousy and ambition insensibly fomented wars, and
I C A.'
success in these wars, as in others, was often various.
The military strength of the Athenians was first im¬
paired by the Lacedaemonians ; after that it was again
humiliated, under Epaminondas, by the Thebans : and
last of all it was wholly crushed by the Macedonian
Philip.
Nor, when their political sovereignty was lost, did
their love of literature and the arts sink along with it.
Just at the close of their golden days of empire flou¬
rished Xenophon and Plato, the disciples of Socrates 5
and from Plato descended that race of philosophers
called the Old Academy. Aristotle, who was Plato’s
disciple, may be said not to have invented a new phi¬
losophy, but rather to have tempered the sublime and
rapturous mysteries of his master with method, order,
and a stricter mode of reasoning. Zeno, who was
himself also educated in the principles of Platonism,
only differed from Plato in the comparative estimate
of things, allowing nothing to be intrinsically good but
virtue, nothing intrinsically bad but vice, and consi¬
dering all other things to be in themselves indifferent.
He too and Aristotle accurately cultivated logic, but
in different ways ; for Aristotle chiefly dwelt upon
the simple syllogism } Zeno upon that which is derived
out of it, the compound or hypothetic. Both too, as
well as other philosophers, cultivated rhetoric along
with logic j holding a knowledge in both to be requi¬
site for those who think of addressing mankind with all
the efficacy of persuasion. Zeno elegantly illustrated
the force of these twTo powers by a simile taken from
the hand : the close power of logic he compared to the
fist, or hand comprest: the diffuse power of logic, to
the palm, or hand open.
The new academy was founded by Arcesilas, and
ably maintained by Carneades. From a mistaken imi¬
tation of the great parent of philosophy Socrates (par¬
ticularly as he appears in the dialogues of Plato), be¬
cause Socrates doubted some things, therefore Arcesilas
and Carneades doubted all.—Epicurus drew from an¬
other source } Democritus had taught him atoms and a
void : by the fortuitous concourse of atoms he fancied
he could form a world j while by a feigned veneration
he complimented away his gods, and totally denied
their providential care, lest the trouble of it should im¬
pair their uninterrupted state of bliss. Virtue he re¬
commended, though not for the sake of virtue, but
pleasure ; pleasure, according to him, being our chief
and sovereign good. See Aristotle, Epicurus,
Plato, Socrates, &c.
We have already mentioned the alliance between
philosophy and rhetoric. This cannot be thought won¬
derful, if rhetoric be the art by which men are per¬
suaded, and if men cannot be persuaded without a
knowledge of human nature : for what but philosophy
can procure us this knowledge ? It was for this reason
the ablest Greek philosophers not only taught, but wrote
also treatises upon rhetoric. They had a farther induce¬
ment, and that was the intrinsic beauty of their lan¬
guage as it was then spoken among the learned and po¬
lite. They would have been ashamed to have deliver¬
ed philosophy, as it has been too often delivered since,
in compositions as clumsy as the common dialect of the
mere vulgar.
The same love of elegance, which made them at¬
tend to their style, made them attend even to the pla¬
ces
Attica,
ATT
itica. ccs where their philosophy was taught. Plato deli¬
vered his lectures in a place shaded with groves, on the
hanks of the river Ilissus •, and which, as it once be¬
longed to a person called Academus, was called after
his name, the Academy. Aristotle chose another spot
ol a similar character, where there were trees and shade 5
a spot called the Lyceum. Zeno taught in a portico
or colonnade, distinguished from other buildings of that
sort (of which the Athenians had manv) by the name
of the Variegated Portico, the walls being decorated
with various paintings of Polygnotus and Myro, two
capital masters of that transcendant period. Epicurus
addressed his hearers in those well known gardens, call¬
ed, after his own name, The gardens of Epicurus.
These places of public institution were called among
the Greeks by the name of Gymnasia; in which, what¬
ever that word might have originally meant, wei’e
taught all those exercises, and all those arts, which
tended to cultivate not only the body but the mind.
As man was a being consisting of both, the Greeks
could not consider that education as complete, in which
both were not regarded, and both properly formed.
Hence their Gymnasia, with reference to this double
end, were adorned with two statues, those of Mercury
and of Hercules, the corporeal accomplishments being
patronized (as they supposed) by the god of strength,
the mental accomplishments by the god of ingenuity.
It was for the cultivation of every liberal accom¬
plishment that Athens was celebrated (as we have
said) during many centuries, long after her political
influence was lost and at an end.
She was the place of education, not only for Greeks
but for Romans. It was hither that Horace was sent
by his father j it was here that Cicero put his son Mar¬
cus under Cratippus, one of the ablest philosophers
then belonging to that city. The sects of philoso¬
phers which we have already described, were still ex¬
isting when St 1 aul came thither. We cannot enough
admire the superior eloquence of that apostle, in his
manner of addressing so intelligent an audience. We
cannot enough admire the sublimity of his exordium ;
the propriety of his mentioning an altax which he had
found there ; and his quotation from Aratus, .one of
their well known poets. Nor was Athens only cele¬
brated for the residence of philosophers, and the insti¬
tution of youth : men of rank and fortune found plea¬
sure in a retreat, which contributed so much to their
liberal enjoyment.
We shall finish this picture of the Athenians by the
addition of one object more, to which every one" will
admit they have a right; an object which was promi¬
nent and striking, in all their actions and in all their
enterprises: We mean their ardent love of liberty.
Tins was their predominant quality j the main spring
of their government. From the beginning of the Pe£
sian war, they sacrificed every thing to the liberty of
Greece. They left, without hesitation, their cities,
their houses, to fight at sea the common enemy, from
whom they were in danger of servitude. What a glo¬
mus day was it for Athens, when all her allies, growing
flexible to the advantageous offers which were made
to them by the king of Persia, she replied by Aristides,
to the ambassadors of that monarch,—“ That it was
impossible for all the gold in the world to tempt the re¬
public of Athens : to prevail with her to sell her liher-
Vol, HI. Part I. i
I C A.
ty, and that of Greece.” ft was by these generous
sentiments that the Athenians not only became the
bulwark of Greece, but likewise guarded the rest of
Europe from a Persian invasion.
249
Attica.
Ihese great qualities were blended with great fail¬
ings, seemingly incompatible with patriotism. For the
Athenians, notwithstanding their tenacious jealousy of
the rights of their country, were a volatile, inconstant,
capricious people.
^ Ihere never was a people more attentive to the wor-Religion,
snip of the gods than the Athenians. The worship of
then principal deities wras diffused over all Greece, and
even beyond its limits.
Each temple had its particular religious rites : the
pomp, the ceremonies, the duration, and the succes¬
sion of the solemn feasts were all appointed by fixed
rules. I he worship paid to each divinity, whether
public or private, w'as founded on traditions, or on laws
constantly obeyed. The feast of Bacchus, the Pana-
thenaea, the feast of the mysteries of Eleusis, were ce¬
lebrated according to established rules, most of which
were as ancient as the feasts themselves. The old cu¬
stoms, of which the priests were the guardians, were
observed in the temples. It is probable that the priests
were consulted on affairs in which the worship of a
deity was interested, and that their answ'er was decisive.
Me are certain that the Eumolpidae had this authority.
They were the interpreters of the ancient laws on which
the worship of Ceres was founded, its magnificence,
and its mode—laws which were not written, as Lysias
informs us, but were perpetuated by a constant observa¬
tion. The abuses which had gradually crept into the
celebration of those feasts, had given rise to several new
regulations ; to that of the orator Lycurgus, for ex¬
ample, and to the law of Solon, which enjoined the
senate to-repair to Eleusis on the second day of the
feast : but neither these, nor the other particular regu¬
lations which we find in Samuel Petit’s collection of
Attic laws, could make a religious code. There was no
general system which comprehended all the branches
of their religion, which, by combining all its articles,
might regulate their belief and conduct, and direct the
judges in their decisions. lSr
Crimes against religion were only punished as they Crimes a~
affected the state; and consequently they were tried bySainst bli¬
the magistrate. Mere raillery, though somewhat pro-£l0n’
fane, was thought productive ol no worse consequence
than offending the ministers of the gods. The Athe-with seve-
mans acknowledged no other religion than the heredi-rity.
tary public worship; no other gods than those they
nad received from their ancestors; no other ceremonies
but those which had been established by the laws of
the state, and practised by their country from time im¬
memorial. They were only solicitous to preserve this
worship, which was closely interwoven with their go¬
vernment, and made a part of its policy. They were
likewise attentive to the ceremonial pomp; because or¬
der, the regular vigour of legislation, depends greatly
on the awe impressed by externals. But as to the in¬
consistent and monstrous romance of fable, foreign opi¬
nions, popular traditions, and poetical fictions, which
formed a religion quite different from that of the state
—in it they were very little interested, and allowed
every one to think of it as he pleased.
This explanation will reconcile a seeming contradic-
^ ^ tioa
250 ATT
Attica, tion in the conduct of the Athenians, who gave great
license to their poets, and severely punished the ci¬
tizens who were guilty of impiety. Aristophanes,
who made as free with the gods as with the great, was
applauded by the Athenians. They condemned So¬
crates to death, who revered the Deity, but disapproved
the public manner of worshipping him. The life of
j'Eschylus was in danger, from a suspicion that he had
revealed some of the secrets of Eleusis in one of his
pieces. The wit of Aristophanes’s drama was unpu¬
nished.
The priests were not confined to the care of the al¬
tars; they who were vested with the sacerdotal dignity,
which was only incompatible with professions merely
useful and lucrative, might likewise hold the most im¬
portant offices of the commonwealth. This we could
prove by a great number of examples ; we shall cite that
of Xenophon the illustrious historian and philosopher: he
was likewise a famous general, and he was a priest. He
was performing the sacerdotal function when he received
the news of his son’s death, who was killed at the battle
of Mantinea.
The sacred ministry was not only compatible with
civil offices, but likewise with the profession of arms.
The priest and the soldier were often blended. Cal-
lias, the priest of Ceres, fought at Platsea. This cu¬
stom was not peculiar to the Athenians. The La¬
cedaemonians, after the battle which we have just men¬
tioned, made three graves for their slain ; one for the
priests, one for the other Spartans, and one for the
Helots.
As the ordinary business of life was incompatible
venues, See. with the sacerdotal dignity, the priests had a revenue
fixed to their office. We know that a part of the vic¬
tims was their right, and that apartments were assigned
them near the temples. But, besides these advantages,
they had a salary proportioned to the dignity of their
functions, and to the rank of the deities whom they
served. Their salary was probably paid from the re¬
venue of the temples. 'Those revenues, which kept the
temples in repair, and defrayed the sacrificial expences,
were very considerable. They were of many different
kinds.
A great part of the sacred revenues arose from fines,
which individuals were condemned to pay for various
ollences ; fines, of which the tenth part was appro¬
priated to Minerva Polias, and the fiftieth to the other
gods, and to the heroes whose names their tribes bore.
Besides, if the Prytanes did not hold the assemblies
conformably with the laws, they were obliged to pay
a fine of 1000 drachms to the goddess. If the Proe-
dri, i. e. the senators whose office it was to lay before
the assembly the matters on which they were to delibe¬
rate, did not discharge that duty according to the rules
prescribed to them, they were likewise condemned to pay
a fine, which, as the former, was applied to the use of
Minerva. By these fines her temple must have been
greatly enriched.
Besides this revenue, which was the common pro¬
perty ot the gods, and which varied according to the
number and degrees of the misdemeanours, the temples
had their permanent revenues : We mean the produce
of the lands which were consecrated to the deities.
We do not here allude to the lands consecrated to the
gods, which were never to be cultivated : such as the
3
I C A.
territory of Cirrha, proscribed by a solemn decree of Attica
the Amphictyons ; the land betwixt Megara and At- -—y-—
tica, which was consecrated to the goddesses of Eleu¬
sis, and many others. We would speak only of those
which were cultivated, the fruits of which enriched the
temples.
There were likewise lands belonging to the state, the
produce of which was destined to defray the expence of
the sacrifices which were offered in the name of the re¬
public. There were likewise first fruits which the pub¬
lic officers levied on all lands, for the use of the gods.
All these emoluments made a part of the revenue of the
temples.
The gods, besides the revenues immediately apper¬
taining to their temples, had gertain rights which were
granted them by particular compact. The Lepreatse,
for instance, were obliged to pay every year a talent to
Olympian Jupiter, on account of a treaty of alliance
which they made with the Eleans in one of their wars.
The inhabitants of Epidaurus, to obtain leave from
the Athenians to cut down olive-trees for statues,
which the Pythian priestess had commanded them to
make, engaged to send deputies every year to Athens,
to oft’er sacrifices in their name to Minerva and to Nep¬
tune. But this prerogative was rather honorary than
lucrative.
The tenth part of the spoils taken in war was like¬
wise the property of Minerva. Sacred vessels were
bought with the eftects of the 30 tyrants. In short,
the gods were profited by almost every public accident.
But what contributed most to enrich the famous tem¬
ples of Greece, was the money which was constantly
brought to them by individuals, in consequence of
vows they had made, or to pay for sacrifices which
were offered in their names. The credulity of the
people was an inexhaustible fund. That credulity en¬
riched the temples of Delos and Eleusis, and supported
the magnificence of Delphi. And those immense trea¬
sures which were the fruit of superstition, were often a
prey to avarice.
These revenues were not deposited with the priests;
nor did they expend them. A moderate salary was all
their gain ; and to offer sacrifices to the deities whose
ministers they were, was all their employment.
It is very probable that all the sacred revenues were
paid into the hands of officers who were appointed to
receive them, and who were to give an account of the
discharge of their trust. Nay, we cannot doubt of
this, after reading a passage in Aristotle, who, speak¬
ing of the officers ot the temples, expressly mentions
those who are intrusted with the money appertaining to
the gods. Citizens, without doubt, of approved inte¬
grity, were chosen to this office ; and their duty must
have been, to keep the temples in repair and order, and
to disburse and keep an account of the ordinary sacred
expences.
As to the solemn (easts, which were incredibly mag¬
nificent, such as the feast of Bacchus, and the Pana-
thenaea, they were celebrated at the expence of the
choregus ; i. e. ot the chief of the choir of each tribe ;
for each tribe had its poet and its musicians, who sung,
emulating each other, hymns in honour of the deity.
1 he richest citizens were appointed chiefs of the dif¬
ferent choirs ; and as their office was very expensive,
to indemnify them in some degree, the choregus of
1 Si
Priests,
tjieir duty
153
Sacred re-
ATT
y uica. Victorious tribe had the privilege of engraving his
■‘-V—^ name on the tripod which that tribe suspended to the
roof of the temple. Ihis office, though ruinous, was
eagerly solicited j and naturally, in a republican state.
It led to honours, like the curule dignity at Rome ;
and it greatly tended to ingratiate its possessor with a
people who were more affected with pleasures than
with essential services, and who, consequently, would
more highly esteem a profuse choregus than a victo¬
rious general.
With regard to the fines, which were in the whole, or
in part, the property of Minerva and of the other deities,
there were at Athens public treasurers appointed to re¬
ceive them. They were ten in number, and they were
nominated by lot. They were called Treasurers of the
goddess, or Receivers of the sacred money. That money
they received in the presence of the senate j and they
were empowered to diminish or to annihilate the fine, if
they thought it unjust. The statue of Minerva, that of
the Victories, and the other invaluable pledges of the
duration of the state, were deposited with them.
The treasury in which the money consecrated to the
gods was kept, was in the citadel, behind the temple
of Minerva Polias; and from its situation it was termed
Opisthodomus. It was surrounded wiih a double wall.
It had but one door, the key of which was kept by the
Lpistates, or chief of the Prytanes: his dignity was
very considerable; but it lasted only one day. In this
treasury a register was kept, in which were written
the names of all those who were indebted to the state ;
he who owed the smallest fine was not omitted. If the
debtors proved insolvent, they were prosecuted with ex¬
treme rigour, and often punished with a cruelty which
religion could not excuse ; though the interest of the
gods was the motive, or rather the pretext. The sa¬
cred treasurers held a considerable rank among the ma¬
gistrates who received the public finances. Of these
magistrates there were many kinds, as there were many
*orts of revenues.
The Athenian priests did not compose an order di¬
stinct and separate from the other orders of the state.
1 hey did not form a body united by particular laws,
under a chief whose authority extended to all his infe¬
riors. The dignity of sovereign pontiff was unknown
at Athens; and each of the priests served his particular
' temple, unconnected with his brethren. The temples,
indeed, of the principal deities ; those of Minerva, for
instance, of Neptune, of Ceres, and of Proserpine, had
many ministers; and in each of them a chief presided,
who had the title of High Priest. The number of sub¬
altern ministers was in proportion to the rank of the
deity ; but the priests of one temple were altogether a
separate society from those of another. Thus at Athens
there was a great number of high priests, because many
deities were worshipped there, whose service required
many ministers. 1 he power of each priest was confined
to his temple ; and there was no sovereign pontiff, the
minister general of the gods, and the president at all the
feasts.
It naturally follows from this account, that the mi¬
nisters of the gods at Athens were not judges in matters
of religion. J hey were neither authorized to take
cognizance of crimes committed against the deity, nor
to punish them. Their function was to offer sacrifices
to the gods, and to entreat their acceptance of the
I C A. 251
adorations of the people. But the punishinent of impie- Attica,
tv, of sacrilege, of the profanation of mysteries, and of '—1—v—
other irreligious crimes, was not entrusted to their zeal.
I he priests were not only incapable of avenging
crimes against religion by a criminal process ; they
even could not, without an express order either from
the senate or the people, exercise their right of de¬
voting criminals to the infernal gods. It was in con¬
sequence of a civil sentence pronounced against Alci-
biades, that the Eumolpidse launched their anathema
against him. It was in virtue of another decree that
they revoked their imprecations, when his countrymen
wanted his service, and therefore restored him to their
favour.
Religious causes, according to M. de Bougainville,
fell under the jurisdiction of the Heliastee.
I he government, though often altered, continued
pretty much on the plan established by Solon. 1S4
I he people of Athens w'ere freemen, sojourners, or People di¬
slaves. The citizens, called in Greek Politai, were ve-v'Ae^
ry numerous; but what may seem strange, were as ma-
ny in the time of Cecrops as in the most flourishing
state of the commonwealth, hardly ever exceeding
20,000. It was Solon who decreed that none should be
accounted free but such as were Athenians both by fa¬
ther and mother. After his time it fell into desuetude,
till revived by Pericles ; and was again at his instance
repealed. After the expulsion of the 30 tyrants, Solon’s
law was restored. A person born of a stranger was
styled Nothos, a bastard ; whereas the son of a free wo¬
man was called Cnesios, i. e. legitimate. There was in
Cynosarges a court of judicature, to which causes of il¬
legitimacy properly belonged; and the utmost care
was taken to prevent any from being enrolled Athe¬
nian citizens, who bad not a clear title thereto. The
citizens were divided by Cecrops into four tribes : the
first called Cecropes, from Cecrops ; the second, Au¬
tochthon, from a king of that name; the third, Actai,
from Acteus, another king of Athens, or rather from
Acte, which signifies a shore; the fourth, Puralia:
these names were altered by Cranaus, and agajn by
Ericthonius. In the reign of Erictheus, they were
again changed; the soldiers were called Ohlitai, the
craftsmen Ergatai, the farmers Georgoi, the graziers
and shepherds Adgicorai.: in this state they were when
Solon settled the commonwealth,'and appointed the se¬
nate to be composed of 400, 100 out of each tribe.
Clystbenes increased the number of the tribes to ten ;
and made the senate consist of 500, taking 50 out of
each tribe. In succeeding times, two other tribes were
added. Each tribe was subdivided into its Demoi or
wards : and with respect to these it was that Solon in¬
stituted the public feasts before-mentioned, at which
sometimes the whole tribe assembled, sometimes several
wards, and sometimes only the inhabitants of one ward.
The second sort of inhabitants we mentioned were
called Metoicoi, i. e. sojourners; these were persons
who lived always at Athens, yet were not admitted
free denizens : as for such as did not constantly reside
in Athens, they were styled Xenoi; i. e. strangers.
The sojourners were obliged to choose out of the citi¬
zens protectors, who were styled Patrons ; they paid
services to the state, and besides these an annual tribute
of ^2 drachms for every man, and six for every wo¬
man ; but such as had sons, and paid for them, were
I i 2 exempted;
252 ATT
Attica, exempted. If people fell to poverty, and were not
"v—able to pay the tribute, they were seized by the tax-
masters, and actually sold for slaves •, which, as Dio¬
genes Laertius tells us, was the fate of Xenocrates the
philosopher. The sojourners in Attica were under the
same law as those in Athens. As to servants, they
were freemen, who through indigency were driven to
receive wages, and while they were in this state had no
vote in the assembly. As to slaves, they were abso¬
lutely the property of their masters, and as such were
used as they thought fit: They were forbidden to wear
clothes, or to cut their hair like their masters 5 and,
which is indeed amazing, Solon prohibited them to
love boys, as if that had been honourable : They were
likewise debarred from anointing or perfuming them¬
selves, and from worshipping certain deities : They
were not allowed to be called by honourable names j
and in most other respects were used like dogs. They
stigmatized them at their pleasure, that is, branded
them with letters in the forehead and elsewhere. How¬
ever, Theseus’s temple was allowed them as a sanctuary,
whither, if they were exceedingly ill used, they might
fly, and thereby oblige their owners to let them be
transferred to another master. In this and many other
respects the Athenian slaves were in a much better con¬
dition than those throughout the rest of Greece : they
wrere permitted to get estates for themselves, giving a
small premium to their masters, who were obliged to
make them free if they could pay their ransom *, thev
likewise obtained the same favour from the kindness of
their masters, or for having rendered military services
to the states. When they were made free, they were
obliged to choose patrons 5 and had likewise the privi¬
lege of choosing a curator, who, in case their patrons
jg- injured them, was bound to defend them.
General as- The general assembly of the people, which Solon
sembly of made the dernier resort, was called the Ecclesia ; and
the people. cons;sted of all the freemen of Athens, excepting such
as were atimoi or infamous. The meetings of these as¬
semblies were either ordinary or extraordinary. The
ordinary were such as were appointed by law, the ex¬
traordinary such as necessity required. Of the first
there were four in 35 days. In the first assembly they
approved or rejected magistrates, heard proposals for
the public good, and certain causes. In the second
they received petitions, and heard every man’s judge¬
ment on the matters that were before them. In the
third they gave audience to foreign ambassadors. The
fourth was employed altogether in affairs relating to
the gods and their worship. The extraordinary meet¬
ings were appointed by the magistrates when occasion
required, whereas to the ordinary assemblies the peo¬
ple came of their own accord. The first were held ei¬
ther in the market-place, in the Pnyx a place near the
citadel, or in the theatre of Bacchus : as to the latter,
the magistrates who appointed the extraordinary meet-
ing appointed also the place where it should be held.
If any sudden tempest rose, or any earthquake hap¬
pened, or any sign notoriously inauspicious appeared,
the assembly was immediately adjourned, to prevent the
people from apprehending unhappy consequences from
their deliberations. But if the weather was fair and
serene, and nothing.happened out of the ordinary course
of things, they proceeded to purify the place where
the assembly was held, which was done by sprinkling
2
I C A.
it round with the blood of young pigs ; then the crier Attica,
made a solemn prayer for the prosperity of the republic,'y—.
and that heaven would bestow a happy issue on their
counsels and undertakings : he then pronounced a bit¬
ter execration against any who should in that assembly
propound what might be disadvantageous to the state.
Those ceremonies being over, they proceeded to busi-
ness' . 1%
There were several magistrates wdio had the oversee- Method of j
ing and regulating these assemblies. These were, first, giving their
the Epistate, or president of the assembly, who was0P*ni°ns*
chosen by lot out of the Proedri: his office was to give
the signal for the people’s voting. Next to him were
the Prytanes, i. e. a committee of the senate, who of
course were present on this occasion : by their order a
programma, or scheme of the business to be proposed
at the assembly, was previously set up in some public
place, that every man might know what business to
apply liis thoughts to. The Proedri were nine in num¬
ber, appointed by lots out of all the tribes to which the
Prytanes did not belong : they had the right of pro¬
posing to the people what they w'ere to deliberate up¬
on, and their office ended with the assembly j there
sat with them assessors, who were to take care that
nothing they proposed was detrimental to the common¬
wealth. The first step to business was the crier’s read¬
ing the decree of the senate whereon the assembly was
to deliberate j when he had finished this, he made pro¬
clamation in these words : Who of the men above 50
will make an oration .§ When the old men had done
speaking, the crier made proclamation again that any
Athenian might then offer his sentiments, whom the
law allowed so to do ; that is, all such as were above
30 years old, and were not infamous. If such a one
rose up to speak, the Prytanes interposed, and bid him
be silent and if he did not obey them, the lictors pull¬
ed him down by force. When the debates were over,
the president permitted the people to vote; which they
did by casting first beans, but in after times pebbles,
into certain vessels: these were counted, and then it
was declared that the decree of the senate was either
rejected or approved: after which, the Prytanes dis¬
missed the assembly.
The senate was instituted by Solon to prevent theThesenate.
dangerous consequences of leaving the supreme power
in the people. At the time of his institution, it was to
consist of 400, 100 out of each tribe ; it was increased
to 500, when the tribes were augmented to 10 j and
when they came to 12, it was also swelled to 600.
They were elected by lots after this manner: At a day
appointed, towards the close of the year, the president
of each tribe gave in a list of such persons belonging
thereto, as were fit for and desired to appear for this
dignity : these names were engx-aven on tables of brass,
and a number of beans equal to the number of the
amount of them, among which were 100 white ones,
put into a vessel •, and then the names of the candidates
and the beans were drawrn one by one, and such as
were drawn by the white beans were received into the
senate. After the senate was elected, they proceeded
to appoint the officers who were to preside in the se¬
nate : these were the Prytanes before mentioned j and
they were elected thus : The names of the ten tribes
were thrown into one vessel, and nine black beans and
a white one into another vessel. Then the names of the
tribes
A T T
tribes were drawn with tlie beans. The tribe to which
■ 1‘a^f'a' , the white bean answered, presided first j and the rest
according to the order in which they were drawn.
] tunes P»Ttanes> while the senate consisted of 500,
were 50 in number. For the farther avoiding of con¬
fusion, therefore, 10 of these presided a week, during
which space they were called Proedri', and out of these
an Epistate or president was chosen, whose office lasted
but one day, and by law no man could hold it more
than once : the reason of this was, that he had in his
custody the public seal, the keys of the citadel, and the
charge of the exchequer. The reader must distinguish
between the Epistates and Proedri last mentioned, and
those spoken of in the former paragraph, because, though
their titles were the same, their offices were perfectly di¬
stinct. The senate assembled by direction of the Pry-
tanes once every day, excepting festivals, and some¬
times oftener, in the senate-house, which was thence calk
ed Pnjtaneum.
] ws how When a member of the senate made a motion for a
< iblished, new law, it was immediately engraven on tablets, that
Vf the members when they came next might be prepared
to speak to it. At the subsequent assembly the Epi¬
states opened the matter; after which every senator
that pleased delivered his sentiments 5 then any of the
Prytanes drew up the decree, and repeated it aloud :
after which they proceeded to vote $ and if there was
a majority of white beans, then it became psephisma,
and w^as afterwards propounded to the people : if they
approved it, it became a law } otherwise it was of no
force longer than the senate who decreed it subsisted.
The power of the senate was very great; for they took
the account of magistrates at the expiration of their of¬
fices \ they directed the provisions made for poor citi¬
zens out of the public treasure j they had the superin¬
tendency of public prisons, and a power of punishing ■
such as committed acts morally evil, though not prohi¬
bited by any Iawr 5 they had the care likewise of the
fleet 5 and besides all these they had many other branches
of authority, which it is not necessary for us to men¬
tion. Before they took their seats, they were con¬
strained to undergo a very strict examination, wherein
the whole course of their lives was inquired into ; and
if the least slur on their reputation appeared, they were
set aside. When this examination w'as over, they took
an oath, whereby they bound themselves to promote in
all their counsels the public good, to advise nothing
contrary to the laws, and to execute their functions ex¬
actly. The highest fine the senate could impose was
500 drachms : if they thought the ofl’ender deserved
a heavier mulct, they then transmitted the cause to the
Thesmothetae, who punished them as they thought fit.
The senators, when their year was out, gave an ac¬
count of their management to the people : but that
they might have the less to do, they always punished
such of their number as they found had offended by
expulsion ; and in this they were mighty exact. Yet
an expelled senatoiMvas notwithstanding eligible to any
other office, the most trivial omission being sufficient
to occasion a dismission from the senatorial dignity ;
and therefore, when the tribes chose their senators,
they also chose a certain number of subsidiaries, out of
which, when a senator was expelled, another was sub¬
stituted in his place. Each senator was allowed a
drachm every day: for it was a constant rule with the
I C A.
Athenians, that the public ought to pay for every man’s Attica,
time j and therefore such of the poor Athenians as -v—-—■*
thought fit to demand it, had three obolh for going to
the assembly. If during their administration any ships
of war were built, the senators had crowns decreed
them j but if not, they were forbid to sue for them.
Next to the senate was the court of Areopagus 5
for a description of which see that article. I$0
I he chief magistrates of Athens were Archons, and Arclions,
inferior to them there were many others j of whom itNomophy-
will be necessary to mention some. In the first place saces’ ^!'c‘
they had Nomophylaces, who were also styled the eleven,
because they were so many in number, one chosen
out of each tribe, and a clerk or secretary who made
up the eleventh. Their duty it was to look to the exe¬
cution of the laws : they had authority to seize robbers
and other capital offenders ; and if they confessed, to
put them to death. Dr Potter thinks they resembled
our sheriffs. The Phylarchi were the presidents of the
Athenian tribes j but in time this became a military
title. The Philobasileus was an officer in each tribe,
who did the same things within his jurisdiction as the
Basileus did with respect to the state. The Demarchi
were the principal magistrates in wards. The Lexar-
chi were six in number, and were bound to take care
that the people came duly to the assemblies ; in their
custody was the public register of the citizens names.
They had under them Toxotse, who were lictors or
bailifs ; they were sometimes 1000 in number: these
men were necessary : but, like most of their sort, were
in a manner infamous, as may be gathered from the
comedies of Aristophanes 5 they were generally Scy¬
thians, raw-boned, brawny fellows, ready to execute
any thing they were commanded. The Nomothetae
were 1000 in number ; their business was to watch
over and inspect into the laws. There were two sorts
of orators in the service of the state. Some were ap¬
pointed to defend an old law, when a motion was made
to repeal it; these had their fee from the state, but the
same man was incapable of being elected twice. Be¬
sides these, there were 10 settled orators called Prieto-
res, elected by lot; their business was to plead public
causes in the senate house. For this they had their sta¬
ted fees ; and with respect to their qualifications, the l9£
law run thus: “Let no one be a public orator who Laws re-
hath struck his parents, denied them maintenance, or garding
shut them out of his doors $ who hath refused to serveoratols“
in the army ; who hath thrown away his shield j who
hath been addicted to lewd women, notoriously effe- *
minate, or has run out his patrimony. If any man who
has been guilty of these crimes dare to deliver an ora¬
tion, let him be brought to trial upon the spot. Let
an orator have children lawfully begotten, and an
estate within Attica ; if in his oration he talks imperti¬
nently, makes idle repetitions, affects an unbecoming
raillery, digresses from the point in question, or, after
the assembly is over, abuses the president, let the Pro¬
edri fine him 50 drachms ; and if that is not thought
enough, let him be brought before the next assembly
and fined again.”
We shall conclude this draught of the Athenian go- Courts
vernment with an account of their courts of justice,
which, exclusive of the Areopagus, were 10 in num¬
ber ; four had cognizance of criminal, and six of civil
causes, These 10 courts were numbered with the 10
first
:54
A T T I C A.
Attica, first letters of the alphabet, and were thence styled,
Alpha, Beta, Gamma, &c. When an Athenian was
at leisure to hear causes, he wrote his own name, that
of his father, and the ward to which he belonged, up¬
on a tablet 5 this he presented to the Thesmothetse,
who returned it again to him with another tablet, with
the letter which fell to his lot ; then he went to the
crier of the court, who presented him a sceptre, and
gave him admission. When the causes were over, every
judge went and delivered his sceptre to the Prytanes,
and received a stated fee for every cause that was tried.
But this w7as intended only to compensate their loss of
time so that there might be no appearance of covetous¬
ness, a man was forbid to sit in two courts on the same
day. The first criminal court after the Areopagus was
that of the Ephctce. It consisted of 51 members, all up¬
wards of 51 years old. Draco gave it a very extensive
jurisdiction $ but Solon took away from them the power
of judging in any other causes than those of manslaugh¬
ter, accidental killing, and lying in wait to destroy: the
Basileus entered all causes in this court. The second
criminal court was called Delphinium, because it was
held in the temple of Apollo Delphinius ; it had cog¬
nizance of such murders as were confessed by the crimi¬
nal, but at the same time justified under some pretence
or other. rIhe Prytaneum was the third criminal
court. It held plea of such cases where death ensued
from inanimate things ; causes were heard here with the
same solemnity as in other courts ; and on judgment
given, the thing, whatever it was, that had occasioned
the death of a man, was thrown out of the territory of
Athens. Ihe last criminal court was styled P/rrerrfrm.
It sat in a place near the sea shore j and such persons
were brought before this court as had committed murders
in their own country and fled to Attica ; the proceed¬
ings of this court were so severe, that they did not per¬
mit the criminal to come on shore, but obliged him to
plead his cause in his vessel ; and if he was found guilty,
he was committed to the mercy of the winds and seas.
Of the judicatures for hearing civil causes, the first
was the Parabaston, so called, as some think, because
in it no matter could be heard if the cause of action
was above one drachm. The Cainon, or new court,
was the second tribunal. The third was styled the
coui't of Lycus, because it assembled in a temple dedi¬
cated to that hero, whose statue, represented with the
face of a wolf) was set up in all courts of justice. The
Trigonon was so called, because it was triangular in its
form. The court Metidius derived its appellation from
the architect who built it. The sixth and last court
w'as called Helicea; it w'as by far the greatest, and is
generally believed to have derived its name from the
judges sitting in the open air exposed to the sun. All
the Athenians who were free citizens were allowed by
law to sit in these courts as judges; but before they
took their seats were sworn by Apollo Patrius, Ceres,
and Jupiter the king, that they would decide all things
righteously and according to law, where there was any
law to guide them $ and by the rules of natural equity,
where there was none. The Helaeastic court consisted
at least of 50, but its usual number was 300, judges j
when causes of very great consequence were to be tried,
1000 sat therein j and now and then the judge® were
increased to IJOO, and even to 2000.
Attici,
ATT
Atticus. AfriCUS, Titus Pomponius, one of the most
Attila. honourable men in ancient Rome. He understood the
  ' art of managing himself with such address, that with¬
out leaving his state of neutrality, he preserved the
esteem and aff ection of all parties. His strict friendship
with Cicero did not hinder him from having great in¬
timacy with Hortensius. The contests at Rome be¬
tween Cinna’s party and that of Marius induced' him
to go to Athens, where he continued for a long time.
He was very fond of polite learning, and kept at his
house several librarians and readers. He might have
obtained the most considerable posts in the government 5
but chose rather not to meddle, because in the corrup¬
tion and faction which then prevailed he could not dis¬
charge them according to the laws. He wrote Annals.
He married his daughter to Agrippa; and attained to
the age of 77.
AT IILA, king of the Huns, surnamed the scourge
of God, lived in the filth century. He may be ranked
amongst the greatest conquerors, since there was scarce¬
ly any province of Europe which did not feel the weight
of his victorious arms.
Gibbon's Attila deduced his noble, perhaps his regal, de-
Rome, scent from the ancient Huns, who had formerly con-
vol. iii. tended with the monarchs of China. His features, ac-
P’ 357’ cording to the observation of a Gothic historian, bore
the stamp of his national origin : and the portrait of
Attila exhibits the genuine deformity of a modern
Calmuck j a large head, a swarthy complexion, small
deep-seated eyes, a flat nose, a few hairs in the place
ATT
of a beard, broad shoulders, and a short square body,
of nervous strength, though of a disproportioned form.y—
The haughty step and demeanour of the king of the
Huns expressed the consciousness of his superiority
above the rest of mankind $ and he had a custom of
fiercing rolling his eyes, as if he wished to enjoy the
terror which he inspired. Yet this savage hero was
not inaccessible to pity his suppliant enemies might
confide in the assurance of peace or pardon; and At¬
tila was considered by his subjects as a just and indul¬
gent master. He delighted in war: but after he had
ascended the throne in a mature age, his head, rather
than his hand, achieved the conquest of the north j
and the fame of an adventurous soldier was usefully ex¬
changed for that of a prudent and successful general.
The effects of personal valour are so inconsiderable,
except in poetry or romance, that victory", even among
barbarians, must depend on the degree of skill, with
which the passions of the multitude are combined and
guided for the service of a single man. The arts of
Attila were skilfully adapted to the character of his
age and country. It was natural enough, that the
Scythians should adore with peculiar devotion, the
god ol war; but as they were incapable of forming
either an abstract idea, or a corporeal representation,
they worshipped their tutelar deity under the symbol of
an iron scimitar. One of the shepherds of the Huns
perceived, that a heifer, who was grazing, had wound¬
ed herself in the foot •, and curiously followed the track
of the bloocf, till he discovered, among the long grass,
ATT [2
Mtila. the point of an ancient sword ; which he dug out of
y 1 t|ie ground, and presented to Attila. That magnami-
mous, or rather that artful, prince, accepted with pi¬
ous gratitude, this celestial favour ; and, as the right¬
ful possessor of the stvord of Mars, asserted his divine
and indefeasible claim to the dominion of the earth. If
the rites of Scythia were practised on this solemn occa¬
sion, a lofty altar, or rather pile of faggots, 300 yards
in length and in breadth, was raised in a spacious
plain; and the sword of Mars was placed erect on the
summit of this rustic altar, which was annually conse¬
crated by the blood of sheep, horses, and of the hun¬
dredth captive. Whether human sacrifices formed any
part of the worship of Attila, or whether he propitia¬
ted the god of war with the victims which he continu*
ally offered in the field of battle, the favourite of Mars
soon acquired a sacred character, which rendered his
conquests more easy and more permanent; and the
barbarian princes confessed, in the language of devo¬
tion or flattery, that they could not presume to gaze
with a steady eye on the divine majesty of the king of
the Huns. His brother Bleda, who reigned over a
considerable part oFthe nation, was compelled to re¬
sign his sceptre and his life. Yet even this cruel act
was attributed to a supernatural impulse ; and the vi¬
gour with which Attila wielded the sword of Mars, con¬
vinced the world that it had been reserved alone for his
invincible arm. But the extent of his empire affords
the only remaining evidence of the number and impor¬
tance of his victories; and the Scythian monarch, how¬
ever ignorant of the value of science and philosophy,
might perhaps lament that his illiterate subjects were
destitute of the art which could perpetuate the memory
of his exploits.
If a line of separation were drawn between the civi¬
lized and the savage climates of the globe ; between
the inhabitants of cities who cultivated the earth, and
the hunters and shepherds who dwelt in tents ; Attila
might aspire to the title of supreme and sole monarch
of the Barbarians. He alone, among the conquerors
of ancient and modern times, united the two mighty
kingdoms of Germany and Scythia : and those vague
appellations, when they are applied to his reign, may¬
be understood with an extensive latitude. Thuringia,
which stretched beyond its actual limits as far as the
Danube, was in the number of his provinces : he in¬
terposed, with the weight of a powerful neighbour, in
the domestic affairs of the Franks ; and one of his lieu¬
tenants chastised, and almost exterminated, the Bur¬
gundians of the Rhine. He subdued the islands of the
ocean, the kingdoms of Scandinavia, encompassed and
divided by the waters of the Baltic ; and the Huns
niight derive a tribute of furs from that northern re¬
gion, which has been protected from all other conque¬
rors' by the severity of the climate, and the courage of
the natives. Towards the east, it is difficult to cir¬
cumscribe the dominion of Attila over the Scythian de¬
serts : yet we may be assured, that he reigned on the
banks of the ^ olga; that the king of the Huns was
dreaded not only as a warrior but as a magician ;
that he insulted and vanquished the khan of the formi¬
dable Geougen ; and that he sent ambassadors to nego-
ciate an equal alliance with the empire of China. In
the proud review of the nations who acknowledged the
sovereignty of Attila, and who never entertained du-
55 ] ATT
ring his lifetime the thought of a revolt, the Gepidse Attiln
and the Ostrogoths were distinguished by their num- ||
hers, their bravery, and the personal merit of . their Attorney,
chiefs, i he renowned Ardaric king of the Gepidre,
was the laithful and sagacious counsellor of the mo¬
narch ; who esteemed his intrepid genius, whilst he lo¬
ved the mild and discreet virtues of the noble Walamir
king of the Ostrogoths. The crowd of the vulgar
kings, the leaders of so many martial tribes, who served
under the standard ot Attila, were ranged in the sub¬
missive order ol guards and domestics round the person
of their master. They watched his nod ; they trembled
at his frown : and at the first signal of his will, they ex¬
ecuted without murmur or hesitation his stern and ab¬
solute commands. In time of peace, the dependent
princes, with their national troops, attended the royal
camp in regular succession ; but when Attila collected
his military force, he was able to bring into the field an
army ot five, or, according to another account, of seven
hundred thousand Barbarians.
I he death of Attila was attended with singular cir¬
cumstances. He had married a new wife, a beautiful
virgin named lldico. His nuptials were celebrated
with great festivity, at his palace beyond the Danube,
and he retired late to bed oppressed with wine. In
the night, a blood-vessel burst in his lungs, which suf¬
focated him. rIhe bride was found in the morning sit¬
ting by the bedside, lamenting his death and her own
danger. The body of Attila was exposed in the plain,
while the Huns, singing funeral songs to his praise,
marched round it in martial order. The body, enclo¬
sed in three coffins, of gold, silver, and iron, was pri¬
vately interred during the night; and to prevent the
violation of his remains by the discovery of the place
where he was buried, all the captive slaves who were
employed in the solemnity were barbarously massacred.
This happened about the year 453. With Attila end¬
ed the empire of the Huns. His sons, by dissension
and civil war, mutually destroyed each other, or were
dispossessed by more powerful and independent chief¬
tains.
For a farther account of his exploits, see the article
Huns.
ATTIRE, in hunting, signifies the head or horns
of a deer. The attire of a stag, if perfect, consist of
bur, pearls, beam, gutters, antler, sur-antler, royal, sur-
royal, and crotchets ; of a buck, of the bur, beam, brow-
antler, advancer, palm, and spellers.
ATTITUDE, in Painting and Sculpture, the gesture
of a figure or statue ; or it is such a disposition of their
parts as serves to express the action and sentiments of
the person represented.
ATTIUM, in Ancient Geography, a promontory on
the north-west of Corsica, (Ptolemy). It still retains
some traces of its ancient name, being now called Pun-
ta di Acciuolo (Cluverius). .
ATTLEBURY, a town in the county of Norfolk
in England. E. Long. o. 40. N. Lat. 52. 23.
ATTOLLENS, in Anatomy, an appellation given
to several muscles, otherwise called levatores and eleva¬
tor es. See Anatomy, Tables of the Muscles.
ATTORNEY at law, answers to the Procurator
or Proctor of the civilians and canonists : And he is
one who is put in the place, stead, or turn, of ano¬
ther, to manage his matters of law. Formerly every
suitor
ATT [ 256 ] ATT
Attorney, suitor was obliged to appear in person, to prosecute or
' v-*—' defend his suit (according to the old Gothic constitu¬
tion), unless by special license under the king’s letters
patent. This is still the law in criminal cases. And
an idiot cannot to this day appear by attorney, but in
person 5 for he hath not discretion to enable him to
appoint a proper substitute: and upon his being brought
before the court in so defenceless a condition, the judges
are bound to take care of his interests, and they shall
admit the best plea in his behalf that any one present
can suggest. But, as in the Roman law, cum glim in
usu fuisset, alterius nomine agi non posse, sed quia hoc
■non minimum incommoditatem habebat, cozperunt homi¬
nes per procuratores litigare; so, with us, on the same
principle of convenience, it is now permitted in gene¬
ral, by divers ancient statutes, whereof the first is sta¬
tute West. 2. c. 10. that attorneys may be made to
prosecute or defend any action in the absence of the
parties to the suit. These attorneys are now formed
into a regular corps j they are admitted to the execu¬
tion of their office by the superior courts of Westmin¬
ster hall ; and are in all points officers of the respec¬
tive courts in which they ai’e admitted ; and as they
have many privileges on account of their attendance
there, so they are peculiarly subject to the censure and
animadversion of the judges. No man can practise as
an attorney in any of those courts, but such as is ad¬
mitted and sworn an attorney of that particular court:
an attorney of the court of king’s bench cannot prac¬
tise in the court of common pleas j nor vice versa.
To practise in the court of chancery, it is also neces¬
sary to be admitted a snlicitor therein : and by the sta¬
tute 22 Geo. II. c. 46. no person shall act as an attor¬
ney at the court of quarter-sessions, but such as has
been regularly admitted in some superior court of re¬
cord. So early as the statute 4 Hen. IV. c. 18. it
was enacted, that attorneys should be examined by the
judges, and none admitted but such as were virtuous,
learned, and sworn to do their duty. And many sub¬
sequent statutes have laid them under farther regula¬
tions.
Letter of attorney pays by different acts, 6s. By
25 Geo. III. c. 80. the following duties are to be paid
by every solicitor, attorney, notary, proctor, agent,
or procurator, viz. for every warrant to prosecute for
a debt of 40s. or to defend, a stamp duty of 2s. 6d.
And they are to take out certificates annually ; and
if resident in London, Westminster, the bills of mor¬
tality, or Edinburgh, they are now obliged to pay
5I. for the same ; and in every other part of Great Bri¬
tain, 3I. The duties are under the management of
the commissioners of stamps : and every acting solici¬
tor, and other persons as above, shall annually deliver
in a note of his name and residence, to the proper offi¬
cer of the court in which he practises \ the entering
officers are to certify notes delivered, and issue annual
certificates, stamped as above, which must be renewed
ten days before the expiration. Refusing to issue, or
improperly issuing certificates, is a penalty of 50I. and
damages to the party aggrieved. Acting without a
certificate, or giving in a false place of residence, is
a penalty of 50I. and incapacity to sue for fees due.
A stamped memorandum shall be given to the proper
officer, of the names of the parties in every action ;
and in such cases as used to require precipes. Officers
who receive stamped memorandums, are to file the same, Attorney
on penalty of 50I. and persons not acting conformable ||
to this act forfeit 5I. , Attraction,
ATTQRNEY-General, is a great, officer under the ' V""J
king, made by letters patent. It is his place to exhibit
informations, and prosecute for the crown, in matters
criminal 5 and to file bills in the exchequer, for any¬
thing concerning the king in inheritance or profits j
and others may bring bills against the king’s attorney.
His proper place in court, upon any special matters of
a criminal nature, wherein his attendance is required,
is under the judges on the left hand of the clerk of the
crown : but this is only upon solemn and extraordinary
occasions j for usually he does not sit here, but within
the bar in the face of the court.
ATTOURNMENT, or Attornment, in Law, a
transfer from one lord to another of the homage and
sex-vice a tenant makes $ or that acknowledgment of
duty to a new lord.
ATTRACTION, in Natural Philosophy, a general
term used to denote the cause by which bodies tend to¬
wards each other, and cohere till separated by some
other power.
The principle of attraction, in the Newtonian sense
of it, seems to have been first surmised by Copernicus,
“ As for gravity,” says Copernicus, “ I. consider it as
nothing more than a certain natural appetence (appe-
tentia) that the Creator has impressed upon all the parts
of matter, in oi’der to their uniting or coalescing into a
globular form, for their better preservation 5 and it is
credible that the same power is also inherent in the sun
and moon, and planets, that those bodies may constantly
retain that round figure in which we behold them.” De
Rev. Orb. Ccelest. lib. i. cap. 9. And Kepler calls gra¬
vity a corporeal and mutual affection between similar
bodies, in order to their union. Ast. Nov. in Introd.
And he pronounces more positively, that no bodies
w-hatsoever were absolutely light, but only relatively so j
and consequently, that all matter was subjected to the
law of gravitation. Ibid.
The first in this country who adopted the notion of
attraction was Dr Gilbert in his book De Magtiete ;
and the next was the celebrated Lord Bacon, Nov. Or¬
gan. lib. ii. aphor. 36. 45. 48. Sylv. cent. i. exp. 33.
In France it was received by Fermat and Roberval j
and in Italy by Galileo and Borelli. But till Sir Isaac
Newton appeared, this principle was very imperfectly
defined and applied.
It must be observed, that though this gx-eat author
makes use of the word attraction, in common with the
school philosophers j yet he very studiously distinguishes
between the ideas. The ancient attraction was sup¬
posed a kind of quality, inherent in certain bodies
themselves, and arising from their particular or specific
forms. The Newtonian attraction is a more indefinite
principle j denoting not any particular kind or man¬
ner of action, nor the physical cause of such action ;
but only a tendency in the general, a conatus accedcndi,
to whatever cause, physical or metaphysical, such ef¬
fect be oxving, whether to a power inherent in the
bodies themselves, or to the impulse of an external
agent. Accordingly, that author, in his Philosoph.
Nat. Prin. Afath. notes, “ that he uses the xvords
attraction, impulse, propension to the centre, indif¬
ferently ; and cautions the reader not to imagine that
ATT [ ;
traction, by attraction be expresses the modus of the action, or
—~v~— the efficient cause thereof, as if there were any proper
powers in the centres, which in reality are only ma¬
thematical points j or as if centres could attract.”
Lib. i. p. 5. So he “ considers centripetal powers as
attractions, though, physically speaking, it were per¬
haps more just to call them impulses.” lb. p. 147. He
adds, “ that what he calls attraction may possibly be
effected by impulse, though not a common or corporeal
impulse, or after some other manner unknown to us.”
Optic, p. 312.
Attraction, if considered as a quality arising from
the specific forms of bodies, ought, together with sym¬
pathy, antipathy, and the whole tribe of occult quali¬
ties, to be exploded. But when we have set these
aside, there will remain innumerable phenomena of na¬
ture, and particularly the gravity or weight of bodies,
or their tendency to a centre, which argue a principle
of action seemingly distinct from impulse, where at
least there is no sensible impulsion concerned. Nay,
what is more, this action in some respects differs from
all impulsion we know of $ impulse being always
found to act in proportion to the surfaces of bodies,
whereas gravity acts according to their solid content,
and consequently must arise from some cause that pe¬
netrates or pervades the whole substance thereof. This
unknown principle, unknown we mean in respect of its
cause, for its phenomena and effects are most obvious,
with all the species and modifications thereof, we call
attraction ; which is a general name, under which all
mutual tendencies, where no physical impulse appears,
and which cannot therefore be accounted for from any
known laws of nature, may be ranged.
And hence arise divers particular kinds of attrac¬
tion j as, Gravity, Magnetism, Electricity, &c. which
are so many different principles acting by different
laws, and only agreeing in this, that we do not see any
physical causes thereof j but that, as to our senses, they
may really arise from some power or efficacy in such
bodies, whereby they are enabled to act even upon di¬
stant bodies, though our reason absolutely disallows of
any such action.
Attraction may be divided, with respect to the law
it observes, into two kinds.
I. That which extends to a sensible distance. Such
are the attraction of gravity, found in all bodies j and
the attraction of magnetism and electricity, found in
particular bodies. The several laws and phenomena of
each, see under their respective articles.
The attraction of gravity, called also among mathe¬
maticians the centripetal force, is one of the greatest
and most universal principles in all nature. We see
and feel it operate on bodies near the earth, and find
by observation that the same power (i. e. a power
winch acts in the same manner, and by the same rules,
viz. always proportionably to the quantities of matter,
and as the squares of the distances reciprocally) does
also obtain in the moon, and the other planets primary
and secondary, as well as in the comets ; and even that
this is the very power whereby they are all retained in
their orbits, &c. And hence, as gravity is found in
all the bodies which come under our observation, it is
easily inferred, by one of the settled rules of philoso¬
phizing, that it obtains in all others: and as it is found
to be as the quantity of matter in each body, it must
Vol. III. Part I, f
157 ] ATT
be in every particle thereof’, and hence every particle Attraction,
in nature is proved to attract every other particle, &c.
See Attraction, Astronomy Index.
From this attraction arises all the motion, and con¬
sequently all the mutation, in the material world. By
this heavy bodies descend, and light ones ascend ; by
this projectiles are directed, vapours and exhalations rise,
and rains, &c. fall. By this rivers glide, the air presses,
the ocean swells, &c. In effect, the motions arising
from this principle make the subject of that extensive
branch of mathematics, called mechanics or statics, with
the parts or appendages thereof, hydrostatics, pneuma¬
tics, &c.
2. Ihat which does not extend to sensible distances.
Such is found to obtain in the minute particles where¬
of bodies are composed, which attract each other at
or extremely near the point of contact, with a force
much superior to that of gravity, but which at anv
distance from it decreases much faster than the power
of gravity. This power a late ingenious author chooses
to call the attraction of cohesion, as being that whereby
the atoms or insensible particles of bodies are united
into sensible masses.
This latter kind of attraction owns Sir Isaac New¬
ton for its discoverer ; as the former does for its im¬
prover. The laws of motion, percussion, &c. in sen¬
sible bodies under various circumstances, as falling,
projected, &c. ascertained by the later philosophers, do
not reach to those more remote intestine motions of
the component particles of the same bodies, whereon
the changes of the texture, colour, properties, &c. of
bodies depend : so that our philosophy, if it were on¬
ly founded on the principle of gravitation, and carried
so far as that would lead us, would necessarily be very
deficient.
But beside the common laws of sensible masses, the
minute parts they are composed of are found subject
to some others, which have been but lately taken no¬
tice of, and are even yet imperfectly known. Sir Isaac
Newton, to whose happy penetration we owe the hint,
contents himself to establish that there are such mo¬
tions in the minima nature?, and that they flow from
certain powers or forces, not reducible to any of those
in the great world. In virtue of these powers, he
shows, “ That the small particles act on one another
even at a distance ; and that many of the phenomena
of nature are the result thereof. Sensible bodies, we
have already observed, act on one another divers
ways : and as we thus perceive the tenor and course
of nature, it appears highly probable that there may
be other powers of the like kind ; nature being very
uniform and consistent with herself. Those just men¬
tioned reach to sensible distances, and so have been
observed by vulgar eyes ; but there may be others
which reach to such small distances as have hitherto
escaped observation ; and it is probable electricity may
reach to such distances, even without being excited by
friction.
The great author just mentioned proceeds to confirm
the reality of these suspicions from a great number of
phenomena and experiments, which plainly argue such
powers and actions between the particles, e. g. of salts
and water, sulphuric acid and water, nitric acid and
iron, sulphuric acid and nitre. He also shows, that
these powers, &c. are unequally strong between diffe-
K k rent
ATT [2,
Attraction, vent bodies ; stronger, e. g. between the particles of
—v-—potash and those of nitric acid than those of silver, be¬
tween nitric acid and zinc than iron, between iron and
copper than silver or mercury. So sulphuric acid acts
on water, but more on iron or copper, &c.
The other experiments which countenance the exist¬
ence of such principle of attraction in the particles of
matter are innumerable.
These actions, in virtue whereof the particles of the
bodies above mentioned tend towards each other, the
author calls by a general indefinite name atti'action;
which is equally applicable to all actions whereby di¬
stant bodies tend towards one another, whether by im¬
pulse or by any other more latent power : and from
hence he accounts for an infinity of phenomena, other¬
wise inexplicable, to which the principle of gravity is
inadequate. \
“ Thus (adds our author) will nature be found very
conformable to herself and very simple ; performing
all the great motions of the heavenly bodies by
the attraction of gravity, which intereides those bo¬
dies, and almost all the small ones of their parts, by
some other attractive power diffused through the par¬
ticles thereof. Without such principles, there never
would have been any motion in the world ; and with¬
out the continuance thereof, motion would soon perish,
there being otherwise a great decrease or diminution
thereof, which is only supplied by these active princi¬
ples.
We need not say how unjust it is in the generality
of foreign philosophers to declare against a principle
which furnishes so beautiful a view, for no other reason
but because they cannot conceive how one body should
act on another at a distance. It is certain, philosophy
allows of no action but what is by immediate contact
and impulsion (for how can a body exert any active
power there where it does not exist ? to suppose this of
any thing, even the Supreme Being himself, would per¬
haps imply a contradiction) : yet we see effects without
seeing any such impulse; and where there are effects,
we can easily infer there are causes, whether we see
them or not. But a man may consider such effects
witnout entering into the consideration of the causes,
as indeed it seems the business of a philosopher to
do . for to exclude a number of phenomena which we
do see, will be to leave a great chasm in the history
of nature j and to argue about actions which we do
not see, will be to build castles in the air.——It follows,
therefore, that the phenomena of attraction are matter
of physical consideration, and as such entitled to a share
in the system of physics ; but that the causes thereof
will only become so when they become sensible, i. e.
when they appear to be the effect of some other higher'
causes (for a cause is no otherwise seen than as itself is
an effect, so that the first cause must from the nature
of things he invisible) : we are therefore at liberty to
suppose the causes of attraction what we please, with¬
out any injury to the effects—The illustrious author
himself seems a~ little irresolute as to the causes; incli¬
ning sometimes to attribute gravity to the action of an
immaterial cause (Optics, p. 343, &c.) and sometimes
to that of a material one (fb. p. 325.).
In his philosophy, the research into causes is the last
thing, and never comes under consideration till the
Jaws and phenomena of the effect be settled ; it being
58 ] ATT
to these phenomena that the cause is to be accommo- AttI,a
dated. The cause even of any, the grossest and most ,jCt"
sensible action, is not adequately known. How im- Attribut
pulse or percussion itself produces its effects, i. e. how
motion is communicated by body to body, confounds
the deepest philosophers ; yet is impulse received not
only into philosophy, but into mathematics : and ac¬
cordingly the laws and phenomena of its effects make
the greatest part of common mechanics.
The other species of attraction, therefore, in which
no impulse is remarkable, when their phenomena are
sufficiently ascertained, have the same title to be pro¬
moted from physical to mathematical consideration; and
this without any previous inquiry into their causes, which
our conceptions may not be proportionate to : let their
causes be occult, as all causes strictly speaking are, so
that their effects, which alone immediately concern us,
be but apparent.
Our great philosopher, then, far from adulterating
science with any thing foreign or metaphysical, as many
have reproached him with doing, has the glory of ha¬
ving thrown every thing of this kind out of his system,
and of having opened a new source of sublimer mecha¬
nics, which duly cultivated might be of infinitely great*
er extent than all the mechanics yet known. It is
hence alone we must expect to learn the manner of the
changes, productions, generations, corruptions, &c. of
natural things; with all that scene of wonders opened
to us by the operations of chemistry.
Some of our own countrymen have prosecuted the
discovery with laudable zeal: DrKeill particularly has
endeavoured to deduce some of the laws of this new
action, and applied them to solve divers of the more
general phenomena of bodies, as cohesion, fluiditv,
elasticity, softness, fermentation, coagulation, &c.j and
Hr Freind, seconding him, has made a further applica¬
tion of the same principles, to account at once for
almost all the phenomena that chemistry presents : so
that some philosophers are inclined to think that the
new mechanics should seem already raised to a com¬
plete science, and that nothing now can occur but what
we have an immediate solution of from the attractive
force.
But this seems a little too precipitate : A principle
so fertile should have been further explored. Attrac¬
tion in the gross is so complex a thing, that it may
solve a thousand different phenomena alike. The no¬
tion is hut one degree more simple and precise than
action itself; and, till more of its properties are ascer¬
tained, it were better to apply it less and study it
more. It may be added, that some of Sir Isaac New¬
ton’s foil owers have been charged with falling into that
error which he industriously avoided, viz. of considering
attraction as a cause or active property in bodies, not
merely as a phenomenon or effect.
For an account of the mathematical laws of attrac¬
tion, see Attraction, Supplement.
Attraction of Mountains. See Mountains.
Elective Attraction. See Chemistry Index.
ATTREBATII. See Atrebatii.
AT'I RIBUTE, in a general sense, that which
agrees with some person or thing ; or a quality deter¬
mining something to be after a certain manner. Thus
understanding is an attribute of mind, and extension
an attribute of body. That attribute which the mind
conceives
A V A [ 259 ] A tf B
Attribute conceives as the foundation of all the rest, is called its
essential attribute; thus extension is by some, andsoli-
Ava . dity by others, esteemed the essential attribute of body
or matter.
AT TRIBUTES, in Theology, the several qualities
or perfections of the Divine nature.
Attributes, in Logic, are the predicates of any
subject, or what may be affirmed or denied of any
thing.
Attributes, in Tainting and Sculpture, are sym¬
bols added to several figures, to intimate their parti¬
cular office and character. Thus the eagle is an attri¬
bute of Jupiter j a peacock, of Juno j a caduce, of
Mercury; a club, of Hercules; and a palm, of Vic¬
tory.
ATTRIBU FIVES, in Grammar, are words which
are significant of attributes; and thus include adjectives;
verbs, and particles, which are attributes of substances;
and adverbs, which denote the attributes only of attri¬
butes. Mr Harris, who has introduced this distribu¬
tion of words, denominates the former attributives of
the first order, and the latter attributives of the second
order.
ATTRITION, the rubbing or striking of bodies
one against another, so as to throw of}'some of their su¬
perficial particles.
ATUR/E, an ancient town in the district of Novem-
populana in Aquitania, cn the river Aturus ; now Aire
in Gascony, on the Adour. E. Long. o. 3. N. Lat.
43. 40.
ATWOOD, George, a mathematician and mecha¬
nician. See Supplement.
AVA, a kingdom of Asia, in the peninsula beyond
the Ganges. The king is very powerful, his dominions
being bounded by Bengal and the sea on the west, Siam
bn the south, Tonquin and Cochin China on the east,
and by Tibet and China on the north. Several large
rivers run through this country, which annually over¬
flow their banks like the Nile, and thus render it ex¬
tremely fertile. Here are mines of lead and copper,
together with some of gold and silver, besides large
quantities of the finest oriental rubies, sapphires, eme¬
ralds, &c. See Asia, N° 81, &c.
Ava, formerly the metropolis of the kingdom of the
same name, is situated in E. Long. 96. 30. N. Lat.
21. o. It is pretty large ; the houses built with timber
or bamboo canes, with thatched roofs, and floors made
of teak plank or split bamboo. I he streets are very
straight, with rows of trees planted on each side. The
king’s palace is an exact quadrangle, each side of
which is 800 paces, and is surrounded with a brick
wall ; but the palace itself is of stone. It has four
gates: the golden gate, through which all ambassadors
enter; the gate of justice, through which the people
bring petitions, accusations, or complaints ; the gate of
giace, through which those pass who have received any
favours, or have been acquitted of crimes laid to their
charge; and the gate of state, through which his
majesty himself passes when he shows himself to the
people.
Ava ava, a plant so called by the inhabitants of O-»
taheite, in the feouth sea, from the leaves of which they
express an intoxicating juice. It is drunk very freely by
the chiefs and other considerable persons, who vie with
each other in drinking the greatest number of draughts.
AVADOUTAS, a sect of Indian Bramins, who Avaclouhu
in austerity surpass all the rest. The other sects retain |j
earthen vessels for holding their provisions, and a stick Aubcnton
to lean on ; but none of these are used by the Avadou- t*~*—v*——;
tas ; they only cover their nakedness with a piece of
cloth; and some of them lay even that aside, and go
stark naked, besmearing their bodies with cow-dung.
When hungry, some go into houses, and, without
speaking, hold out their hand ; eating on the spot
whatever is given them. Others retire to the sides
of holy rivers, and there expect the peasants to bring
them provisions, which they generally do very libe¬
rally.
AVAIL of Marriage, in Scots Law, that casualty
in wardholding, by which the superior was entitled to
a certain sum from his vassal, upon his attaining the
age of puberty, as the value or avail of his tocher.
AVALANCHES, a name given to prodigious snow¬
balls that frequently roll down the mountains in Savoy,
particularly Mount Blanc, to the extreme danger of
such adventurous travellers as attempt to ascend those
stupendous heights. Some of the avalanches are about
200 feet diameter; being fragments of the ice-rocks
which break by their own weight from the tops of the
precipices. See Mount Blanc.
AVALON, a small but ancient city of France, in
the department of the Yonne, and containing 4200 in¬
habitants in 1815. E. Long. 3. 50. N. Lat. 47. 48.
A VANIA, in the Turkish legislature, a fine for
crimes and on deaths, paid to the governor of the place.
In the places wherein several nations live together un¬
der a Turkish governor, be takes this profitable method
of punishing all crimes among the Christians or Jews*
unless it be the murder of a Turk.
AVARICUM, an ancient town of the Bituriges in
Gallia Celtica, situated on the rivulet Avara, in a very
fertile soil (Caesar.) Now Bourges, in Berry. E. Lone .
2. 30. N. Lat. 47. 10. '
AVAST, in the sea language, a term requiring to
stop or to stay.
AVAUNCHERS, among hunters, the second branch¬
es of a deer’s horns.
AUB AGNE, a town of Provence in France, situated
on the river Veaune, on the road from Marseilles to
Toulon. The states formerly held their session at this
place. E. Long. 5. 52. N. Lat. 43. 17.
AUBAINE, in the old customs of France, a right
vested in the king, by virtue of which he claimed the
inheritance of all foreigners that died within his domi¬
nions, notwithstanding of any testament the deceased
could ipake. An ambassador was not subject to the
right of aubaine ; and the Swissj Savoyards, Scots, and
Portuguese were also exempted. This ancient privi¬
lege of the crown was abolished in 1819.
AUBE, a department in the east of France, compre¬
hending part of the ancient Champagne. It contains
305 square leagues, and had a population of 238,819
in 1815. Troyes is the chief town.
AUBENAS, a town of France, in the department
of Ardeche, situated on the river Ardeche, at the foot
of the mountains called the Cevennes. E. Long. 4. 32.
N. Lat. 44. 40.
AUBENTON, a town of France, in the department
of Aisne, situated on the river Aube. E. Long. 4. 2 c.
N. Lat. 49. 51.
K k 2 AUBETERRE;
A U B
Aiibeterre
II
Aubrey.
AUBETERRE, a town of France, in the Angu-
mois, on the river Dronne. E. Long. o. 10. N. Lat.
,45-M-
AUBIGNE, a town of France, in the department
of Cher, situated on the river Verre, in a flat and
agreeable country. It is surrounded with high strong
walls, wide ditches, and high counterscarps. The
castle is within the town, and is very handsome.
E. Long. 2. 20. N. Lat. 47. 29.
AUBIN du comier, a town of Erance, in the de¬
partment of Isle and Vilaine. W. Long. 1. 15. N. Lat.
48' I5*
Aubin, in Horsemanship, a broken kind of gait, be¬
tween an amble and a gallop, accounted a defect.
AUBONNE, a town of Switzerland, in the can¬
ton of Bern. E. Long. 5. 54. N. Lat. 46. 30. It
is situated near a river of the. same name, seven miles
north of the lake of Geneva, upon an eminence which
has a gentle declivity, at the foot of which runs the
river with an impetuous torrent. The town is built in
the form of an amphitheatre j on the upper part of
which stands a very handsome castle with a fine court,
and a portico supported by pillars of a single stone
each ; above there is a covered gallery that runs round
the court j and as the castle stands high, there is a most
delightful prospect, not only of the town and neigh¬
bouring fields, but of the whole lake of Geneva and
the land that surrounds it. At Thonen, in Savoy, on
the other side of the lake, is a town covered with tin,
which makes a glittering appearance when the sun is in
a certain position •, and the castle of Aubonne has like¬
wise a tower of the same kind, which at certain hours
makes a similar appearance to the Savoyards. The
bailiage of Aubonne contains several villages, which
are mostly at the foot of the mountain Jura. In one
part of this mountain there is a very deep cave, where¬
in those that go down find a natural and perpetual ice¬
house. At the bottom is heard a great noise like that
of a subterraneous river, which is supposed to be that
of the river Aubonne, because it first appears, with se¬
veral sources, about 100 paces from the foot of that
mountain.
AUBREY, John, a famous English antiquary, de¬
scended from an ancient family in Wiltshire, was born
in 1626. He made the history and antiquities of
England his peculiar study and delight; and contri¬
buted considerable assistance to the famous Monasticon
Anglicanum. He succeeded to several good estates j
but law-suits and other misfortunes consumed them all,
so that he was reduced to absolute want. In this ex¬
tremity he found a valuable benefactress in the Lady
Long of Draycot in Wilts, who gave him an apart¬
ment in her house, and supported him to his death,
which happened about the year 1700. He was a man
of considerable ability, learning, and application, a
good Latin poet, an excellent naturalist, but somewhat
credulous, and tinctured with superstition. He left
many works behind him. He wrote, 1. Miscellanies.
2. A Perambulation of the county of Surry, in five
volumes, octavo. 3. The Life of Mr Hobbes of
Malmsbury. 4. Monumenta Britannica, or a discourse
concerning Stonehenge, and Roll Rich stones in Ox¬
fordshire. 5. Architectonica Sacra ; and several other
works still in manuscript.
[ 260 ] A U D
AUBURN, a market-town of Wiltshire, in Eng- Aujmn
land. W. Long. 1. 20. N. Lat. 53. 20. ||
AUBUSSON, a small town of France, in the pro- Audience,
vince of La Marche, and the government of the Lyon-U“"Y'—■
nois, now the department of Creuse. Its situation is
very irregular, on the river Creuse, in a bottom sur¬
rounded with rocks and mountains. A manufacture
of tapestry-is carried on here, and the town contained
a population of 3520 souls in 1815. E. Long. 2. 15.
N. Lat. 45. 58.
AUCAUGREL, the capital of the kingdom of
Adel in Africa, seated on a mountain. E. Long. 44.
35. N. Lat. 9. 10.
AUCH, a city of France, the capital of the coun¬
ty of Armagnac, now the department of Gers, and the
metropolis of all Gascony. The archbishop formerly
assumed the title of primate of Aquitain. It lies on the
summit and declivity of a very steep hill, which is sur¬
rounded by other hills that rise at a small distance j and
through the vale below runs a rivulet, called the Gers.
The inhabitants amount to 8800 ; the buildings are mo¬
dern and elegant j the streets, though in general narrow,
yet are clean and well paved. In the centre of the
city stands the cathedral, which is one of the most mag¬
nificent in France, both as to its construction and the
internal decorations. The painted windows are only
inferior to those of Gouda in Holland. The chapels
are of equal beauty, and ornamented at a prodigious
expence. The revenues of the see of Audi amounted
formerly to three hundred thousand livres per annum.
It contains manufactures of serge and the coarse wool¬
lens called barat; there are also tanneries, and the en¬
virons are noted for producing the excellent pear called
bon chretien.
AUCTION, a kind of public sale, very much in
use for household goods, books, plate, &c. By this
method of sale the highest bidder is always the buyer.
This was originally a kind of sale among the ancient
Romans, performed by the public crier sub hasta, i. e..
under a spear stuck up on that occasion, and by some
magistrate, who made good the sale by delivery of the
goods.
AUDEANISM, the same with anthropomorphism.
See Anthropomorphites.
AUDEUS, the chief of the Audeans, obtained
the name of a heretic, and the punishment ol ba¬
nishment, for celebrating Easter in the manner of
the Jews, and attributing a human form to the Dei¬
ty. He died in the country of the Goths, about the
year 370.
AUDIENCE given to ambassadors, a ceremony
observed in courts at the admission of ambassadors or
public ministers to a hearing.
In England, audience is given to ambassadors in the
presence chambers ; to envoys and residents, in a gal¬
lery, closet, or in any place where the king happens to
be. Upon being admitted, as is the custom of all
courts, they make three bows; after which they cover
and sit down ; but not before the king is covered and
sat down, and has given them the sign to put 011 their
hats. When the king does not care to have them co¬
vered, and sit, he himself stands uncovered ; which is
taken as a slight. At Constantinople, ministers usual¬
ly have audience of the prime vizier.
a
Audience
Ludienoe
II
uiditores.
A U D [ 261 ] A U D
Audience is also the name of a court of justice
established in the West Indies by the Spaniards, an¬
swering in effect to the parliament in France. These
courts take in several provinces, called also audien¬
ces, from the name of the tribunal to which they be¬
long.
Audience is also the name of an ecclesiastical court
held by the archbishop of Canterbury, wherein differ¬
ences upon elections, consecrations, institutions, mar¬
riages, &c. are heard.
AUDIENDO & TERMINANDO, a writ, or rather a
commission to certain persons, when any insurrection
or great riot is committed in any place, for the appeas¬
ing and punishment thereof.
AUDIENTES, or Auditores, in church history,
an order of catechumens j consisting of those newly in¬
structed in the mysteries of the Christian religion, and
not yet admitted to baptism.
AUDIT, a regular hearing and examination of an
account by some proper officers, appointed for that pur¬
pose.
AUDITOR, in a general sense, a hearer, or one who
listens or attends to any thing.
Auditor, according to our Laiv, is an officer of
the king, or some other great person, who, by examin¬
ing yearly the accounts of the under officers, makes
up a general book, with the difference between their
receipts and charges, and their allowances to alloca¬
tions.
Auditor of the Receipts, is an officer of the exche¬
quer who files the tellers bills, makes an entry of
them, and gives the lord treasurer a certificate of the
money received the week before. He also makes de¬
bentures to every teller, before they receive any money,
and takes their accounts. He keeps the black book
of receipts, and the treasurer’s key of the treasury,
and sees every teller’s money locked up in the new
treasury.
Auditors of the Revenue, or of the exchequer, offi¬
cers who take the accounts of those who collect the re¬
venues and taxes raised by parliament, and take the
accounts of the sheriffs, escheators, collectors, tenants,
and customers, and set them down in a book, and per¬
fect them.
Auditors of the Prest and Imprest, officers of the
exchequer, who take and make up the accounts of Ire¬
land, Berwick, the mint, and of any money impressed to
any man for the king’s service. They received pound¬
age on all accounts passed by them, which amounted to
a prodigious sum, especially in time of war. But the
office is now abolished, and 7000I. a-year given to the
incumbents.
Auditors Collegiate, Conventual, &c. officers for¬
merly appointed in colleges, &c. to examine and pass
their accounts.
AUDITORES, in church history. See Audi-
ENTES.
The auditores formed one branch of the Manichean
sect, which was divided into elect and auditors; cor-
responding, according to some writers, to clergy anA.
laity ; and, according to others, to the faithful and ca¬
techumens among the Catholics. By the Manichean
rule, a different course of life was prescribed to the
elect from that of the auditors. The latter might eat
flesh, drink wine, bathe, marry, traffic, possess estates, Auditores
bear magistracy, and the like; all which things were [j
forbidden to the elect. The auditors were obliged to , Andran. .
maintain the elect, and kneeled down to ask their bles-
sing. Beausobre observes, that the elect were ecclesi¬
astics, and in genera], such as made profession of ob¬
serving certain counsels, called evangelic ; such as the
clergy and monks j and they were called the perfect
by Theodoret. The auditors were the laity, and so
denominated, because they heard in the church, whilst
others taught and instructed.
AUDITORIUM, in the ancient churches, was that
part of the church where the audientes stood to hear
and be instructed.
The auditorium was that part now called navis ec-
clesiee*. In the primitive times, the church was so*gee
strict in keeping the people together in that place, that ptavs.
the person who went from thence in sermon-time, was
ordered by the council of Carthage to be excommuni¬
cated.
AUDITORY, something relating to the sense of
hearing.
Auditory, or Audience, an assembly of people
who attend to hear a person who speaks in public.
Auditory is also used for the bench whereon a ma¬
gistrate or judge hears causes.
Auditory, in ancient churches. See Audito¬
rium.
Auditory Passage, (meatus auditoriusf, in Ana¬
tomy ; the entrance of the ear. See Anatomy In¬
due.
Auditory Nerves. See Anatomy Index.
AUDRAN, Claude, a French engraver, the first
of the celebrated artists of that name, was the son of
Lewis Audran, an officer belonging to the wolf-hun¬
ters, in the reign of Henry IV. of France ; and was
born at Paris in 1592. He never made any great pro¬
gress in that art; so that his prints are»held in little or
no estimation. Yet though he acquired no great re¬
putation by his own works, it was no small honour to
him to be the father of three great artists, Germain,
Claude, and Girard ; the last of whom has immorta¬
lized the name of the family. Claude Audran retired
from Paris to Lyons, where he resided, and died in
1677.
Audran, Carl, a very eminent engraver, was bro¬
ther to the preceding, though some assert ,he was only
his cousin-german ; and was born at Paris in 1594. In
his infancy he discovered much taste, and a great dispo¬
sition for the arts; and to perfect himself in engrav¬
ing, which he appears to have been chiefly fond of,
he went to Rome, where he produced several prints
that did him great honour. At his return, he adopt¬
ed that species of engraving which is performed with
the graver only* He settled at Paris, wdiere he died
in 1674, without having ever been married. The
Abbe Maiolles, who always speaks of this artist with
great praise, attributes 130 prints to him: amongst
which, the annunciation, a middle-sized plate, upright,
from Hannibal Carracci; and the assumption, in a
circle, from Domenichino, are the most esteemed.
In the early part of his life he marked his prints
with C, or the name of Carl, till his brother Claude
published some plates with the initial only of his bap¬
tismal i
A U D [ 262 ] A U E>
Atidran.
Strutt's
Diction¬
ary.
tismal name; when, for distinction’s sake, he used the
letter K, or wrote his name K.arl, with the K instead
of the C.
Audran, Germaine^ the eldest son of Claude, men¬
tioned in the preceding article but one, was born in
1631 at Lyons, where his parents then resided. Not
content with the instructions of his father, he went to
Paris,, and perfected himself under his uncle Carl; so
that, upon his return to Lyons, he published several
prints which did great honour to his graver. His me¬
rit was in such estimation, that he was made a mem¬
ber of the academy established in that town, and cho¬
sen a professor. He died at Lyons in 1710, and left
behind him four sons, all artists; namely, Claude, Be-
noist, John, and Louis.
Audran, Claude, the second of this name, and se¬
cond son to Claude above mentioned, was born at
Lyons in 1639, and went to Rome to study paint¬
ing ; where he succeeded so well, that at his return he
was employed by Le Brun to assist him in the battles
of Alexander, which he was then painting for the king
of France. He was received into the Royal Academy
io the year 1675, and died unmarried at Paris in
1684. His virtues (says Abbe Fontenai) were as
praiseworthy as his talents were great. M. Heineken
mentions this artist as an engraver, without specifying
any of his works in that line.
Audran, Girard, or Gerard, the most celebrated
artist of the whole family of the Audrans, was the
third son of Claude Audran mentioned in a preceding
article, and born at Lyons in 1640. Fie learned
from his father the first principles of design and engra¬
ving ; and following the example of his brother, he
left Lyons and went to Paris, where his genius soon
began to manifest itself. His reputation there brought
him to the knowledge of Le Brun, who employed him
to engrave the battles of Constantine, and the triumph
of that emperor; and for these works he obtained apart¬
ments at the Gobelins. At Rome, whither he went
for improvement, he is said to have studied under Carlo
Maratti, in order to perfect himself in drawing; and
in that city, where he resided three years, he engraved
several fine plates. M. Colbert, that great encourager
of the arts, was so struck with the beauty of Audran’s
works whilst he resided at Rome, that he persuaded
Louis XIV. to recal him. On his return, he applied
himself assiduously to engraving ; and was appointed
engraver to the king, from whom he received great
encouragement. In the year 1681 he was named coun¬
sellor of the Royal Academy ; and died at Paris in
1703. He had been married ; but left no male issue
behind him.
The great excellency of this artist above that of any
other engraver was, that though he drew admirably
himself, yet he contracted no manner of his own ; but
transcribed on copper simply, with great truth and
spirit, the style of the master whose pictures he copied.
On viewing his prints you lose sight of the engraver,
and naturally say, it is Le Brun, it is Poussin, it is
Mignard, or it is Le Sueur, &c. as you turn to the
prints which he engraved from those masters. Let
any one examine the battles above-mentioned from
Le Brun, the preservation of the young Pyrrhus from
Nichol as Poussin, the pest from Mignard, and the mar¬
tyrdom of St Lawrence from Le Sueur, and then judge
3
candidly of the truth of this observation. The fol- Audnui
lowing judicious observations by the abbe Fontenai, —y—.
taken chiefly from M. Basan* with some small %'aria-
tion and additions, will fully illustrate the merits of
Gerard Audran. “ This sublime artist, far from con¬
ceiving that a servile arrangement of strokes, and the
too frequently cold and affected clearness of the gra¬
ver, were the great essentials of historical engraving,
gave worth to his works by a bold mixture of free
hatchings and dots, placed together apparently without
order, but with an inimitable degree of taste; and has
left to posterity most admirable examples of the style
in which grand compositions ought to be treated. His
greatest works, which have not a very flattering ap¬
pearance to the ignorant eye, are the admiration of
true connoisseurs and persons of fine taste. He ac¬
quired the most profound knowledge of the art by the
constant attention and study which he bestowed upon
the science of design, and the frequent use he made of
painting from nature. This great man always knew
how to penetrate into the genius of the painter he
copied from; often improved upon, and sometimes
even surpassed him. Without exception, he was the
most celebrated engraver that ever existed in the histo¬
rical line. We have several subjects which he engra¬
ved from his own designs, that manifested as much taste
as character and facility. But, in the battles of Alex¬
ander, he surpassed even the expectations of Le Brun
himself.” These consist of three very large prints,
lengthwise, each consisting of four plates, which join
together, from Le Brun ; namely, the passage of the
Granicus; the battle of Arbela ; Porus brought to A-
lexander, after his defeat. To this set are added two
hiore large prints lengthwise, on two plates each, also
from Le Brun, as follow : Alexander entering the tent
of Darius ; and The triumphal entry of Alexander into
Babylon. The former was engraved by Gerard Ede-
link, and the latter by Gerard Audran. It is to be
remarked of all these plates, that those impressions are
generally most esteemed which have the name of Goy-
ton the printer marked upon them. The Pest, from
Peter Mignard, a large plate, lengthwise, also deserves
particular notice. In the first impressions, the figure in ,
the clouds is Juno with her peacock behind her; in the
latter, the peacock is obliterated, and the wings of an
angel are added to the figure.
Audran, Benoit, the second son of Germain Au¬
dran, was born at Lyons in 1661, where he learn¬
ed the first principles of design and engraving under
the instruction of his father; But soon after going to
Paris, his uncle Gerard Audran took him under his
tuition ; and Benoit so greatly profited by his instruc¬
tions, that though he never equalled the sublime style
of his tutor, yet he deservedly acquired great reputa¬
tion. Nay, the abbe Fontenai adds this eulogium :
“ We admire in his works a share of those beauties
which we find in the engravings of the illustrious Ge¬
rard.” He was honoured with the appellation of the
king’s engraver, and received the royal pension. He
was made an academician, and admitted into tlje coun¬
cil in 1715. He died unmarried at Louzouer, where
he had an estate, in 1721. His manner was founded
upon the hold clear style of his uncle. His outlines
were firm and determined ; his drawing correct; the
heads of his figures are in general very expressive ; and
A U D [ 263 ] A V E
iudran. tlie other extremities well marked. His works, when
—y--—' compared with those of his uncle, appear to want that
mellowness and harmony which are so conspicuous in
the latter; they are more dry ; and the round dots
with which he finished his flesh upon the lights are of¬
ten too predominant. In his most finished plates, we
find the mechanical part of the engraving extremely
neat, and managed with great taste and judgment.
Among his neatest prints may he reckoned that which
represents Alexander sick, drinking from the cup which
his physician presents to him ; a circular plate, from Le
Sueur.
Audran, John, the third son of Germain Audran,
was born at Lyons in 1667 \ and, after having receiv¬
ed instructions from his father, went to Paris to perfect
himself in the art of engraving under his uncle Gerard
Aud ran. At the age of 20 years, the genius of this
great artist began to display itself in a surprising man¬
ner ; and his future success was such, that in 1707, he
obtained the title of engraver to the king, and had a
pension allowed him by his majesty, with apartments
in the Gobelins j and the following year he was made
a member of the Royal Academy. He was 80 years
of age before he quitted the graver: and near 90 when
he died at his apartments assigned him by the king.
He left three sons behind him •, one of whom was also
an engraver, as we shall see below. “ The most ma¬
sterly and best prints of this artist (in Mr Strutt’s opi¬
nion) are those which are not so pleasing to the eye at
first sight. In these the etching constitutes a great part;
and he has finished them in a bold rough style. The
scientific hand of the master appears in them on exami¬
nation. The drawing of the human figure, where it is
shown, is correct. The heads are expressive and fine¬
ly finished ; the other extremities well marked. He
has not, however, equalled his uncle. He wants that
harmony in the effect ; his lights are too much and too
equally covered ; and there is not sufficient difference
between the style in which he has engraved his back
grounds and his draperies. This observation refers to
a fine print by him of Athaliah, and such as he engra¬
ved in that style. At other times he seems almost to
have quitted the point, and substituted the graver.
But here I think he has not so well succeeded. The
effect is cold and silvery : see, for example, the Andro¬
mache from Sylvestre. One of his best finished -prints,
m this neat style, seems to me to be Cupid and Psyche
from Ant. Coypel.”
Audran, Loins, the last son of Germain Audran,
was born at Lyons in 1670 ; from whence he went to
Paris, after the example of his brothers, to complete
his studies in the school of his uncle Gerard. He died
suddenly at Paris in I7,2, before he had produced
any great number of prints by his own hand. He
assisted, it is presumed, his brothers in their more ex¬
tensive works. Among the most esteemed prints by
this artist are the seven acts of mercy, on seven middling
sized plates, lengthwise, from Sebastian Bourdon.
Audran, Benoit, the second engraver of that name,
was the. son of John Audran, and nephew to the for¬
mer Benoit: and was also established at Paris. He
engraved but a few plates. It is necessary, however,
to be careful not to confound him with his uncle.
But a little attention will easily prevent this mistake ;
^or the second Benoit is vastly inferior to the first in
point of merit. We have some few portraits by this And ran
artist: and among other plates, the descent from the fj
cross, from a picture of Poussin. Avelfino.
AVLIRO, a considerable city of Portugal, seated ^
near the head of a small gulf formed by the tide at the
mouth of the river Vouga. This river forms a small
haven with a bar, over which vessels may pass that do
not draw above eight or nine feet water. The city
stands in a long plain well watered, and very fertile.
This plain is nine miles broad, from Porto to Coimbra ;
and is bounded on the east by a chain of mountains
called Sara d'Alcoba, which reach from the one town
to the other. Near this city there is salt made in suf¬
ficient quantity to serve two or three provinces. Here
is a remarkable nunnery, where none are received but
the daughters of the ancient nobility. The inhabitants
of Aveiro have the singular privilege, that no stranger
whatever can pass a night there without leave of the
magistrate. W. Long. 8. 34. N. Lat. 40. 30.
AVELLANE, in Heraldry, a cross, the quarters
of which somewhat resemble a filbert-nut. Sylvanns
Morgan says, that it is the cross which ensigns the
mound of authority, or the sovereign’s globe.
A\ELLINO, a city of Italy, in the kingdom of
Naples, with a bishop’s see. It was almost ruined by
an earthquake in 1694. It is, however, at present a
pretty considerable place, extending a mile in length
down the declivity of a hill, with ugly streets, but to¬
lerable houses. The churches have nothing to recom¬
mend them, being crowded with monstrous ornaments,
in a barbarous style, which the Neapolitans seem to
have borrowed from the Spaniards. The cathedral is
a poor building, in a wretched situation, with little to
attract the eye. The good people here need not run
to Naples to see the blood of St Januarius : for they
have a statue of St Lawrence, with a phial of his
blood, which for eight days in August entertains them
with a similar miraculous liquefaction. Their only edi¬
fice of note is a public granary, of the Composite or¬
der, adorned with antique statues, and a very elegant
bronze one of Charles II. of Spain, while a boy, cast
by Cavalier Cosimo. The number of inhabitants
amounts to 8000, some say 10,000. The bishop’s re¬
venue is about 6000 ducats (1125I.) a year. The
magistracy consists of a syndic and four eletti, ail
annual ; which offices are engrossed by a certain num¬
ber of families of some distinction, that neither inter¬
marry nor associate with the rest of the burghers. There
is a considerable manufacture of cloth here of various
qualities and colours, but chiefly blue. Many wealthy
merchants have a concern in this business, some with a
capital of eighty thousand ducats (15,000!.). The
poor women who spin the wool must work very hard
to earn above four grana a-day. The second article of
trade is maccaroni and paste of many kinds, which be¬
ing of an excellent quality, are in high repute all over
the country. Wooden chairs are also made and sold
here in great quantities. Avellino abounds writh pro¬
visions of every sort; each street is supplied with whole¬
some water; the wine is but indifferent. The soil of
this district, which consists chiefly of volcanic substan¬
ces, produces little corn, but fruit in abundance, of
which the apple is deservedly held in great esteem.
The most profitable, however, of all its fruit-trees is the
hazel. Nut bushes cover the face of the valley, and in ,
good-
A V E [ 264 ] AYE
'Avelh'no good years bring in a profit of sixty thousand ducats
|j (il,250l.)* The nuts are mostly of the large round
Aventine. species of filbert, which we call Spanish. These bushes
U’“”’v were originally imported into Italy from Pontus, and
known among the Homans by the appellation of 'Nux
Pontica, which in process of time was changed into
that of Nux Avcliana, from the place where they had
been propagated with the greatest success. The pro¬
prietors plant them in rows, and by dressing, form them
into large bushes of many stems. Every year they re¬
fresh the roots with new earth, and prune off the strag¬
gling shoots with great attention.
AVE MARIA, the angel Gabriel’s salutation of the
Virgin Mary, when he brought her the tidings of the
incarnation.—It is become a prayer or form of de¬
votion in the Romish church. The chaplets and rosa¬
ries are divided into so many ave-marias, and so many
pater-nosters, to which the Papists ascribe a wonderful
efficacy.
AVENA, Oats. See Botany Index.
AVENACEOUS, something belonging to or par¬
taking of the nature of oats.
AVENAGE, in Law, a certain quantity of oats paid
by a tenant to a landlord, instead of rent or some other
duties.
AVENCHE, an ancient city of Switzerland, in the
canton of Bern, formerly the capital of all Switzerland,
but now shows its former greatness only by its ruins.
E. Long. 7. 7. N. Lat. 46. 50.
AVENES, a small but strong town in French Flan¬
ders, in the county of Hainault, seated on the river
Thespis. It contains about 2700 inhabitants j but the
houses are wretchedly built, and the streets irregular.
It was fortified by M. Vaubian in a strong regular man¬
ner. About this place is a prodigious number of white
stones proper for building, and used by sculptors for sta¬
tues : they are known by the name of Stones of Avenes.
E. Long. 3. 50. N. Lat. 50. 10.
AVENIO, an ancient town of the Cavares, and one
of the most opulent in Gallia Narbonensis 5 now Avig¬
non, in Provence. See Avignon.
AYENOE, an officer belonging to the king’s stables,
who provides oats for the horses. He acts by warrant
from the master of the horse.
AVENS. See Cariophyllus, Botany Index.
A\ENTINE, John, author of the Annals of Ba¬
varia, was born of mean parentage, in the year 1466,
at Abensperg in the country just named. He studied
first at Ingoldstadt, and afterwards in the university of
Paris. In 1503, he privately taught eloquence and
poetry at Vienna; and in 1507 he publicly taught
Greek at Cracow in Poland. In 1509, he read lectures
on some of Cicero’s works at Ingoldstadt: and in 1512,
was appointed to be preceptor to Prince Louis and
Prince Ernest, sons of Albert the Wise, duke of Bava¬
ria, and travelled with the latter of these two princes.
After this he undertook to write the annals of Bava¬
ria; being encouraged by the dukes of that name, who
settled a pension upon him, and gave him hopes that
they would defray the charges of the book. This work,
which gained its author great reputation, was first
published in I554> by Jerome Zieglerus, professor of
poetry in the university of Ingoldstadt; and afterwards
at Basil in 1580, by Nicholas Cisner. An affront which
Aventine received in the year 1529, stuck by him all
the rest of his life : he was forcibly taken out of his sis-
ter’s house at Abensperg, and hurried to jail; the true y ?
cause of which violence was never known : but it would Avenue,
probably have been carried to a much greater length,
had not the duke of Bavaria interposed, and taken this
learned man into his protection. Mr Bayle remarks,
that the incurable melancholy which from this time pos¬
sessed Aventine, was so far from determining him to
lead a life of celibacy, as he had done till he was 64,
that it induced him perhaps to think of marrying. The
violence of his new passion was not, however, so great,
but that it suffered him to advise with two of his friends,
and consult certain passages of the Bible relative to mar¬
riage. The result was, that it was best for him to
marry ; and having already lost too much time, consi¬
dering his age, he took the first woman he met with,
who happened to be his own maid, ill-tempered, ugly,
and extremely poor. He died in 1534, aged 68 ; leav¬
ing one daughter, who was then but two months old.
He had a son, who died before.
AVEN L INES mons, one of the seven hills on
which ancient Rome stood. The origin of the name
Aventinus is uncertain : but this hill was also called
Murcius, from Murcia the goddess of sloth, who had
a little chapel there ; and Collis JDiance, from the temple
of Diana; likewise Remonius, from Remus, who want¬
ed to build the city, and who was buried there. It was
taken within the compass of the city by Ancus Mar-
tius. To the east it had the city walls; to the south,
the Campus Figulinus ; to the west, the Tiber; and to
the north, Mons Palatinus : in circuit two miles and a
quarter.
AVENTURE, in law books, means a mischance
causing the death of a person without felony.
AVENUE, in Gardening, a walk planted on each
side with trees, and leading to a house, garden-gate,
wood, &c. and generally terminated by some distant
object.
All avenues that lead to a house ought to be at least
as wide as the whole front of the house, if wider they
are better still ; and avenues to woods, and prospects,
ought not to be less than 60 feet wide. The trees
should not be planted nearer to one another than 35
feet, especially if they are trees of a spreading kind ;
and the same ought to be the distance, if they are for a
regular grove.
The trees most proper for avenues with us, are the
English elm, the lime, the horse-chesnut, the common
chesnut, the beech, and the abele. The English elm
will do in all grounds, except such as are very wet and
shallow; and this is preferred to all other trees, be¬
cause it w7ill bear cutting, heading, or lopping in any
manner, better than most others. The rough or smooth
Dutch elm is approved by some, because of its quick
growth. This is a tree which will bear removing very
well; it is also green almost as soon as any plant what¬
ever in spring, and continues so as long as any, and it
makes an incomparable hedge, and is preferable to all
other trees for lofty espaliers. The lime is valued for
its natural growth add fine shade. The horse-chesnut
is proper for all places that are not too much exposed
to rough winds. The common chesnut will do very
well in a good soil; and rises to a considerable height,
when planted somewhat close ; though, when it stands
single, it is rather inclined to spread than to grow tall.
The
A V E [ 265 ] AYE
The beech is a beautiful tree, and naturally grows well
with us in its wild state; but it is less to be chosen for
1 avenues than the before-mentioned, because it does not
bear transplanting well, but is very subject to miscarry.
Lastly, the abele is fit for any soil, and is the quickest
grower of any forest-tree. It seldom fails in trans¬
planting 5 and succeeds very well in wet soils, in which
the others are apt to fail. The oak is but little used for
avenues, because of its slow growth.
The old method of planting avenues was with re¬
gular rows of trees, and this has been always kept to
till of late : but we have now a much more magnifi¬
cent way of planting avenues $ this is by setting the
trees in clumps, or platoons, making the opening
much wider than before, and placing the clumps of
trees at about 300 feet distant from one another. In
each of these clumps there should be planted either
seven or nine trees ; but it is to be observed, that this is
only to be practised where the avenue is to be of some
considerable length, for in short walks this will not ap¬
pear so sightly as single rows of trees. The avenues
made by clumps are fittest of all for parks. The trees
in each clump should be planted about 30 feet asunder j
and a trench should be thrown up round the whole
clump, to prevent the deer from coming to the trees to
bark them.
AVENZOAR, Abu Merwan Abdalmalec ebn
Zohr, an eminent Arabian physician, flourished about
the end of the eleventh or the beginning of the twelfth
century. He was of noble descent, and born at Se¬
ville, the capital of Andalusia, where he exercised his
profession with great reputation. His grandfather
and father were both physicians. The large estate he
inherited from his ancesters, set him above practising
altogether for gain : he therefore took no fees from the
poor, or from artificers, though he refused not the pre¬
sents of princes and great men. His liberality was ex¬
tended even to his enemies j for which reason he used to
eay, that they hated him not for any fault of his, but
rather out of envy. Dr Freind writes, that he lived to
the age of 135 j that he began to practise at 40, or (as
others say) at 20 j and had the advantage of a longer
experience than almost any one ever had, for he enjoyed
perfect health to his last hour. He left a son, known
also by the name of Ebn Zohr, who followed his father’s
profession, was in great favour with A1 Mantur emperor
of Morocco, and wrote several treatises of physic.
Avenzoar was cotemporary with Averroes, who, ac¬
cording to Leo Africanus, heard the lectures of the
former, and learned physic of him ; this seems the more
probable, because Averroes more than once gives Aven-
zoar a very high and deserved encomium, calling him
admirable, glorious, the treasure of all knowledge, and
the most supreme in physic from the time of Galen to his
own. Avenzoar, notwithstanding, is by the generality
of writers reckoned an empiric: but DrFreind observes,
that this character suits him less than any of the rest of
the Arabians. “ He was bred,” continues that author,
“ in a physical family, his father and grandfather being
both practitioners, whom he always remembers with
great gratitude and honour. We have his own testimo¬
ny that he had a regular education ; and that he not
only learned what properly belongs to a physician, but,
out of a great desire of knowledge every thing besides
Vol. III. Part I. t
which relates to pharmacy or surgery.” Dr Freind
afterwards observes, “ that he was averse to quackery,
and rejects the idle superstitions of astrologers j and
throughout all his works professes himself so much of
the dogmatical or rational sect, which was directly op¬
posite to the empirical, that he has a great deal of rea¬
soning about the causes and symptoms of distempers ;
and as in his theory he chiefly, if not only, follows Ga¬
len, so he quotes him upon all occasions, oftener than
the rest of the Arabians do. Notwithstanding he is so
Galenical, there are several particulars in him which
seldom or ever occur in other authors j and there are
some cases which he relates from his own experience,
which are worth perusing.” He wrote a book entitled,
Tayassir fdlm&dawat w'altadbir, i. e. “ The method
of preparing medicines and diet 5” which is much
esteemed. This work was translated into Hebrew, in
the year of Christ 1280, and thence into Latin by Pa-
ravicius, whose version has had several editions. The
author added a supplement to it, under the title of
Jdme, or a Collection. He also wrote a treatise Fi'lad-
wiyat wdilaughdiyat, i. e. “ Of Medicines and Food j”
wherein he treats of their qualities.
AVERAGE, in Commerce, signifies the accidents
and misfortunes which happen to ships and their car¬
goes, from the time of their loading and sailing to
their return and unloading; and is divided into three
kinds. 1. The simple or particular average, which
consists in the extraordinary expences incurred for the
ship alone, or for the merchandises alone. Such is the
loss of anchors, masts, and rigging, occasioned by the
common accidents at sea; the damages which happen
to merchants by storm, prize, shipwreck, wet, or rot¬
ting $ all which must be borne and paid by the thing
which suffered the damage. 2. The large and common
average, being those expences incurred, and damages
sustained, for the common good and security both of
the merchandises and vessels, consequently to be borne
by the ship and cargo, and to be regulated upon the
whole. Of this number are the goods or money given
for the ransom of the ship and cargo, things thrown
overboard for the safety of the ship, the expences for
unloading, for entering into a river or harbour, and
the provisions and hire of the sailors when the ship
is put under an embargo. 3. The small averages,
which are the expences for towing and piloting the ship
out of or into harbours, creeks, or rivers, one third of
which must be charged to the ship, and two thirds to
the cargo.
Average is more particularly used for a certain con¬
tribution that merchants make proportionably to their
losses, who have had their goods cast into the sea in
the time of a tempest. It also signifies a small duty
which those merchants, who send goods in another
man’s ship, pay to the master for his care of them over
and above the freight. Hence it is expressed in the
bills of lading, paying so much freight for the said
goods, with primage and average accustomed.
AVERDUPOIS. See Avoirdupois.
AVERNUS, a lake of Campania in Italy, near
Baiae, famous among the ancients for its poisonous
qualities. It is described by Strabo as lying within
the Lucrine bay, deep and darksome, surrounded with
steep banks that hang threatening over it, and only
L1 accessible
Avenzoar
11
Avernus.
A V E [ 266 ] A V E
Avernu*. accessible by the narrow passage through which you
" ~ v sail in. Black aged groves stretched their boughs over
the watery abyss, and with impenetrable foliage exclu¬
ded almost every ray of wholesome light; mephitic,
vapours ascending from the hot bowels ot the earth,
being denied free passage to the upper atmosphere,
floated along the surface in poisonous mists. These
circumstances produced horrors fit for such gloomy
deities ; a colony of Cimmerians, as well suited to the
rites as the place itself, cut dwellings in the bosom of
the surrounding hills, and officiated as priests of Tar¬
tarus. Superstition, always delighting in dark ideas,
early and eagerly seized upon this spot, and hither she
led her ti’embling votaries to celebrate her dismal or¬
gies ; here she evoked the manes of departed heroes—
here she offered sacrifices to the gods of hell, and at¬
tempted to dive into the secrets of futurity. Poets
enlarged upon the popular theme, and painted its awful
scenery with the strongst colours of their art. Ho¬
mer brings Ulysses to Avernus, as to the mouth of the
infernal abodes ; and in imitation of the Grecian bard,
Virgil conducts his hero to the same ground. Who¬
ever sailed thither, first did sacrifice; and endeavoured
to propitiate the infernal powers, with the assistance of
some priests who attended upon the place, and directed
the mystic performance. Within, a fountain of pure
water broke out just over the sea, which w^as fancied
to be a vein of the river Styx ; near this fountain was
the oracle : and the hot waters frequent in those parts
were supposed to be branches of the burning Phlege-
thon. The poisonous effluvia from this lake were said
to be so strong, that they proved fatal to birds endea¬
vouring to fly over it. Virgil ascribes the exhalation
not to the lake itself, but to the cavern near it, which
was called Averting or Cave of the Sybil, and through
which the poets feigned a descent to hell. Plence the
proper name of the lake is Lacug Averni, the “ lake
near the cavern,” as it is called by some ancient au¬
thors.
The holiness of these shades remained unimpeached
for many ages : Hannibal marched his army to offer
incense at this altar; but it may be suspected he was
led to this act of devotion rather by the hopes of surpri¬
sing the garrison of Puteoli, than by his piety. After
a long reign of undisturbed gloom and celebrity, a sud¬
den glare of light was let in upon Avernus ; the horrors
were dispelled, and with them vanished the sanctity of
the lake : the axe of Agrippa brought its forest to the
ground, disturbed its sleepy waters with ships, and gave
room for all its malignant effluvia to escape. The viru¬
lence of these exhalations, as described by ancient au¬
thors, has appeared so very extraordinary, that modern
writers, who know the place in a cleared state only,
charge these accounts with exaggeration : but Mr Swin¬
burne thinks them entitled to more respect; for even
now he observes the air is feverish and dangerous, as
the jaundiced faces of the vine-dressers, who have suc¬
ceeded the Sibyls and Cimmerians in the possession of
the temple, most ruefully testify. Boccacio relates,
that during his residence at the Neapolitan court, the
surface of this lake was suddenly covered with dead fish,
black and singed, as if killed by some subaqueous erup¬
tion of fire.
At present the lake abounds with tench ; the Lu-
erine with eels. The change of fortune in these lakes
is singular: In the splendid days of imperial Rome the
Lucrine was the chosen spot for the brilliant parties of
pleasure of a voluptuous court: now, a slimy bed of
rushes covers the scattered pools of this once beautiful
sheet of water ; while the once dusky Avernus is clear
and serene, oftering a most alluring surface and charm¬
ing scene for similar amusements. Opposite to the tem¬
ple is a cave usually styled the Sibyl’s grotto; but ap¬
parently more likely to have been the mouth of a com¬
munication between Cuma and Avernus, than the abode
of a prophetess; especially as the Sibyl is positively said
by historians to have dwelt in a cavern under the Cu-
mean citadel.
AVERRHOA. See Botany Index.
AVERROES, one of the most subtile philosophers
that ever appeared among the Arabians, flourished at
the end of the nth and beginning of the 12th centu¬
ry. He was the son of the high-priest and chief judge
of Corduba in Spain : he was educated in the univer¬
sity of Morocco ; and studied natural philosophy, me¬
dicine, mathematics, law and divinity. After the
death of his father, he enjoyed his posts; but notwith¬
standing his being exceeding rich, his liberality to men
of letters in necessity, whether they were his friends or
his enemies, made him always in debt. He was after¬
wards stripped of all his posts, and thrown into prison,
for heresy ; but the oppressions of the judge who suc¬
ceeded him, caused him to be restored to his former
employments.
He died at Morocco in the year 1206. He was
excessively fat, though he ate but once a-day. He spent
all his nights in the study of philosophy ; and when he
was fatigued, amused himself with reading poetry or
history. He was never seen to play at any game, or
to partake in any diversion. Pie was extremely fond
of Aristotle’s works, and wrote commentaries on them ;
whence he was styled the commentator, by way of emi¬
nence. He likewise wrote a work on the whole art of
physic, and many amorous verses ; but when he grew
old, he threw these last into the fire. His other poems
are lost, except a small piece, in which he says,
“ That when he was young, he acted against his rea¬
son ; but that when he was in years, he followed its
dictates upon which he utters this wish ; “ Would
to God I had been born old, and that in my youth I
had been in a state of perfection !” as to religion, his
opinions were, that Christianity is absurd ; Judaism,
the religion of children ; Mahometanism, the religion of
swine.
A VERROISTS, a sect of Peripatetic philosophers,
who appeared in Italy some time before the restoration
of learning, and attacked the immortality of the soul.
They took their denomination from Averroes, the
celebrated interpreter of Aristotle (see the preceding
article), from whom they borrowed their distinguishing
doctrine.
The Averroists, who held the soul was mortal, ac¬
cording to reason or philosophy, yet pretended to submit
to the Christian theology, which declares it immortal.
But the distinction was held suspicious ; and this di¬
vorce of faith from reason was rejected by the doctors
of that time, and condemned by the last council of the
Lateran under Leo X.
AVERRUNCI (dei)); certain gods, whose business
it was, according to the Pagan theology, to avert mis¬
fortunes.
AUG
.Terrunci
*uge.
fortunes. Apollo and Hercules were of the number of
these gods among the Greeks j and Castor and Pollux
among the Romans.
1 AVERSA, a town of Italy in the kingdom of Na¬
ples, with a bishop’s see. It is situated in a very fine
plain, in E. Long. 14. 20. N. Lat. 41. o.
AVERSION, according to Lord Karnes, is opposed
to affection, and not to desire, as it commonly is. We
have an affection to one person $ We have an aversion to
another 5 the former disposes us to do good to its object,
the latter to do ill.
AVERTI, in Horsemanship, is applied to a regular
step or motion enjoined in the lessons. In this sense
they say pas averte, sometimes pas ecouti, and pas
d'ecole, which all denote the same. The word is mere
French, and signifies advised.
AVES, one of the Carribbee islands, 451 miles south
of Porto Rico, with a good harbour for careening of
ships. It is so called from the great number of birds
that frequent it. There is another of the same name
lying to the northward of this, in N. Lat. 15. o. j and
a third near the eastern coast of Newfoundland, in
N. Lat. 50. 5.
Aves, Birds, the name of Linnaeus’s second class of
animals. See Ornithology.
AVESBURY, Robert, an English historian, of
whom little more is known than that he was keeper
of the registery of the court of Canterbury in the reign
of Edward III. and consequently that he lived in the
14th century. He wrote, Memorabilia gesta magnijici
regis Anghce domini Edieardi tertii post conqueslum,
procerumque ; tactis primitus quibusdam gestis de tem¬
pore patris sui domini Edwardi secitndi, qvcr in regnis
Anghce, Scotice, et Francice, ac in Aquitania et Britan¬
nia, non humana sed Dei potentia, contigerunt, per
Robertum de Avesbury. This history ends with the
battle of Poictiers, about the year 1356. It continued
in manuscript till the year 1720, when it was printed
by the industrious Thomas Ilearne at Oxford, from a
manuscript belonging to Sir Thomas Seabright. It is
now become very scarce.
AVEZZANO, a town of Italy in the kingdom of
Naples, in the Farther Abruzzo. It is built on an al¬
most imperceptible declivity, one mile from the lake
ot Celano, to which an avenue of poplar's leads from
the baronial castle. This edifice stands at a little di¬
stance from the town, is square, and flanked with towers;
it was erected by Virginio Orsini, to which family
this and many other great lordships belonged, before
they were wrested from them in times of civil war, and
transferred to the Colonnas. Avezzano was founded in
860, and contains 2700 inhabitants, and two religious
communities within its walls, which are indeed in a
ruinous condition. The houses are in general mean ;
but there are some large buildings and opulent families
of the class of gentlemen, not possessed of fees held in
capite.
AUGE, formerly a territory of Normandy in France,
which gave title to a viscount. It extends from Falaise
and Argenton as far as the sea, between the rivers
Hives, \ ie, and Tongues. The arable land is stiff, and
produces but littie good corn : but they sow sainfoin ;
which succeeds so well that they have five good crops
successively; they likewise sow flax and hemp; and have
a vast quantity of apples, with which they make cy-
[ 267 ]
AUG
der. Horses are bred here in great numbers; and the
inhabitants fatten the oxen which come from Poictou
and Britanny.
AUGEAS, in fabulous history, was king of Elis,
and particularly famed for his stable, which contained
3000 oxen, and had not been cleaned for 30 years,
Hercules was desired to clear away the filth from this
stable in one day; and Augeas promised, if he per¬
formed it, to give him a tenth part of the cattle. This
task Hercules is said to have executed by turning the
course of the river Alpheus through the stable ; when
Augeas refusing to stand by his engagement, Hercules
slew him with his arrows, and gave his kingdom to
Phyleus his son, who had shown an abhorrence of his
father’s insincerity.
AUGMENT, in Grammar, an accident of certain
tenses of Greek verbs, being either the prefixing of a
syllable, or an increase of the quantity of the initial
vowels.
AUGMENTATION, in a general sense, is the act
of adding or joining something to another with a design
to render it large.
Augmentation is also used for the additament or
thing added.
Augmentation was also the name of a court erect¬
ed 27 Hen. VIII. so called from the augmentation of
the revenues of the crowm, by the suppression of religi¬
ous houses ; and the office still remains, wherein there
are many curious records, though the court has been dis¬
solved long since.
Augmentation, in Heraldry, are additional char¬
ges to a coat-armour, frequently given as particular
marks of honour, and generally borne either in the es¬
cutcheon or a conton ; as have all the baronets of Eng¬
land, who have borne the arms of the province of Ulster
in Ireland.
AUGRE, or Awgre, an instrument used by carpen¬
ters and joiners to bore large round holes ; and consist¬
ing of a wooden handle, and an iron blade terminated
at bottom with a steel bit.
AUGSBURG, a city of Germany, in the king¬
dom of Bavaria, seated near the confluence of the
Ardech and Lech, in one of the most beautiful plains
that can be imagined. It is one of the largest and
handsomest cities of the empire ; but the fortifications
are after the old manner, and very irregular ; the streets
are broad and straight ; the houses mostly of timber,
plastered and whitened without, or adorned with paint¬
ings; the rest are of freestone; the churches and foun¬
tains are generally ornamented with fine figures of brass.
Many of the churches are stately, and adorned within
with curious workmanship and paintings. That part
of the city erected by the noble family of the Fuggers,
who are lords of the adjacent country, consists of seve¬
ral streets crosswise, containing 106 houses : the poor
people that inhabit them are maintained by an annual
pension. Its magnificent town-house is little inferior
to that of Amsterdam, being a vast square stone build¬
ing, with a marble portico ; at the top of the front,
w'ithin the pediment, is a large spread eagle, hold¬
ing a sceptre and globe, in its talons, of brass gilt,
said to weigh 2200 weight ; the great portal is of a
very beautiful reddish marble, over which is a balcony
of the same colour, supported by two pillars of white
marble ; over the gate there are two large griffins of
L 1 2 brass r
AUG [ 268 ] AUG
Augsburg brass; most of the rooms are wainscotted ami ceiled
\r—■' with very fine timber : the great hall is very magnifi¬
cent, and paved with marble ; it is 110 feet long, 58
broad, and 52 high, and its roof is supported by eight
columns of red marble : the ceiling of the upper wall
is of very curious workmanship of polished ash, consist¬
ing of compartments, the squares and pannels of which
are enriched with gilded sculptures, and filled with
pictures and other ornaments 5 this is likewise support¬
ed by eight pillars, with bases and chapiters of brass :
the other rooms are handsomely adorned with very fine
paintings.
In the square, near the town-house, is the fountain
of Augustus, which is a marble bason, surrounded with
iron ballustrades finely wrought: at the four corners are
four brass statues, as big as the life, two of which are
women and two men •, in the middle of the bason is a
pedestal, at the foot of which are four large sphinxes
squirting water out of their breasts ; a little above these
are four infants holding four dolphins in their arms,
which pour water out of their mouths : and over these
infants are festoons and pine-apples all of brass ; upon
the pedestal, is the statue of Augustus as large as the
life. The fountain most remarkable next to this is that
of Hercules, which is a hexagon bason with several
brass figures, particularly Hercules engaging the hydra.
Another curiosity is the secret gate, which was contri¬
ved to let in persons safely in time of war : it has so
many engines and divisions with gates and keys, and
apartments for guards at some distance from each other,
where passengers are examined, that it is impossible for
the town to be surprised this way $ the gates are bolted
and unbolted, opened and shut, by unseen operators,
insomuch that it looks like enchantment. The water-
towers are also very curious, of which there are three
seated on a branch of the river Lech, which runs through
the city in such a torrent as to drive many mills, which
work a number of pumps that raise the water in large
leaden pipes to the tops of the towers j one of these
sends water to the public fountains, and the rest to near
IOOO houses in the city.
The Lutherans have a college here, which is a vast
square building, with a fine clock on the top of the
front. In this there are seven different classes, a hall
for public disputations, and a theatre for dramatic repre¬
sentations. The cathedral is a large, gloomy, Gothic
building, with two spire steeples; it is adorned with
paintings upon whimsical subjects, and has a great gate
all of brass, over which are several scripture passages
well represented in basso-relievo. The Jesuits had a
splendid college here, with a church full of gilding,
painting, and carving j and a fine library. Though
half the inhabitants are Lutherans, there are a great
many Popish processions. There are no Jews in the
town, nor are they sufiered to lie there \ but they in¬
habit a village at about a league distance, and pay so
much an hour for the liberty of trading in the day¬
time. The Benedictine abbey is a vast Gothic build¬
ing, the ceiling of which is said to be the highest in
Germany, and overlooks all the rest of the churches j
it is adorned with several statues, and has one very
grand altar. The church of St Croix is one of the
handsomest in Augsburg for architecture, painting,
sculpture, gilding, and a fine spire.
Hie inhabitants look upon Augustus Caesar as the
founder of the town : it is true, that that emperor sent Augsburg,
a colony there ; but the town was already founded, —
though he gave it the name of Augusta Vindelicorum.
Augsburg, indeed, is one of the oldest towns in Ger¬
many, and one of the most remarkable of them, as it
is there and at Nuremberg that you meet with the
oldest marks of German art and industry. In the 14th
and 15th centuries, the commerce of this town was
the most extensive of any part of south Germany, and
contributed much to the civilization of the country, by
the works of art and variety of necessaries to the com¬
fort and convenience of life which it was the means of
introducing. Many things originated in this town
which have had a great influence on the happiness of
mankind. Not to mention the many important diets
of the empire held here $ here, in 952, did a council
confirm the order for the celibacy of priests j here, in
I53°, was the confession of faith of the Protestants
laid before the emperor and other estates of Germany j
and here, in 1555, was signed the famous treaty of
peace, by which religious liberty was secured to Ger¬
many.
Though the Protestants were very powerful at Augs¬
burg, they could not keep their ground : for the Ba¬
varians drove them from thence: but Gustavus Adol¬
phus restored them again in 1632; since which time
they have continued there, and share the government
with the Catholics. In 1703, the elector of Bavaria
took the city after a siege of seven days, and demolish¬
ed the fortifications: however the battle of Hochstedt
restored their liberty, which they enjoyed under the go¬
vernment of their own magistrates, till the French re¬
volution. It was suffered to continue a free city in
1803, but was united to Bavaria in 1807. The chap¬
ter is composed of persons of quality, who are to bring
proofs of their nobility, and the canons have a right of
electing their own bishop.
The police of the place is very good : and though
the town has no territory, it has no debts. Augsburg
is, however, no longer what it was. It no longer
has a Fugger and a Welser in it to lend the emperor
millions. In this large and handsome town, formerly
one of the greatest trading towns in Germany, there are
no merchants at present to be found who have capitals
of more than 20,oool. The others, most of whom must
have their coaches, go creeping on with capitals of
3000I. or 4000I. and do the business of brokers and
commissioners. Some houses, however, carry on a lit¬
tle banking trade $ and the way through Tyrol and
Graubundten occasions some little exchange between
this place and Germany. After these brokers and
doers of business by commission, the engravers, statu¬
aries, and painters, are the most reputable of the la¬
bouring part of the city. Their productions, like the
toys of Nuremberg, go everywhere. There are al¬
ways some people of genius amongst them ; but the
small demand for their art affords them so little en¬
couragement, that to prevent starving they are mostly
confined to the small religious works which are done
elsewhere by Capuchin monks. They furnish all Ger¬
many with little pictures for prayer books, and to
hang in the citizens houses. There is an academy of
arts instituted here under the protection of the magi¬
strates : the principal aim of which is to produce good
mechanics, and preserve the manufactures of the citv.
This
AUG [ 269 ] AUG
m^bnrg This town, which is nine miles and a half in circum-
[] ference, contains, according to Mr Riesbeck, hardly
Uigirale. 30,000 inhabitants : hut Mr Nicolai makes them about
~ 35.00.0' ....
This city has its drinking water from the river Lech,
which runs at some distance from it; and the aqueducts
which convey the water are much to be admired. It is
a central depositary of the Neckar, Tyrolese, Italian,
and Greek wines. Another important branch of traf¬
fic here is that of bookselling and publishing, especially
in Catholic literature. The Catholics have six churches
and eight monasteries here, and the Lutherans six
churches ; but the former considerably exceed the lat¬
ter in point of numbers. This city was first constituted
the capital of the circle of the Lech, hut was joined in
1810 to that of the Iller, of which Kempten is now
the chief town. The elector of Treves fixed his resi¬
dence here after the secularisation of his territeries.
A wooden bridge of ingenious structure was built over
the Lech at Augsburg in 1808. In the war of 1756,
the citizens were divided into equal parties for the two
courts. The Catholics considered the emperor as their
god, and the Protestants did the same by the king of
Prussia. The flame of religion had almost kindled a
bloody civil war amongst them.—The bishop takes his
name from this town, but resides at Dillingen. He
has an income of about 20,oool. per annum. As a
proof of the Catholicism of this place, the Pope through¬
out his whole progress met nowhere with such honours
as he did here. This he owed to his friends the Je¬
suits, who had great influence in this place. E. Long.
10. 58. N. Lat. 48. 24.
Augsburg Confession^ denotes a celebrated confes¬
sion of faith drawn up by Luther and Melancthon, on
behalf of themselves and other ancient reformers, and
presented in 1530 to the emperor Charles V. at the
diet of Augusta or Augsburg, in the name of the
evangelic body. This confession contains 28 chapters;
of which the greatest part is employed in representing,
with perspicuity and truth, the religious opinions of
the Protestants, and the rest in pointing out the errors
and abuses that occasioned their separation from the
church of Rome.
AUGUR, an officer among the Romans appointed
to foretel future events, by the chattering, flight, and
feeding of birds. There was a college or community
of them, consisting originally of three members, with
respect to the three tribes, the Luceres, Ramnenses,
and Tatienses : afterwards the number was increased
to nine, four of whom were patricians and five ple¬
beians. They bore an augural staff or wand, as the
ensign ol their authority ; and their dignity was so
much respected, that they were never deposed, or any
substituted in their place, though they should be con¬
victed of the most enormous crimes. See Augury.
AUGURAL, something relating to the augurs.—
The augural instruments are represented on several
ancient medals.
Augural Supper, that given by a priest on his first
admission into the order, called also by Varro Adjici-
alis.
Augural Books, those wherein the discipline and
rules of augury were laid down.
AUGURALE, the place in a camp where the ger
neral took auspicia. This answered to the Augurato- Augural®
Hum in the city. |]
Augurale is also used in Seneca for the ensign or ^Uknil'-Y'
badge of an augur, as the lituus. ~ v
AUGU RATORIUM, a building on the Palatine
mount, where public auguries were taken.
AUGURY, in its proper sense, the art of foretelling
future events by observations taken from the chatter¬
ing, singing, feeding, and flight, of birds ; though it is
used by some writers in a more general signification, as
comprising all the different kinds of divination.
Augury was a very ancient superstition. We know
from Hesiod, that husbandry was in part regulated bv
the coming or going of birds : and most probably it
had been in use long before his time, as astronomy was
then in its infancy. In process of time, these animals
seem to have attained a greater and very wonderful au¬
thority, till at last no affair of consequence, either oL
private or public concern, was undertaken without
consulting them. They were looked upon as the in¬
terpreters of the gods ; and those who were qualified
to understand their oracles were held among the chief
men in the Greek and Roman states, and became the
assessors of kings, and even of Jupiter himself. How¬
ever absurd such an institution as a college of augurs
may appear in our eyes, yet, like all other extrava¬
gant institutions, it had in part its origin from nature.
When men considered the wonderful migration of
birds, how they disappeared at once, and appeared
again at stated times, and could give no guess where
they went, it was almost natural to suppose that they
retired somewhere out of the sphere of this earth, and
perhaps approached the ethereal regions, where they
might converse with the gods, and thence be enabled
to predict events. It was almost natural for a super¬
stitious people to imagine this ; at least to believe it, as
soon as some impostor was impudent enough to assert
it. Add to this, that the disposition in some birds to
imitate the human voice, must contribute much to the
confirmation of such a doctrine. This institution of
augury seems to have been much more ancient than
that of aruspicy ; for we find many instances of the for¬
mer in Homer, but not a single one of the latter, though
frequent mention is made of sacrifices in that author.
From the whole of what has been observed, it seems
probable that natural augury gave rise to religious au¬
gury, and this to aruspicy, as the mind of man makes
a very easy transition from a little truth to a great deal
of error.
A passage in Aristophanes gave the hint for these
observations. In the comedy of the Birds, he makes
one of them say this : “ The greatest blessings which
can happen to you mortals, are derived from us. First,
we show you the seasons, viz. spring, winter, au¬
tumn. The crane points out the time for sowing,
when she flies with her warning notes into Egypt; she
bids the sailor hang up his rudder and take his rest,
and every prudent man provide himself with winter
garments. Next the kite appearing, proclaims another
season, viz. when it is time to shear his sheep. After
that the swallow informs you when it is time to-put on
summer clothes. We are to you, (adds the chorus),
Ammon, Dodona, Apollo : for, after consulting us,
you undertake every thing; merchandise, purchases,
marriages,,,
j.
AUG [ 270 ] AUG
Augury marriages,” &c. Now, it seems not improbable, that
11 the same transition was made in the speculations of men
Augusta, which appears in the poet’s words; and that they were
easily induced to think, that the surprising foresight of
birds, as to the time of migration, indicated something
of a divine nature in them ; which opinion Virgil, as
an Epicurean, thinks fit to enter his protest against,
when he says,
Hand equidem credo, quia sit divinitas Mis
Ingenium.
But to return to Aristophanes. The first part of
the chorus, from whence the fore-cited passage is ta¬
ken, seems, with all its wildness, to contain the fabu¬
lous cant, which the augurs made use of in order to ac¬
count for their impudent impositions on mankind. It
sets out with cosmogony ; and says, That in the be¬
ginning were Chaos and Night, and Erebus and Tar¬
tarus : That there was neither water, nor air, nor sky :
That Night laid an egg, from whence, after a time*
Love arose : That Love, in conjunction with Erebus,
produced a third kind; and that they were the first of
the immortal race, &c.
AUGUST, (augustus'), in a general sense, something
majestic, venerable, or sacred. The appellation was first
conferred by the Roman senate upon Octavius, after his
being confirmed by them in the sovereign power. It
was conceived as expressing something divine, or elevated
above the pitch of mankind, being derived from the verb
augeo, “ I increase,” tanquam supra humanam sortem
auctus. See Augustus.
August, in Chronology, the eighth month of our
year, containing 31 days. August was dedicated to
the honour of Augustus Ceesar, because, in the same
month, he was created consul, thrice triumphed in
Rome, subdued Egypt to the Roman empire, and
made an end of civil wars, being before called Sextilis,
or the sixth month from March.
AUGUSTA, or Austa, an island in the Adriatic
sea on the coast of Dalmatia, near Ragusa, subject to
Venice. E. Long. 17. 50. N. Lat. 42. 35.
Augusta, a town of Georgia in North America.
See Georgia.
Augusta Ausciorum, a town of Aquitania, so na¬
med out of compliment to Augustus, being originally
called Climberrum, which name it afterwards resumed.
In the middle age, it took the name of the people^
Ausci; and is now called Auch, the capital of Gas¬
cony.
Augusta Ementa, a town of Lusitania, on the river
Anas,, the capital of the province : a colony of the
Emeriti, or such soldiers as had served out their legal
time, were men of experience, or had received marks
of favour. The colony was founded by Augustus : and
is now called Merida, a city of Spain, in Estremadura
on the river Guadiana. See Merida.
Augusta Pretoria, a town and colony of Gallia
Cisalpina, and capital of the Salassi 5 seated at the foot
. of the Alpes Graiae on the Duria. Now Aouste in Pied¬
mont. See Aouste.
Augusta Rauracorum, a town of Gallia Belgica ;
now a small village called August, at the bend o&f the
Rhine northward j but from the ruins, which are still
to be seen, it appears to have been a considerable
3
colony, at the distance of six miles from Basil to the Augusts
east. i
Augusta Suessonum, a town of Gallia Belgica on AuSustin.
the Axona j so called from Augustus, and with great
probability supposed to be the Noviodunum Suessonum
of Caesar. Now Soissons, on the river Aisne, in the
Isle of France. See Soissons.
Augusta Taurinorum, a town of the Taurini at the
foot of the Alps, where the Duria Minor falls into the
Po; now Turin, the capital of Piedmont.
Augusta Ireba, a town of the Aiqui, near the
spring of the river Anio in Italy ; now Trevi, in Um¬
bria, on the east of the Campagna di Roma.
Augusta Trevirorum, a town of the Treviri, a
people inhabiting between the Rhine and the Meuse,
but especially about the Moselle 5 now Triers, or
Treves, in the circle of the Lower Rhine, on the Mo¬
selle.
Augusta Vindelicorum, a town of the Licates on
the LicuS $ called by Tacitus a noble colony of Rhce-
tia ; now Augsburg, capital of Suabia.
Augusta Historia is the history of the Roman em¬
perors from the time of Adrian to Carinus, that is,
from the year of our Lord 157 to 285, composed by
six Latin writers, JE\. Spartianus, Julius Capitolinus,
All. Lampridius, \ ulcatius Gallicanus, Trebellius Pol-
lio, and Flavius Vopiscus.
. AUGUSTALES, in Roman antiquity, an epithet
given to the flamens or priests appointed to sacrifice to
Augustus after his deification ; and also to the ludi or
games celebrated in honour of the same prince on the
fourth of the ides of October.
AUGUSTALIA, a festival instituted by the Ro¬
mans in honour of Augustus Caesar, on his return to
Rome, after having settled peace in Sicily, Greece, Sy¬
ria., Asia, and Parthia 5 on which occasion they likewise
built an altar to him, inscribed Fortunce reduci.
AUGUSTALIS pigefectus, a title peculiar to a
Roman magistrate who governed Egypt, with a power
much like that of a proconsul in other provinces.
AUGUSTAN confession. See Augsburg Con-
Jession.
AUGUSTIN, or Austin, St, the first archbishop
of Canterbury, was originally a monk in the convent
of St Andrew at Rome, and educated under St Gregory,
afterwards Pope Gregory I. by whom he was des¬
patched into Britain with 40 other monks of the same
order, about the year 596, to convert the English
Saxons to Christianity. They landed in the isle of
Thanet ; and having sent some French interpreters to
King Ethelbert with an account of their errand, the
king gave them leave to convert as many of his sub¬
jects at they could, and assigned their place of resi¬
dence, at Durovernum, since called Canterbury; to
which they were confined till the king himself was con¬
verted, whose example had a powerful influence in pro¬
moting the conversion of his subjects j but though he
was extremely pleased at their becoming Christians, he
never attempted to compel them. He despatched a
priest and a monk to Rome, to acquaint the pope with
the success of his mission, and to desire his resolution
of certain questions. These men brought back with
them a pall, and several books, vestments, utensils, and
ornaments for the churches. His holiness, by the same
messengers,
AUG [ 271 ] AUG
ugu<tin, messengers, gave Augustin directions concerning the
ngustine. settling of episcopal sees in Britain ; and ordered him
—v—' not to pull down the idol-temples, but to convert them
into Christian churches5 only destroying the idols, and
sprinkling the place with holy water, that the natives,
by frequenting the temples they had been always ac¬
customed to, might be the less shocked at their entrance
into Christianity. Augustin resided principally at Can¬
terbury, which thus became the metropolitan church
of England ; and having established bishops in several
of the cities, he died on the 26th May, 607. The
Popish writers ascribe several miracles to him. The
observation of the festival of St Augustin was first en¬
joined in a synod held under Cuthbert archbishop of
Canterbury, and afterwards by the pope’s bull in the
reign of King Edward III.
AUGUSTINE, St, an illustrious father of the
church, was born at Thagaste, a city of Numidia, on
the 13th of November 354* Elis father, a burgess
of that city, was called Patricius; and his mother,
Monica, who being a woman of great virtue, instructed
him in the principles of the Christian religion. In
his early youth he was in the rank of the catechumens j
and falling dangerously ill, earnestly desired to he bap¬
tized ; but the violence of the distemper ceasing, his
baptism was delayed. His father, who was not yet
baptized, made him study at Thagaste, Madaura, and
afterwards at Carthage. Augustine having read Ci¬
cero’s books of philosophy, began to entertain a love
for wisdom, and applied himself to the study of the
Holy Scriptures 5 nevertheless, he suffered himself to
be seduced by the Manicheans. At the age of 19,
he returned to I hagaste, and taught grammar, and
also frequented the bar: he afterwards taught rhetoric
at Carthage with applause. The insolence of the
scholars at Carthage made him take a resolution to go
to Rome, though against his mother’s will. Here also
he had many scholars j but disliking them, he quitted
Rome, and settled at Milan, and was chosen public
professor of rhetoric in that city. Here he had oppor¬
tunities of hearing the sermons of St Ambrose, which,
together with the study of St Paul’s epistles, and the
conversion of two of his friends, determined him to
retract his errors, and quit the sect of the Manicheans;
this was in the 3 2d year of his age. In the vacation of
the year 386, he retired to the house of a friend of his,
named Verecundus, where he seriously applied himself
to the study of the Christian religion, in order to pre¬
pare himself for baptism, which he received at Easter
m the year 387. Soon after this, his mother came to
see him at Milan, and invite him back to Carthage ; but
at Ostia, whither he went to embark in order to his
return, she died. He arrived in Africa about the end
of the year 388 ; and having obtained a garden-plot
without the walls of the city of Hippo, he associated
himself with n other persons of eminent sanctity, who
distinguished themselves by w'earing leathern girdles,
and lived there in a monastic way for the space of three
years, exercising themselves in fasting, prayer, study,
and meditation, day and night : from hence sprung
np the Augustine friars, or eremites of St Augustine,
being the first order of mendicants ; those of St Jerome,
the Carmelites, and others, being but branches of this
of St Augustine. About this time, or before, Vale¬
rius bishop of Hippo, against his will, ordained him
priest: nevertheless, he continued to reside in his little Anmstine
monastery, with his brethren, who, renouncing all Augustins!
property, possessed their goods in common. Valerius, ~~—v" '
who had appointed St Augustine to preach in his place,
allowed him to do it in his presence, contrary to the
custom of the churches in Africa. He explained the
creed, in a general council of Africa, held in 393.
Two years after, Valerius, fearing he might be pre¬
ferred to be bishop of another church, appointed him
his coadjutor or colleague, and caused him to be or¬
dained bishop of Hippo, by Megalus bishop of Ca-
lame, then primate of Numidia. St Augustine died
the 28th day of August, 430, aged 76 years, having
had the misfortune to see his country invaded by the
Vandals, and the city where he was bishop besieged for
seven months,
T. he works of St Augustine make ten volumes : the
best edition of them is that of Maurin, printed at
Antwerp, in 1700. They are but little read at this
time, except by the clergy of the Greek church and
in the Spanish universities. The booksellers of Lon¬
don receive frequent commissions for them, and indeed
for the most of the fathers, from Russia, and also from
Spain.
Augustine, St, a fort ol North America, on the
east coast of Cape Florida, situated in W. Long. 81.
40. N. Lat. 30. O. This fort was built by the Spa¬
niards ; who were scarce well established there when
they were attacked by Sir Francis Drake in 1586, who
reduced and pillaged the fort and town adjacent. In
1665, it underwent a similar fate, being attacked by
Captain Davis at the head of a considerable company
of bucaniers. In 1702 an attempt tvas made by
Colonel More to annex St Augustine to the British do¬
minions. He invested it with only 500 English and
700 Indians; but succours having arrived, he found it
necessary to raise the siege, and retire with precipita¬
tion. In 1740, another unsuccessful attempt was made
on this fort by General Oglethorpe: it was, however,
together with the whole country of Florida, ceded to
Great Britain by the treaty of Paris in 1763 ; but was
restored to Spain by the treaty of peace 1783. In
1817 the white population of the town consisted of about
1000 persons, of whom 150 were able to carry arms.
There were about 150 white regular troops, and 250
black or coloured regulars, and 500 slaves.
Augustine, a cape of South America. W. Long.
35. 4. S. Lat. 8. 30.
AUGUSTINS, or Augustinians, an order of
religious ; thus called from St Augustine, whose rule
they observe. The Augustins, popularly also called "
Austin friars, were originally hermits, whom Pope
Alexander IV. first congregated into one body, under
their general Lanfranc, in 1256. Soon after their in¬
stitution, this order was brought into England, where
they had about thirty-two houses at the time of their
suppression.
The Augustins are clothed in black, and make one
of the four orders of mendicants. From these arose a
reform, under the denomination of bai'e-foot Augustins,
or Minorets, or Friars minor.
There are also canons regular of St Augustine, who
are clothed in white, excepting their cope, which is
black. At Paris they were known under the denomination
of re/zg-foMA1 0/"Genevieve ; that abbey was the chief
o f ,/
AUG [ 272 ] AVI
Augustins of the order. There are also nuns and canonesses, who
I! observe the rules of St Augustine.
Augustus. AugusTINIANS are also those divines who maintain,
v ' on the authority of St Augustine, that GRACE is effec¬
tual from its nature, absolutely and morally, and not re¬
latively and gradually. They are divided into rigid and
AUGUSTOBONA, a city of the Tricassers in an¬
cient Gaul, from whom it was afterwards called Tricas-
ses, and Trecassce ; and still farther corrupted to Thru-
cce, or Treci; whence the modern name Troyes, in
Champagne, on the Seine. See Troyes.
AUGUSTODUNUM, the capital of the JEdm,
where there was a famous academy or school for the
education of youth ; now Austun, or Autun, in the du¬
chy of Burgundy, on the Arroux. See AutUN.
AUGUSTOMAGUS, an ancient town of Gallia
Belgica; now Senlis, in the Isle of France. E. Long.
2. 30. N. Lat. 49. 10.
AUGUSTORLTUM, in Ancient Geography, accord¬
ing to some authors, the capital of the Pictones, after¬
wards called Pictavi; now Poictiers. But by Anto-
nine’s Itinerary from Burdigala to Argantomagus (or
Argenton, as it is interpreted by many), it can be no
other but the capital of the Lemovices, now Limoges,
situated between Vesunna of the Petrocorii, or Perigeux,
and Argantomagus. E. Long. 1. 22. Lat. 45. 52.
AUGUSTOW, a small but strong town of Poland,
in the department of Lomza, seated on the river
Narieu. E. Long. 24. 2. N. Lat. 53. 25.
AUGUSTUS, Fort, a small fortress seated on a
plain at the head of Loch Ness in Scotland, between the
rivers Taarf and Oich j the last is a considerable
stream, and bas over it a stone bridge of three arches.
The fort consists of four bastions : within is the go¬
vernor’s house, and barracks for 400 men ; it was
taken by the rebels in 1746, who immediately deserted
it after demolishing what they could. The name of
this fort in Erse is Kill Chumin, or the burial place
of the Cumins. It lies on the road to the isle of
Sky, which is about 52 miles offj but on the whole
way there is not a place fit for the reception of man or
horse.
Augustus, the appellation conferred upon Caesar
Octavianns, the first Roman emperor. See OcTAVIA-
nus, and Rome.
The obscure name Octavianus, Mr Gibbon ob¬
serves, he derived from a mean family, in the little
town of Aricia. It was stained with the blood of the
proscription •, and he was desirous, had it been possible,
to erase all memory of his former life. The illustrious
surname of Ccesar he had assumed, as the adopted son
of the dictator •, but he had too much good sense either
to hope to be confounded, or to wish to be compared,
with that extraordinary man. It was proposed in the
senate, to dignify their minister with a new appella¬
tion ; and after a very serious discussion, that of Au¬
gustus was chosen among several others, as being the
most expressive of the character of peace and sanctity,
which he uniformly affected. Augustus was therefore a
personal, Ccesar a family, distinction. The former should
naturally have expired with the prince on whom it was
bestowed : and however the latter was diffused by adop¬
tion and female alliance, Nero was the last prince who
2
Augustus
could allege any hereditary claims to the honour of the
Julian line. But at the time of his death, the practice
of a century had inseparably connected those appella- Avicenna,
tions with the imperial dignity, and they have been ''““Y'--'
preserved by a long succession of emperors, Romans,
Greeks, Franks, and Germans, from the fall of the re¬
public to the present time. A distinction was, how¬
ever, soon introduced. The sacred title of Augustus was
always reserved for the monarch j the name of Ccesar
was more freely communicated to his relations *, and
from the reign of Hadrian at least, was appropriated to
the second person in the state, who was considered as
the presumptive heir of the empire.
AVIARY, a place set apart for feeding and propa¬
gating birds. It should be so large as to give the birds
some freedom of flight j and turfed, to avoid the appear¬
ance of foulness on the floor.
AVICENNA, or AviceNES, the prince of Arabian
philosophers and physicians, was born at Assena, a vil¬
lage in the neighbourhood of Bokhara. His father was
from Balkh in Persia, and had married at Bokhara. The
first years of Avicenna were devoted to the study of the
Koran and the belles lettres. He soon showed what he
was likely to become afterwards $ and the progress he
made was so rapid, that when he was but ten years old,
he ivas perfectly intelligent in the most hidden senses of
the Koran.
Abou-Abdoullah, a native of Napoulous in Syria,
at that time professed philosophy at Bokhara with the
greatest reputation. Avicenna studied under him the
principles of logic but soon, disgusted with the slow
manner of the schools, he set about studying alone,
and read all the authors that had written on philosophy,
without any other help than that of their commentators.
Mathematics had no fewer charms for him j and after
reading the first six propositions of Euclid, he got
alone to the last, having made himself perfect master of
them, and treasured up all of them equally in his me¬
mory.
Possessed with an extreme avidity to be acquainted
with all sorts of sciences, he likewise devoted himself to
the study of medicine. Persuaded that this divine art
consists as much in practice as in theory, he sought all
opportunities of seeing the sick j and afterwards confes¬
sed, that he had learned more from experience than
from all the old books he had read. He was now in his
16th year, and already was celebrated for being the
light of his age. He resolved at this age to resume his
studies of philosophy, which medicine had made him ne¬
glect ; and he spent a year and a half in this painful la¬
bour, without ever sleeping all this time a whole night
together. If he felt himself oppressed by sleep, or ex¬
hausted by study, a glass of wine refreshed his wasted
spirits, and gave him new vigour for study ; if in spite
of him his eyes for a few minutes shut out the light, it
then happened to him to recollect and meditate upon all
the things that had occupied his thoughts before sleep.
At the age of 21, he conceived the bold design of in¬
corporating, in one work, all the objects of human
knowledge j and carried it into execution in an Ency¬
clopedic of 20 volumes, to which he gave the title of
the Utility of Utilities.
Several great princes had been taken dangerously ill,
and Avicenna was the only one that could know their
ailments
AVI [ 273 ] AVI
ficcnna. a»d cure them. His reputation increased daily,
and all the kings of Asia desired to retain him in their
families.
Mahmud, the son of Sabektekin, the first sultan of
the dynasty of the Samanides, was then the most
powerful prince of the east. Imagining that an im¬
plicit obedience should be paid by all manner of per¬
sons to the injunctions of his will, he wrote a haughty
letter to Mamun sultan of Kharazm, ordering him to
send Avicenna to him, who was at his court, with se¬
veral other learned man. Philosophy, the friend of li¬
berty and independence, looks down with scorn on the
shackles of compulsion and restraint. Avicenna, ac¬
customed to the most flattering distinction among the
great, could not endure the imperious manner of Mah¬
mud’s inviting him to his court, and refused to go
there. But the sultan of Karazm, who dreaded his
resentment, obliged the philosopher to depart with
others whom that prince had demanded to be sent to
him.
Avicenna pretended to obey ; but instead of repair¬
ing to Gazna, he took the route of Giorgian. Mah¬
mud, who had gloried in the thoughts of keeping him
at his palace, was greatly irritated at his flight. Pie
despatched portraits done in crayons of this philoso¬
pher to all the princes of Asia, with orders to have him
conducted to Gazna, if he appeared in their courts.
But Avicenna had fortunately escaped the most dili¬
gent rearch after him. Pie arrived in the capital of
Giorgian, where under a disguised name he performed
many admirable cures.
Cabous then reigned in that country. A nephewr,
whom he wras extremely fond of, being fallen sick, the
most able physicians were called in, and none of them
were able to know his ailment, or give him any ease.
Avicenna was at last consulted. So soon as he had felt
the young prince’s pulse, he was confident with him¬
self, that his illness proceeded from a violent love,
which he dared not to declare. Avicenna commanded
the person who had the care of the different apart¬
ments in the palace, to name them all in their respective
order. A more lively motion in the prince’s pulse,
at hearing mentioned one of these apartments, betray¬
ed a part of his secret. P'he keeper then had orders
to name all the slaves that inhabited that apartment.
At the name of one of those beauties, the young Ca¬
bous could not contain himself 5 an extraordinary beat¬
ing of his pulse completed the discovery of what he
in vain desired to keep concealed. Avicenna, now
fully assured that this slave was the cause of the prince’s
illness, declared, that she alone had the power to cure
him.
The sultan’s consent was necessary, and he of course
was curious to see his nephew’s physician. He had
scarce looked at him, when he knew in his features
those of the crayoned portrait sent him by Mahmud ;
hut Cabous, far from forcing Avicenna to repair to
Gazna, retained him for some time with him, and
heaped honours and presents on him.
ibis philosopher passed afterwards into the court of
Nedjmeddevle, sultan of the race of the Bouides.
Being appointed first physician to that prince, he found
means to gain his confidence to so great a degree, that
he raised him to the post of grand visir. But he did
not long enjoy that illustrious dignity. Too great an
Vol. III. Part I. " f
attachment to pleasures, especially those of love ; nd Avicenna,
the table, made him lose at the same time his post tin 1 ——y——<
his master’s favour. From that time Avicenna felt all
the rigours of adversity, which he had brought upon
himself by his ill conduct. He wandered about as a
fugitive, and was often obliged to shift the place of his
habitation to secure his life from danger. He died at
Hamadan, aged 58 years, in the 428th year of the
Hegira, and of Christ 1036.
The perfect knowledge he had of physic did not se¬
cure him from the ailments that afflict human nature.
He was attacked by several maladies in the course of
his life, and particularly was very subject to the co¬
lic. His excesses in pleasures, and his infirmities,
made a poet say who wrote his epitaph, that the pro¬
found study of philosophy had not taught him good
morals, nor that of medicine the art of preserving his
own health.
No one composed with greater facility than Avicen¬
na, wmiting, when he sat down to it, 50 pages gene¬
rally in a day, without fatiguing himself. The doc¬
tors of Schiras, having made a collection of objections
against one of his metaphysical works, sent it to him
at Ispahan by Casern. This learned man, not arriving
till towards evening, came to Avicenna’s house, with
whom he sat discoursing till midnight. When Casern
had retired, he wrote an answer to the objections of the
Schirazians, and finished it before sunrist. He imme¬
diately delivered it to Casern, telling him, that he had
made all possible despatch in order not to detain him
any longer at Ispahan.
Avicenna, after his death, enjoyed so great a repu¬
tation, that till the 12th century he was preferred for
the study of philosophy and medicine to all his prede- n
cessors. His works were the only writings in vogue in
schools, even in Europe. The following are the titles.
I. Of the Utility and Advantage of Science, twenty
books. 2. Of Innocence and Criminality, two books.
3. Of Health and Bemedies, eighteen books. 4. Ca¬
nons of Physic, fourteen books. 5. On Astronomical
Observations, one book. 6. On Mathematical Sciences,
7. Of Theorems, or Mathematical and Theological
Demonstrations, one book. 8. On the Arabic Lan¬
guage, and its Properties, ten books. 9. On the
Last Judgment. 10. On the Origin of the Soul, and
the Resurrection of Bodies. II. Of the end we
should propose to ourselves in Harangues and Philo¬
sophical Argumentations. 12. Demonstration of the
collateral Lines in the Sphere. 13. Abridgement of
Euclid. 14. On Finity and Infinity. 15. On Phy¬
sics and Metaphysics. 16. On Animals and Vegeta¬
bles, &c. 17. Encyclopedic, 20 volumes.—Some,
however, charge him with having stolen what he pu¬
blished from a celebrated physician who had been his
master. This man had acquired so much honour and
wealth, that he was solicited by many to take their
sons to be his scholars, or even his servants ; but be¬
ing resolved not to discover the secrets of his art, he
would receive none of them. Avicenna’s mother form¬
ed the following stratagem : she offered him her son as
a servant, pretending he was naturally deaf and dumb :
and the youth, .by his mother’s instructions, counter¬
feited those defects so well, that the physician, after
making several trials to discover the reality of them,
took the boy into his service, and by degrees trusted
M m him
AVI [ 274 ] AVI
Avicenna lum so far as to leave Ills writings open in his room
U when he went abroad : Avicenna took that opportu-
Avignon. n;ty (0 transcribe them, and carried the copies to
v his mother j and after the death of his master he pub¬
lished them under his own name. Indeed, if we re¬
ject that he lived but 58 years, that he was a wan¬
derer and a fugitive, and that he was much addict¬
ed to his pleasures, we shall have some difficulty to
conceive how he could find time to compose so many
works. Physic, however, is indebted to him for the
discovery of cassia, rhubarb, mirabolans, tamarinds :
and from him also, it is said, came to us the art of
making sugar.
AVICENIA, Eastern Anacardium. See Bo¬
tany Index.
AVIGATO pear. See Laurus, Botany In¬
dex.
AVIGLIANO, a small town of Piedmont in Italy.
E. Long. 7. 5. N. Lat. 44. 40.
AVIGNON, a city of France, in the department
of Vaucluse, the capital of the county of Venaissin, and
seated on the banks of the Rhone. It was formerly an
archbishop’s see j and the residence of several popes at
this place for 70 years has rendered it considerable.
Near the Rhone there is a large rock, within the cir¬
cumference of the walls, upon which is a platform,
from whence may be had a prospect of the whole city
and the places about it. This city is about three miles
and two furlongs in circumference, and is in general
ill built, irregular, and devoid of beauty. But it is
surrounded by handsome battlemented walls and tur¬
rets, not unlike those of Rome ; and its public edifices
are large, solid, and grand as the taste of the four¬
teenth century could make them. Several popes and
anti-popes, who, during their lives, shook the Romish
church with violence and mutual altercation, repose
quietly near each other in the various monasteries of
the place. The church of the Cordeliers contains, in
an obscure corner, the almost defaced tomb of Pe¬
trarch’s Laura and her husband Hugh de Sade ; and
nearly opposite is the tomb of the brave Gullon, so
well known for his invincible courage as well as for
his inviolable attachment to his sovereign Henry IV.
Many productions of Rene of Anjou are to be seen
in the city. It contained 23,211 inhabitants in 1815,
but the number was greater before the revolution.
Avignon was at first included in the department of the
Mouths of the Rhone, but is now the capital of the de¬
partment of Vaucluse. It was annexed to France by
a decree of the national assembly in 1791, but w?as not
formally ceded by the pope till 1797.
The church of Notre Dame is ancient, but not large,
and is one of the best adorned in the city. After ha¬
ving ascended about 50 steps, you come to a very an¬
cient portico, which sustains a great tower j as you en¬
ter the church on the left hand, you see paintings
which equal the finest in Italy. The great altar is very
magnificent, and is adorned with a slmne that contains
the relicks of we know not how many saints. The trea¬
sure of the sacristy is worthy of the curiosity of the
traveller. The little palace where the archbishop re¬
sided is formed of three bodies of lodgings, accompa¬
nied with courts and small pavilions. It overlooks the
Rhone, the city, and the fields. These buildings and
3
the mint adorn a large square, which is the common AtigHMi,
\valk of the inhabitants. —y-WB,
In Avignon they reckon seven gates, seven palaces,
seven colleges, seven hospitals, seven monasteries,
seven nunneries, and seven popes who have lived there
in 70 years. The steeples are numerous, and the bells
are never at rest ; one of silver is rung only on the
death of a pope. The church of the Celestines is
very magnificent, and full of fine monuments; and the
rest are not without their curiosities. The university
has four colleges ; and the place where the Jews live
is a distinct quarter, from whence the Jews, who pay
tribute, dare not stir out without yellow hats, and the
women must have something yellow about their heads,
to distinguish them from the Christians. Their num¬
ber is very considerable in a very confined place, where
the only way of enlarging their abodes is by building
their houses higher. Their synagogue is so dark, that
they are obliged to light lamps. However, they are
forced to hear a monk preach a sermon every week.
Across the Rhone, here, extend the ruinous and de¬
cayed arches of that bridge against which Madame de
Grignan was so near being lost, and of which Madame
de Sevignt: makes terrified mention. It was demolish¬
ed in 1699 by one of the inundations common to the
Rhone. When entire, it was not less than a quarter
of a mile in length ; but being so narrow, as not to
permit two carriages to pass in any part, it had pre¬
viously become almost useless ; and motives of policy
prevent the construction of a new bridge, w'hile Avig¬
non belongs to the papal see. The curious that travel
this way go to see the fountain of Vaucluse, where
the river Sorgues, which passes through this city, has
its source ; and whither Petrarch so often retired to
indulge his grief and hopeless love. It is situated in
a valley five miles distant from the city. The sides of
the river are skirted by meadows of the most lively
green ; above which nse abrupt and lofty rocks, that
seem designed to seclude it from human view. The
valley becomes gradually narrower towards the extre¬
mity, and winding continually describes the figure of a
horse-shoe. The view is at length terminated by an
enormous mass of rock, forming a barrier across it, of
a prodigious height, and absolutely perpendicular.
Through its vast recesses run the streams which supply
the fountain of Vaucluse, and at itsToot appears a ba¬
son ot water, several hundred feet in circumference,
stretched like an expanse, silent and quiet. The sides
are very steep, and it is said that in the middle no bot¬
tom can be discovered, though attempts have been often
made for that purpose ; a circumstance probably re¬
sulting from the violence with which the springs bubble
up, which prevents any weight from descending be¬
yond a certain depth. Though the fountain is clearer
in itself than crystal, yet the incumbent rock casts a
continual shade, approaching to black, over its surface.
1 he water escaping from this state of inaction by a
narrow passage, is immediately precipitated in a cas¬
cade down a rocky channel, where it foams over a
number of vast detached stones, which intercept and
impede its progress. They are covered with a deep
green moss of many ages, and have probably tumbled
from the mountain that overhangs the torrent. The
rocks themselves, which surround and invest this ro¬
mantic
AVI t 275 ] A tr L
wantlc spot, are worn by time and the inclemency of
y the weather into a thousand extraordinary and fantastic
Aviso, forms, to which imagination gives shape and figure.
—*—'On one of the pointed extremities, and in a situation
which appears almost inaccessible, are seen the remains
of an ancient castle, projecting over the water. The
peasants call it II Gastello di Petrarca ; and add, with
great simplicity, that Laura lived upon the opposite
side of the river, under the bed of which was a subter¬
ranean passage by which the two lovers visited each
other. Nothing is, however, more certain, than that
these are the ruins of the chateau belonging to the
lords or seigneurs of Avignon ; and the bishop of
Cavaillon resided in it during the frequent visits which
he used to make to Petrarch.—>The poet’s dwelling
was much lower down, and nearer to the bank of the
Sorgues, as evidently appears from his minute description
of it, and the relation he gives of his quarrel with the
Naiads of the stream, who encroached during the win¬
ter on his little adjoining territory. No remains of it
are now to be discerned. Below the bridge there is
an island where the Sorgues joins the Rhone, in which
are several pleasure-houses. E. Long. 4. 59. N. Lat.
43- 57- . ....
AriGNOX Berry, the fruit of a species of lycium ;
growing plentifully near Avignon and in other parts
of France. The berry is somewhat less than a pea;
its colour is green, approaching towards a yellow ;
and it is of an astringent and hitter taste.—It is much
used by the dyers, who stain a yellow colour with it:
and by the painters, who also make a fine golden yel¬
low of it.
AVILAj a city of Old Castile, in Spain, seated
on an eminence on the banks of the river Adaja, and
in sight of the mountains of Pico. It is fortified both
by nature and art, having a wall 9075 feet in circum¬
ference, adorned with 26 lofty towers, and 10 hand-
fiome gates. There are 17 principal streets, containing
many good houses, hut the town is now in a state of de¬
cay. It hath nine squares, aooo houses, nine parishes,
as many monasteries, seven nunneries, two colleges,
nine hospitals, 18 chapels, and an allowance of ic,ooo
ducats yearly for the maintenance of orphans and ether
poor people. It has an university, and a considerable
bishopric; besides a noble cathedral, which has eight
dignitaries, 20 canons, and the same number of rninot
canons. It stands in the middle of a fine large plain
surrounded with mountains, and covered with fruit-
trees and vineyards. Its woollen manufactures have
sunk. W. Long. 4. 13. N. Lat. 40. 35.
AVIS, a small town of Alentejo in Portugal, seated
on an eminence, with a castle near the river Avis.
Hence the military order of the knights of Avis have
their name. W. Long. 7. o. N. Lat. 38. 40.
Avis (Knights d^Avis), an order of knighthood in
Portugal established about the year 1162. When the
city of Evora was taken from the Moors, in the reign
of the first king of Portugal, it was garrisoned by se¬
veral persons who assumed the title of knights of St
Mary of Evora, which was soon after changed for
that of knights d’Avis, which the king gave them,
and whither they removed from Evora. The badge
ot the order is a green cross fiory, and they observe
the rule of St Benedict.
AVISO, a term chiefty used in matters of commerce
to denote an advertisement, an advice, or piece of in- Aviso
telligence. ||
AVISON, Charles, organist of Newcastle, and a Aulic‘
disciple of Geminiani, was the author of an essay on ^
musical expression, published in the year 1752, in which
are some judicious reflections on music in general, but
his division of the modern authors into classes is rather
fanciful than just. Throughout his book he celebrates
Marcello and Geminiani $ the latter frequently in pre¬
judice to Mr Handel. In the year 1753 came out re¬
marks on Mr Avison’s essay on musical expression, thtf
author whereof first points out sundry errors against the
rules of composition in the works of Avison. In the
same year Avison republished his essay, with a reply to
the author of the remarks ; and a letter, containing p,
number of loose particulars relating to music, collected
in a course of various reading, unquestionably written
by Dr Jortin. Avison promoted and assisted in the
publication of Marcello’s music to the psalms adapted
to English words. Of his own composition there are
extant five collections of concertos for violins, 44 in
number j and two sets of sonatas for the harpsichord and
two violins, a species of composition little known in
England till his time. The music of Avison is light
and elegant, but it wants originality ; a necessary con¬
sequence of his too close attachment to the style of
Geminiani, which in a few particulars only he was
able to imitate.
AUK, in Ornithology. See Alca, Ornithology
IndeXi
AUKLAND, Bishop’s, a town in the bishopric of
Durham in England, situated on the river Were. It
is a sanctuary for debtors; and here the bishop has a
princely palace and a noble park. W. Long. 0. 75.
N. Lat. 54. 44.
AULA, is used for a court baron by Spelman ; by
some old ecclesiastical writers, for the nave of a churchy
and sometimes for a court-yard.
Aula Regia or Regis, a court established by W il¬
liam the Conqueror in his own hall, composed of the
king’s great officers of state, who resided in his palace,
and were usually attendant on his person. This court
was regulated by the article which forms the eleventh
chapter of Magna Charta, and established in Westmin-
ter-hall, where it hath ever since continued. See
King's Bench.
AULCESTER, a town of Warwickshire in Eng¬
land. W. Long. 1. 47. N. Lat. 52. 15.
AULETES, in antiquity, denotes a flute-player.
One of the Ptolemies, kings of Egypt, father of Cleo¬
patra, bore the surname or denomination of Auletes.
AULIC, an epithet given to certain officers of the
empire, who compose a court which decides, without
appeal, in all processes entered in it. Thus we say,
aulic council, aulic chamber, aiilic counsellor.
The aulic council is composed of a president, who
is a catholic j of a vice chancellor, presented by the
archbishop of Mentzj and of 18 counsellors, nine of
whom are Protestants and nine Catholics. They are
divided into a bench of lawyers, and always follow the
emperor’s court; for which reason they are called ju-
stitium imperatoris, the emperor’s justice, and aulic
council. The aulic court ceases at the death of the
emperor ; whereas the imperial chamber of Spire is
perpetual, representing not only the deceased emperor,
M $n 2 but
A U N [ 276 ] , A V O
Aulic
but the whole Germanic hotly, which is reputed never
to die. '
Aulic, in the Sorbonne and foreign universities, is
an act which a young divine maintains upon being ad¬
mitted a doctor of divinity. It begins by a harangue
of the chancellor, addressed to the young doctor, alter
which he receives the cap, and presides at the aulic or
disputation.
AULIS, in Ancient Geography, a town of Boeotia,
over against Chalcis of Euboea, on the Euripus, where
that strait is narrowest \ and which was sometimes join¬
ed with Cbalcis together by a mole or causeway, (Dio¬
dorus Siculus) : a craggy situation, (Homer, Non-
nius) ; and a village of the Tanagraei, (Strabo), di¬
stant from Chalcis three miles : A harbour famous for
the rendezvous of the Grecian fleet under Agamemnon,
previous to the Trojan expedition, (Livy, Virgil, Pli¬
ny). Now entirely destroyed.
AULNEGEP. See Alnager.
AULON, anciently a town and dock or station for
ships in Illyricum, on the Adriatic •, now Valona, or
Volana, a port town in the duchy of Ferrara, on one of
the mouths of the Po, on the gulf of Venice. E. Long.
13. N. Lat. 44. 50. _
Aulon, or Aulona, anciently a town of Elis, in Pe¬
loponnesus, on the confines of Messenia. Here .stood
a temple of -ZEsculapius 5 hence the epithet Aulonius
given that divinity, (Pausanias).
AULOS, a Grecian long measure, the same with
stadium.
AULPS, a town of Provence in France, in the dio¬
cese of Frejus, with the title of a vigurie. E. Long.
6. 25. N. Lat. 43. 40.
AULUS Gellius. See Gellius.
AUMBRY, a country word denoting a cupboard.
AUME, a Dutch measure for Rhenish wine, con¬
taining 40 English gallons.
AUNCEL-WEIGHT, an ancient kind of balance,
now out of use, being prohibited by several statutes, on
account of the many deceits practised by it. It con¬
sisted of scales hanging on hooks, fastened at each end
of a beam, which a man lifted up on his hand. In
many parts of England, auncel-weight signifies meat
sold by the hand, without scales.
AUNE, a long measure used in France to measure
cloths, stuff’s, ribbons, &c. At Rouen, it is equal to
one English ell 5 at Calais, to 1.52J at Lyons, to 1.061 j
and at Paris, to 0.93.
AUNGERVYLE, Richard, commonly known by
the name of Richard de Bury, was born in 1281 at
St Edmund’s Bury in Suffolk, and educated at the
university of Oxford : After which he entered into the
order of Benedictine monks, and became tutor to Ed¬
ward prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward III.
Upon the accession of his royal pupil to the throne, he
was first appointed cofferer, then treasurer of the ward¬
robe, archdeacon of Northampton, prebendary of Lin¬
coln, Sarum, and Litchfield, keeper of the privy seal,
dean of Wells, and last of all was promoted to the bi¬
shopric of Durham. He likewise enjoyed the offices
of lord high chancellor and treasurer of England ; and
discharged two important embassies at the court of
France. Learned himself, and a patron of the learn¬
ed, he maintained a correspondence with some of the
greatest geniuses of the age, particularly with the ce¬
2
lebrated Italian poet Petrarch. He was also of a most
humane and benevolent temper, and performed many
signal acts of charity. Every week he made eight
quarters of wheat into bread, and gave it to the poor.
Whenever he travelled between Durham and Newcastle,
he distributed eight pounds sterling in alms : between
Durham and Stockton five pounds, between Durham
and Aukland five marks, and between Durham and
Middleham five pounds. He founded a public library
at Oxford for the use of the students, which he fur¬
nished with the best collection of books then in Eng¬
land 5 and appointed five keepers, to whom he granted
yearly salaries. At the dissolution of religious houses
in the reign of Henry VIII. Durham college, where
he fixed the library, being dissolved among the rest,
some of the books were removed to the public library,
some to Baliol college, and some came into the hands
of Dr George Owen, a physician of Godstow, who
bought that college of King Edward VI. Bishop
Aungervyle died at his manor of Aukland, April 24.
1345, and w^as buried in the south part of the cross aisle
of the cathedral church of Durham, to which he had
been a benefactor. He wrote, 1. Philobihlos, contain¬
ing directions for the management of his library at Ox¬
ford, and a great deal in praise of learning, in bad La¬
tin. 2. Epistolce familiarium ; some of which are writ¬
ten to the famous Petrarch. 3. Orationes adprincipes ;
mentioned by Bale and Pitts.
AUNIS, formerly a small province in France, but
now included in the department of the Lower Charente,
and belonging to the arrondisements of Rochefort, La
Rochelle, and Varennes. It is watered by the rivers
Seure and Sarente, the former of which has its source
at Seure in Poictou. The coast of this small district
has the advantage of several ports, the most remarkable
of which are Rochefort, Rochelle, Brouge, St Martin
de Re, Tremblade, Tonnai, and Charente. The soil of
this country is dry, yet produces good corn and plenty
of wdne. The marshes feed a great number of cattle,
and the salt marshes yield the best salt in Europe.
AVOCADO, or Avigato, Pear. See Laurus,
Botany Index.
AVOCATORIA, a mandate of the emperor of Ger¬
many, addressed to some prince, in order to stop his
unlawful proceedings in any cause appealed to him.
AVOIDANCE, in the canon law, is when a bene¬
fice becomes void of an incumbent; which happens ei¬
ther in fact, as by the death of the person •, or in law,
as by cession, deprivation, resignation, &c. In the
first of these cases, the patron must take notice of the
avoidance at his peril; but in avoidance by law, the
ordinary is obliged to give notice to the patron, in or¬
der to prevent a lapse.
AVOIRDUPOIS. This is the weight for the
larger and coarser commodities, such as groceries,
cheese, wool, lead, &c. Bakers, who live not in cor¬
poration towns, are to make their bread by avoirdupois
weight, those in corporations by troy weight. Apothe¬
caries buy by avoirdupois weight, but sell by troy.
The proportion of a pound avoirdupois to a pound troy
is as 17 to 14.
AVOSETTA. See Recurvirostra, Ornitho¬
logy Index.
AVOWEE, one who has a right to present to a
benefice. He is thus called in contradistinction to
those
Atuiger.
vyle
Avowe
A U R [ 277 ] , A U R
Avowee those 'who only have the lands to which the advowson
II belongs for a term of years, or by virtue of intrusion
jirelianus- ^ ^JsspJgin.
AVOWRY, in Law, is where a person distrained
sues out a replevin ; for then the distrainer must vow,
and justify his plea, which is called his avowry.
AURA, among Physiologists, an airy exhalation or
vapour. The word is Latin, derived from the Greek,
ecu?*, gentle wind.
AURACH, a town of Germany with a good castle,
in the kingdom of Wrirtemberg. It is the usual resi¬
dence of the youngest sons of the house of Wirtemberg,
and is seated at the foot of a mountain on the rivulet
Ermst, nine miles east of Warzach. E. Long. 9. 20.
N. Lat. 48. 25.
AURiE, in Mythology, a name given by the Ro¬
mans to the nymphs of the air. They are mostly to
be found in the ancient paintings of ceilings $ where
they are represented as light and airy, generally with
long robes and flying veils of some lively colour or
other, and fluttering about in the rare and pleasing
element assigned to them. They are characterized as
sportive and happy in themselves, and wellwishers to
mankind.
AURANCHES, the capital of a territory called
Auranchin, about 30 miles in length, in Lower Nor¬
mandy in France, now the department of the Channel.
The city is mean ; but its situation very fine, being on
an eminence near which the river See runs, about a
mile and a half from the ocean. The cathedral stands
on a hill, which terminates abruptly 5 the front of the
church extending to the extreme verge of it, and over¬
hanging the precipice. It bears the marks of high
antiquity j but the towers are decayed in many places.
The population of the town in 1815 was 6000. Here,
you are told, the English Henry II. received absolu¬
tion from the Papal nuncio for the murder of St Tho-
mas-a-Becket in 1172, and the stone on which he
knelt during the performance of that ceremony is shewn
to strangers. Its length is about 30 inches, and the
breadth 12. It stands before the north portal, and on
it is engraved a chalice in commemoration of the event.
The ruins of the castle of Auranches are very extensive ;
and beneath lies a rich extent of country, abounding in
grain, and covered with orchards, from the fruit of
which is made the best cyder in Normandy. W. Long.
I. 20. N. Lat. 48. 51.
AURANTIUM, in Botany. See Citrus, Botany
Index.
AURAY, a small seaport town of Lower BUtanny
in France, situated on the gulf called Morbihan, and in
the department of the same name. It consists of only
one handsome street, and is chiefly known for its trade.
W. Long. 2. 25. N. Lat. 47. 48.
AURELIA, in Natural History, the same with what
is more usually called chrysalis, and sometimes nymph.
See Chrysalis, Entomology Index.
AURELIANUS, Lucius Domitius, emperor of
Rome, was one of the greatest generals of antiquity,
and commanded the armies of the emperor Claudius
with such glory, that after the death of that emperor
all the legions agreed to place him on the throne : this
happened in the year 270. He carried the war from
the east to the west, with as much facility, says a mo¬
dern writer, as a body of troops marches from Alsace Aurelianus
into Flanders. He defeated the Goths, Sarmatians, j)
Marcomanni, the Persians, Egyptians and Vandals *, Auriflara-
conquered Zenobia queen of the Palmyrenians, and Te- nia‘
tricus general of the Gauls j both of whom were made
to grace his triumph, in the year 2741. He was killed
by one of his generals in Thrace in the year 275, when
he was preparing to enter Persia with a great army.
See Rome.
AURELIUS Victor. See Victor.
AURENGABAD, a city in the East Indies, ca¬
pital of a province of the same name, on the western
side of the peninsula. It is furnished with handsome
mosques and caravanseras. The buildings are chiefly
of freestone, and pretty high, and the streets planted
on each side with trees. They have large gardens well
stocked with fruit trees and vines. The soil about it is
also very fertile, and thg sheep fed in its neighbourhood
are remarkably large and strong. E. Long. 75-, 30.
N. Lat. 19. 10.
AURENG-ZEBE, a celebrated Mogul emperoiv
See Hindostan.
AUREOLA, in its original signification, signifies
a jewel, which is proposed as a reward of victory in
some public dispute. Hence the Roman schoolmen
applied it to denote the reward bestowed on martyrs,
virgins, and doctors, on account of their works of su¬
pererogation ; and painters use it to signify the crown
of glory with which they adorn the heads of saints, con¬
fessors, &c.
AUREUS, a Roman gold coin, equal in value to 25
denarii. According to Ainsworth, the aureas of the
higher empire weighed near five pennyweights j and in
the lower empire, little more than half that weight.
We learn from Suetonius, that it was customary to give
aurei to the victors in the chariot races.
AUREUS MONS, in Ancient Geography, a mountain
in the north-west of Corsica, whose ridge runs out to the
north-east and south-east, forming an elbow.—Another
mountain of Moesia Superior, or Servia (Peutinger), to
the south of the Danube, with a cognominal town at its
foot on the same river. The emperor Probus planted
this mountain with vines (Eutropius).
AURICK, a city of Germany, in East Friesland,
in the kingdom of Hanover, containing 2200 inhabi¬
tants. - It is situated in a plain surrounded with forests
full of game. E. Long. 6. 50. N. Lat. 53. 28.
AURICLE, in Anatomy, that part of the ear which
is prominent from the head, called by many authors
auris externa.
Auricles are likewLse two muscular bags situated
at the basis of the heart, and intended as diverticula for
the blood during the diastole.
AURICULA, in Botany. See Primula, Botany
Index.
AURIFLAMMA, in the French history, properly
denotes a flag or standard belonging to the abbey of St
Dennis, suspended over the tomb of that saint, which
the religious on occasion of any war in defence of their
lands or rights, took down with great ceremony, and
gave it to their protector or advocate, to be borne at
the head of their forces.
Auriflamma is also sometimes used to denote the
chief flag or standard in any army.
AURIGA,
A U H [ 278 ] A U B
AuHjja AURIGxi, the Waggoner, in Astronomy, a con-
|| stellation of the northern hemisphere, consisting of 23
Aurora stars, according to Tycho j 40, according to Hevelius ;
°r^a '**. and 68, in the Britannic catalogue*
AURILLAC, a town in France, in Lower Au¬
vergne, now the department of Cantal, seated on a small
river called Jourdanei It is one of the most consider¬
able towns of the province, and contained 10,332 in¬
habitants in 1815. The castle is very high, and com¬
mands the town. The abbot was lord of Aurillac, and
had episcopal jurisdiction j and was also chief justice of
the town. This place is remarkable for having produ¬
ced several great men. E. Long. 2. 33. N. Lat. 44. 55.
AURIPIGMENTUM, Orpiment, in Natural Hi¬
story. See Orpiment.
AURISGALPIUM, an instrument to clean the ears*
and serving also for other operations in disorders of that
part.
AURORA, the morning twilight, or that faint
light which appears in the morning when the sun is
within 18 degrees of the horizon.
Aurora, the goddess of the morning, according to
the Pagan mythology. She was the daughter of Hy¬
perion and Theia, according to Hesiod j but of Titan
and Terra, according to others. It was under this name
that the ancients deified the light which foreruns the
rising of the sun above our hemisphere. The poets
represent her as rising out of the ocean, in a chariot,
with rosy fingers dropping gentle dew. Virgil describes
her ascending in a flame-coloured chariot with four
horses.
Aurora, one of the New Hebrides islands in the
South sea, in which Mr Forster supposes the Peak
d'Etoile mentioned by Mr Bougainville to be situated.
The island is inhabited ; but none of its inhabitants
came off to visit Captain Cook. The country is woody,
and the vegetation seemed to be excessively luxuriant.
It is about 12 leagues long, but not above five miles
broad in any part; lying nearly north and south. The
middle lies in S. Lat. 15. 6. E. Long. 168. 24.
Aurora Borealis, Northern Twilight, or Stream¬
ers ; a kind of meteor appearing in the northern part
of the heavens, mostly in the winter time, and in
frosty weather. It is now so generally known, that
no description is requisite of the appearance which it
usually makes in this country. But it is in the arc¬
tic regions that it appears in perfection, particularly
during the solstice. In the Shetland islands, the
merry dancers, as they are there called, are the con¬
stant attendants of clear evenings, and prove great re¬
liefs amidst the gloom of the long winter nights. They
commonly appear at twilight near the horizon, of a
dun colour, approaching to yellow j sometimes conti¬
nuing in that state for several hours without any sen¬
sible motion ; after which they break out into streams
of stronger light, spreading into columns, and altering
slowly into ten thousand different shapes, varying their
Colours from all the tints ot yellow to the obscurest
russet. They often cover the whole hemisphere, and
then make the most brilliant appearance. Their mo¬
tions at these times are most amazingly quick ; and
they astonish the spectator with the rapid change of
their form. They break out in places where none
were seen before, skimming briskly along the heavens j
are suddenly extinguished, and leave behind an uniform
dusky track. This again is brilliantly illuminated in Aurors
the same manner, and as suddenly left a dull blank. Borealig,
In certain nights they assume the appearance of vast
columns, on one side of the deepest yellow, on the
other declining away till it becomes undistinguished
from the sky. They have generally a strong tremulous
motion from end to end, which continues till the whole
vanishes. In a word, we, who only see the extremities
of these northern phenomena, have but a faint idea of
their splendour and their motions. According to the
state of the atmosphere, they differ in colour. They
often put on the colour of blood, and make a most
dreadful appearance. The rustic sages become prophe¬
tic, and terrify the gazing spectators with the dread
of war, pestilence, and famine. This superstition was
not peculiar to the northern islands ; nor are these ap¬
pearances of recent date. The ancients called them
Chasmata, and Trabes, and Bolides, according to their
forms or colours. r
In old times they Were extremely rare, and on thatThu met*,
account were the more taken notice of. From the daysor formerl7
of Plutarch to those of our sage historian Sir RichardTer^ ^
Baker, they were supposed to have been portentous of
great events, and timid imagination shaped them into
aerial conflicts :
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds
In ranks and squadrons and right form of war.
Dr Halley tells us, that when he saw a great aurora
borealis in 1716, he had begun to despair of ever see¬
ing one at all : none having appeared, at least in any
considerable degree, from the time he was born till
then. Notwithstanding this long interval, however, it
seems that in some periods the aurora borealis had been
seen much more frequently ; and perhaps this, as well
as other natural phenomena, may have some stated times
of returning. ,
The only thing that resembles a distinct history ofHhtorybj
this phenomenon, is what we have from the learned
Dr Halley, Phil. Trans. N° 347* The first account
he gives, is of the appearance of what is called by the
author burning spears, and was seen at London on Ja¬
nuary 30th 1560. This account is taken from a book
entitled, A Description of Meteors, by IF. F. D. D. and
reprinted at London in 1654. The next appearance,
on the testimony of Stow, was on October 7th, 1564.
In 1574 also, according to Camden, and Stow above-
mentioned, an aurora borealis was observed two nights
successively, viz. on the 14th and 15th of November,
with much the same appearances as described by Dr
Halley in 1716, and which we now so frequently ob¬
serve. Again, the same was twice seen in Brabant, in
the year 1575 5 v*z* on of February and 28th
of September. Its appearances at both these times
Ivere described by Cornelius Gemm, professor of medi¬
cine in the university of Louvain, who compares them
to spears, iortified cities, and armies fighting in the air.
After this, Michael Maestlin, tutor to the great Kepler,
assures us, that at Baknang in the county of Wurtem-
berg in Germany, these phenomena, which he styles
chasmata, were seen by himself no less than seven times
in 1580. In 1581, they again appeared in an extra¬
ordinary manner in April and September, and in a less
degree at some other times of the same year. In 1621,
September 2d, this phenomenon was observed all over
France,
A U R
Aurora
lorealis,
For-
«r’s ac-
iimt of
ti ilar ap
| ranees
i ;he
them
\M.
nere.
til.
?s very
*l:e At-
sphere.
France, and described by Gassendus, who gave it the
name of aurora borealis: yet neither this, nor any si-
J milar appearances posterior to 1574, are described by
English writers till the year 1707 ; which, as Dr Hal¬
ley observes, shows the prodigious neglect of curious
matters which at that time prevailed. From 1621 to
1707* indeed, there is no mention made of an aurora
borealis being seen by any body ; and considering the
number of astronomers who during that period were in
a manner continually poring on the heavens, we may
very reasonably conclude that no such thing did make
its appearance till after an interval of 86 years. In
1707, a small one was seen in November; and during
that year and the next, the same appearances were re¬
peated live times. The next on record is that men¬
tioned by Dr Halley in March 1715—16, the brilli¬
ancy of which attracted universal attention, and by the
vulgar was considered as marking the introduction of a
foreign race of princes. Since that time those meteors
have been so common, that no accounts have been kept
of them.
It was for a long time a matter of doubt whether
this meteor made its appearance only in the northern
hemisphere, or whether it was also to be observed near
the south pole. 1 his is now ascertained by Mr For¬
ster ; who in his late voyage round the world along
with Captain Cook, assures us, that he observed them
in the high southern latitudes, though with phenome¬
na somewhat different from those which are seen here.
On Feb. 17. 1773, as they were in Lat. 58° south,
“ A beautiful phenomenon (says he) was observed du¬
ring the preceding night, which appeared again this
and several following nights. It consisted of long co¬
lumns of a clear white light, shooting up from the ho¬
rizon to the eastward, almost to the zenith, and gra¬
dually spreading on the whole southern part of the
sky. These columns were sometimes bent sidewise at
their upper extremities ; and though in most respects
similar to the northern lights {aurora borealis) of our
hemisphere, yet differed from them in being always
of a whitish colour, whereas ours assume various tints,
especially those of a fiery and purple hue. The sky was
generally clear when they appeared, and the air sharp
and cold, the thermometer standing at the freezing-
point.”
Dr Halley observed that the aurora borealis describ¬
ed by him arose to a prodigious height, it being seen
from the west of Ireland to the confines of Russia and
Poland on the east; nor did he know how much farther
it might have been visible; so that it extended at least
30 degrees in longitude, and from Lat. 50° north it was
seen over all the northern part of Europe ; and what
was very surprising, in all those places where it was vi¬
sible, the same appearances were exhibited which Dr
Halley observed at London. He observes, with seem-
ing regret, that he could by no means determine its
height, for want of observations made at different pla¬
ces ; otherwise he might as easily have calculated the
height of this aurora borealis, as he did of the fiery
globe in 1719*. To other philosophers, however, he
gives the following exhortation. “ When therefore
for the future any such thing shall happen, all those
that are curious in astronomical matters are hereby
admonished and entreated to set their clocks to the ap¬
parent time at London, for example, by allowing so
[ 279 ]
A U R
many minutes as is the difference of meridians ; and Aurora
then to note, at the end of every half hour precisely, the Borealis,
exact situation of what at that time appears remarkable 1' v~*~"
in the sky ; and particularly the azimuths of those very
tall pyramids so eminent above the rest, and there¬
fore likely to be seen furthest : to the intent that, by
comparing these observations taken at the same mo¬
ment in distant places, the difference of their azimuths
may serve to determine how far these pyramids are di¬
stant from us.” This advice of Dr Halley seems to
have been totally neglected by all the philosophical peo¬
ple in this country. In other countries, however, they
have been more industrious. Father Boscovich has
determined the height of an aurora borealis, observed
on the 16th of December 1737 marquis of Po-
leni, to have been 825 miles high ; the celebrated Mr
Bergman, from a mean of 30 computations, makes the
average height of the aurora borealis to be 70 Swe¬
dish, or upyvards of 460 English miles. Euler supposes
it to be several thousands of miles high ; and Mai-
ran also assigns them a very elevated region. In the
74th volume of the Philosophical Transactions, Dr
Blagden, when speaking of the height of some fiery
meteors, tells us, that the “ aurora borealis appears to
occupy as high, if not a higher region above the sur¬
face of the earth, as may be judged from the very
distant countries to which it has been visible at the
same time.” The height of these meteors, however,
none of which appear to have exceeded or even ar¬
rived at the height of a hundred miles, must appear
trifling in comparison of the vast elevations above
mentioned. But these enormous heights, varying so
exceedingly, show that the calculators have not .had
proper data to proceed upon ; and indeed the immense
extent of space occupied by the aurora borealis itself,
with its constant motion, must make it infinitely more
difficult to determine the height of it than of a fiery
globe, which occupies but a small portion of the visi¬
ble heavens. The most certain method of making a
comparison betwixt the aurora borealis and the meteors
already mentioned, would be, if a ball of fire should
happen to pass through the same part of the heavens
where an aurora borealis was ; when the comparative
height of both could easily be ascertained. One in¬
stance of this only has come under our observation,
where one of the small meteors, called falling stars,
was evidently obscured by an aurora borealis; and there¬
fore must have been higher than the lower part of the
latter at least. A singularity in this meteor was, that
it did not proceed in a straight line through the hea¬
vens, as is usual with falling stars, but described a very
considerable arch of a circle, rising in the north-west,
and proceeding southward a considerable way in the arch
of a circle, and disappearing in the north. Its edges
were ill defined, and five or six coruscations seemed to
issue from it like the rays painted as issuing from stars.
The aurora borealis was not in motion, but had dege¬
nerated into a crepusculum in the northern part of the
hemisphere. Indeed, in some cases, this kind of crepus¬
culum appears so plainly to be connected with the
clouds, that we can scarcely avoid supposing it to pro¬
ceed from them. We cannot, however, argue from
this to the height of the aurora borealis when it moves
with great velocity, because it then may, and very
probably does, ascend much higher. Dr Blagden, in-
deed^
A U R [ 280 ] A U R
Aaiai-a deed, jnforms us, that instances are recorded, where the
Borealis, northern lights have been seen to join, and form lu-
'■'""'V—' niinous balls, darting about with great velocity, and
even leaving a train like the common fire-balls. It
would seem, therefore, that the highest regions of the
aurora borealis are the same with those in which fire¬
balls move.
Conjectures With regard to the cause of the aurora borealis
concerning many conjectures have been formed. The first which
the cause o£natura]]y occurred was, that it was occasioned by the
this meteor.ascent 0f inflammable sulphureous vapours from the
earth. To this supposition Dr Halley objects the im¬
mense extent of such phenomena, and that they are
constantly observed to proceed from north to south,
but never from south to north. This made him very
reasonably conclude, that there was some connexion
between the poles of the earth and the aurora borealis ;
but being unacquainted with the electric power, he
supposed, that'this earth was hollow, having within it a
magnetical sphere, which corresponded in virtue with
all the natural and artificial magnets on the surface ;
and the magnetic effluvia passing through the earth,
from one pole of the central magnet to another, might
sometimes become visible in their course, which he
* thought was from north to south, and thus exhibit the
beautiful coruscations of the aurora borealis. Had
Dr Halley, however, known that a stroke of electricity
would give polarity to a needle that had it not, or
reverse the poles of one that had it before, he would
undoubtedly have concluded the electric and magnetic
effluvia to be the same, and that the aurora borealis
was this fluid performing its circulation from one pole
of the earth to the other. In fact, this very hypothe¬
sis is adopted by S. Beccaria : and by the supposed cir¬
culation of the electric fluid he accounts for the pheno¬
mena of magrietism and the aurora borealis in a manner
perfectly similar to that of Dr Halley, only changing
the phrase magnetic effluvia for electric fluid. The fol¬
lowing is the account given us by Dr Priestley of Bec-
caria’s sentiments on this matter.
“ Since a sudden stroke of lightning gives polarity
to magnets, he conjectures, that a regular and constant
circulation of the whole mass of the fluid from north to
south may be the original cause of magnetism in gene¬
ral.
“ That this ethereal current is insensible to us, is no
proof of its non-existence, since we ourselves are invol¬
ved in it. He had seen birds fly so near a thunder¬
cloud, as he was sure they would not have done had
they been affected by its atmosphere.
“ This current he would nof suppose to arise from
one source, but from several, in the northern hemi¬
sphere of the earth ; and he thinks that the aurora
borealis may be this electric matter performing its
circulation in such a state of the atmosphere as renders
it visible, or approaching the earth nearer than usual.
Accordingly, very vivid appearances of this kind have
been observed to occasion a fluctuation in the magnetic
needle.”
A direct disproof of this circulation, however, is fur¬
nished by the observation of Mr Forster already men¬
tioned : with which, though neither Dr Halley nor S.
Beccaria could be acquainted, they might have thought
of it as a final proof either of the truth or falsehood of
their hypothesis.—If the aurora borealis is no other
than the electric fluid performing the above-mentioned Aurora
circulation, it ought to dart from the horizon towards Borealis,
the zenith in the northern hemisphere, and from the ze- < ~
nith to the horizon in the southern one : but Mr Forster
plainly tells up, that the columns shot up from the hori¬
zon towards the zenith as well in the southern hemi¬
sphere as in the northern 5 so that if the aurora borealis
is to be reckoned the flashings of electric matter, its
course is plainly directed from both poles toward the
equator, and not from one pole to the other.
Concerning the cause of this phenomenon, Mr Can¬
ton has the following query : “ Is not the aurora bo¬
realis the flashing of electrical fire from positive towards
negative clouds at a great distance, through the upper
part of the atmosphere where the resistance is least ?”
But to this we must reply in the negative 5 for in this
case it would flash in every direction according to the
position of the clouds, as well as from north to south.
Besides this query, he conjectures, that when the
needle is disturbed by the aurora borealis, that pheno¬
menon proceeds from the electricity of the heated air j
and supposes the air to have the property of becoming
electric by heat, like the tourmalin. But neither does
this hypothesis appear at all probable ; because, in such
a case, the aurora borealis ought to be most frequent
in summer when the air is most heated, whereas it is
found to be the reverse. Lastly, with these electri¬
cal hypotheses we shall contrast that of Mr Mairan,
who imagined this phenomenon to proceed from the
atmosphere of the sun, particles of which were thrown
off by its centrifugal force acquired by his rotation on
his axis j and that these particles falling upon the at¬
mosphere of the earth near its equatorial parts, were
from thence propelled by the diurnal motion of the
earth tow’ards the polar regions, where they formed
the aurora borealis. This hypothesis, besides its being
a mere supposition unsupported by one single appear¬
ance in nature, is liable to the objection already men¬
tioned ; for in this case the light should dart from the
equator to the poles, and not from the poles to the
equator : or if we should suppose this matter to be gra¬
dually accumulated at each of the poles, we must then
make other suppositions equally vague and ill founded,
concerning its getting back with such surprising rapi¬
dity in direct opposition to the power which once
brought it thither.
The first person who seems to have endeavoured to
find any positive proof of the electrical quality of the
aurora borealis, was Dr Hamilton of Dublin. He ob¬
serves, that though this phenomenon is commonly sup¬
posed to be electrical, yet he had not seen any attempt
to prove that it is so j but the only proof he himself
brings is an experiment of Mr Hawksbee, by which
the electric fluid is shown to put on appearances some¬
what like the aurora borealis, when it passes through a
vacuum. He observed, that when the air was most
perfectly exhausted, the streams of electric matter were
then quite white *, but when a small quantity of air
was let in, the light assumed more of a purple colour.
The flashing of this light therefore from the dense re¬
gions of the atmosphere into such as are more rare, and
the transitions through mediums of different density,
he reckons the cause of the aurora borealis, and of the
different colours it assumes.
Dr Hamilton’s proof, then, of the electricity ol
the
o Elec-
A U R [2
the aurora borealis, consists entirely in the resemblance
the two lights bear to one another ; and if to this we
add, that during the time of an aurora borealis, the
magnetic needle hath been disturbed, electric fire ob¬
tained from the atmosphere in plenty, and at some
times different kinds of rumbling and hissing sounds
heard, we have the sum of all the positive evidence in
favour of the electric hypothesis.
Was the aurora borealis the first natural phenome¬
non the solution of which had been attempted by elec¬
tricity, no doubt the proofs just now adduced would
be very insufficient: but when it is considered, that we
have indisputable evidence of the identity of the phe¬
nomena of thunder and of electricity } when we also
consider that the higher parts of our atmosphere are
continually in a strongly electrified state j the analogy
becomes so strong that we can scarce doubt of the au¬
rora borealis arising from the same cause. The only-
difficulty is, to give a good reason why the electricity
of the atmosphere should be constantly found to direct
its course from the poles towards the equator, and not
from the equator to the poles $ and this we think may
be done in the following manner.
1. It is found that all electric bodies, when consi¬
derably beated, become conductors of electricity j thus
hot air, hot glass, melted rosin, sealing-wax, &c. are
all conductors, till their heat is dissipated, and then
they again become electrics.
2. As the converse of every true proposition ought
also to he true, it follows from the above one, that if
electrics when heated become conductors, then non¬
electrics when subjected to violent degrees of cold
ought to become electric. In one instance this has
been verified by experience ; water, which is a conduc¬
tor when warm or not violently cooled, is found to be¬
come electric when cooled to 20° below o of Fahren¬
heit’s thermometer. With regard to metallic substan¬
ces, indeed, no experiments have as yet been made to
determine whether their conducting power is affected
by cold or not. Very probably we might not be able
to produce such a degree of cold as sensibly to lessen
their conducting power ; but still the analogy will hold;
and, as we are by no means able to produce the greatest
degree of cold possible, reason will always suggest to us,
that if a certain degree of cold changes one conductor
into an electric, a sufficient degree of it will also change
all others into electrics.
3. If cold is sufficient to change conducting sub¬
stances into electrics, it must also increase the electric
power of such substances as are already electric ; that
is to say, very cold air, glass, rosin, &c. provided they
are dry, will be more electric than when they are
warmer. With regard to air, which is most to our
present purpose, this is rendered extremely probable,
by considering that clear frosty weather is of all others
the most favourable for electric experiments. They
may be made indeed to equal advantage almost in any
state of the atmosphere, provided sufficient pains are
used, but in dry hard frosts they will succeed much
more easily than at any other time.
Ihese three axioms being allowed, the cause of the
aurora borealis is easily deduced from them. The air,
all round the globe, at a certain height above its sur¬
face, is found to be exceedingly cold, and, as far as
experiments have yet determined, exceedingly electri-
yoL. III. Part I. +
81 ] AUK
cal also. The inferior parts of the atmosphere between Aurora
the tropics, are violently heated during the day-time Borealis.
by the reflection of the sun’s rays from the earth. ^ v 
Such air will therefore be a kind of conductor, and
much more readily part with its electricity to the
clouds and vapours floating in it, than the colder air
towards the north and south poles. Hence the prodi¬
gious appearances of electricity in these regions, show¬
ing itself in thunder and other tempests of the most
terrible kind. Immense quantities of the electric fluid
are thus communicated to the earth ; and the inferior
warm atmosphere having once exhausted itself, must
necessarily be recruited from the upper and colder re¬
gion. This becomes very probable from what the
French mathematicians observed when on the top of
one of the Andes. They were often involved in
clouds, which, sinking down into the warmer air, ap¬
peared there to be highly electrified, and discharged
themselves in violent tempests of thunder and light¬
ning : while in the mean time, on the top of the
mountain, they enjoyed a calm and serene sky. In the
temperate and frigid zones, the inferior parts of the
atmosphere never being so strongly heated, do not part
with their electricity so easily as in the torrid zone,
and consequently do not require such recruits from the
upper regions : but notwithstanding the difference of
heat observed in different parts of the earth near the
surface, it is very probable that at considerable heights
the degrees of cold are nearly equal all round it. Were
there a like equality in the heat of the under part,
there could never be any considerable loss of equili¬
brium in the electricity of the atmosphere : but as the
hot air of the torrid zone is perpetually bringing down
vast quantities of electric matter from the cold air that
lies directly above it ; and as the inferior parts of the
atmosphere lying towards the north and south poles do
not conduct in any great degree ; it thence follows,
that the upper parts of the atmosphere lying over the
torrid zone will continually require a supply from the
northern and southern regions. This easily shows the
necessity of an electric current in the upper parts of the
atmosphere from each pole towards the equator : and
thus we are also furnished with a reason why the au¬
rora borealis appears more frequently in winter than
in summer ; namely, because at that time the electric
power of the inferior atmosphere is greater on account
of the cold than in summer; and consequently the
abundant electricity of the upper regions must go al¬
most wholly off to the equatorial parts, it being impos¬
sible for it to get down to the earth : hence also the
aurora borealis appears very frequent and bright in the
frigid zone, the degree of cold in the upper and un¬
der regions of the atmosphere being much more nearly
equal in these parts than in any other. In some parts
of Siberia particularly, this meteor appears constantly
from October to Christmas, and its coruscations are
said to be very terrifying. Travellers agree, that here
the aurora borealis appears in greatest perfection ; and
it is to be remarked that Siberia is the coldest coun¬
try on earth. In confirmation of this, it may also be
observed, that from the experiments hitherto made
with the electrical kite, the air appears considerably
more electrical in winter than in summer, though the
clouds are known to be often most violently electrified
in the summer time ; a proof, that the electricity na-
N u turaliy
A U R
[ 28
Atm(ra turallv belonging to the air is in summer much more
Borealis, powerfully drawn off by the clouds than in the winter,
—■—v  owing to the excess of heat in summer, as already ob¬
served.
A considerable difficulty, however, still remains from
the upright position which the streams of the aurora
borealis are generally supposed to have; whereas, ac¬
cording to the hypothesis above mentioned, they ought
rather to run directly from north to south. This dif¬
ficulty occurred to Dr Halley; but he answers it by
supposing his magnetic effluvia to pass from one pole
to another in arches of great circles, arising to a vast
height above the earth, and consequently darting from
the places whence they arose almost like the radii of a
circle ; in which case, being sent off in a direction near¬
ly perpendicular to the surface of the earth, they must
necessarily appear erect to those who see them from any
part of the surface, as is demonstrated by mathemati¬
cians. It is also reasonable to think that they will take
this direction rather than any other, on account of their
meeting with less resistance in the very high regions of
the air than in such as are lower.
But the greatest difficulty still remains : for we have
supposed the equilibrium of the atmosphere to be bro¬
ken in the daytime, and restored only in the night;
whereas, considering the immense velocity with which
the electric fluid moves, the equilibrium ought to be
restored in all parts almost instantaneously; yet the au¬
rora borealis never appears except in the night, al¬
though its brightness is such as must sometimes make it
visible to us did it really exist in the daytime.
In answer to this it must be observed, that though
the passage of electricity through a good conductor is
instantaneous, yet through a bad conductor it is ob¬
served to take some time in passing. As our atmo¬
sphere therefore, unless very violently heated, is but a
bad conductor of electricity ; though the equilibrium
in it is broken, it can by no means he instantaneously
restored. Add to this, that as it is the action of the
sun which breaks the equilibrium, so the same action,
extending over half the globe, prevents almost any at¬
tempt to restore it till night, when flashes arise from
various parts of the atmosphere, gradually extending
themselves with a variety of undulations towards the
equator.
It now remains to explain only one particularity of
the aurora borealis, namely, that its streams do not al¬
ways move with rapidity ; sometimes appearing quite
stationary for a considerable time, and sometimes being
carried in different directions with a slow motion. To
this indeed we can give no other reply, than that weak
electric lights have been sometimes observed to put on
the same appearance at the surface of the earth : and
much more may we suppose them capable of doing so
at great heights above it, where the conductors are
both fewer in number and much more imperfect.
When M. de Romas was making experiments with an
electric kite in Italy, a cylinder of blue light about
four or five inches diameter was observed surrounding
the string. This was in the day time; but had it been
night, he imagined it must have been four or five feet
in diameter ; and as the string was 780 feet long, it
would probably have seemed pyramidal, pointing up¬
wards like one of the streams of the aurora borealis.
A still more remarkable appearance, Dr Priestley tells
2 ] A U R
us, was observed by Mr Hartman. He had been ma¬
king electrical experiments for four or five hours toge¬
ther in a very small room ; and upon going out of it,
and returning with a light in his hand, walking pret¬
ty quick, he perceived a small flame following him at
about three feet distance. Being alarmed at this ap¬
pearance, he stopped to examine it, upon which it va-
nished. This last instance is very remarkable, and sin¬
gular in its kind ; from both, however, we are suffici¬
ently warranted to conclude, that small portions of our
atmosphere may by various causes be so much electri¬
fied as to shine, and likewise be moved from one place
to another without parting with the electricity they
have received, for a considerable time.
The corona, or circle, which is often formed near the
zenith by the aurora borealis, is easily accounted for
in the same manner. As this corona is commonly sta¬
tionary for some time, we imagine it would be a very
proper mark whereby to determine the distance of the
meteor itself. If an aurora borealis, for instance, was
observed by two persons, one at London, and the other
at Edinburgh ; by noting the stars among which the
corona was observed at each place, its true altitude
from the surface of the earth could easily be determined
by trigonometry.
Under the article Atmosphere it was suggested,
that no good proof had been as yet brought for the
extreme rarity of the air usually supposed to take place
at no very great heights above the earth. The bright¬
ness of the meteor there mentioned at 70 miles perpen¬
dicular from the surface, as also its figure, seemed to
prove the air considerably dense at that distance from
the earth. Though the height of the aurora borealis
has never been determined, we can scarce imagine it to
be greater than that of this meteor, or indeed so great:
but although its streams resemble the passage of elec¬
tric light through a vacuum, it cannot be from thence
inferred, that the air is at all in a state similar to the
vacuum of an air pump in those places where the auro¬
ra borealis is produced ; seeing we have instances of si¬
milar appearances being produced in very dense air.
The plate of an electrophorus is often so highly electri¬
fied, as to throw out flashes from different parts as soon
as it is lifted up, and by proper management it may
be always m*de to emit long and broad flashes which
shall scarcely be felt by the finger, instead of small,
dense, and pungent sparks ; so that, though long flashes
may be produced in rarefied air, it by no means fol¬
lows, that the same may not also be produced in denser
air. As little can we infer any thing from the co¬
lour ; for we observe the electric spark sometimes
white, sometimes blue, and sometimes purple, in the
very same state of the atmosphere, and from the same
substance.
The aurora borealis is said to be attended with a pe¬
culiar hissing noise in some very cold climates; Gme-
lin speaks of it in the most pointed terms, as frequent
and very loud in the north-eastern parts of Siberia; and
other travellers have related similar facts. Gmelin’s
account is very remarkable. “ These northern lights
(says he) begin with single bright pillar’s, rising in the
north, and almost at the same time in the north-east,
which gradually increasing, comprehend a large space
of the heavens, rush about from place to place with in¬
credible velocity, and finally almost cover the whole
•ky
Aurora
Borealis.
A U E [
Aurora *^7 UP The streams are then seen meet-
jorealis. ing together in the zenith, and produce an appearance
—"V—^as if avast tent was expanded in the heavens, glit¬
tering with gold, rubies, and sapphire. A more beau¬
tiful spectacle cannot be painted 5 but whoever should
see such a northern light for the first time, could not be¬
hold it without terror. For however fine the illumina¬
tion may be, it is attended, as I have learned from
the relation of many persons, with such a hissing,
cracking, and rushing noise throughout the air, as if
the largest fire-works were playing off. To describe
what they then hear, they make use of the expression*
Spolochi c/wdjat, that is ‘ the raging host is passing.*
The hunters who pursue the white and blue foxes on
the confines of the Icy sea, are often overtaken in their
course by these northern lights. The dogs are then
so much frightened, that they will not move, but lie
obstinately on the ground till the noise has passed.
Commonly clear and calm weather follows this kind
of northern lights. I have heard this account, not
from one person only, but confirmed by the uniform
testimony of many, who have spent part of several
years in these very northern regions, and inhabited dif¬
ferent countries from the Yenesei to the Lena $ so that
no doubt of its truth can remain. This seems indeed to
be the real birthplace of the aurora borealis?'
The hissing or rushing noise above described, Dr
Blagden is inclined to attribute to small streams of elec¬
tric matter running off to the earth from the masses or
accumulations of electricity by which the northern lights
^ are supposed to be produced.
! iron bo- conclude this article with an account of a
ilis sue- PaPer presented to the Royal Society by Mr Winn, in
ided by I772* wherein he says that the appearance of an au-
jth-west rora borealis is a certain sign of a hard gale of wind
from the south or south-west. This he never found to
fail in 23 instances ; and even thinks, that from the
splendour of the meteor, some judgment may be form¬
ed concerning the ensuing tempest. If the aurora is
very bright, the gale will come on within twenty-four
hours, but will be of no long duration j if the light is
faint and dull, the gale will be less violent and long¬
er in coming on, but it will also last longer. His ob¬
servations were made in the English channel, where such
winds are very dangerous j and by attending to the au¬
rorae, he says he often got easily out of it, when others
narrowly escaped being wrecked. This is an exceeding
useful observation for sailors : but it cannot be^expected
that the winds succeeding these meteors should in all
places blow from the south-west ; though no doubt a
careful observation of what winds succeed the aurora bo¬
realis, and other meteors, in different parts of the world,
might contribute in some measure to lessen the dangers
of navigation.
I ^ 7 That the aurora borealis ought to be succeeded by
' iceriling ma7 *)e eas*-y deduced from the hypothesis last
1 fesuon. mentior>ed. If this phenomenon is occasioned by the
vast quantity of electric matter conveyed to the equa¬
torial parts ot the earth, it is certain that the earth
cannot receive any great quantity of this matter at one
place without emitting it at another. The electricity,
therefore, which is constantly received at the equator,
must be emitted near the poles, in order to perform its
course, otherwise there could not be a constant sup¬
ply of it for the common operations of nature. It is
283 ] A tr s
observed, that electrified bodies are always surrounded
by a blast of air, which is sent forth from them in all
directions ; hence if the electric matter find a more
ready passage through one part of the earth than ano¬
ther, a wind will be found to blow from that quarter.
If therefore one of these places happen to be in the
Atlantic ocean near the coast of France, or in the bav
of Biscay, the electric matter which has been received
at the equator during an aurora borealis will be dis¬
charged there for some time after, and consequently a
wind will blow from that quarter, which will be from
the south-west to those ships which are in the English
channel. It cannot be imagined, however, that all
the matter can be discharged from one place ■ and
therefore, according to the different situations of those
electrical vents, winds may blow in different directions ;
and thus the same aurora borealis may produce a south¬
west wind in the English channel, and a north west one
in Scotland.
AURUM. See Gold, Chemistry, and Minera¬
logy Index.
This metal was introduced into medicine by the A-
rabians, who esteemed it one of the greatest cordials
and comforters of the nerves. From them Europe re¬
ceived it without any diminution of its character; in
foreign pharmacopoeias it is still retained, and even
mixed with the ingredients from which simple waters
are to be distilled. But no one, it is presumed, at this
time, expects any singular virtues from it, since it cer¬
tainly is not alterable in the human body. Mr Geof-
froy, though unwilling to reject it from the cordial
preparations, honestly acknowledges that he has no
other reason for retaining it than complaisance to the
Arabian schools. The chemists have endeavoured, by
many elaborate processes, to extract what they call a
sulphur or anima of gold j but no method is as yet
known of separating the component parts of this me¬
tal ; all the tinctures of it, and aurum potabile, which
have hitherto appeared, are real solutions of it in aqua
regia, diluted with spirit of wine or other liquors, and
prove injurious to the body rather than beneficial. A
place, however, is now given in some of the foreign
pharmacopoeias to the aurum fulminansj and it has of
late been recommended as a remedy in some convulsive
diseases, particularly in the chorea sancti viti.
Aurum Fulminans. See Chemistry Index.
Aurum Mosaicum. See Chemistry Index.
AURUNCI, in Ancient Geography, a people of La-
tium, towards Campania j the same with the Ausones,
at least so intermixed as not to be easily distinguish¬
able, though Pliny separates them.
AUSA, a town of Tarraconensis, in the middle age
caMcd. Ausona ; now Vich de Qsuna, a town of Catalonia
in Spain. E. Long. 2. o. N. Lat. 41. 50.
AUSCH. See Auch.
AUSf, an ancient and very savage people of Li¬
bya. Herodotus tells us that they were unacquainted
with marriage, and had all their women in common.
The children were brought up by their mothers till
they were able to walk : after which they were intro¬
duced to an assembly of the men, who met every three
months *, and the man to whom any child first spoke,
acknowledged himself its father. They celebrated
annually a feast in honour of Minerva, in which the
girls divided into two companies, fought with sticks
N n 2 and
Aurora
BorcalL
I!
Ausi.
A U S [ ,284 ] A U S
Ansi and stones, and those who died of their wounds were
li concluded not to have been virgins.
.Au onius,^ AUSIMUM, or Auximum, an ancient Roman colo¬
ny in tbePicenum; now Osimo or Os?no, in the marqui-
sate of Ancona in Italy. E. Long. 15. N. Lat. 43. 20.
AUSITiE, or tEsiTvE, a tribe of ancient Arabs,
supposed by Bochart to have inhabited the land of Uz,
mentioned in Scripture.
AUSONA, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
Ausonf s, a people who anciently occupied ail the Low¬
er Italy, from the Promontorium Circeeum down to the
straits of Sicily (Livy), but were afterwards reduced to
a much narrow'er compass ; namely, between the Mon¬
tes Circoei and Massici: nor did they occupy the whole
of this, hut other people were intermixed. Concerning
Ausona or its remains there is nothing particular re¬
corded.
AUSONIA, the ancient name of Italy, from its
most ancient inhabitants the Ausones, (Virgil, Ser-
vius).
AUSONEUM MARE, in Ancient Geography, a part
of the Ionian sea, extending southward from the pro¬
montory Japygium to Sicily, which it washes on the
east, as it does the Bruttii and Magna Grsecia on the
south and east. It is separated from the Tuscan sea by
the strait of Messina.
AUSONIUS (in Latin, jDccA/.?, or rather jOer/wm,?,
Magnus Ausonius), one of the best poets of the fourth
century, was the son of an eminent physician, and born
at Bourdeaux. Great care was taken of his education,
the whole family interesting themselves in it, either be¬
cause his genius was very promising, or that the scheme
of his nativity, which had been cast by his grandfather
on the mother’s side, made them imagine that he would
rise to great honour. He made an uncommon pro¬
gress in classical learning, and at the age of 30 was
chosen to teach grammar at Bourdeaux. He was
promoted some time after to be professor of rhetoric $
in which office he acquired so great a reputation, that
he was sent for to court to be preceptor to Gratian the
emperor Valentxnian’s son. The rewards and honours
conferred on him for the faithful discharge of his of¬
fice prove the truth of Juvenal’s maxim, that when For¬
tune pleases, she can raise a man from a rhetorician to
the dignity of a consul. He was actually appointed
consul by the emperor Gratian, in the year 379, after
having filled other considerable posts \ for besides the
dignity of quaestor, to which he had been nominated by
Valentinian, he was made prefect of the praetorium
in Italy and Gaul after that prince’s death. His
speech returning thanks to Gratian on his promotion
to the consulship is highly commended. The time of
his death is uncertain ; he was still living in 392, ami
lived to a great age. The emperor Theodosius had a
great esteem for Ausonius, and pressed him to publish
his poem. There is a great inequality in his works *,
and in his manner and his style there is a harshness
which was perhaps rather the defect of the times he
lived in than of his genius. Had he lived in Au¬
gustus’s reign, his verses, according to good judges,
would have equalled the most finished of that age.
He is generally supposed to have been a Christian :
some ingenious authors indeed think otherwise, but,
according to Mr Bayle, without just reason.. The
best edition of his poems is that of Amsterdam in 4r?on;
, If"88
AUSPEX, a name originally given those who Anuria,
were afterwards denominated augurs. In which sense l~T--
the word is supposed to be formed from avis, “ bird,”
and inspicere. “ to inspect j” auspices, q. d. avispices.
AUSPICIUM, Auspicy, the same with augury.
AUSTER, one of the four cardinal winds, as Ser-
vius calls them, blowing from the south, (Pliny, Ovid,
Manilius).
AUSTERE, rough, astringent. Thus an austere
taste is such a one as constringes the mouth and
tongue ; as that of unripe fruit, harsh wines, &c.
AUSTERITY, among moral writers, implies se¬
verity and rigour. Thus we say, austerity of manners,
austerities of the monastic life, &c.
AUSTIN, St. See St Augustin.
AUSTRAL, Australis, the same with southern.
The word is derived from auster, “ south wind.” Thus
the six austral signs of the zodiac, are those on the
south side of the equinoctial,
AUSTRALASIA, a new division, lately introduced
by geographers, forming the fifth great division of the
globe. It comprehends New Holland, New Guinea,
and a vast multitude of other islands scattered over the
Pacific ocean. See Supplement.
AUSTRALIS Piscis, the Southern Fish, is a
constellation of the southern hemisphere, not visible in
our latitude; whose stars in Ptolemy’s catalogue are 18,
and in the Britannic catalogue 24.
AUSTRIA, one of the principal provinces of the
empire of Germany towards the east; from which si¬
tuation it takes its name, Oost-rych in the German lan¬
guage signifying the East Country. It is bounded on
the north by Moravia; on the east by Hungary ; on
the south by Stiria; and on the west by Bavaria. It
is divided into Upper and Lower, which are separated
by the river Ens. Vienna the capital is in Lower
Austria, which contains several other very considerable
towns. The country is fertile, but rather mountain¬
ous ; it has a great many mines, and produces vast
quantities of salt and sulphur.
In the ninth and tenth centuries, Austria was the
frontier of the empire against the barbarians. In 928,
the emperor Henry the Fowler, perceiving that it was
of great importance to settle some person in Austria
who might oppose these incursions, invested Leopold,
surnamed the Illustrious, with that country. Otho I.
erected Austria into a marquisate in favour of his bro¬
ther-in-law Leopold, whose descendant Henry II. was
created duke of Austria by the emperor Frederic Bar-
barossa. His posterity becoming extinct in 1240, the
states of the country, in order to defend themselves from
the incursions of the Bavarians and Hungarians, resolved
to put themselves under the protection of Henry marquis
of Misnia; but Othogar II. king of Bohemia, being
likewise invited by a party in the duchy, took posses¬
sion of it, alleging not only the invitation of the states,
but also the right of his wife, heiress of Frederic the
last duke. The emperor Rodolphus I. pretending a
right to this duchy, refused to give Othogar the in¬
vestiture of it; and afterwards killing him in a battle,
procured the right of it to his own family. From this
Rodolphus the present house of Austna is descended,
which
2
A U S [ 285 ] A U S
which for several centuries past has rendered itself so
famous and so powerful, having given 14 emperors to
Germany, and six kings to Spain.
In 1477, Austria was erected into an archduchy by
the emperor Frederic the Pacific for his son Maximi¬
lian, with these privileges : That these shall be judged
to have obtained the investiture of the states, if they
do not receive it after having demanded it three times ;
that if they receive it from the emperor, or the impe¬
rial ambassadors, they are to be on horseback, clad in
a royal mantle, having in their hand a stall"of command,
and upon their head a ducal crown of two points, and
surrounded with a cross like that of the imperial crown.
The archduke is born privy-counsellor to the emperor,
and his states cannot be put to the ban of the empire.
AH attempts against his person are punished as crimes
of lese-majesty, in the same manner as those against the
king of the Romans, or electors. No one cWed to
challenge him to single combat. It is in his choice to
assist at the assemblies, or to be absent; and he has the
privilege of being exempt from contributions and pub¬
lic taxes, excepting 12 soldiers which he is obliged
to maintain against the Turks for one month. He has
rank immediately after the electors j and exercises ju¬
stice in his states without appeal, by virtue ol a privi¬
lege granted by Charles V. His subjects cannot even
be summoned out of his province upon account of law¬
suits, to give witness, or to receive the investiture of
fiefs. Any of the lands of the empire may be alie¬
nated in his favour, even those that are feudal ; and he
has a right to create counts, barons, gentlemen, poets,
and notaries. In the succession to his states, the
right of birth takes place-, and, failing males, the fe¬
males succeed according to the lineal right, and, it no
heir be found, they may dispose of their lands as they
please.
Upper Austria, properly so called, has throughout the
appearance of a happy country. Here are no signs of
the striking contrast betwixt poverty and riches which
offends so much in Hungary. All the inhabitants,
those of the capital only excepted, enjoy that happy
mediocrity which is the consequence of a gentle and
wise administration. The farmer has property ; and the
rights of the nobility, who enjoy a kind of lower judi¬
cial power, are well defined. The south and south-west
parts of the country are bounded by a ridge of hills, the
inhabitants of which enjoy a share of prosperity un¬
known to those of the interior parts of France. There
are many villages and market towns, the inhabitants of
which have bought themselves off from vassalage, are
now their own governors, and belong some or them to
the estates of the country. The cloisters, the prelates
of which belong to the estates of the country, are the
richest in Germany, after the immediate prelacies and
abbacies of the empire. One of the greatest convents
of Benedictines is worth upwards of four millions of
French livres, half of which goes to the exchequer of
the country.
Lower Austria exports great quantities of wine to
Moravia, Bohemia, Upper Austria, Bavaria, Saltzburg,
and part of Stiria and Carinthia. This wine is sour,
but has a great deal of strength, and may be carried
all over the world without danger ; when it is ten or
twenty years old it is very good. The valleys near the
Danube are fertile, but agriculture is generally in a-
rude state. The southern parts of Austria are cover¬
ed with hills, which rise gradually from the banks of
the Danube to the borders of Stiria, and are covered
with woods. They lose themselves in the mass of moun¬
tains which run to the south of Germany, and stretch
through all Stiria, Carniola, Carinthia, and Tyrol, to
the Swiss Alps and are probably, after Savoy and
Switzerland, the highest part of the earth. The in¬
habitants of this extensive ridge of mountains ai'e alt
very much alike j they are a strong, large, and, the
Goitres excepted, a very handsome people. Upper
and Lower Austria together contain 45,760 square
miles, and their population in 1818 amounted to
4,457,692. The revenue which, these provinces yield
is estimated at nearly four millions sterling.
The characteristic of the inhabitants of all this,
country is striking bigotry, united with striking sen¬
suality. You need only see what is going forwards,
here to be convinced that the religion taught by the
monks is as ruinous to the morals as it is repugnant
to Christianity. The Cicisbeos accompany the mar¬
ried women from their bed to church, and lead them
to the very confessional. The bigotry of the public:
in the interior parts of Austria, which, from the mix¬
ture of gallantry with it, is still to be found even
amongst people of rank, degenerates amongst the com¬
mon people into the grossest and most abominable buf¬
foonery. The Windes, who are mixed with the Ger¬
mans in these countries, distinguish themselves by a
superstitious custom that does little honour to the hu¬
man understanding, and would be incredible if we had
not the most unequivocal proofs of the fact before our.
eyes. Many years ago, they set out in company with
some Hungarian enthusiasts to Cologne on the Rhine,,
which is about 120 German miles distant, to cut oft
the heard of a crucifix there. Every seven years this
operation is repeated, as in this space of time the,,
beard grows again to its former length. The rich
persons of the association send the poorer ones as their-
deputies, and the magistrates of Cologne receive them
as ambassadors from a foreign prince. They are en¬
tertained at the expence of the state, and a counsel¬
lor shows them the most remarkable things in the
town. This farce brings in large sums of money at
stated times, and may therefore deserve political en¬
couragement ; but still, however, it is the most miser¬
able and meanest way of gain that can be imagined.
These Windes have alone the right to shave our Sa¬
viour, and the beard grows only for them. They firm¬
ly believe, that if they did not do this service to the-
crucifix, the earth would be shut to them for the next
seven years, and there would he no harvests. For
this reason they are obliged to carry the hair home:
with them, as the proof of having fulfilled their com¬
mission, the returns of which are distributed among,
the different communities, and preserved as holy re¬
lics. The imperial court has for a long time endea¬
voured in vain to prevent this emigration, which de¬
prives agriculture of so many useful hands. When the
Windes could not go openly they would go clandestine¬
ly. At length the court thought of the expedient of
forbidding the regency of Cologne to let them enter the
town. When this happened, the numerous embassy
was
Austria
II
Autocta-
tor.
A U T r 286 ] A U T
was obliged to beg its way back again without the won¬
derful beard ; which without doubt the Capuchins, to
whom the crucifix belonged, used to put together from
their own. The trade which the monks carry on with
holy salves, oils, &c. is still very considerable; a pro¬
hibition which the court published, rather lessened it,
but did not entirely suppress it.
For an account of the whole Austrian monarchy, see
Austria, Supplement.
AUSTROMANCY, Austromantia, properly de¬
notes soothsaying, or a vain method of predicting futu¬
rity, from observations of the winds.
AUTERFOITS Acquit.") c \
AuTEnFO,TS Attaint. L See tl1' “r le P,'“
AvrzXFOirs Acquit. ) t0
AUTHENTIC, something of acknowledged and re¬
ceived authority. In law, it signifies something clothed
in all its formalities, and attested by persons
credit has been regularly given. Thus we sa1
tic papers, authentic instruments.
AUTHOR, properly signifies one who created or
produced any thing. Thus God, by way of emi¬
nence is called the Author of nature, the Author of the
universe.
to whom
say, authen-
Author, in matters of literature, a person who has
composed some book ot writing.
AUTHORITY, in a general sense, signifies a right
to command, and make one’s self obeyed. In which
sense we say, the royal authority, the episcopal autho¬
rity, the authority of a father, &c. It denotes also
the testimony ot an author, some apophthegm or sen¬
tence of an eminent person quoted in a discourse by
way of proof.
Authority is represented, in painting, like a grave
matron sitting in a chair of state, richly clothed in a
garment embroidered with gold, holding in her right
hand a sword, and in her left a sceptre. By her side is
a double trophy of books and arms.
AUrOCH PHONES, an appellation assumed by
some nations, importing that they sprung, or were pro¬
duced, from the same soil which they still inhabited.
In this sense, Autochthones amounts to the same with
Aborigines. The Athenians valued themselves on their
being Autochthones, self-born, or yyyints, earth-born ;
it being the prevailing opinion among the ancients, that,
in the beginning, the earth, by some prolific power,
produced men, as it still does plants. The proper Au¬
tochthones were those primitive men who had no other
parent beside the earth. But the name was also assu¬
med by the descendants of these men, provided they
never changed their ancient state, nor suffered other
nations to mix with them. In this sense it was that
the Greeks, and especially the Athenians, pretended to
be Autochthones ; and as a badge thereof, wore a gol¬
den grasshopper woven in their hair, an insect suppo¬
sed to have the same origin.
AUTOCRATOR, a person vested with an absolute
independent power, by which he is rendered unaccount¬
able to any other for his actions. The power of the A-
thenian generals, or commanders, was usually limited ;
so that, at the expiration of their office, they were lia¬
ble to render an account of their administration. But,
on some extraordinary occasions, they were exempted
from this restraint, and sent with a full and uncontroul-
ahb authority: in which sense they were styled Avlex^a-
'lefif. The same people also applied the name to some Aatocra
of their ambassadors, who were vested with a full power tor
of determining matters according to their own discre- 0
tion. These were denominated Yltfr/iut AvIoKgxIogtf, Automa-
and resembled our plenipotentiaries. , t011,
AUTO da fe, act of faith. See Act of Faith.
AUTODIDACTUS, a person self-taught, or who
has had no master or assistant of his studies besides
himself.
AUTOGRAPH, denotes a person’s hand-writing,
or the original manuscript of any book, &c.
AUTOLITHOTOMUS, he who cuts himself for
the stone. Of this we have a very extraordinary in¬
stance given by Reiselius, in the Ephemerides of the
Academy Natures Curiosorum, dec. I. an. 3. obs. 102.
AUTOMATE, called also Hiera, one of the Cy¬
clades, an island to the north of Crete (Pliny), said to
have emerged out of the sea, between the islands Thera
and 1 herasia, in the fifth year of the emperor Clau¬
dius ; in extent 30 stadia, (Orosius).
AUIOMAION, (from eevlof, ipse, and pxtfixi, e.v-
citor), a self-moving machine, or one so constructed, by
means of weights, levers, pulleys, &c. as to move for a
considerable time, as though endowed with animal life.
According to this description, docks, watches, and all
machines of that kind, are automata.
Under the article Androides we observed that the
highest perfection to which automata could be carried
was to imitate exactly the motions and actions of living
creatures, especially of mankind, which are more dif¬
ficultly imitated than those of other animals. Very
surprising imitations, however, have been made of other
creatures. So long ago as 400 years before Christ,
Archytas of Tarentum is said to have made a wooden
pigeon that could fly ; nor will this appear at all incre¬
dible, when we consider the flute-player made by M.
Vaucanson, and the chess-player by M. Kempel. Dr
Hook is also said to have made the model of a flying
chariot, capable of supporting itself in the air. But
M. Vaucanson above mentioned hath distinguished him¬
self still more eminently. That gentleman, encou¬
raged by the favourable reception of his flute-player,
made a duck, which was capable of eating, drinking,
and imitating exactly the voice of a natural one. Nay,
what is still more surprising, the food it swallowed was
evacuated in a digested state ; not that it was really
in a state of natural excrement, but only considerably
altered from what it was when swallowed ; and this
digestion was performed on the principles of solution,
not of trituration. The wings, viscera, and bones,
of this artificial duck, were also formed so as very
strongly to resemble those of a living animal. Even
in the actions of eating and drinking, this resemblance
was preserved ; the artificial duck swallowed with avi¬
dity and vastly quick motions of the head and throat;
and likewise muddled the water with its bill, exactly
like a natural one.
M. le Droz of La Chaux de Fonds, in the county
of Neufchattel, hath also executed some very curi«us
pieces of mechanism, which well deserve to be ranked
with those already mentioned. One was a clock, which
was presented to his Spanish majesty ; and had among
other curiosities, a sheep, which imitated the bleating
of a natural one ; and a dog watching a basket of fruit.
V hen any one attempted to purloin the fruit, the dog
gnashed
A U T [ 2S7 ] A U X
utomaton gnashed his teeth and barked ; and if it was actually ta¬
ll ken away, he never ceased barking till it was restored,
utmnnal. Besides this, he made a variety of human figures, which
exhibited motions truly surprising j but all inferior to
Mr Kempel’s chess-player, which may justly be look¬
ed upon as the greatest masterpiece in mechanics that
ever appeared. See Androides.
AUTONOMIA, a power of living or being go¬
verned by our own laws and magistrates. The liberty
of the cities which lived under the faith and protec¬
tion of the Romans, consisted in their autonomia, i. e.
they were allowed to make their own laws, and elect
their own magistrates, by whom justice was to be ad¬
ministered, and not by Roman presidents or judges, as
was done in other places which were not indulged the
autonomia.
AUTOPYROS, from ctvlof, and 7rv(>«f, ivheat; in
the ancient diet, an epithet given to a species of bread,
wherein the whole substance of the wheat was retained
without retrenching any part of the bran. Galen de¬
scribes it otherwise, viz. as bread where only the coarser
bran was taken out.—And thus it was a medium be¬
tween the finest bread, called sirnilagcneas, and the
coarsest caWe&furfuraceus. This was also called auto-
pyrites and syncomistus.
AUTRE -EGLISE, a village of Brabant, in the
Netherlands ; to which the left wing of the French
army extended, when the confederates obtained the
victory at Ramillies, in 1706. E. Long. 4. 50. N.
Lat. 50. 40.
AUTRICUM, the capital of the Carnutes, a peo¬
ple of Gallia Celtica; afterwards called Carnotena,
Carnntenus, and Civitas Carnotennm : Now Chartres,
in the Orleanois, on the Eure. E. Long. 1. 32. N. Lat.
48. 47.
AUTUMN, the third season of the year, when the
harvest and fruits are gathered in. Autumn is repre¬
sented in painting, by a man at perfect age, clothed like
the vernal, and likewise girded with a starry girdle j
holding in one hand a pair of scales equally poised, with
a globe in each *, in the other hand a bunch of divers
fruits and grapes. His age denotes the perfection of
this season ; and the balance, that sign of the zodiac
which the sun enters when our autumn begins.
Autumn begins on the day when the sun’s meridian
distance from the zenith, being on the decrease, is a
mean between the greatest and the least j which in
these countries is supposed to happen when the sun en¬
ters Libra. Its end coincides with the beginning of
winter. Several nations have computed the years by
autumns j the English Saxons, by tvinters. Tacitus
tells us, that the ancient Germans were acquainted
with all the other seasons of the year, but had no no¬
tion of autumn. Lidyat observes of the beginning of
the several seasons of the year, that
Dat Clemens hy.emeni, dat Petrus ver catKedratus,
eEstuat Urbanus, autumnat Bartholomceus.
Autumn has always been reputed an unhealthy season,
i ertullian calls it tentator valetudimnn; and the sati¬
rist speaks of it in the same light. Autumnus Libitince
yuestus acerbce.
AU1UMNAL POINT, is that part of the equinox
from which the sun begins to descend towards the south
Bale.
Autumnal Signs, in Astronotmj, are the signs Autumnal
Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, through Avhich the sun f|
passes during the autumn. Auxiliary.
Autumnal Equinox, that time when the sun enters '
the autumnal point.
AUTUN, an ancient city of France, in the depart¬
ment ol Saone and Loire, formerly the duchy of Bur¬
gundy, the capital of the Autonois, with a bishop’s
see. The length of this city is about three quarters of
a mile, and its breadth nearly equal. The river Ar-
roux washes its ancient Avails, Avhose ruins are so firm,
and the stones so closely united, that they seem almost
to be cut out of the solid rock. In this city are the
ruins of three ancient temples, one of Avhich Avas dedi¬
cated to Janus, and another to Diana. Here are like-
Avise a theatre and a pyramid, which last is probably a
tomb j it stands in a place called the Jield of urns, be¬
cause several urns had been found there. Here are al¬
so two antique gates of great beauty. The city con¬
tained about 8000 inhabitants in 18x5. E. Long. 4.
15. N. Lat. 46. 58.
AUTURA, or Audura, a river of Gallia Celtica,
only mentioned in the Lives of the Saints. Noav the
Eure, which falls into the Seine, on the left-hand or
south side.
AUVERGNE, a late province of France, about
100 miles in length and 75 in breadth. It is bound¬
ed on the north by the Bourbonnois; on the east by
Torez andVelayj on the west, by Limosin, Quercy,
and La Marche : and on the south, by Rovergne and
the Cevennes. It is divided into upper and lower :
the latter, otherwise called Limagne, is one of the finest
countries in the world. The mountains of Higher
Au\rergne render it less fruitful 5 but they afford good
pasture, which feeds great numbers of cattle, which are
the riches of that country. Auvergne supplies Lyons
and Paris Avith fat cattle, makes a large quantity of
cheese, and has manufactures of several kinds. The
capital of the Avhole province is Clei’mont. It is noAv
divided into the departments of Cantal and Puy de
Dome.
AUVERNxA.S, a very deep-coloured heady wine,
made of black raisins so called, which come from Or¬
leans. It is not fit to diink before it is above a year
old ; but if kept two or three years, it becomes ex¬
cellent.
AUXERRE, an ancient town of France in the de¬
partment of Yonne, and capital of the Auxerrois, and
lately a bishop’s see. The episcopal palace was one of
the finest in France, and the churches were also very
beautiful. This toxvu contained 11,300 inhabitants in
1815, and is xvell situated for trade with Paris, on the
river Yonne. E. Long. 3. 35. N. Lat. 47. 54.
AUXESIS, in Mythology, a goddess worshipped by
the inhabitants of Egina, and mentioned by Herodo¬
tus and Pausanias.
Auxesis, in Rhetoric, a figure whereby any thing
is magnified too much.
AUXILIARY, whatever is aiding or helping to
another.
Auxiliary Verbs, in Grammar, are such as help to
form or conjugate others ; that is, are prefixed to them,
to form or denote the modes or tenses thereof j as to
have and to be, in the English j etrc and avoir, in the
French 5 ho and sono in the Italian, &c. In the English
language,.
A X A [ 288 ] A X I
ary language, the auxiliary verb am supplies the want of
passive verbs,
catl. AUXO, in Mythology, the name of one of two Graces
''~w worshipped by the Athenians. See Hegemone,
AUXONNE, a small fortified town in France, in
the department of Cote d’Or ; seated on the river Saone,
over which there is a bridge of 23 arches, to facilitate
the running oft’ of the waters after the overflowing of
the river. It contained 2340 inhabitants in 1815.
E. Long. 5. 22. N. Lat. 47. 11.
AUXY j the French give the name of auxy wool to
that which is spun in the neighbourhood of Abbeville,
by those workmen who are called houpiers. It is a
very fine and beautiful wool, which is commonly used
to make the finest stockings.
AWARD, in Law, the judgment of an arbitrator,
or of one who is not appointed by the law a judge, but
chosen by the parties themselves for terminating their
difference. See Arbiter and Arbitration.
AWL, among shoemakers, an instrument wherewith
holes are bored through the leather, to facilitate the
stitching or sewing the same. The blade of the awl
is usually a little flat and bended, and the point ground
to an acute angle.
A WLAN, a small town of Germany, in the circle
of Suabia, seated on the river Kochen. E. Long. II.
15. N. Lat. 48. 52.
AWME, or Aume, a Dutch liquid measure con¬
taining eight steckens, or 20 verges or verteels, equal
to the tierce in England, or to one sixth of a ton of
France.
AWN. See Arista, Botany Index.
AWNING, in the sea-language, is the hanging a
sail, tarpawling, or the like, over any part of the ship,
to keep off the sun, rain, or wdnd.
AX, a carpenter’s instrument, serving to hew wmod.
The ax differs from the joiner’s hatchet, in that it is
made larger and heavier, as serving to hew large stuff j
and its edge tapering into the middle of its blade. It is
furnished with a long handle or helve, as being to be
used with both hands.
Battle-Ax. See Celt.
AX AMENT A, in antiquity, a denomination given
to the verses or songs of the salii, which they sung in
honour of all men. The word is formed, according to
some, from axare, q. d. nommare. Others will have
the carmina saliaria to have been denominated axamen-
ta, on account of their having been written in axibus,
or on wooden tables.
The axamenta were not composed, as some have as¬
serted, but only sung by the sain. The author of them
was Numa Pompilius j and as the style might not be
altered, they grew in time so obscure, that the salii
themselves did not understand them. Varro says they
were 700 years old. Quint. Inst. Or. lib. i. c. 11.
Axamenta, or Assamenta, in ancient music, hymns
or songs performed wholly with human voices.
AXAYACATL, the name of a species of fly,
common in Mexico, about the lake j the eggs of
which being deposited in immense quantities, upon the
rushes and corn-flags, form large masses, which are ta¬
ken up by fishermen and carried to market for sale.
This caviare, called ahuauhtli, which has much the
same taste with the caviare of fish, used to be eaten by
the Mexicans, and is uow a common dish among the
Spaniards. The Mexicans eat not only the eggs, but Axayactrti
the flies themselves, made up together into a mass, and |j
prepared with saltpetre. Axim.
AXATI, a town of ancient Baetica, on the Bsetis ;
now Lora, a small city of Andalusia, in Spain, seat¬
ed on the Guadalquiver. Wr. Long. 5. 20. N. Lat.
37. 20.
AXBRIDGE, a town of Somersetshire in England,
consisting of one long narrow street, and containing 853
inhabitants in 1811. W. Long. 2. 20. N. Lat. 51.30.
AXEL, a small fortified town in Dutch Flanders.
E. Long. 40. o. N. Lat. 51. 17.
AXHOLM, an island in the north-west part of
Lincolnshire in England. It is formed by the rivers
Trent, Idel, and Dan and is about ten miles long
and five broad. The lower part is marshy, but pro¬
duces an odoriferous shrub called go//; the middle is
rich and fruitful, yielding flax in great abundance, as
also alabaster which is used for making lime. The
principal town is called Axey, and is now very thinly
inhabited.
AXIACE, an ancient town of Sarmatia Europsea ;
now Oc’aakow, the capital of Budziac Tartary. E.
Long. 32. 30. N. Lat. 46. o.
AXILLA, in Anatomy, the arm-pit or the cavity
under the upper part of the arm.
Axilla, in Botany, is the space comprehended be¬
tween the stems of plants and their leaves. Hence we
say those flowers grow in the axillae of the leaves ; i. e.
at the base of the leaves, or just within the angle of
their pedicles.
AXILLARY, something belonging to or lying near
the axilla. Thus, axillary artery is that part of the
subclavian branches of the ascending trunk of the aorta
which passeth under the arm-pits j axillary glands are
situated under the arm-pits, enveloped in fat, and lie
close by the axillary vessels ; and axillary vein is one of
the snbclavians which passes under the arm pit, divid¬
ing itself into several branches, which are spread over
the arm.
AXIM, a small territory on the Gold coast in A-
frica. The climate here is so excessively moist, that it
is proverbially said to rain 11 months and 29 days of
the year. This excessive moisture renders it very un¬
healthy \ but it produces great quantities of rice, water
melons, lemons, oranges, &c. Here are also produced
vast numbers of black cattle, goats, sheep, tame pi¬
geons, &c. The whole country is filled with beautiful
and populous villages, and the intermediate lands well
cultivated j besides which the natives are very wealthy,
from the constant traffic carried on with them by the
Europeans for their gold. The capital, which is also
called Axim, by some Achambone, stands under the can¬
non of the Dutch fort St Antonio. Behind, it is secu¬
red by a thick wood that covers the whole declivity
of a neighbouring hill. Between the town and the sea
runs an even and spacious shore of beautiful white sand.
All the houses are separated by groves of cocoa and
other fruit trees, planted in parallel lines, each of an
equal width, and forming an elegant vista. The little
river Axim crosses the town j and the coast is defend¬
ed by a number of small pointed rocks which project
from the shore, and render all access to it dangerous.
The capital is situated in W. Long. 24. O. N. Lat. 5. o.
This canton is a kind of republic, the government
being
A X I [ 280 ] A Y L
Axim
II
Axis.
being divided between the Caboceroes or chief men
and Manaceroes or young men. It must be observed,
u however, that in their courts there is not even a pre¬
tence of justice : whoever makes the most valuable pre¬
sents to the judges is sure to gain the cause, the judges
themselves alleging the gratitude due for the bribes re¬
ceived as a reason : and if both parties happen to make
presents of nearly equal value, they absolutely refuse to
give the cause a hearing.
AXINOMANCY, Axinomantia, from K%ivn, se-
curis, and pcty%x, divinatio ; an ancient species of di¬
vination, or a method of foretelling future events by
means of an ax or hatchet.—This art v/as in consider¬
able repute among the ancients ; and was performed,
according to some, by laying an agate-stone on a red-
hot hatchet j and also by fixing a hatchet on a round
stake so as to be exactly poised j then the names of
those that were suspected were repeated, and he at
whose name the hatchet moved was pronounced guilty.
AXIOM, Axiom a (from «!<*«>, 1 am worthy) ; a
self-evident truth, or a proposition whose truth every
person perceives at first sight. Thus, that the whole is
greater than a part; that a thing cannot be and not be
at the same time ; and that from nothing, nothing can
arise ; are axioms.
Axiom is also an established principle in some art or
science. Thus, it is an axiom in physics, that nature
does nothing in vain ; that effects are proportional to
their causes, &c. So it is an axiom in geometry, that
things equal to the same thing are also equal to one
another j that if to equal things you add equals, the
sums will be equal, &c. It is an axiom in optics, that
the angle of incidence is equal to the angle of reflec¬
tion, &c.
AXIPOLIS, a town of the Triballi, in Mcesia In¬
ferior ; now Axiopoli, in Bulgaria. E. Long. 34. o.
N. Lat. 45. 40.
AXIS, in Geometry, the straight line in a plain
figure, about which it revolves, to produce or generate
a solid. Thus, if a semicircle be moved round its dia¬
meter at rest, it will generate a sphere, the axis of
which is that diameter.
Axis, in Astronomy, is an imaginary right line sup¬
posed to pass through the centre of the earth and the
heavenly bodies, about which they perform their diur¬
nal revolutions.
Axis, in Conic Sections, a right line dividing the sec¬
tion into two equal parts, and cutting all its ordinates
at right angles.
Axis, in Mechanics. The axis of a balance is that
line about which it moves, or rather turns about. Axis
of oscillation, is a right line parallel to the horizon,
passing through the centre about which a pendulum
vibrates.
dxis m Pentrochio, one of the six mechanical powers,
consisting of a peritrochium or wheel concentric with
the base of a cylinder, and moveable together with it
about its axis.
. Axis, in Optics, is that particular ray of light com¬
ing from any object which falls perpendicularly on the
eye.
Axis, in Architecture. Spiral axis, is the axis of
a.twisted column drawn spirally in order to trace the
circumvolutions without. Axis of the Ionic canital. is
Vol. III. Part I. f
a line passing perpendicularly through the middle of the
eye of a volute.
Axis of a Vessel, is an imaginary right line passing
through the middle of it perpendicularly to its base,
and equally distant from its sides.
Axis, in Botany, is a taper column placed in the
centre of some flowers or catkins, about which the other
parts are disposed.
Axis, in Anatomy, the name of the second vertebra
of the neck ; it hath a tooth which goes into the first
vertebra, and this tooth is by some called the axis.
AXMINSTER, a town of Devonshire, situated on
the river .Ax, in the great road between London and
Exeter, in W. Long. 3. 15. N. Lat. 50. 40. It was
a place of some note in the time of the Saxons, and con¬
tained 2387 inhabitants in 1811. Here is a consider¬
able manufactory of broad and narrow cloths, carpets,
cotton tapes, druggets, and leather articles.
AXQLOTLF. See Lacerta.
AXUMA, formerly a large city, and capital of the
whole kingdom of Abyssinia in Africa, but now redu¬
ced to a miserable village scarcely containing 100 inha¬
bitants. E. Long. 36. 4. N. Lat. 14. 13.
AXUNGIA, in a general sense, denotes old lard,
or the driest and hardest of any fat in the bodies of ani¬
mals : but more properly it signifies only hog’s lard.
Axungia Vitri, Sandiver, or Salt of Glass, a kind
of salt which separates from the glass while it is in
fusion. It is of an acrimonious and biting taste. The
farriers use it for cleansing the eyes of horses. It is also
made use of for cleansing the teeth j and it is sometimes
applied to running ulcers, the herpes, or the itch, by
way of desiccative.
AXYRIS. See Botany Index.
AY, a town of France, in the department of Marne,
near the river Marne, remarkable for its excellent
wines. E. Long. 3. 15. N. Lat. 49. 4.
AYAMONTE, a sea-port town of Andalusia in
Spain, with a strong castle built on a rock 5 seated on
the mouth of the river Guadiana. It has a commo¬
dious harbour, fruitful vineyards, and excellent wine,
W. Long. 8. 5. N. Lat. 37. 9.
AYENIA. See Botany Index.
AYLESBURY. See Ailesbury. This place
gave title of earl to the noble family of Bruce, now
to a branch of the Brudenals by succession.
AYLMER, John, bishop of London, in the reign
of Queen Elizabeth, was born in the year 1521, at
Aylmer-hall in the parish of Tilney, in the county of
Norfolk. Whilst a boy, he was distinguished for his
quick parts by the marquis of Dorset, afterwards duke
of Suffolk ; who sent him to Cambridge, made him his
chaplain and tutor to his children. One of these
children was the unfortunate Lady Jane Gray, who
soon became perfectly acquainted with the Latin and
Greek languages. His first preferment was to the
archdeaconry of Stow, in the diocese of Lincoln, which
gave him a seat in the convocation held in the first
year of Queen Mary, where he resolutely opposed the
return to Popery, to which the generality of the clergy
were inclined. He was soon after obliged to fly his
country, and take shelter among the Protestants in
Switzerland. On the accession of Queen Elizabeth, he
returned to England. In 1562, he obtained the arch-
O 0 deaconry
A Y B [ 2go ] AYR
deaconry of Lincoln j and was a member of the famous
synod of that year, which reformed and settled the
doctrine and discipline of the church of England. In
the year 1576, he was consecrated bishop of London.
He died in the year 1594, aged 73', and was buried in
St Paul’s. He was a learned man, a zealous father of
the church, and a bitter enemy to the Puritans. He
published a piece entitled, An harhrowe for faithful
and true subjects against the late blowne blaste con¬
cerning the government of ivomen, &c. This was
written whilst he was abroad in answer to Knox, who
published a book in Geneva under this title, The first
blast against the monstrous regiment and empire of
women. He is by Strype supposed to have published
Lady Jane Gray’s letter to Harding. He also as¬
sisted Fox in translating his History of Martyrs into
Latin.
AYR, a royal borough, of great antiquity, and con¬
siderable extent, the county town of Ayrshire, and the
seat of a justiciary court. It was erected into a royal
borough by William the Lion, about the year 11805
and the privileges granted by that charter are still en¬
joyed by the town. It is pleasantly situated on a point
of land, between the influx of the rivers Doon and Ayr
into the Atlantic ocean. The principal street is a fine
ornamented, broad, spacious way, with a row of ele¬
gant houses on each side. Its shape is somewhat of the
form of a crescent, having the tolbooth and town-hall
in the centre, with a fine spire, 135 feet high. In an¬
cient times we find Ayr to have been a town of con-
siderable trade. The merchants imported a great quan¬
tity of wine from France, and exported corn and
other produce of the country. The rising trade of
Glasgow proved very injurious to the trade of this town 5
but of late it has much revived. The sea shore is flat
and shallow7, and the entrance of the river Ayr, which
forms the harbour, is subject to the inconvenience of a
bar of sand, which is often thrown quite across the ri¬
ver, especially with a strong north-west wind. The
water never rises above twelve feet 5 but from some im¬
provements and extensive works now carrying on on
the sides of the river, it is hoped the channel will be
considerably deepened. There are erected two reflect-
ing light-houses to conduct vessels safely into the har¬
bour. There is great plenty of salmon in the two
rivers, the fishings of which rent at upwards of 200I.
Ship-building is carried on to a considerable extent,
and about 60 vessels belong to the port, whose burden
is nearly 6000 tons, and which are navigated by 300
seamen. The exports consist chiefly of cotton and
woollen goods, pig-iron, coals 5 and the imports of grain,
spirits, slates, &c. The trade is chiefly with Ireland.
There is an extensive manufacture of leather and soap.
Ayr was in ancient times, however, not only distin¬
guished for trade, but also for military strength. Here
the heroic exploits of Sir William Wallace began, and
h«re Edward I. fixed one of his most powerful garri¬
sons. Oliver Cromwell, too, judging it a proper place
to build a fortress, took possession of the old church,
and converted it and the neighbouring ground into a
regular citadel. On one of the mounts, within the walls
of this fortress, stood the old castle of Ayr, mentioned
in ancient histories, and the old church, the tower of
which still remains, noted for the meeting of the Scot-
ish parliament, when Robert Bruce’s titlq to the throne
3
was unanimously confirmed. Ayr is a very gay and a,,
fashionable place. It has well-attended races,& and is Ayrshire,
sometimes the seat of the Caledonian hunt. In 1801, v~—1
the population amounted to 5560, and in 1811 to 6291.
There is a strong chalybeate spring, which is famous
in scropbulous and scorbutic complaints. Tradition
reports an engagement to have taken place in the val¬
ley of Dalrymple, between two kings, Fergus andCoil-
us, in which both leaders lost their lives 5 the names of
places in the neighbourhood seem derived from this cir¬
cumstance, and a cairn of stones in the midst of the
valley is said to point out the place of the engagement.
History has only recorded two distinguished characters
in literature, natives of Ayr: 1st, Joannes Scotus, sur-
named celebrated for his acumen of judgment,
his readiness of wit, and fluency of elocution : and 2d,
the Chevalier Ramsay, author of Cyrus’s Travels, and
other works. To these we may add the late Robert
Burns, whose genius, at least, will bear a comparison
with any of the former.
Ayr, Newton of. While the borough of Ayr ex¬
tends along the south side of the river Ayr, this small
parish is situated on the north side of the same river.
It is a burgh of considerable domain, having in that
domain baronial jurisdiction; governed by a magistracy
elected by freemen, but not having parliamentary re¬
presentation. It is of very ancient erection, owing its
privileges to Robert Bruce, who upon being attacked
with leprosy, came to reside in this place, and was in¬
duced to establish a lazar-house, and to confer con¬
siderable favours on the town, and on the small village
of Priestwick, about two or three miles distant. In
the Newton of Ayr are a number of very good houses.
It has a tolerable good harbour, chiefly employed in
the coal trade. Lying on the banks of Ayr, and the
sea coast, the soil is mostly flat and sandy. Its extent
is about three miles long, and one and a half broad. In
1811, the population was 2809.
Ayr, a river in the parish ofMuirkirk, in Ayrshire 5
which after a course of about eighteen miles nearly
due west-falls into the sea at Ayr, where its sestuary
forms a fine harbour. It is for a considerable course
only a small rivulet 5 but joined by the Gi'eenock and
Garpel, tributary streams, it becomes a large body
of water. It frequently shifts its bed, and does con¬
siderable damage by its encroachments. Its banks are
steep and very romantic, and the number of seats
which ornament them present a fine picturesque sce¬
nery. Sorn-castle, Auchincruive, and Auchinleck, may
be mentioned as the chief beauties of the scene. The
village of Catrine is situated on its banks. It forms the
boundary between the districts of Ayrshire, denomina¬
ted Kyle and Garrick.
AYRSHIRE, a county of Scotland, which is bound¬
ed on the north by the county of Renfrew 5 on the east
by the shires of Lanark and Dumfries 5 on the south by
Galloway 5 and on the west by the Irish channel, and the
frith of Clyde. Its extent in length is about 80 miles,
and about 30 in breadth. It is divided into three great
districts or stewarties, which bear the names of Kyle,
Cunningham, and Carrick. These divisions are not alto¬
gether artificial 5 the river Doon forming the separation
between Carrick andKyle (or AyrshireProper), and the
river Irvine (at the mouth of which is a borough of the
same name) is the limit between Kyle and Cunningham.
These
AYR [29
iyrshire. These districts are very diflterent from each other in ap-
—v—' pearance. Carrick, and the interior parts of Kyle, are
mountainous, and more fitted for pasture; while the
coast of Kyle, and the greater part of Cunningham,
exhibit a fine level country, interspersed with numerous
villages and towns. The sea coast is mostly sandy,
with sunk rocks, possessing several good harbours. The
island of Ailsa is in this county. From the ridge, of
which the mountains of Carrick are a part, rise almost
all the rivers of the south of Scotland. The Tweed,
the Esk, the Nith, the Annan, the Urr, &c. flow to
the east and south, while the Stinchar, the Girvan, the
Doon, the Ayr, and the Lugar, pouring into the Irish
channel, intersect the county of Ayr with their copious
streams. Besides these, the Irvine and other srealler
rivulets, water the more northerly parts of the county.
Ayrshire has two royal boroughs, viz. Ayr and Irvine;
and several populous towns and villages, of which
Kilmarnock, Beith, Saltcoats, Kilwinning, Largs, Gir-
yan, and Ballantrae, are the chief. Fitted as Ayrshire
is in every respect for the carrying on of trade, and the
extension of agricultural improvements, it is only of late
years that much has been done in that way. Possessing
valuable seams of excellent coal, and enriched with the
returns from its exportation, little attention was paid to
the culture of the ground. The establishment of the
Douglas and Heron Bank, though ruinous to the pro¬
prietors, contributed greatly to promote the improve¬
ment of Ayrshire. The abundance of wealth which it
fallaciously seemed to pour into the country, and the
ready command of money it gave, set all the proprietors
towards improving and planting their estates, furnished
means for raising and burning lime for manure, and
above all, with the money from the bank, canals and
roads were opened through every part of the county.
Upon the failure of that extravagant and ill-conducted
speculation, the proprietors of many estates saw their
property brought to the hammer, and the greater part
of their lands purchased by new proprietors. The Ayr¬
shire breed of cattle is much esteemed y and a particu¬
lar district is celebrated for cheese. In 1808 the real
rent of the county was 314,673!. ; the valued rent,
according to an old estimate by which certain taxes
are imposed, is 191,605!. There are in the county
considerable woollen manufactures. In the parish of
Beith there are 70 mills for spinning thread ; and the
various branches of the cotton manufactures are ear¬
ned on in many parts to a great extent. At Muir-
kirk there are extensive iron-works. Ayrshire, be¬
sides the inexhaustible seams of coal with which it
abounds, possesses several other valuable minerals j
as freestone, limestone, iron-stone, several rich ores
of lead and copper. A few curious specimens are
also to be found in the hills of Carrick, of agates, por-
phyries, and of calcareous petrifactions. In the parishes
of Stair and New Cumnock, galena and plumbago have
been found; and in several parts of the county is found
that species of whetstone known by the name oi Ayr-
stone. ' There is plenty of marl in most of the lochs ;
the chief of which is Loch Doon, from which the river
of that name takes its rise. There is annually a great
quantity of sea-weed thrown ashore, from which many
tons of kelp are made. All the rivers of Ayrshire a-
bound with salmon, and the coasts are admirably adapt¬
ed for the white fishing.
1
AYS
The following is a statement of the population of this Aj,rsim.<5
county at two different periods. ||
Ayscue.
Parishes.
Ardrossan
Auchinleck
Ayr
Ballantrae
5 Barr
Beith
Cumbraes
Colmonell
Coylton
10 Craigie
Cumnock, New
Cumnock, Old
Dailly
Dalmellington
15 Dairy
Dalrymple
Dreghorn
Dundonald
Dunlop
20 Fenwick
Galston
Girvan
Irvine
Kilbirny
25 Kilbride, West
Kilmarnock
Kilmaurs
Kilwinning
Kirkmichael
30 Kirkoswald
Largs
Loudoun
Mauchline
May bole
35 Monktown
Muirkirk
Newton on Ayr
Ochiltree
Biccai’toun
40 St Quivox
Sorn
Stair
Stevenstoun
Stewartoun
45 Straitoun
Symington
Tarbolton
Population
in 11SS-
1297
887
2964
IO49
858
2064
259
1814
5*1
55i
1497
*336
839
739
1498
439
887
983
196
1113
1013
JI93
4025
651
885
4403
I094
2541
710
1168
1164
1494
1169
20 c8
582
745
581
1210
745
499
M94
369
1412
2819
1123
359
1365
Population in
Supplement.
Total, 59,268
1811, 103,954. See
Population
in 1790—98.
1518
775
4647
770
75°
2872
509
1100
667
700
1200
1632
1607
681
2000
380
830
1317
779
1281
I577
1725
4500
700
698
6776
“47
2360
956
I335
I025
2308
1800
3750
717
IIOO
1689
1150
1300
I45°
2779
518
2425
3000
934
610
1200
75,544
Ayrshire,
AYRY, or Aery, of Hawkst a nest or company of
hawks 5 so called from the old French word aire,
which signified the same.
AYSCUE, Sir George, a gallant English admi¬
ral, descended from a good family in Lincolnshire.
He obtained the honour of knighthood from King
Charles I. which, however, did not withhold him from
O 0 2 adherine-
A Z E [ 292 ] A Z O
Ayscue adhering to the parliament in the civil war : he was
H by them constituted admiral of the Irish seas, where
^zeir1, he is said to have done great service to the Protestant
v interest, and to have contributed much to the reduc¬
tion of the whole island. In 1651 he reduced Bar-
badoes and Virginia, then held for the king, to the
obedience of the parliament: and soon after the Re¬
storation behaved with great honour in the war with
the Dutch. In the famous engagement in the begin¬
ning of June 1666, when Sir George was admiral of
the white squadron, his ship the Royal Prince ran up¬
on the Gallop-sand j where, being surrounded with ene¬
mies, his men obliged him to strike. He went no more
to sea after this, but spent the rest of his days in retire¬
ment.
AYMOUTH. See Eymouth.
AYTONIA. See Botany Index.
AZAB, in the Turkish armies, a distinct body of
soldiery, who are great rivals of the Janizaries.
AZAI, a town of Touraine in France, seated on the
river Indre. E. Long. 10. 35. N. Lat. 47. 18.
AZALEA, American Upright Honeysuckle.
See Botany Index.
AZAMOR, a small sea-port town of the kingdom
of Morocco in Africa. It is situated on the river Mor-
beya, in the province of Duguella, at some considerable
distance from its mouth. This town, though formerly
very considerable, is not proper for maritime commerce,
because the entrance of the river is dangerous. It was
unsuccessfully besieged by the Portuguese in 15085 it
was taken, however, in 1513, by the duke of Bragan-
za, but abandoned about the end of the 16th century.
W. Long. 7. o. N. Lat. 32. 50.
AZARAKITES, a sect of Mahometan Arabs. See
Arabia, N° 143, et seq.
AZARIAH, or UzziAH, a king of Judah, succeeded
his father Amaziah, 810 years before Christ. Pie as¬
sembled an army of above 300,000 men, with which
he conquered the Philistines, and demolished the walls
of Gath, Jabniel,and Ashdod 5 built up the walls of Je¬
rusalem 5 furnished the city with conduits; and planted
gardens and vineyards : but at last, being elated with
his prosperity, and resolving to usurp the office of high-
priest, he was struck with a leprosy, which obliged him
to remain shut up in his palace for the rest of his days.
He died about 759 years before the Christian era, and
was succeeded by Jotham his son.—There are several
other persons of this name mentioned in the sacred
Scriptures.
AZAZEL. The word relates to the history of the
scape-goat, under the Jewish religion. Some call the
goat itself by this name, as St Jerome and Theodoret.
Dr Spenser says, the scape-goat was to be sent to Aza-
zel 5 by which is meant the devil. Mr Le Clerc trans¬
lates it prcecipitium, making it to be that steep and in¬
accessible place to which the goat was sent, and where
it was supposed to perish.
AZEKA, in Ancient Geography, a city of the Amo-
riles, in the lot of Judah 5 situated between Eleuthero-
polis and ./Elia (Jerome) 5 where the five kings of the
Amorites and their army were destroyed by hailstones
from heaven, (Joshua).
AZEM, Asem, Assam, or Acham, a country
of Asia to the north of Ava, but which is very little
known to Europeans. It is said to be yery fertile, and
2
to contain mines of gold, silver, iron, and lead, all
which belong to the king, who, in consequence of [|
enjoying the produce, requires no taxes from his peo- Azores,
pie. They have also great quantities of gum lac, and
coarse silk. It is also thought that the inhabitants of
Azem were long ago the inventors of cannon and
gun-powder 5 and that from them the invention passed
to the inhabitants of Pegu, and from thence to the
Chinese.
AZIMUTH, in Astronomy, an arch of the horizon,
intercepted between the meridian of the place and the
azimuth, or vertical circle passing through the centre
of the object, which is equal to the angle of the ze¬
nith, formed by the meridian and vertical circle : or
it is found by this proportion, As the radius to the
tangent of the latitude of the place, so is the tangent
of the sun’s or star’s altitude, for instance, to the cosine
of the azimuth from the south, at the time of the equi¬
nox.
Magnetical Azimuth, an arch of the horizon inter¬
cepted between the azimuth, or vertical circle, passing
through the centre of any heavenly body and the mag¬
netical meridian. This is found by observing the object
with an azimuth-compass.
AziMUTH-Compass, an instrument for finding either
the magnetical azimuth or amplitude of a heavenly ob-
ject.
The learned Dr Knight invented some time since a
very accurate and useful sea-compass, which is at pre¬
sent used in the navy. This instrument, with another
invented by the ingenious Mr Smeaton, answers the
purposes of an azimuth amplitude compass. See Com¬
pass.
Azimuth Circles, called also azimuths, or vertical
circles, ai'e great circles of the sphere intersecting each
other in the zenith and nadir, and cutting the horizon
at right angles. These azimuths are represented by
the rhumbs on common sea-charts, and on the globe
they are represented by the quadrant of altitude, when
screwed in the zenith. On these azimuths is reckoned
the height of the stars and of the sun when not in the
meridian.
AZMER, or Ajmeer, a town of the East Indies,
capital of a province of the same name, with a very
strong castle. It is about 62 leagues west from Agra.
The principal trade of this province is in saltpetre. It
was in this city that Sir Thomas Rowe had the honour
of being introduced to the great Mogul in 1716.
AZOGA ships, are those Spanish ships commonly
called the quicksilver ships, from their carrying quick¬
silver to the Spanish West Indies, in order to extract
the silver out of the mines of Mexico and Peru. These
ships, strictly speaking, are not to carry any goods un¬
less for the king of Spain’s account.
AZONI, in ancient mythology, a name applied by
the Greeks to such of the gods as were deities at large,
not appropriated to the worship of any particular town
or country, but acknowledged in general by all coun¬
tries, and worshipped by every nation. These the La¬
tins called dii communes. Of this sort were the Sun,
Mars, Luna, &c.
AZORES, islands in the Atlantic ocean, lying be¬
tween 25 and 33 degrees of west longitude, and be¬
tween 36 and 40 degrees of north latitude. They
belong to the Portuguese, and are also called the
Wastern
A Z U [ 293 ] A Z Y
Azores Western Isles, on account of their situation. They were
|| discovered by the Flemings in the 1 :th century. They
Azure. are seven in number. See AZORES, SUPPLEMENT.
—v^—1 AZOTH, in Ancient Chemistry, the first matter of
metals, or the mercury of a metal; more particularly
that which they call the mercury of philosophers, which
they pretended to draw from all sorts of metallic bo¬
dies.
AZOTUS, Azoth, or Ashdod, one of the five
cities of the Philistines, and a celebrated sea port on
the Mediterranean, situated about 14 or 15 miles south
of Ekron, between that and Ascalon. It was in this
city that the idol Dagon fell down before the ark :
and so strong a place it was, if we may believe He¬
rodotus, that it sustained a siege of 29 years by Psam-
meticus king of Egypt. It was, however, taken by
the Maccabees in a much shorter time j who burnt
both the city and temple, and with them about 1000
men. The town is now called by the Arabs Aasa-
neyun. It is but thinly inhabited, though the situa¬
tion is very pleasant: with regard to the houses, those
that were built in the time of Christianity, and which
are now inhabited by Mahometans, still preserve some
claim to admiration j but the modern buildings, though
generally of stone, have nothing in them which can
attract the notice of a traveller. The streets are pret¬
ty broad, the inhabitants mostly Mahometans, with a
few Christians of the Greek communion, who have a
church under the jurisdiction of the archbishop of Ga¬
za. The town is about a mile and a half in circumfe¬
rence ; and has in it a mosque, a public bath, a mar¬
ket-place, and two inns. The number of the inhabi¬
tants is between two and three thousand. The most re¬
markable things in this place are an old structure with
fine marble pillars, which the inhabitants say was the
house that Sampson pulled down j and to the south-east,
just out of the town, the water in which the eunuch
Candace was baptized by the apostle Philip: besides
these two, there are several ancient buildings, with ca¬
pitals and pillars standing.
AZURE, in a general sense, the blue colour of the
sky. See Sky and Blue.
Azure, among painters. This word, which at pre¬
sent signifies in general a fine blue colour, was formerly
applied to lapis lazuli, called aemre stone, and to the
blue prepared from it. But since a blue has been ex¬
tracted from cobalt, custom has applied to it the name
of a%ure, although it differs considerably from the for¬
mer, and is incapable of being used for the same pur- Azure
poses, and particularly for painting in oil. The former y
at present is called lapis lazuli, or only lapis ; and the Azymous.
blue prepared from it for painting in oil, is called ultra- """ y "
marine.—The name azure is generally applied to the
blue glass made from the earth of cobalt and vitrifiable
matters. This glass, which is called smalt when in
masses, is called azure only when it is reduced to a fine
powder. Several kinds of azure are distinguished, ac¬
cording to its degrees of beauty, by the names of fine
azure, powdered azure, and azure of four fires. In ge¬
neral, the more intense the colour, and the finer the
powder, the more beautiful and dear it is. Azure is
employed to colour starch ; hence it has also been call¬
ed starch blue. It is used for painting with colours,
and for a blue enamel.
Azure, in Heraldry, the blue colour in the arms
of any person below the rank of a baron. In the es¬
cutcheon of a nobleman, it is called sapphire ; and in
that of a sovereign prince, Jupiter. In engraving, this
colour is expressed by lines or strokes drawn horizon¬
tally.—This colour may signify Justice, Perseverance,
and Vigilance 5 but according to G. Leigh, when com¬
pounded with
Or '
Arg.
Gul.
Ver. '
Pur.
Sab. __
CO
a;
a
bo
f Cheerfulness.
| Vigilance.
! Readiness.
Enterprise.
Goodness.
Mournfulness.
The French heralds, M. Upton, and his followers, rank
this colour before gules.
AZYGOS, in Anatomy, a vein rising within the
thorax, on the right side, having no fellow on the left;
whence it is called azygos, or vena sine pari.
AZYMITES, in church history, Christians who
administer the eucharist with unleavened bread. The
word is formed from the Greek * priv. and fyy.*, fer¬
ment.—This appellation is given to the Latin by the
Greek church, because the members of the former use
fermented bread in the celebration of the eucharist.
They also call the Armenians and Maronites by the
same name, and for the same reason.
AZYMOUS, something unfermented, or made with¬
out leaven ; as unleavened bread. Sea biscuit is of this
kind; and therefore, according to Galen, less whole¬
some than bread that has been fermented.
B.
T) THE second letter of the English and most other
9 alphabets. It is the first consonant, and first
mute, and its pronunciation is supposed to resemble
the bleating of a sheep j upon which account Pierius
tells us in his hieroglyphics, that the Egyptians repre¬
sented the sound of this letter by the figure of that ani¬
mal.
B is also one of those letters which the eastern gram¬
marians call labial, because the principal organs em¬
ployed in its pronunciation are the lips. It is pronoun¬
ced
B. A A [ 294. ] BAB
Baal. ced by pressing the whole length of them together,
'■ 11. vt-—aml forcing them open with a strong breath. It has a
near affinity with the other labials P and V, and is
often used for P both by the Armenians and other
orientals, as in Belrtis for Petrus, apsens for absens,
&c. and by the Romans for V, as in amabit for ama-
vit, berna for verna, &c. whence arose that jest of Au-
relian on the emperor Bonosus, Non ut vivat natus est,
sed ut bibat.
Plutarch observes, that the Macedonians changed <p
into B, and pronounced Bilip, Berenice, &c. for Philip,
Pherenice, &c. ; and those of Delphos used B instead
of IT, for wrci6iiy, for Trntgav, &c.—The La¬
tins said suppono, oppono, for subpono, obpono ; and pro¬
nounced optinuit, though they wrote obtinuit, as Quin¬
tilian has observed.—They also used B for F nr PH :
thus, in an ancient inscription mentioned by Gruter,
Obrendario is used for Ofrendario.
As a numeral, B was used by the Greeks and He¬
brews to denote 2; but among the Romans for 300,
and with a dash over it (thus "b) for 3000.
B is also used as an abbreviation. Thus B. A. stands
lor bachelor of arts ; B. L. for bachelor of laws ; and
B. D. for bachelor of divinity. B. F. in the preface
to the decrees or senatus consulta of the old Romans,
signified bonum factum. In music, B stands for the
tone above A j as Bb, or bB, does for B flat, or the
semitone major above A. B also stands for bass j and
B. C. for basso continue, or thorough-bass.
BAAL, the same as Bel, or Belus j an idol of
the Chaldeans, and Phoenicians or Canaanites. The
former worshipped Mars under this name, according
* Artt/gwif. to Josephus*; who, speaking of Thurus the successor
lib. viii. of Ninas, says, “ To this Mars the Assyrians erected
cap. 7. t|je statue, and worshipped him as a god, calling
him BaalP It is probable the Phoenicians worshipped
the sun under the name of Baal ; for Josiah, willing to
make some amends for the wickedness of Manasseh, in
worshipping Baal, and all the host of heaven, put to
death the idolatrous priests that burnt incense unto Baal,
to the sun, and to the moon, and to the planets, and to
all the host of heaven. He likewise took atvay the
horses that the kings of Judah had given to the sun,
t 2 Kings und burnt the chariots of the sun with fire -f.
Kxiii. 5. 11. The temples consecrated to this god, are called in
the Scripture Chamamm, which signifies places en¬
closed with walls in winch was kept a perpetual fire.
Maundrell, in his journey from Aleppo to Jerusalem,
observed some traces of these enclosures in Syria. In
most of them were no statues; in a few there were
some, but of no uniform figure.
The word baal (in the Punic language), signifies lord
or master; and doubtless meant the supreme Deity,
the Lord and Master of the universe. It is often joined
with the name of some false god, as Baal-berith, Baal-
peor, Baal-%ephon, and the like. This deity passed
from the Phoenicians to the Carthaginians, who were a
colony of the Phoenicians ; as appears from the Cartha¬
ginian names, Hannibal, Asdrubal, &c. according to
the custom of the east, where kings and great men add¬
ed to their own names those of their gods.
. r^-1's fa^se deity is frequently mentioned in Scripture
in the plural number {Baalim) ; which may signifv, ei¬
ther that the name Baal was given to several different
gods j or that there were many statues, hearing differ-
»
ent appellations, consecrated to this idol. Arnobius Baa|
tells us, that Baal was of an uncertain sex ; and that jj
his votaries, when they called upon him, invoked him
thus : Hear us, whether thou art a god or a goddess.
Some learned men think, that the Baal of the Phoe¬
nicians is the Saturn of the Greeks; which is probable
enough from the conformity there is between the hu¬
man sacrifices offered to Saturn and those which the
Scripture tells us were offered to Baal. Others are of
opinion, that Baal was the Phoenician or Tyrian Her¬
cules, a god of great antiquity in Phoenicia.
Baal-berith, the god of the Shechemites. Bo-
chart conjectures, that Berith is the same as Beroe,
the daughter of Venus and Adonis, who was given in
marriage to Bacchus; and that she gave her name to
the city of Berith in Phoenicia, and became afterwards
the goddess of it. Baal-berith, signifies Lord of the
covenant, and may be taken for the god who presides
over alliances and oaths, in like manner as the Greeks
had their Zsvj and the Romans their TJeus Fi-
dius, or Jupiter Pistius. The idolatrous Israelites, we
are told, made Baal-berith their god, Judg. viii. 33.
Baal-peor, Baal-phegor, or Beel-phegor, an idol
of the Moabites and Midianites. We are told, that
Israel joined himself to Baal-peor ; and that Solomon
erected an altar to this idol upon the mount of Olives,
Baal-peor has been supposed to be no other than a
Priapus, and that the worship of him consisted in the
most obscene practices. Others have thought, that as
Baal is a general name signifying Lord, Peor may be
the name of some great prince deified after his death.
Mede imagines that Peor being the name of a moun¬
tain in the country of Moab, on which the temple of
Baal wras built, Baal-peor may be only another name
of that deity, taken from the situation of his temple ;
in like manner as Jupiter is styled Olympius, because
he was worshipped in a temple built on Mount Olym¬
pus. Selden, who is of this latter opinion, conjectures
likewise that Baal peor is the same with Pluto; which
he grounds upon these w’ords of the Psalmist*, They* Vs.wl*
joined themselves unto Baal-peor, and ate the offerings
of the dead; though by the sacrifices ov offerings of the
dead, in this passage, may be meant no more than sa¬
crifices or offerings made to idols, or false gods, who
are very properly called the dead, in contradistinction
to the true God, who is styled in Scripture the living
God.
Baal-ZEBUB, Beel-vsebub, or Bel%ebub; the idol,
or god, of the Ekronites. In Scripture he is called
the Prince of Devils. His name is rendered the Lord
oj files, or the God fly; which some think was a mock
appellation bestowed on him by the Jews. He had a
famous temple and oracle at Ekron. Ahaziah king of
Israel, having fallen from the terrace of his house into
a lower room, and being dangerously hurt, sent to
consult this deity, to know if he should be cured of
his w'ounds. Jhe worship of this false god must have
prevailed in our Saviour’s time, since the Jews accused
hiai of driving out devils in the name of Bel%ebub
their prince. Scaliger derives the name of this deity
irom Baalim-asebahim, which signifies the Lord of sa¬
crifices.
BABBLING, among hunters, is when the hounds
are too busy after they have found a good scent.
BABEL, a city and tower undertaken to be built
BAB
[ 295 ] BAB
Babel, the whole human race soon after the flood, and re-
—v ' markable for the miraculous frustration of the attempt
by the confusion of languages. As to the situation of
ancient Babel, most authors are of opinion that it was
exactly in the place where the celebrated city of Baby¬
lon afterwards stood. That it was in the same country,
appears indisputably from Scripture ; but that it was
exactly in the same place is what cannot be proved, nor
is it a matter of any consequence.
Authors have been much divided about the motive
by which the whole race of mankind were induced to
join as one man in such an undertaking. Some have
imagined that it was out of fear of a second deluge ;
others, that they knew beforehand that they were to be
dispersed through all the different countries of the world,
and built this torver in order to defeat the design of
the Deity, because having a tower of such vast height
as they proposed, those who were at a distance could
easily find their way back again. Had either of these
been their design, however, it is probable they would
have chosen an eminence rather than a plain for the si¬
tuation of their tower, or indeed that they would have
chosen some high mountain, such as Ararat, for their
mark, rather than any tower at all : for though it is
said that they designed the top of their tower to reach
to heaven, we can scarcely suppose them to have been
so absurd, as to imagine this possible in the sense we
understand it *, and must therefore rather take it in the
limited sense in which it is often used by Moses and
his countrymen, where they speak of cities walled up
to heaven. Others there are who imagine that the
top of this tower was not to reach up to heaven, but
to be consecrated to the heavens, i. e. to the worship
of the sun, moon, and stars ; of the fire, air, &c. and
other natural powers, as deities ; and therefore that the
true Deity interposed in order to prevent a total and
irrecoverable defection. Certain it is, that the species
of idolatry which takes for the objects of its worship
those natural agents, as it is the most ancient, so it is
by far the most rational, and the most difficult to be
disproved. It is much more difficult, for instance, to
prove that the sun, which by his enlivening beams
gives vigour to the whole creation, is not a deity, than
that a log of wood is not one : and hence if such a sy¬
stem of religion became universally established among
mankind, it would be impossible ever afterwards to
eradicate it. Indeed, that the scheme of Babel, what¬
ever it was, could have been put into execution by man,
seems evident from the interposition of the Deity on the
occasion ; for we cannot suppose that he would have
worked a miracle on purpose to defeat that which would
have defeated itself if he had let it alone : and he ex¬
pressly says, That now nothing could be restrained from
them; which intimates very plainly, that, had this
scheme gone on, the plan which God had laid for The
government of the world would have been totally fru¬
strated : and agreeable to this hypothesis Dr Tennison
supposes that the tower was of a pyramidal form, in imi¬
tation of the spires of flame ; and that it was erected in
honour of the sun, as being the most probable cause of
drying up the flood.
As to the materials made use of in the building of
this tower, the Scripture informs us that they were
bricks and slime or bitumen. According to an eastern
tradition, three years wei’e taken up in making the
bricks, each of which was 13 cubits long, 10 broad, Babel
and five thick. Oriental writers say, that the city was lj
313 fathoms in length, and 151 in breadth ; that the Babington.
Avails were 5533 fathoms high, and 33 in breadth J .*
and that the tower itself was no less than 10,000 fa¬
thoms, or 12 miles high. Even St Jerome affirms from
the testimony of eye-witnesses, who, as he says, had ex¬
amined the remains of the tower, that it Avas four miles
high 5 but Ado makes the height to have been no less
than 5000 miles. The only account of its dimensions
which can be at all depended upon (supposing it to have
been the same which afterwards stood in the midst of
the city of Babylon, and round which Nebuchadnezzar
built the temple of Belus), is that gi\ren under the ar¬
ticle Babylon.
BABEL Mandel, the Gate of Mourning j a
famous strait in the Indian ocean, between the coast of
Arabia Felix in Asia, and that of Adel and Zeila in
Africa, at the entrance into the Red sea. By some it
is also called the straits of Moka. It is narrorv, and
difficult to sail through, on account of the sand banks.
At the mouth of the strait is a small island called also
Babel Mandel, which is little else than a barren rock.
E. Long. 44. 30. N. Lat. 12. 40.
BABENHAUSEN, a toivn of Bavaria, 16 miles
SE. from Ulm. E. Long. 9. 16. N. Lat. 48. 39.
BABINA, Commonwealth of, a society ludicrous¬
ly so called, which Avas founded in Poland in the reigu
of Sigismund Augustus, in the 16th century. It took
its rise from a set of gentlemen, inhabitants of Lublin,
who had agreed to meet at a place called Babina,
merely for the purposes of mirth and jollity. In time
their number increased, and they formed themselves
into a regular government, under the presidency of a
king, senate, and chief magistrate. The magistrates
were elected from something Avhich appeared ridiculous
in the character or conduct of any of the members.
For instance, if any person was meddling or officious,
he was immediately created an archbishop; a blun¬
dering or disputatious member Avas promoted to the
speaker’s chair ; a boaster of his own courage, and
vain-glorious Thraso, Avas honoured Avith the commis¬
sion of generalissimo, which was presented him Avith
great ceremony by the subordinate heroes. Those
Avho declined the office for which they Avere declared
qualified Avere persecuted with hissings, and abandon¬
ed by the society. Thus every vice and every foible
was attacked Avith ridicule ; and Babina became in a
short time the terror, the admiration, and the reform¬
er of the Polish nation : genius flourished, Avit was
cultivated, and the abuses which had crept into govern¬
ment and society were corrected by the judicious ap¬
plication of good-humoured satire. Never did any
institution of this nature become so general or so use¬
ful ; but at length it degenerated into a set of buffoons,
and banterers of every thing sacred or profane. For
several years it was patronized by the kings of Po¬
land, and Sigismund himself became a member; the
starosta of Babina telling him jocularly, that “ his
majesty had certain qualities Avhich entitled him to
the first dignity in the commonwealth.” Not the
least remnant of the society noAV remains, though it
was honoured Avith extraordinary privileges by kings
and emperors.
BABINGTON, Gervase, bishop of Worcester, .
Avas.
BAB [ 296 ] BAB
B&bingion was born, according to Fuller, in Nottinghamshire •,
II but in what year is uncertain. He was sent to Tri-
, tiHbylon. njty College, Cambridge, of which he was made fellow ;
and, in 1578, was incorporated master of arts at Ox¬
ford. He appears, however, to have made Cambridge
the place of his residence, where he became an eminent
preacher j and, being now doctor in divinity, was made
domestic chaplain to Henry earl of Pembroke. In this
station he is supposed to have assisted the countess in
her translation of the Psalms. In 1588 he was install¬
ed prebend of Hereford, and in 1591 consecrated bishop
of LandafF. In 1594 he was translated to the see of
Exeter, and thence to Worcester in 1597. About
this time, or soon after, he was made queen’s counsel
for the marches of Wales. He was a considerable be¬
nefactor to the library belonging to the cathedral of
Worcester, where he was buried in May 1610 with¬
out a monument. The several historians who have
mentioned this prelate agree in giving him the cha¬
racter of a learned and pious man. His writings, like
those of most of his cotemporaries, abound with puns
and quaint expressions. His works were printed both
in folio and quarto in 1615, and again in folio in 1637,
under this title : The works of the right reverendfather
in God Gervase Babington, late bishop of Worcester, con-
taining comfortable notes upon the five books of Moses,
vi%. Genesis, Sfc. As also an exposition upon the Creed,
the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer; with a con¬
ference betwixt man's frailtie andfaith, and three ser¬
mons, Sfc.
BABOON, in Zoology. See Simia, Mammalia
Index.
BABYLON, the capital of the ancient kingdom of
Babylonia or Chaldea, and supposed to have stood in
E. Long. 44. o. N. Lat. 32. O. Semiramis is said by
some, and Belus by others, to have founded this city.
But, by whomsoever it was founded, Nebuchadnezzar
was the person who put the last hand to it, and made
it one of the wonders of the world. The most famous
works in and about it were the walls of the city, the
temple of Belus, Nebuchadnezzar’s palace, the hang¬
ing gardens, the banks of the river, the artificial lake,
and canals.
City de- ’^*ie c^y was surrounded with walls, in thickness 87
scribed. feet» iu height 350 feet, and in compass 480 furlongs
or 60 of our miles. Thus Herodotus, who was him¬
self at Babylon j and though some disagree with him in
these dimensions, yet most writers give us the same, or
nearly the same, as he does. Diodorus Siculus dimi¬
nishes the circumference of these walls very considera¬
bly, and takes somewhat from the height of them, as
in Herodotus; though he seems to add to their breadth,
by saying, that six chariots might drive abreast thereon :
while the former writes, that one chariot only might
turn upon them ; but then he places buildings on each
side of the top of these walls, which, according to him,
were but one story high j which may pretty well recon¬
cile them together in this respect. It is observed, that
those who give the height of these walls but at 50 cu¬
bits, speak of them only as they were after the time
of Darius Hystaspis, who caused them to be beaten
down to that level. These walls formed an exact square,
each side of which was 120 furlongs, or 15 miles, in
length ; and were all built of large bricks cemented to¬
gether with bitumen, which in a short time grows harder
than the very brick and stone which it cements. The
city was encompassed, without the walls, with a vast
ditch filled with water, and lined with bricks on both
sides ; and as the earth that was dug out of it served
to make the bricks, we may judge of the depth and
largeness of the ditch from the height and thickness of
the walls. In the whole compass of the wall there were
IOO gates, that is, 25 on each of the four sides, all
made of solid brass. Between every two of these gates,
at proper distances, were three towers, and four more
at the four corners of this great square, and three be¬
tween each of these corners and the next gate on either
side, and each of these towers was ten feet higher than
the walls. But this is to be understood only of those
parts of the walls where towers were needful for de¬
fence. For some parts of them being upon a morass,
and inaccessible by an enemy, there the labour and cost
was spared, which, though it must have spoiled the sym¬
metry of the whole, must be allowed to have savoured
of good economy 5 though that is what one would not
have expected from a prince who had been so deter¬
mined, as Nebuchadnezzar must have been, to make
the city complete both for strength and beauty. The
whole number, then, of these towers amounted to no
more than 250 ; whereas a much greater number would
have been necessary to have made the uniformity com¬
plete all round. From each of the 25 gates on each side
of the square, there was a straight street, extending to
the corresponding gate in the opposite wall j whence the
whole number of the streets must have been but 30 $
but then they were each about 15 miles long, 25 of
them crossing the other 25 exactly at right angles.
Besides these whole streets, we must reckon four half
streets, which were but rows of houses facing the four
inner sides of the walls. These four half streets were
properly the four sides of the city within the walls,
and were each of them 200 feet broad, the whole
streets being about 150 of the same. By this inter¬
section of the 50 streets, the city was divided into
676 squares, each of four furlongs and a half on each
side, or two miles and a quarter in compass. Bound
these squares, on every side towards the streets, stood
the houses, all of three or four stories in height, and
beautified with all manner of ornaments: and the space
within each of these squares was all void, and taken
up by yards, or gardens, and the like, either for plea¬
sure or convenience.
A branch of the Euphrates divided the city into
two, running through the midst of it, from north to
south ; over which, in the very middle of the city, was
a bridge, a furlong in length, or rather more ; and in¬
deed much more, if we hearken to others, who say it was
no less than five stades or furlongs in length, though
but 30 feet broad, a difference we shall never be able
to decide. This bridge, however, is said to have been
built with wonderful art, to supply a defect in the bot¬
tom of the river, which was all sandy. At each end
of this bridge were two palaces : the old palace on the
east side, the new one on the west side of the river $ the
former of which took up four of the squares above-
mentioned, and the latter nine. The temple of Belus,
which stood next to the old palace, took up another of
the same squares.
The whole city stood in a large flat or plain, in a
very fat and deep soil: that part or half of it on the
east
BAB
5 never
peo-
,3
Me of
east side of the river was the old city, and the other on
the west was added by Nebuchadnezzar, both being
included within the vast square bounded by the walls
aforesaid. The form of the whole was seemingly bor¬
rowed from Nineveh, which was also 480 furlongs 5 but
though it was equal in dimensions to this city, it was
less with respect to its form, which was a parallelogram,
whereas that of Babylon was an exact square. It is
supposed, that Nebuchadnezzar, who had destroyed that
old seat of the Assyrian empire, proposed that this new
one should rather exceed it j and that it was in order
to fill it with inhabitants, that he transported such
numbers of the captives from other countries hither j
though that is what may be disputed, seeing he therein
only followed the constant practice of the kings of As¬
syria, who thought this the most certain means of en¬
suring their conquests either to themselves or their
posterity.
But it plainly appears, that it was never wholly in¬
habited ; so that, even in the meridian of its glory, it
may be compared with the flower of the field, which
flourishes to day, and to-morrow is no more. It never
had time to grow up to what Nebuchadnezzar visibly
intended to have made it ; for, Cyrus removing the
seat of the empire soon after to Shushan, Babylon fell
by degrees to utter decay : yet it must be owned, that
no country was better able to support so vast and popu¬
lous a city, had it been completed up to its first design.
But so far was it from being finished according to its
original design, that, when Alexander came to Baby¬
lon, Q. Curtius tells us, “ No more than 90 furlongs
of it were then builtwhich can be no otherwise un¬
derstood than of so much in length ; and, if we allow
the breadth to be as much as the length (which is the
utmost that can be allowed), it will follow, that no
more than 8100 square furlongs were then built up¬
on : but the whole space within the walls contained
14,400 square furlongs ; and therefore there must
have been 6300 square furlongs remaining unbuilt,
which, Curtius tells us, w'ere ploughed and sown.
And, besides this, the houses were not contiguous, but
all built with a void space on each side, between house
and house.
The next great work of Nebuchadnezzar was the
temple of Belus. The wonderful tower, however, that
stood in the middle of it, was not his work, but was
built many ages before; that, and the famous tower
of Babel, being, as is commonly supposed, one and
the same structure. This tower is said to have been
composed of eight pyramidal ones raised above one
another, and by Herodotus said to have been a furlong
in height 5 but as there is an ambiguity in his expres¬
sion, it has been disputed whether each of the towers
was a furlong in height, or the whole of them taken
together. On the latter supposition, which is the
most probable, this tow-er must have exceeded the high¬
est of the Egyptian pyx-amids by 179 feet, though it fell
short of its breadth at the basis by 33. The way to
go up was by stairs on the outside round it j whence it
seems most likely, that the whole ascent was, by the
benching in, drawn in a sloping line from the bottom
to the top eight times round it; and that this made
the appearance of eight towers, one above the other.
Till the times of Nebuchadnezzar, it is thought this
tower was all the temple of Belus ; but as he did by
Vol. III. Part I. i
[ 297 f
BAB
the other ancient buildings of the city, so he did by Babylon.
this, making great additions thereto, by vast edifices' y—
erected round it, in a square of two furlongs on eveiy
side, and just a mile in circumference, which exceeded
the square at the temple of Jerusalem by 1800 feet.
On the outside of these buildings was a wall which en¬
closed the whole ; and, in consideration of the regula¬
rity wherewith this city was to all appearance marked
out, it is supposed, that this wall was equal to the
square of the city wherein it stood, and so is concluded
to have been two miles and a half in circumference.
In this wall were several gates leading into the temple,
and all of solid brass j which it is thought may have
been made out of the brazen sea, and brazen pillars,
and other vessels and ornaments of the kind, which Ne¬
buchadnezzar had transported from Jerusalem ; for in
this temple he is said to have dedicated his spoils from
that of Jerusalem.
In this temple were several images or idols of massyidolsof
gold, and one of them, as we have seen, 40 feet in gold, See.
height; the same, as supposed, with that which Nebu¬
chadnezzar consecrated in the plains of Dura. For
though this last is said to have been 60 cubits, or 90
feet high, these dimensions appear so incredible, that it
has been attempted to reconcile them into one, by sup¬
posing, that in the 90 feet the height of the pedestal is
included, and that the 40 feet are for the height of the
statue without the pedestal; and being said to have
weighed 1000 talents of Babylon, it is thence comput¬
ed, that it was worth three millions and a half of our
money. In a word, the whole weight of the statues
and decorations, in Diodorus Siculus, amounting to 5000
and odd talents in gold, the whole is estimated at above
2i,ooo,oool. of our money ; and a sum about equal to
the same, in treasure, utensils, and ornaments, not men¬
tioned, is allowed for.
Next to this temple, on the east side of the river,
stood the old palace of the kings of Babylon, being four
miles in circumference. Exactly opposite to it, on the
other side of the river, was the new palace built by Ne¬
buchadnezzar, eight miles in circumference, and conse¬
quently four times as big as the old one.
But nothing was more wonderful at Babylon than ijangjJS(,
the hanging-gardens, which Nebuchadnezzar made in gardens,
complaisance to his wife Amyte; who, being a Mede,
and retaining a strong inclination for the mountains
and forests of her own country, was desirous of having
something like them at Babylon. They are said to
have contained a square of four plethra, or 400 feet,
on each side ; and to have consisted of terraces one
above another, carried up to the height of the wall of
the city, the ascent from teiTace to terrace being by
steps ten feet wide. The whole pile consisted of sub¬
stantial arches upon arches, and was strengthened by
a wall surrounding it on every side, 22 feet thick ; and
the flooi's on each of them were laid in this order :
First, on the tops of the arches was laid a bed or pave¬
ment of stones 16 feet long, and four feet broad 5 over
this was a layer of reed mixed with a gTeat quantity
of bitumen $ and over this two courses of brick, closely
cemented together with plaster 5 and over all these were
thick sheets of lead, and on these the earth or mould
of the garden. This floorage was designed to retain
the moisture of the mould; which was so deep, as to
give root to the greatest trees which were planted up-
F p on
BAB [ 298 ] BAB
Babylon, on every terrace, together with great variety of other
'—' vegetables pleasing to the eye. Upon the uppermost of
these terraces was a reservoir, supplied by a certain en¬
gine with water from the river, from whence the gar-
6 dens on the other terraces were supplied.
Banks of The other works attributed to Nebuchadnezzar by
canalVe&' Berosus and Abydenus, were the banks of the river, the
‘ ■ t • artificial canals, and the great artificial lake said to have
been sunk by Semiramis. The canals were cut out on
the east side of the Euphrates, to convey the water of
the river, when it overflowed its banks, into the Tigris,
before they reached Babylon. The lake was on the
west side of Babylon ; and, according to the lowest
computation, 40 miles square, 160 in compass, and in
depth 35 feet, as we read in Herodotus, or 75, as Me-
gasthenes will have it j the former, perhaps, measured
from the surface of the sides, and the latter from the
tops of the banks that were cast up upon them. This
lake was dug to receive the waters of the river, while
the banks were building on each side of it. But both
the lake, and the canal which led to it, were preserved
after that work was completed, being found of great
use, not only to prevent all overflowings, but to keep
water all the year, as in a common reservoir, to be let
out, on proper occasions, by sluices, for the improve¬
ment of the land.
The banks were built of brick and bitumen, on
both sides of the river, to keep it within its channel ;
and extended on each side throughout the whole length
of the city, and even farther, according to some, who
reckon they extended 160 furlongs, or twenty miles j
whence it is concluded they must have begun two miles
and a half above the city, and have been continued
an equal distance below it, the length of the city being
no more than 13 miles. Within the city they were
built from the bottom of the river, and of the same
thickness with the walls of the city itself. Opposite
to each street, on either side of the river, was a brazen
gate in tire said wall, with stairs leading down from it
to the river; these gates were open by day, and shut by
. night.
Berosus, Megasthenes, and Abydenus, attribute all
these works to Nebuchadnezzar; but Herodotus tells
us, the bridge, the banks, and the lake, were the
work of a queen after him, called Nitocris, who may
have finished what Nebuchadnezzar left imperfect, and
thence have had the honour this historian gives her of
the whole.
The tower or temple stood till the time of Xerxes.
But that prince, on his return from'the Grecian expe¬
dition, having first plundered it of its immense wealth,
demolished the whole, and laid it in ruins. Alexander,
on his return to Babylon from his Indian expedition,
proposed to rebuild it, and accordingly set 10,000 men
to work to clear away the rubbish. But his death hap¬
pening soon after, a stop was put to all further proceed¬
ings in that design. After the death of that conqueror,
the city of Babylon began to decline apace ; which was
chiefly owing to the neighbourhood of Seleucia built by
Seleucus Nicator, as is said, out of spite to the Babylo¬
nians, and peopled with 500,000 persons drawn from
Babylon, which by that means continued declining till
the very people of the country were at a loss to tell
where it had stood.
Such, is the description we have by ancient historians
3
of the grandeur of this city; which, if these accounts Babvloi
are not exaggerated, must have exceeded every piece of' in¬
human grandeur that hath yet appeared. Many of
the moderns, however, are of opinion that these mag¬
nificent descriptions are very far from being true ; al¬
though it is certain that few other arguments can be
brought against the reality of them, than that we do not
see things of a similar kind executed in our own days.
The following are the arguments used on this subject by
Goguet. 7
“ Authors have greatly extolled the public works Goguet’s
and edifices which once rendered Babylon one of thearsument
wonders of the world. We may reduce all these ob-^a'”stt'
jects to five principal heads : 1. The height of its walls ; 1
2. The temple of Belus ; 3. The hanging gardens; 4.relation.
The bridge built over the river Euphrates, and the quays
which lined the river ; 5. The lake and canals dug by
the hand of man to distribute the waters of the Eu¬
phrates.
“ All these works, so marvellous in the judgment of
antiquity, appear to me to have been extremely exagge¬
rated by the authors who have spoke 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 P
“ I shall say the same of that square building, known
under the name of the temple of Belus. It was com¬
posed of eight towers placed one above another, di¬
minishing alwrays as they went up. Herodotus does
not tell us what was the height of this monument.
Diodorus says, that it surpassed all belief. Strabo fixes
it to one stadium, a measure which answers nearly to
600 of our feet : For in the time of this geographer, the
stadia were much more considerable than in the first
ages. The entire mass of this building ought to have
been answerable to its excessive height; and this is also
the idea that the ancients designed to give us of it. We
may judge by the following fact. Xerxes had entirely
demolished this temple. Alexander undertook to re¬
build it. He designed to begin by clearing the place
and removing the ruins. Ten thousand workmen who
were employed two months in this work, were not, say
they, able to finish it.
“ The riches enclosed in the temple of Belus were
proportioned to its immensity. Without speaking of the
tables and censers, the cups and other sacred vases, of
massy gold, there was a statue 40 feet high, which
alone weighed 1000 Babylonish talents. In short, ac¬
cording to the inventory that the ancients have given
us of the riches contained in this temple, the total sum
would amount to two hundred and twenty millions and
a half of French livres. Exaggerations like these de¬
stroy themselves.
“ As to the hanging gardens, according to all ap¬
pearance they never existed. The silence of Herodotus
on a work so singular and so remarkable, determines
one to place in the rank of fables all that the other
writers have delivered upon this pretended wonder.
Herodotus had carefully visited Babylon. He enters
into such details as prove that he has omitted none of
the rarities of that city. Can we presume that he
would have passed over in silence such a work as the
hanging gardens ? All the authors who have spoken of
it are of much later date than this great historian.
None of them except Berosus speaks on his own testi¬
mony.
BAB
Babylon, mony* ^ *s always °n the report of others. Diodorus
Babylonia, had extracted from Ctesias vvhat he says of these famous
—-v—-' gardens. There is also great appearance that Strabo
had drawn from the same source. In a word, the
manner in which Quintus Curtius expresses himself,
sufficiently shows how much the existence of these
gardens appeared to him suspicious. He judged they
owed the greatest part of it to the imagination of the
Greeks.
“ Let us now speak of the bridge of Babylon, which
the ancients have placed in the number of the most
mavellous works of the east. It was near 100 fathoms
in length, and almost four in breadth. We cannot
deny but that a great deal of art and labour was ne¬
cessary to lay the foundations, which it could not be
easy to settle in the bed of an exti’emely deep and ra¬
pid river, which also rolls along a prodigious quantity
of mud, and whose bottom is entirely sandy. They had
therefore taken many precautions to secure the piers
of the bridge of Babylon. They were built of stones
joined and fastened together with cramps of iron, and
their joints filled with melted lead. The front of the
piers, turned towards the current of the Euphrates,
was defended by buttresses extremely advanced, which
diminished the weight and force of the water, by
cutting it at a great distance. Such was the bridge of
Babylon.
“ While we do justice to the skill of the Babylonians
in constructing these works, we cannot help remarking
the bad taste which at all times reigned in the works
of the eastern nations. The bridge of Babylon furnish¬
es a striking instance of it. This edifice was absolute¬
ly without grace, or any air of majesty. The breadth
of it was in no sort of proportion to its length. The
distance between the piers was also very ill contrived.
Ihey were distant from each other only n feet and a
half. Finally, this bridge was not arched. We may
judge of its effect on the view.
“ As for the quays which lined the Euphrates, we
may believe that they were grand and magnificent j
but I shall not easily believe that they surpassed those
which we have daily under our eyes. In this respect,
I believe Paris may dispute it for magnificence, and for
the extent of the work, with all the cities of the uni¬
verse.”
The ruins of this famous city have lately been de¬
scribed in detail by Mr Rich, British resident at Bag¬
dad. They are situated near a village called Hellab,
and consist of immense piles of bricks, partly decom¬
posed into earth, and partly entire, and scattered over
a great space on both sides of the Euphrates. See
Babylon, Supplement.
Babylon, a town of Egypt near the eastmost branch
of the river Nile, now supposed to be Grand Cairo,
or this city to stand near its ruins. E. Long. 31. 12.
N. Lat. 30. 5.
BABYLONIA, or Chaldea, a kingdom of Asia,
and the most ancient in the world, being founded by
Nimrod the grandson of Ham, who also, according to
the margin of our Bibles, founded Nineveh the capital
ot the kingdom of Assyria. Indeed, these two king¬
doms seem to have always continued in such a state of
friendship, that we can scarce help thinking they must
have been the same, or perhaps Babylonia vvas for some
time a province of Assyria. Nothing certain is known
f 299 ]
BAB
concerning either of them, except what may be ga- Babylonia.
thered from Scripture. From thence we learn, that in ' v——•
the days of Abraham there was a king of Shinar, call¬
ed Amraphel, who, under the king of Elam or Persia’,
made war- upon the Canaanites. From this time we
have nothing that can be depended upon till the days
of Nabonasser, the firfet king of Babylon mentioned in
Ptolemy’s canon. It is plain, indeed, both from Scrip¬
ture and profane history, that Babylonia subsisted as a
distinct kingdom from Assyria even when the latter
was in all its glory. The most probable account of
the matter is this: The empire of Assyria was found¬
ed by Pul, on the ruins ol that of Damascus or Syria,
in the days of Menahem king of Judah. This king
left two sons, Tiglath-Pileser, and Nabonasser. To the
former he bequeathed the empire of Assyria, and to the
latter that of Babylon. Tiglath-Pileser resided at Ni¬
neveh, the original seat of the Assyrian empire 5 while
Nabonasser, who was the younger brother, held his resi¬
dence at Babylon. As the two kingdoms were governed
by princes of the same family, we may well suppose a
perfect harmony to have reigned between them, the
younger branch at Babylon acknowledging a kind of
subjection to the elder at Nineveh. That the Babylo¬
nian empire was of Assyrian origin, we are assured by
the prophet Isaiah, in the following words : “ Behold
the land of the Chaldeans: this people was not till the
Assyrian founded it for them that dwelt in the wilder¬
ness : they set up the towers thereof j they built the
palace thereof.” As to the kingdom of Assyria, the
Scripture mentions only five kings, viz. Pul, Tiglath-
Pileser, Shalmanaser, Sennacherib, and Esar-haddon ;
whose history, as related by the sacred writers, it is
needless to mention particularly here. From the days of
Nabonasser to Nabopolasser, that is, from the year be¬
fore Christ 747 to 626, the kings of Babylon made no
figure, and were therefore probably in a state of depen¬
dence on the kings of Assyria 5 but at that time, in the
reign of Chyniladan, the Sardanapalus of the Greeks,
Nineveh was taken and destroyed by the Medes and
Babylonians, and the seat of the empire transferred to
Babylon. This Nabopolasser was the father of the fa¬
mous Nebuchadnezzar, for whose history we must i-efer
to the sacred writers ; and from his time to that of the
Belshwzxar of Daniel, and Nabonadius of other au¬
thors, the history of Babylon is little better than a mere
blank. Of the reduction of Babylon by Cyrus, which
happened at this time, we have the following account.
War had been begun betwixt the Medes, Persians,
and Babylonians, in the reign of Neriglissar the father
ot Nabonadius, which had been carried on with very
bad success on the side of the Babylonians. Cyrus, who
commanded the Median and Persian army, having sub¬
dued the several nations inhabiting the great continent
from the ./Egean sea to the Euphrates, bent his march
towards Babylon. Nabonadius, hearing of his march,
immediately advanced against him with an army. In
the engagement which ensued, the Babylonians were
defeated ; and the king, retreating to his metropolis,
was blocked up and closely besieged by Cyrus. The
reduction of this city was no easy enterprise. The
walls were of a prodigious height, the number of men
to defend them very great, and the place stored with
all sorts of provisions for 20 years. Cyrus, despairing
of being able to take such a city by storm, caused a line
P p 2 of
BAB L 300 ] B- A B
Ionia, of circumvallation to be drawn quite round it, with a
v—^ large and deep ditch reckoning that if all communi¬
cation with the country were cut off, the besieged
would be obliged to surrender through famine. That
his troops might not be too much fatigued, he divided
his army into twelve bodies, appointing each body its
month to guard the trenches j but the besieged, look¬
ing upon themselves to be out of all danger by reason
of their high walls and magazines, insulted him from
the ramparts, and looked upon all the trouble he gave
himself as so much unprofitable labour.
After Cyrus had spent two whole years before Ba¬
bylon, without making any progress in the siege, he at
last thought of the following stratagem, which put him
in possession of it. He was informed, that a great an¬
nual solemnity was to be held at Babylon j and that
the inhabitants on that occasion were accustomed to
spend the whole night in drinking and debauchery.
This he therefore thought a proper time for surprising
them ; and accordingly sent a strong detachment to
the head of the canal leading to the great lake, with
orders, at a certain time, to break down the great
bank which was between the lake and the canal, and
to turn the whole current into the lake. At the same
time he appointed one body of troops at the place
where the river entered the city, and another where it
came out; ordering them to march in by the bed of
the river as soon as they should find it fordable. To¬
wards the evening he opened the head of the trenches
on both sides the river above the city, that the water
might discharge itself into them ; by which means, and
the breaking down of the great dam, the river was
soon drained. Then the two above-mentioned bodies
ot troops, according to their orders, entered the chan¬
nel ; the one commanded by Gobryas and the other by
Gadates : and finding the gates all left open by reason
of the disorders of that riotous night, they penetrated
into the very heart of the city without opposition ; and
meeting, according to agreement, at the palace, they
surprised the guards, and cut them in pieces. Those
who were in the palace opening the gates to know the
cause of this confusion, the Persians rushed in, took the
palace, and killed the king, who came out to meet
them sword in hand. Thus an end was put to the Ba¬
bylonian empire j and Cyrus took possession of Baby¬
lon for one called in Scripture Darius the Mede, most
probably Cyaxares II. uncle to Cyrus. From this time
Babylonia never was elected into a distinct kingdom,
but hath always followed the fortune of those great
conquerors who at different times have appeared in A-
sia. It is now frequently the object of contention be¬
tween the Turks and Persians. See Assyria.
Concerning the nature of the country, manners, cu¬
stoms, &c. of the ancient Babylonians, the following
account is collected by M. Sabbathier.
“ As all the nations under the dominion of Cyrus,
beside the ordinary tributes, were obliged to maintain
him and his army, the monarch and his troops were
supported by all Asia. The country of Babylon alone
was obliged to maintain him four months of the year ;
its fertility, therefore, yielded a third of the produce
of Asia. The government of this country, which the
Persians termed satrapy, was richer and more exten¬
sive than any ol the rest. It maintained for the king,
beside the war-horses, a stud of 800 stallions, and
2
16,000 mares. So great a number of Indian dogs
were likewise bred in this province for the king, that
four of its cities kept those animals j and in return, they
were exempted from all taxes and tributes.
“ It rained very seldom in this country, according
to Herodotus. The earth was watered by the river,
which was here diffused by human industry, as the
Nile over Egypt by nature ; for all the country of
Babylon was divided by canals, the greatest of which
was navigable, and flowed from south to north, from
the Euphrates to the Tigris. In short, it was one of
the finest countries for corn in the world j but for pro¬
ducing trees, the fig-tree, the vine, and the olive, it
was not famous. It was so luxuriant in grain, that it
commonly yielded a hundred times more than what
was sown ; and in good years it yielded three hun¬
dred times more than it received. The leaves of its
wheat and barley were four inches broad. ‘ Though
I know',’ says Herodotus, ‘ that the millet and the se¬
same of that country grow to the size of trees, I will
not describe them particularly 5 lest those who have
not been in Babylonia should think my account fabu¬
lous.
“ They had no oil but what they made from Indian
corn. The country abounded with palm-trees, which
grew spontaneously 5 and most of them bore fruit, of
which the inhabitants made bread, wine, and honey.
They cultivated these trees and their fig-trees in the
same manner. Some of them, as of other trees, the
Greeks called male ones. They tied the fruit of the
male to the trees which bore dates 5 that the mosquito,
leaving the male, might cause the date to ripen, bv pe¬
netrating it for without that assistance it came not to
maturity. Mosquitos bred in the male palms as in the
wild fig-trees.
“ But we must not here omit to give an account of
the peculiar and surprising construction of their boats
of skins, in which they sailed along the river to Baby¬
lon. These boats were invented by the Armenians,
whose country lay north from Babylonia. They made
them with poles of willow, which they bent, and co¬
vered with skins 5 the bare side of the skins they put
outwards $ and they made them so tight, that they re¬
sembled boards. rlhe boats had neither prow nor
stern, but were of a round form like a buckler. They
put straw on the bottom. Two men, each with an
oar, rowed them down the river, laden with different
wares, but chiefly with palm wine. Of these boats
some were very large, and some very small. The lar¬
gest carried the weight of 500 talents. There was
room for an ass in one of their small boats j they put
many into a large one. When they had unloaded, af¬
ter their arrival at Babylon, they sold the poles of their
boats and the straw 5 and loading their asses with the
skins, returned to Armenia : for they could not sail up
the river, its current was so rapid. For this reason
they made their boats of skins, instead of wood j and
on their return to Armenia with their asses, they ap¬
plied the skins to their former use.
“ As to their dress, they wore a linen shirt, which
came down to their leet. Over it they wore a wool¬
len robe $ their outer garment was a white vest. Their
shoes resembled those of the Thebans. They let their
hair grow. On their heads they wore a turban. They
rubbed their bodies all over with fragrant liquors.
Each
BAB
[ 3°i ] B A C
B;ib\lonia. Each man had a ring on his finger, and an elegant cane
•J- in his hand, with an apple at the top, or a rose, a lily,
or an eagle or some other figure 5 for they were not
suffered to use canes without devices.
“ With regard to their policy, Herodotus thinks
that their best law was one which the Heneti, an Il¬
lyrian people, likewise observed in every town and vil¬
lage. When the girls were marriageable, they were or¬
dered to meet in a certain place, where the young men
likewise assembled. They were then sold by the public
crier : but he first sold the most beautiful one. When
he had sold her at an immense price, he put up others
to sale, according to their degrees of beauty. The rich
Babylonians were emulous to carry off tbe finest wo¬
men, who were sold to the highest bidders. But as the
young men who were poor could not aspire to have fine
women, they were content to take the ugliest with the
money which was given them: for when tbe crier had
sold the handsomest, he ordered the ugliest of all the
women to be brought ) and asked, if any one was will¬
ing to take her with a small sum of money. Thus she
became the wife of him who was most easily satisfied :
and thus the finest women were sold 5 and from the
money which they brought, small fortunes were given
to the ugliest, and to those who had any bodily in¬
firmity. A father could not marry his daughter as
he pleased j nor was he who bought her allowed to
take her home, without giving security that he would
marry her. But, after the sale, if the parties were
not agreeable to each other, the law enjoined that the
purchase-money should be restored. The inhabitants of
any of their towns were permitted to marry wives at
these auctions. Such were the early customs of the
Babylonians.
“But they afterwards made a law, which prohi¬
bited the inhabitants of different towns to intermarry,
and by which husbands were punished for treating their
wives ill. When they had become poor by the ruin of
their metropolis, fathers used to prostitute their daugh¬
ters for gain. There was a sensible custom among the
Babylonians, worthy to be related. They brought their
sick into the forum, to consult those who passed on their
diseases 3 for they had no physicians. They asked those
who approached the sick, if they ever had the same di¬
stemper P If they knew any one who had it ? and how
he was cured ? Hence, in this country, every one who
saw a sick person was obliged to go to* him and inquire
into his distemper.
“ I hey embalmed their dead with honey j and their
mourning was like that of the Egyptians.
“ There were three Babylonian tribes, who lived only
upon fish, and who prepared them in the following man¬
ner: they dried'them in the sun, and then beat them in
a mortar to a kind of flour, which after they had sifted
through linen, they baked it in roils.
“ The Babylonians at first worshipped only the sun
and the moon 3 but they soon multiplied their divini¬
ties. Ihey deified Baal, Bel, or Belus, one of their
kings, and Merodach-Baladan. They also worshipped
Venus, under the name of Mylitta. She and Belus
were the principal deities of the Babylonians. They
counted their day from sunrise to sunrise. They so¬
lemnized five days of tbe year with great magnificence,
and almost the same ceremonies with which the Ro-
niaus celebrated their Saturnalia.
“ I he Babylonians were very much addicted to ju¬
dicial astrology. Their priests, who openly professed
that art, were obliged to commit to writing all the
events of the lives of their illustrious men 3 and on a
fancied connection between those events and the mo¬
tions of the heavenly bodies, the principles of their
art were founded. They pretended that some of their
books, in which their historical transactions and re¬
volutions were accurately compared with the courses
of the stars, were thousands of years old. This as¬
sertion of their judicial astrologers we may reason¬
ably dispute 5 but that their astronomers bad made a
long series of observations, is incontestably true. It is
certain that some of those observations were extant in
the days of Aristotle, and that they were, older than
the empire of the Babylonians.” See History of
TRONOMY.
BABYLONIAN, Babylonius, is used in some
ancient writers for an astrologer, or any thing relating
to astrology. Hence Babylonia cur a, the art of cast¬
ing nativities 3 and numeri Babylonii, the computation
of astrologers.
BABYLONICA texta, a rich sort of weavings,
or hangings, denominated from the city Babylon,
where the practice of interweaving divers colours in
their hangings first obtained. Hence also Babylonic
garments, Babylonic skins, Babylonic carpets, hou¬
sings, &c. Babylonica soiana, coverings laid over
couches, &c. painted with gold, purple, and other co¬
lours.
BABYLONICS, Babylonica , in 'NaturalHistory,
a fragment of the ancient history of the world, ending
at 267 years before Christ 3 and composed by Berosus,
or Berossus, a priest of Babylon, about the time of
Alexander. The Babylonics are sometimes also cited
in ancient writers by the title of Chaldaics. They
were very consonant with Scripture, as Josephus and
the ancient Christian chronologers assure 3 whence the
author is usually supposed to have consulted the Jewish
writers. Ber osus speaks of an universal deluge, an ark,
&c. He reckons ten generations between the first
man and the deluge 3 and marks the duration of the
several generations by saroi, or periods of 223 lunar
months 3 which reduced to years, differ not much
from the chronology of Moses.—The Babylonics con¬
sisted of three books, including the history of the an¬
cient Babylonians, Medes, &c. But only a few im¬
perfect extracts are now remaining of the work 3 pre¬
served chiefly by Josephus and Syncellus, where all
the passages of citations of ancient authors out of Be¬
rosus are collected with great exactness. Annius of
Viterbo, to supply the loss, forged a complete Berosus
out of his own head. The world has not thanked him
for the imposture.
BABYROUSSA, in Zoology, a synonime of a spe¬
cies of sus. See Sus, Mammalia Index.
BAC, in Navigation, is used for a praam, or ferry¬
boat.
Bag, in Brewing, a large flat kind of tub, or ves¬
sel, wherein the wort is put to stand and cool be¬
fore boiling. The ingredients of beer pass through
three kinds of vessels. They are masked in one,
worked in another, and cooled in a third called bacs
or coolers.
Bag, in Distillery, vessels into which the liquor to .
Babylonia
11
Bae.
be
BAG r 302 ] BAG
Bac be fermented is pumped from the cooler, in order to be
I! worked with yeast.
cchana- BAC-Maker, is one who makes liquor-bacs, under-
' bacs, coolers, mash-tuns, working-tuns, &c. for the
brewers. The workmanship is partly carpentry, in a
particular manner, for it must be tight enough to hold
liquor ; and partly cooperage, viz. the mash-tun, or vat,
which is hooped. There are not many of this trade 5
and it requires chiefly strength, with a little art. A
small stock of stuff1, besides tools, will set a man up
tolerably well; but with 200I. or 300I. he will make a
good figure in business.
BACA, or Baza, a town of Spain in the king¬
dom of Granada. W. Long. 3. 6. N. Lat. 37. 18.
It is situated in a valley called Hoya de Baxa. It is
encompassed with old walls, and has a castle half
ruined. It contains about 4000 houses, but has no¬
thing remarkable except the church dedicated to the
Virgin Mary. The land about it is well cultivated
lor half a league round, and is fertile in wheat, wine,
honey, hemp, and flax, being watered by the little river
Guadalantin.
BACACUM, a town of the Nervii in Gallia Bel-
gica ; now Bavay, in Hainault. E. Long. 3. 30. N.
Lat. 50. 25.
BACAIM, a handsome sea-port town of the king¬
dom of Visapour, on the Malabar coast, in Asia. It is
subject to the Portuguese ; and stands in E. Long. 73.
10. N. Lat. 19. o.
BACASERAY, a town in the peninsula of Crim
Tartary, formerly considered as the capital of the coun¬
try, the khan having had his residence there. E. Long.
35. 10. N. Lat. 45. 30.
BACANTIBI, in ecclesiastical antiquity, wander¬
ing clerks, who strolled from church to church. The
word seems formed by corruption from vacantivi.
BACCA, Berry, in Botany, is used to signify such
fruits as consist of a pericarpium full of juice and seeds,
without any valves.
_ BACCALARIA, in middle-age writers, denotes a
kind of country-farms, consisting of several manses.
Baccalaria dominie aria, or indominicata, was more
particularly used for a farm belonging to the lord, and
kept in his own hands.
BACCARACH, a town of the Prussian states in
the duchy of the Lower Rhine, containing 1250 inha¬
bitants. It is famous for excellent wine ; and is si¬
tuated on the Rhine, in E. Long. 7. 3. N. Lat. 49
57-
B ACCHYE, in antiquity, the priestesses of Bacchus,
who celebrated the orgia or mysteries of that god. 
The word was also used for the ivy crowns or garlands
worn by the priests of Bacchus, in offering sacrifices to
him.
BACCHANALIA, feasts celebrated in honour of
Bacchus by the ancients. The two most remarkable
Were called the greater and lesser. The latter called
Lencea, from a word signifying a wine press, were held
m the open fields about autumn ; the greater, called
* Dionysia, from one of the names of Bacchus, were ce¬
lebrated in the city, about the spring-time. Both these
feasts were accompanied with games, spectacles, and
theatrical representations ; and it was at this time the
poets contended for the prize of poetry. Those who
were initiated into the celebration of these feasts, re- BaccW
presented, some Silenus, others Pan, others Satyrs, and lia '
in this manner appeared in public, night and day, coun- II
terfeiting drunkenness, dancing obscenely, and com- , Baccll»!
mitting all kinds of licentiousness and debauchery. See 'r'"
Bacchus.
BACCHARIS, Ploughman’s Spikenard. See
Botany Index.
BACCHI, in Mechanics, a kind of ancient ma¬
chines, in form of goats, used by Jupiter, in his wars
against the giants. Rudbeck describes two kinds of
bacchi, one made like the battering-ram, wherewith
Jupiter demolished the enemy’s fortifications ; the other
contrived to cast fire out of, from whence the Greeks
are conjectured to have framed their idea of the chi¬
mera.
BACCHIC, something relating to the ceremonies
of Bacchus. The celebrated intaglio, called Michael
Angelo’s ring, is a representation of a Bacchic feast.
Bacchic song, is sometimes used for a chanson a Loire,
or composition to inspire jollity. But in a more proper
sense it is restrained to a dithyrambic ode or hymn.
BACCHINI, Benedict, a Benedictine monk, and
one of the most learned men in his time, was born at
Borgo San Domino in 1651 ; and wrote a great num¬
ber of books in Latin and Italian, the most consider¬
able of which is a Literary Journal. He died at Bo¬
logna in 1721, aged 70.
BACCHIUS, a follower of Aristoxenus, supposed
by Fabricius to have been tutor to the emperor Marcus f 1
Antoninus, and consequently to have lived about A. C.
I4°‘ He wrote in Greek a very short introduction to
music, in dialogue, which, with a Latin translation
thereof, Meibomius has published. It seems it was
first published in the original by Mersennus, in his
Commentary on the first six chapters of Genesis j and
that afterwards he published a translation of it in
I rench, which Meibomius in the preface to his edition
of the ancient musical authors, censures as being gross¬
ly erroneous.
Bacchius, in ancient poetry, a kind of foot com¬
posed of a short syllable and two long ones ; as the
word [avarT], It takes its name from the god Bacchus,
because it frequently entered into the hymns composed
in his honour. The Romans called it likewise cenotrius,
tripodius, saltans.
BACCHUS, in Heathen Mythology, the god of
wine, with whose fabulous adventures every school-boy
is acquainted. This personage is seldom named in
modern times but as a sensual encourager of feast and
jollity ; but he was regarded in a more respectable light
by the ancients, who worshipped him in different coun¬
tries under the following appellations : in Egypt, he
was called Osiris; \n Mysia,, Fanaces; in India jDf-
onysius; Liber, throughout the Roman dominions } A-
doneus, in Arabia j and ~Pentheus, by the Lucanians.
Mythologists furnish reasons for all these different names
given to the same god, which may be seen in the second
volume of Banier’s Mythology.
It is natural to suppose that the Greeks and Romans,
as usual, bestowed upon the one Bacchus which they
worshipped, the several actions and attributes of the
many divinities known by that name, and by other
equivalent denominations, in different countries. How¬
ever,
Bacchus,
Bacchy-
lides.
BAG [ 3°3 ]
ever, antiquity chiefly distinguished two gods under the of Pindar.
History
Music,
29S.
•eq.
title of Bacchus; that of Egypt, the son of Ammon,
and the same as Osiris j and that of Thebes in Bceotia,
the son of Jupiter and Semele.
The Egyptian Bacchus was brought up at Nysa, a
city of Arabia Felix, whence he acquired the name of
Dionysius, or the god of Nysa 5 and this was the con ¬
queror of India. Though this Bacchus of the Egyp¬
tians was one of the elder gods of Egypt, yet the son
of Semele was the youngest of the Grecian deities.
Diodorus Siculus tells us, that Orpheus first deified the
son of Semele by the name of Bacchus, and appointed
his ceremonies in Greece, in order to render the family
of Cadmus, the grandfather of the Grecian Bacchus, il¬
lustrious.
The great Bacchus, according to Sir Isaac Newton,
flourished but one generation before the Argonautic
expedition. This Bacchus, says Hermippus, was po¬
tent at sea, conquered eastward as far as India, re¬
turned in triumph, brought his army over the Helle¬
spont, conquered Thrace, and left music, dancing, and
poetry there. And, according to Diodorus Siculus,
it was the son of Semele who invented farces and
theatres, and who first established a music school, ex¬
empting from all military functions such musicians as
discovered great abilities in their art; on which ac¬
count, says the same author, musicians formed into
companies have since frequently enjoyed great privi¬
leges.
Dr Burney* observes, that the dithyrambics which
gave birth to dramatic representations, are as ancient
as the worship of Bacchus in Greece; and there is
little doubt but that the ceremonies of his mysteries
gave rise to the pomp and illusions of the theatre. Many
of the most splendid exhibitions upon the stage for the
entertainment of the people of Athens and Borne, be-
ing performed upon the festivals of Bacchus, gave oc¬
casion to the calling all those that were employed in
them, whether for singing, dancing, or reciting, ser¬
vants of Bacchus.
Paussnias, in his Attics, speaks of a place at Athens
consecrated to Bacchus the singer ; thus named, he says,
for the same reason as Apollo is called the chief and con¬
ductor of the muses. Whence it should seem that Bac¬
chus was regarded by the Athenians not only as the
god of wine, but of song ; and it must be owned, that
his followers, in their cups, have been much inclined
to singing ever since. Indeed we are certain, that in
none of the orgies, processions, triumphs, and festivals,
instituted by the ancients to the honour and memory of
this prince of hons means, music was forgotten, as may
be still gathered from ancient sculpture, where we find
not only that musicians, male and female, regaled him
with the lyre, the flute, and with song; but that he
was accompanied by fawns and satyrs playing upon tim¬
brels, cymbals, bagpipes, and horns; these Suidas calls
his minstrels ; and Strabo gives them the appellations
of Bacchi, Silent, Satyri, Bacchce, Lenee, Thy<r, Mamil-
lones, Naiades, Nymphce, and Tityri. These represen¬
tations have furnished subjecfs for the finest remains of
ancient sculpture ; and the most voluptuous passages of
ancient poetry are descriptions of the orgies and festi¬
vals of Bacchus. See Orgia.
BACCHYLIDES, a famous Greek poet, was the
nephew of Simonides, and the cotemporary and rival
Bachelor.
BAG
, B°tIi1 SU,n« the victories of Hiero at the Baochyiides
public games. Besides odes to athletic victors, he was ll
author of Love Verses; Prosodies; Dithyrambics,
Hymns ; Paeans ; Hyporchemes ; Parthenia, or songs
to be sung by a chorus of virgins at festivals. The
chronology of Eusebius places the birth of Bacchvlides
in the 82d Olympiad, about 450 B. C.
BACCIO, or Baccius, Andrew, a celebrated phy¬
sician of the 16th century, born at St Elpideo. He
practised physic at Rome with great reputation, and was
first physician to Pope Sixtus V. The most scarce and
valuable of his works are, 1. De Thermis. 2. De Na-
ttirah Vinorum Historia. 3. De Venenis et Antidotis.
4. De Gemmis ac Lapidihus Pretiosis.
Baccio, Fra. Bartolomeo, called Bartelemi di S.
Marco, a celebrated painter of history and portrait,
was born at Savignano near Florence in 1469, and
was a disciple of Cosumo Roselli ; but his principal
knowledge in the art of painting was derived from
Leonardo da \'inci. He understood the true principles
of design better than most masters of his time, and
was also a considerable painter in perspective ; which
induced Raphael to have recourse to him after he had
quitted the school of Perugino ; and under his direc¬
tion likewise Raphael studied the art of managing and
uniting colours, as well as the rules of perspective.
Some years after the departure of Raphael from Flo¬
rence, Baccio visited Rome ; and by the observations
he made on the antiques, and the works of Raphael
which were then the admiration of the whole world,
he was extremely improved, and manifested his ac¬
quired abilities by a picture of S. Sebastian, which be
finished at his return to Florence. It was so well
designed, so naturally and beautifully coloured, and
had so strong an expression of pain and agony, that
it was removed from the place where it was pub¬
licly seen (in the chapel of a convent), as it had
been observed to have made too strong an impression on
the imaginations of many women who beheld it. He
Was very laborious, and made nature his perpetual stu¬
dy ; he designed the naked correctly ; his figures had a
great deal of grace, and his colouring was admirable.
He is accounted to have been the first inventor of that
machine called a layman by the artists, and which to
this day is in general use. Upon that he placed his dra¬
peries, to observe with greater exactness their natural
and their more elegant folds. A capital picture of the
ascension by Baccio, is in the Florentine collection.
He died in 1517.
BACHELOR, or Batchelor, a common term
for a man not married, or who is yet in a state of celi¬
bacy.—The Roman censors frequently imposed fines on
old bachelors. Dion Halicarnasseus mentions an old
constitution, by which all persons of full age were ob¬
liged to marry. But the most celebrated law of this
kind, was that made under Augustus, called the Lex
Julia de Maritandis Ordinibus; by which bachelors
were made incapable of legacies or inheritances by will,
unless from their near relations. This brought many
to marry, according to Plutarch’s observation, not so
much for the sake of raising heirs to their own estates,
as to make themselves capable of inheriting those of
other men.—The rabbins maintain, that, by the laws
of Moses, every body, except some few particulars, is.
obliged in conscience to marry at 20 years of age: this .
makes
BAG [ 304 ] BAG
Bachelor, makes one of their 613 precepts. Hence those maxims
Badidors. so frequent among their casuists, that he who does not
y—-—> take the necessary measures to leave heirs behind him,
is not a man, but ought to be reputed a homicide.—
Lycurgus was not more favourable j by his laws,
bachelors are branded with infamy, excluded from all
offices civil and military, and even from the shows and
public sports. At certain feasts they were forced to
appear, to be exposed to the public derision, and led
round the market place. At one of their feasts, the
women led them in this condition to the altars, where
they obliged them to make amende honourable to nature,
accompanied with a number of blows and lashes with
a rod at discretion. To complete the affront, they forced
them to sing certain songs composed in their own deri¬
sion. The Christian religion is more indulgent to the
bachelor state: the ancient church recommended it as in
some circumstances preferable to, and more perfect than,
the matrimonial. In the canon law, we find injunctions
on bachelors, when arrived at puberty, either to marry
or to turn monks and profess chastity in earnest.—In
England, there was a tax on bachelors, after 25 years
o! age, 12I. 1 os. for a duke, a common person is. by
7 Will. III. 1695. In Britain, at present, they are
taxed by an extra-duty on their servants. Every man
ol the age of 21 years and upwards, never having been
married, who shall keep one male servant or more, shall
pay il. 5s. for each above or in addition to the ordi¬
nary duties leviable for Servants. Every man of the
age of 21 years and upwards, never having been mar¬
ried, keeping one female servant, shall pay 2s. 6d. in
addition to the former 2s 6d.; 5s. in addition for each,
if he has two female servants ; and 10s. in addition for
each for three or more female servants.
Bachelor, was anciently a denomination given to
those who had attained to knighthood, but had not a
number of vassals sufficient to have their banner carried
before them in the field of battle j or if they were not
of the order of bannirets, were not of age to display
their own banner, but obliged to march to battle under
another’s banner. It was also a title given to young
cavaliers, who having made their first campaign, re¬
ceived the military girdle accordingly. And it served
to denominate him who had overcome another in a
tournament the first time he ever engaged.—The word
bachelor, in a military sense, is derived by Cujas from
buccelanus, a kind of cavalry, anciently in great esteem.
Hu Cange deduces it from baccalaria, a kind of fees
or farms, consisting of several pieces of ground, each
whereof contained 12 acres, or as much as two oxen
would plough ; the possessors of which baccalaria were
called bachelors. Caseneuve and Altaserra derive ba¬
chelor from bacillus, or bacillus, “ a staff,” because the
young cavaliers exercised themselves in fighting with
staves. Martinius derives it from baccalaureus, i. e.
bacca laurea donatus, in allusion to the ancient custom
of crowning poets with laurel, baccis lauri, as was the
case with Petrarcli at Rome in 1341. Alciat and
Vives are of the same opinion: nor is this etymology
improbable.
Knights-BACHELORS, the most ancient, but the lowest
orders of knights in England j known by the name of
knights only. They are styled knights-bachelors, either
(according to some) as denoting their degree, quasi bas
chevaliers ; or, according to others, because this title
does not descend to their posterity.
The custom of the ancient Germans was to give
their young men a shield and a lance in the great coun¬
cil : this was equivalent to the toga virilis of the Ro¬
mans. Before this, they were not permitted to bear
arms, but were accounted as part of the father’s house¬
hold ; after it, as part of the public. Hence some de¬
rive the usage of knighting, which has prevailed all
over the western world, since its reduction by colonies
from those northern heroes. Knights are called in La¬
tin equites aurati; aurati, from the gilt spurs they
worej and equites, because they always served on horse¬
back ; for it is observable, that almost all nations call
their knights by some appellation derived from a
horse. They are also called in our law milites, because
they formed a part, or indeed the whole, of the royal
army, in virtue of their feudal tenures; one condition
of which was, that every one who held a knight’s fee
(which in Henry II.’s time amounted to 2cl. per an¬
num) wras obliged to be knighted, and attend the king
in his wars, or pay a fine for his non-compliance. The
exertion of this prerogative, as an expedient to raise
money in the reign of Charles I. gave great offence,
though warranted by law and the recent example of
Queen Elizabeth. At the Restoration, it vfas, toge¬
ther with all other military branches of the feudal
law, abolished j and it now only exists as an honorary
title } though, on account of its indiscriminate attain¬
ment, not very generally regarded. It is conferred
indiscriminately upon gownsmen, burghers, and physi¬
cians, by the king’s lightly touching the person, who
is then kneeling, on the right shoulder with a drawn
sword, and saying Bise, Sir. See the articles Knight
and Nobility.
Bachelors, in a university sense, are persons that
have attained to the baccalaureate, or who have taken
the first degree in the liberal arts and sciences.
The degree of bachelor was first introduced in the
13th century by Pope Gregory IX. but it remains still
unknown in Italy. At Oxford, before a person is en¬
titled to the degree of bachelor of arts, he must have
studied there four years j three years more to become
master of arts ; and seven more to commence bachelor
of divinity.—At Cambridge, t© commence bachelor
ot arts, he must have been admitted near four years ;
and above three years more before he commence master;
and seven more still to become bachelor of divinity.
He may commence bachelor of law after having studied
it six years.—At Paris, to pass bachelor in theology,
a person must have studied two years in philosophy
and three years in theology, and held two acts of ex¬
amination in the Sorbonne.—Bachelors in the canon
law are admitted after two years study in the same, and
sustaining an act according to the forms. A bachelor
ot physic must have studied two years in medicine, after
having been four years master of arts in the university,
and have stood an examination; after which he is in¬
vested with the fur, in order to be licensed.—In the
university of Paris, before the foundation of divinity-
professorships, those who had studied divinity six years
were admitted to go through their course, whence
they were called baccalani cursores ; and as there were
two courses, the first employed in explaining the Bible
during
BAG
Back.
Bachelors during three successive years, the second for explain¬
ing the master of the sentences for one year, those who
^ were in their Bible-course were called baccalarii Bib-
mmJ ltd, and those arrived at the sentences baccalarii scn-
tentiarii. And, lastly, those who had gone through
both were denominated baccalarii formati, or formed
bachelors.
At present, formed bachelor denotes a person who
has taken the degree regularly after the due course of
study and exercises required by the statutes 5 by way of
opposition to a current bachelor, who is admitted in the
way of grace, or by diploma.
We also find mention of bachelors of the church,
baccalarii ecclesice. *1 he bishop with his canons and
baccalarn, cum consi/io et consensu omnium canonico-
rum suorvm et baccalariorum.
Bachelors, in the livery companies of London,
are those not yet admitted to the livery. These com¬
panies generally consist of a master, two wardens, the
livery, and the bachelors, who are yet but in expecta¬
tion of dignity in the company, and have their function
only in attendance on the master and wardens. They
are also called yeomen.
Bachelor is also a name given in the six companies
of mei chants at Paris to the elders, and such as, having
served the offices, have a right to he called by the ma¬
sters and wardens to be present with them, and assist
them in some of the functions, particularly in what re¬
lates to the chef-d^ccuvres or masterpieces of such as
are candidates for being admitted masters.
BACHTAN, one of the Molucca islands, belonging
to the Dutch ; situated under the equator, in E. Long.
125 . It is the largest ol all the small Molucca islands,
being 54 miles long, and 20 broad. It produces gold
dust and sago, besides the usual tropical fruits. The
inhabitants are Malay Mahometans, and are governed
by a chief who was once very powerful.
BACHU, a city of Shirvan in Persia, and the best
haven in the Caspian sea. It is defended by a double
wall, as also by a ditch and redoubts, made by the Rus¬
sians when they were masters of the place. It had a
sumptuous castle, but it is reduced to a ruinous state
by the Russians. Formerly many merchants resided
here, and carried on a considerable traffic in raw silk ;
but that commerce is now given up. All the coun¬
try round is much impregnated with sulphur, which
renders the water very unpleasant. The neighbour¬
hood of this city supplies the countries adjacent with
naphtha, brimstone, and rock-salt j and is the only
place thereabouts which produces saffron. Round
Bachu are several very steep craggy mountains, on
which are strong watch-towers. E. Long. 49. 5. N.
Lat. 40. o.
BACK, BACK-Bone, or Spine. See Anatomy
Index.
Back, in the manege, and among farriers. A
horse’s back should be straight, not hollow, which is
called saddle-backed: horses of this kind are generally
light, and carry their heads high, but want in strength
and service. A horse with a weak back is apt to
Vol. HI. part I. ^ +
f 305 ]
B A C
stumble. In the French riding-schools, to mount a
horse a dos, is to mount him bare-backed, without a
saddle.
Back-Gammon, an ingenious game played with dice,
upon a table, by two persons.
. Manner of playing the game. The table is divided
into two parts, upon which there are 24 black and
white spaces, called points. E&ch adversary has 1 y
men, black and white, to distinguish them j and they
are disposed of in the following manner: Supposing
the game to be played in the right-hand table, two
are placed upon the ace-point in the adversary’s table,
five upon the six point in the opposite table, three up¬
on the cinque point in the hithermost table, and five
on the six point in the right-hand table. The grand
object in this game is for each player to bring the men
round into his right-hand table, by throwing with a
pair of dice those throws that contribute towards it,
and at the same time prevent the adversary doino- the
like. The first best throw upon the dice is esteemed
aces, because it stops the six point in the outer table,
and secures the cinque in the thrower’s table j whereby
the adversary’s two men upon the thrower’s ace point
cannot get out with either quatre, cinque, or six. This
throw is an advantage often given to the antagonist by
the superior player.
When he carries his men home in order to lose no
point, he is to carry the most distant man to his adver¬
sary’s bar point, that being the first stage he is to place
it on j the next stage is six points farther, viz. in the
place where the adversary’s five men are first placed out
of his tables. He must go on in this method till all his
men are brought home, except two, when by losing a
point, he may often save the gammon, by throwing two
fours or two fives.
When a hit is only played for, he should endeavour
to gain either his own or adversary’s cinque point; and
if that fails by his being hit by the adversary, and
he finds him forwarder than himself, in that case he
must throw more men into the adversary’s tables ;
which is done in this manner: He must put a man
upon his cinque or bar point; and if the adversary ne¬
glects to hit it, he may then gain a forward game in¬
stead of a back game ; but if the adversary hits him,
he should play for a back game; and then the greater
number of men which are taken up makes his game
the better, because by these means he will preserve his
game at home : and then he should endeavour to gain
both his adversary’s ace and trois points, or his ace
and deuce points, and take care to keep three men
upon the adversary’s ace point, that in case he hits
him from thence, that point may remain still secure to
himself.
_ A back game should not be played for at the begin¬
ning of a set, because it would be a great disadvantage,
the player running the risk of a gammon to win a single
hit.
Buies for playing at setting out all the throws on the
dice, when the player is to play for a gammon or for a
single hit (a), i. Two aces are to be played on the
Q q cinque
Back,
Back-
gammoiu
(a) Ibe rules marked thus t are for a gammon only; those marked thus * are for a hit only*
B ' A C
tinqne point and bar point, for _ 0     
hit. 2. Two sixes, to be played on the adversary’s
bar point and on the thrower’s bar point, for a gam¬
mon or for a hit. 3. f Two trois, to be played on
the cinque point, and the other two on the trois point
in his own tables, for a gammon only. 4. f Two
deuces, to be played on the quatre point in his own
tables, and two to be brought over from the five men
placed in the adversary’s tables for a gammon only.
5. T Two fours, to be brought over from the five men
placed in the adversary’s table, and to be put upon
the cinque point in his own tables for a gammon only.
6. Two fives, to be brought over from the five men
placed in the adversary’s tables, and to be put on the
trois point in his own tables, for a gammon or for a
hit. 7. Size ace, he must take his bar point for a
gammon or for a hit. 8. Size deuce, a man to be
brought from the five men placed in the adversary’s
tables, and to be placed in the cinque point in his own
tables, for a gammon or for a hit. 9. Six and three,
a man to be brought from the adversary’s ace point, as
far as he will go, for a gammon or for a hit. 10. Six
and four, a man to be brought from the adversary’s
ace point, as far as he will go, for a gammon or for a
hit. 11. Six and five, a man to be carried from the
adversary’s ace point, as far as he can go, for a gam¬
mon or for a hit. 12. Cinque and quatre, a man to
be carried from the adversary’s ace point, as far as he
can go, for a gammon or for a hit. 13. Cinque trois,
to make the trois point in his table, for a gammon or
for a hit. 14. Cinque deuce, to play two men from
the five placed in the adversary’s tables, for a gammon
or for a hit. 15. f Cinque ace, to bring one man from
the five placed in the adversary’s tables for the cinque,
and to play one man down on the cinque point in his
own tables for the ace, for a gammon onlv. 16. Quatre
trois, two men to be brought from the five placed in
the adversary’s tables, for a gammon or for a hit. 17.
Quatre deuce, to make the quatre point in his own
tables, for a gammon or for a hit. 18. f Quatre ace,
to play a man from the five placed in the adversary’s
tables for the quatre j and for the ace, to play a man
down upon the cinque point in his own tables, for a
gammon only. 19. + Trois deuce, two men to be
brought from the five placed in the adversary’s tables,
for a gammon only. 20. Trois ace, to make the cinque
point in his own tables, for a gammon or for a hit. 21.
f Deuce ace, to play one man from the five men placed
in the adversary’s table for the deuce j and for the ace
to play a man down upon the cinque point in his own
tables, for a gammon only. 22. * Two trois, two of
them to be played on the cinque point in his own
tables, and with the other two he is to take the quatre
point in the adversary’s tables. 23. * Two deuces, two
of them are to be played on the quatre point in his own,
tables, and with the other two he is to take the trois
point in the adversary’s tables. By playing these two
cases in this manner, the player avoids being shut up in
the adversary’s tables, and has the chance of throwing
out the tables to win the hit.
24. * Two fours, two of them are to take the ad¬
versary’s cinque point in the adversary’s tables, and for
the other two, two men are to be brought from the
five placed in the adversary’s tables. 25. * Cinque ace,
. 3
[ 306 ] BAG
a gammon or for a the cinque should be played from the five men placed
in the adversary’s tables, and the ace from the adver¬
sary’s ace point. 26. * Quatre ace, the quatre to be
played from the five men placed in the adversary’s ace
point. 27. * Deuce ace, the deuce to be played from
the five men placed in the adversary’s tables, and the
ace from the adversary’s ace point.
The three last chances are played in this manner j
because an ace being laid down in the adversary's tables,
there is a probability of throwing deuce ace, trois
deuce, quatre trois, or size cinque, in two or three
throws ; either ol which throws secures a point, and
gives the player the best of the hit.
Cautions, Sfc. The player must understand by the
directions given to play for a gammon, that he is to
make some blots on purpose, the odds being in his fa¬
vour that they are not hit: but if it should happen that
any blot is hit, as in this case there will be three men
in the adversary’s tables, he must then endeavour to
secure the adversary’s cinque, quatre, or trois point, to
prevent a gammon, and must be very cautious of his
fourth man’s not being taken up.
He must not crowd his game at any time if he can
help it j that is to say, he should not put many men
either upon the trois or deuce points in his own tables,
being the same as losing those men, not havihg them
in play. Besides, by crowding the game, and attempt¬
ing to save a gammon, the player is often gammoned.
His game being crowded in his own tables, the adver¬
sary has room to play as he thinks proper.
The following calculations will show the odds of en¬
tering a single man upon any certain number of points ;
and accordingly the game should be played.
It is necessary to know that there are thirty-six
chances upon two dice, and the points that are upon
these thirty-six chances are as follow:
Viz.
2 Aces
2 Deuces
2 Trois
2 Fours
2 Fives
2 Sixes
6 And 5 twice
6 And 4 twice
6 And 3 twice
6 And 2 twice
6 And
5 Ami
5 And
5 And
5 And
twice
twice
twice
twice
twice
4 And 3 twice
4 And 2 twice
4 And
3 And
3 And
2 And
1 twice
2 twice
1 twice
1 twice
Points.
4
8
12
16
20
24
22
20
l8
16
H
18
l6
*4
12
14
12
10
10
8
6
Divide by 36)294(8
and it proves, that upon an ave- 288
rage the player has a right to   
8 points each throw - 5
Back¬
gammon.
The
Back¬
gammon.
BAG
The chances upon two dice calculated
gammon are as follow :
2 Sixes
C 307
for back-
2 Fives
2 Fours
2 Trois
2 Deuces
' 2 Aces
6 And 5 twice
6 And 4 twice
6 And 3 twice
6 And 2 twice
6 And 1 twice
5 And 4 twice
_ And
5 And
5 And
4 And
4 And
4 And
twice
twice
twice
twice
twice
twice
3 And 2 twice
3 And 1 twice
2 And 1 twice
I
1
I
1
I
1
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
36
As it may seem difficult to find out by this table of
thirty-six chances what are the odds of being hit upon
a certain or flat die, let the following method be pur¬
sued.
The player may observe in the table that what are
thus + marked are,
f 2 Aces
f 6 And
f 5 And
f 4 And
f 3 And
f 2 And
twice
twice
twice
twice
twice
When deducted from
Total, 11
-
25
There remains
So that it appears it is twenty-five to eleven against
hitting an ace upon a certain or flat die.
fhe above method holds good with respect
other flat die. For example what are the odds
tering a man upon 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 points P
Answer.
to any
of en-
To enter it upon
1 point is
2 points
3
4
5
for against
II to 25
20-l6
27 - 9.
32 - 4
35 - 1
The follow! ng table shows
any chance, in the reach of a single die.
for ag.
Or about - 4 to 9
5 4
3 1
8 1
35 .i.
the odds ot hitting with
To bit upon
1 is
2
3
4
5
6
for against
II to 25
Or about
12
I4
*5
*5
*7
24
22
21
21
r9
for ag.
4 to 9
I - 2
3
7
7
94
2 -
5 -
5 -
St
] BAG
The odds of hitting with double dice are as follow :
To hit upon for against
7 is - 6 to 30 Or about
8
9
10
11
12
30
S'
33
34
36
for ag.
I to 5s
5
11
J7
35
How to find out the odds of being hit upon a six, by
the table of thirty-six chances.
2 Sixes
2 Trois
2 Deuces
6 And 5 twice
6 And 4 twice
6 And 3 twice
2
6 And
6 And
5 And
4 And
twice
twice
twice
twice
Which deducted from
*7
19
There remains - - .
By which it appears to be 19 to 17 against being hit
upon a six.
The odds on the hits.
2 Love is about - - 5 to 2
2 to I IS • m . 2 1
I Love is - - _ 32
Directions for the player to bear his men. If a player
has taken up two of the adversary’s men, and happens
to have two, three, or more points made in his own
tables, he should spread his men, that he either may
take a new point in his tables, or be ready to hit the
man which the adversary may happen to enter. If
lie finds upon the adversary’s entering, that the game
is upon a par, or that the advantage is on his own side,
he should take the adversary’s man up whenever he
can, it being 25 to H that he is not hit: except when
lie is playing for a single hit only; then, if playing the
throw otherwise gives him a better chance for it, he
ought to do it.
It being five to one against his being hit with double
dice, he should never be deterred from taking up any
one man of the adversary’s.
If he has taken up one of the adversary’s men, and
should happen to have five points in his own tables, and
forced to leave a blot out of his tables, he should en¬
deavour to leave it upon doublets preferable to any
other chance, because in that case the odds are 35 to
one that he is not hit; whereas it is only 17 to one but
he is hit upon any other chance.
When the adversary is very forward, a player should
never move a man from his own quarter, trois, or
deuce points, thinking to bear that man from the point
where he put it, as nothing but high doublets can give
him any chance for the hit. Instead of playing an
ace or a deuce from any of those points, he should plav
them from his own size or highest points, so that
throwing two fives, or two fours, his size and cinque
points being eased, would be a considerable advantage
Q q 3 to
Back¬
gammon.
BAG [308
to him ; whereas, had they been loaded, he must have
been obliged to play otherwise.
It is the interest of the adversary to take up the
player as soon as he enters. The blot should be left
upon the adversary’s lowest point j that is to say, upon
his deuce point rather than upon his trois point j
or upon his trois point rather than his quatre point,
or upon his quatre point preferable to his cinque point,
for a reason before mentioned 5 all the men the adver¬
sary plays upon his trois or his deuce points are deem¬
ed lost, being greatly out of play ; so that those men
not having it in their power to make his cinque point,
and his game being crowded in one place, and open in
another, the adversary must be greatly annoyed by the
player.
If the player has two of the adversary’s men in his
tables, he has a better chance for a hit than if he had
more, provided his game is forwarder than that of his
antagonist; for if he had three or more of the adver¬
sary’s men in his tables, he would stand a worse chance
to be hit.
When a player is running to save the gammon, if
he should have two men upon his ace point, and several
men abroad, although he should lose one point or two
in putting his men into his tables, it is his interest to
leave a man upon the adversary’s ace point, because it
will prevent his adversary from bearing his men to the
greatest advantage, and at the same time the player
will have a chance of the adversary’s making a blot,
which he may chance to hit. However, if a player
finds upon a throw, that he has a probability of saving
his gammon, he should never wait for a blot, as the
odds are greatly against his hitting it, but should em¬
brace that opportunity.
Ho w to calculate the odds of saving or winning the
gammon. Suppose the adversary has so many men
abroad as require three throws to put them into his
tables, and at the same time that the player’s tables
are made up, and that he has taken up one of the adver¬
sary’s men ; in this case, it is about an equal wager that
the adversary is gammoned. For in all probability the
player has bore two men before he opens his tables, and
when he bears the third man, he will be obliged to open
his size or cinque point. It is then probable that the
adversary is obliged to throw twice before he enters his
men in the player’s tables, twice more before he puts
that man into his own tables and three throws more
to put the men which are abroad into his own tables j
ia all seven throws. Now the player having 12 men
to bear, he may be forced to make an ace or a deuce
twice before he can bear all his men, and consequently
will require seven throws in bearing them j so that, up¬
on the whole, it is about equal whether the adversary
is gammoned or not.
Suppose a player has three men upon his adversary’s
ace point and five points in his own tables, and that the
] B A
Carried forwards
From his 4th point
From his 3d point
From his 2d point
Bringing his three men from the adversary’s
ace point to his size point in his own ta¬
bles, being 18 points each, and making
together
33
12
6
9
In all 60
54
two dice being in all
The chances to hit 8 or 6 and 2 twice
5 and 3 twice
2 Deuces
3 Fours
The chances to hit 9 or 6 and 3 twice
5 and 4 twice
2 Trois
There must remain - - 6
It is plain from this calculation, that the player has
much the best of the probability of the gammon, ex¬
clusive of one or more blots which the adversary is li¬
able to make in bearing his men, supposing at the same
time the throws to be upon an equality.
Suppose two blots are left, either of which cannot be
hit but by double dice ; one must be hit by throwing
eight and the other by throwing nine } so that the ad¬
versary has only one die to hit either of them. What
are the odds of hitting either of them P The chances of
35
2
, /' 2
I
1
2
2
- - - I
For hitting in all - - n
Chances for not hitting, remain - 2J
So that the odds are 25 to n against hitting
either of these blots.
This method may be taken to find out the odds of
hitting three, four, or five blots upon double dice } or
blots made upon double and single dice at the same
time. After knowing how many chances there are to
hit any of these blots, they must be added all to¬
gether, and then subtracted from the number 36,
which are the chances of the two dice, and the question
is solved.
A critical case for a Back-game. Suppose the fore¬
game to be played by A, and that all his men are
placed as usual; B has fourteen of his men placed
upon his adversary’s ace point, and one man upon his
adversary’s deuce point, and B is to throw. Who has
the best of the hit ?—Answer : A has the best of it,
gold to silver: because, if B does not throw an ace to
take his adversary’s deuce point, which is 25 to 11
against him, A will take up B’s men in his tables, ei¬
ther singly or to make points j and then if B secures
either A’s deuce
or trois point, A will put as many
, . . men down as possible, in order to hit, and thereby get
adversary has all his.men in his tables, three upon each a back-game. It is evident that the back-game is very
Has the player a probability powerful j consequently, whoever practises it must be-
of his five highest points,
of gammoning his adversary or not ?
For bearing three men from his 6th
point is -
From the 5th point
Points,
18
*S
33
come a greater proficient at the game than he could by
any other means.
Another critical case. Suppose A to have five men
placed upon his size point, as many upon his quatre
point, and the same number upon his deuce point, all
in his own tables. At the same time, let us suppose
B to have three men placed upon A’s ace point, as
many
■Back¬
gammon.
BAG
Back-
gammon
[ i
many upon A’s trois point, and the same number upon
A’s cinque point, in his own tables, and three men
J placed as usual out ol‘ his tables. Who has the best of
the hit ?—Answer: The game is equal till B has gain¬
ed his cinque and quatre points in his own tables ;
which if he can effect, and by playing two men from
A’s cinque point, in order to force his adversary to blot
by throwing an ace, which should B hit, he will have
the best of the hit.
case of curiosity and instruction : in which is shown
the probability of making the hit last by one of the
players for many hours, although they shall both play
as fast as usual. Suppose B to have bore 13 men, and
that A has his fifteen men in B’s tables, viz. three
men upon his size point, as many upon his cinque point,
three upon his quatre point, the same number upon his
[ 309 ]
BAG
trois point, two upon his deuce point, and one upon
his ace point. A in this situation can prolong it, as
aforesaid by bringing his 15 men home, always secu¬
ring six close points till B has entered his two men,
and brought them upon any certain point; as soon as
B nas gained that point, A will open an ace, deuce,
or trois point, or all of them ; which done, B hits one
cl them, and A taking care to have two or three men
in B’s tables, is ready to hit that man j and also he
being certain of taking up the other man, has it in his
power to prolong the hit almost to any length, provided
he takes care not to open such points as two fours, two
fives, or two sixes, but always to open the ace, deuce,
or trois points, for B to hit him.
A critical game to play. Suppose A and B place
their men fora hit in the following manner : A to have
three men upon the size point in his own tables, three
men out of his tables upon the usual point, and nine
men upon his adversary’s ace, deuce, and trois points :
that is,, three upon each : and suppose B’s men to b&
placed in his own and his adversary’s tables in the same
order. So situated, the best player should win the hit.
The game being so equal, that in this case the dice
should be thrown for. Now if A throws first, he should
endeavour to gain his adversary’s cinque point: this
being done, he should lay as many blots as possible, to
tempt B to hit him, as it puts him backwards, and A
thereby gains an advantage. A should always en¬
deavour to have three men upon each of his adversary’s
ace and deuce points j because when B makes a blot,
these points will remain secure, and when A has bore
five, six, or more men, A yet may secure six close
points out of his tables, in order to prevent B from
getting his man home, at which time he should calcu¬
late who has the best of the hit. If he finds that B is
foremost, he should then try to lay such blots as may
be taken up by his adversary, that he may have a chance
of taking up another man, in case B should happen to
have a blot at home.
Laws of Back-gammon. 1. If a man is taken from
«my point, it must be played j if two men are taken
from it, they also must be played. 2. A man is not
supposed to be played till it is placed upon a point and
quitted. 3. If a player has only fourteen men in play,
there is no penalty inflicted, because by his playing
with a lesser number than he is entitled to, he plays to
a disadvantage for want of the deficient man to make
•'p his tables. 4. If he bears any number of men be-
2
fore he has entered a man taken up, and which of
course he was obliged to enter, such men so borne must gammon,
be entered again in the adversary’s tables as well as the Back- ’
man taken up. 3. If he has mistaken his throw and , Paint!»g*
played it, and his adversary has thrown, it is not in
the choice of either of the players to alter it, unless
they both agree so to do.
Back-Painting, the method of painting mezzotinto
prints, pasted on glass, with oil colours. See Mezzo-
TINTO.
I he art consists chiefly in laying the print upon a
piece of crown-glass, of such a size as fits the print.
In order to do this, take your print, and lay it in
clean water for two days and two nights, if the print
be on very strong, close, and hard gummed paper:
but if upon an open, soft, spongy paper, two hours
will sometimes suffice, or more, according as the paper
is.
The paper or picture having been sufficiently soaked,
take it out and lay it upon two sheets of paper, and
cover it with two more ; and let it lie there a little to
suck out the moisture.
In the mean time take the glass the picture is to be
put upon, and set it near the fire to warm ; take Stras-
burg turpentine, warm it over the fire till it is grown
fluid, then with a hog’s hair brush spread the turpen¬
tine very smoothly and evenly on the glass.
When this has been done, take the mezzotinto print
from between the papers, and lay it upon the glass $
beginning first at one end, rubbing it down gently as
you go on, till it lie close, and there be no wind blad¬
ders between.
Then, with your fingers, rub or roll off the paper
from the backside of the print, till it looks black, i. e.
till you can see nothing but the print like a thin film
left upon the glass, and set it by to dry*
When it is dry, varnish it over with some white
transparent varnish, that the print may be seen through
it ; and then it is fit for painting.
The utmost care will be necessary in rubbing or roll¬
ing the paper off’ the print, so as not to tear it, especial¬
ly in the light parts.
You may, instead of soaking your prints two days
and two nights, roll them up and boil them for about
two hours, more or less, according to the quantity of
the paper, in water; and that will render it as fit for
rubbing, rolling, or peeling, as the other way.
This being done, and your oil-colours prepared^
ground very fine, and tempered up very stiff, lay on
the back side of the transparent prints such colours
as each particular part requires ; letting the master-
lines of the print still guide your pencil, and so each
particular colour will lie fair to the eye on the other
side of the glass, and look almost as well as a painted
piece, if it be done neatly.
The shadows of the print are generally sufficient for
the shadow of every colour : but if you have a mind
to give a shadow by your pencil, then let the shadows
be laid on first, and the other colours afterward.
In laying on colours in this kind of back-painting,
you need not be curious as to the laying them on
smooth. This is not at all requisite here, where the
chief aim is only to have the colours appear well on the
fare side of the print; and therefore the only care to
bs
B A C t 3
Back- used In this work, is to lay the colours on thick
painting enough, that its body may strike the colour of it plainly
Ba keie 1 ^ie glass-
 ^ , * BACK-Staff, a name formerly given to a sea-quadrant,
invented by Captain Davis : because the back of the
artist is turned towards the sun at the time of observa¬
tion. See Quadrant.
BACK-Stays, of a ship, are ropes belonging to the
mainmast and foremast, and the masts belonging to
them 'f serving to keep them from pitching forwards or
overboard.
Back Tack, in Scots Laiv : When a wadsetter, in¬
stead of possessing the wadset-lands, grants a tack
thereof to the reverser for payment of a certain sum in
name of tack-duty, that tack is called a back tack.
BACK-fTorm. See Filanders.
BACKER, or Barker, Jaques, a painter of hi¬
story, was born at Antwerp in j and learned the
principles of painting from his father, who was an ar¬
tist very knowing in his profession, though his works
were in no great estimation. After the death of his
father, he lived in the house of Jacopo Palermo, a
dealer in pictures, who avariciously took care to keep
him incessantly employed, and sent his paintings to
Paris to be disposed of, where they happened to be ex¬
ceedingly admired. I he judicious were very eager to
purchase them ; and though the transactor sold them
at a great price, yet the poor artist was not propor¬
tionally rewarded, but continued in the same obscure
and depressed condition. His merit, indeed, was uni¬
versally allowed ; but his name, and the narrowness of
his circumstances, were as universally unknown. He
had a clean light manner of penciling, and a tint of
colour that was extremely agreeable.—He died in
1560.
Backer, or Barker, Jacob, painter of portrait
and history, was born at Harlingen in 1609, but spent
the greatest part of his life at Amsterdam j and by all
the writers on this subject, he is mentioned as an extra¬
ordinary painter, particularly of portraits, which he exe¬
cuted with strength, spirit, and a graceful resemblance.
He was remarkable for an uncommon readiness of hand
and freedom of pencil j and his incredible expedition in
his manner of painting, appeared even in one portrait of
a lady from Haerlem, that he painted at half length,
which was begun and finished in one day, though he
adorned the figure with rich drapery and several orna¬
mental jewels. He also painted historical subjects with
good success ; and in that style there is a fine picture of
Cimon and Iphigenia, which is accounted by the con¬
noisseurs an excellent performance. In designing aca¬
demy figures his expression was so just, and his outlines
so correct, that he obtained the prize from all his com¬
petitors 5 and his works are still bought up at very high
prices in the Low Countries. In the collection of the
Elector Palatine there is an excellent head of Brouwer,
painted by this master j and in the Carmelites church at
Antwerp is preserved a capital picture of theLast Judge¬
ment, which is well designed and well coloured. He
died in 16 91.
BACKEREEL, called Bacquerelli, William, a
painter of history, was born at Antwerp, and was
a disciple of Rubens at the same time that Vandyck
was educated in that school. When each of them
quitted that master, and commenced painter, Backe-
10 ] BAG
reel was very little inferior to Vandyck, if not nearly Backen
ins equal. And this may he manifestly seen in the Backlit!
works of the former, which are in the church of the An- sen.
gustine monks at Antwerp ; where those two great ar-
lists painted in competition, and both were praised for
their merit in their different ways ; but the superiority
was never determined in favour either of the one or the
other. He had likewise a good taste for poetry 5 but,
by exercising that talent too freely, in writing satires
against the Jesuits, these ecclesiastics pursued him with
unremitted revenge, till they compelled him to fly from
Antwerp 5. and by that means deprived his own country
of such paintings as would have contributed to its perpe¬
tual honour.—Sandrart takes notice, that in his time
there were seven or eight painters, who were very emi¬
nent, of the name of Backereel, in Italy and the Low
Countries.
BACKHUYSEN, Ludolph, an eminent painter,
Mras born at Embden in 1631, and received his earliest
instruction from Albert Van Everdingen j but acquired
his principal knowledge by frequenting the painting
rooms of different great masters, and observing their
various methods of touching and colouring. One of
these masters was Henry Dubbels, whose understand¬
ing in his art was very extensive : and he was as re-
max kably communicative of his knowledge' to others.
Iiom him Backhuysen obtained more real benefit than
fi om all the painters of his time, either by studying
their works, or personally conversing with them. His
subjects were sea-pieces, ships, and sea-ports. He had
not practised very long when he became the object of
general admiration; so that even his drawings were
sought after, and several of them were bought up at
100 florins a-piece. It was observed of him, that
while he was painting, he would not suffer even his
most intimate friends to have access to him, lest his
fancy might be disturbed, and the ideas he had formed
in his mind be interrupted. He studied nature atten¬
tively in all her forms ; in gales, calms, storms, clouds,
rocks, skies, lights, and shadows; and he expressed
every subject with so sweet a pencil, and such transpa¬
rence and lustre, as placed him above all the artists of
his time in that style, except the younger Vandervelde,
who is deservedly esteemed the first in that manner of
painting. It was a frequent custom with Backhuysen,
whenever he could procure resolute mariners, to go to
sea in a storm, in order to store his mind with grand
images, directly copied from nature, of such scenes as
would have filled any other head and heart with terror
and dismay ; and the moment he landed he always im¬
patiently ran to his palette to secure those incidents, of
which the traces might by delay be obliterated.—He
perfectly understood the management of the chiaro¬
scuro, and by his skill in that part of his art, he gave
uncommon force and beauty to his objects. He ob-
served strictly the art of perspective, in the distances
o ms vessels, the receding of the grounds on the shores,
and the different buildings which he described in the
sea-ports: whether they were the result of his own
imagination, or sketched, as he usually did, after na¬
ture. His works may easily be distinguished by an ob¬
servant eye, from the freedom and neatness of his
touch; from the clearness and natural agitation dr
quiescence of the water; from a peculiar tint in his
Ciouds and skies ; and also from the exact proportions
of
iackhuy
sen
y
Bacon.
BAG [ 3
of his siiips, and the gracefulness of their position. For
the burgomasters of Amsterdam he painted a large
picture, with a multitude of vessels, and a view of the
city at a distance, for which they gave him thirteen
hundred guilders, and a considerable present ; which
picture they afterwards presented to the king of France,
who placed it in the Louvre. No painter was ever
more honoured by the visits of kings and princes than
Backhuysen 5 the king of Prussia was one of the num¬
ber •, and the czar Peter the Great took delight to see
him paint, and often endeavoured to draw after vessels
which he had designed. He was remarkably assiduous,
and yet it seems astonishing to consider the number of
pictures which he finished, and the exquisite manner in
which they are painted. Fie died in 1709.
BACKING, in Horsemanship. See PIorseman-
SHIP.
Backing the Sails, in Navigation ; to arrange them
in a situation that will force the ship to retreat, or
move backwards. 1 his is, however, only done in nar¬
row channels, when a ship is carried along sidewise by
the tide or current, and wants to avoid any thing that
may interrupt her progress, as shoals, vessels at anchor,
&c. or in the line ot battle, when a ship wants to be
immediately opposite to another with which she is en¬
gaged.
BACKS, among dealers in leather, denote the
thickest and best tanned hides, used chiefly for soles of
shoes.
Backs, in Brewing and Distilling. See Bac.
BACULARIUS, in writers of the middle age, an
ecclesiastical apparitor, or verger j who carries a staff,
bacvlus, in his hand, as an ensign of his office.
BACON, swines flesh salted, and dried in the chim¬
ney.—Old historians and law-writers speak of the ser¬
vice of the bacon, a custom in the manor of Whichen-
acre in Staffordshire, and priory of Dun more in Essex 5
in the former of which places, by an ancient grant of
the lord, a flitch of bacon, with half a quarter of
wheat, was to be given to every married couple who
could swear, that, having been married a year and a
day, they would never within that time have once ex¬
changed their mate for any other person on earth,
however richer, fairer, or the like. But they were to
bring two of their neighbours to swear with them that
they believed they swore the truth. On this the lord of
another neighbouring manor, of Rudlow, was to find
a horse saddled, and a sack to carry the bounty in,
with drums and trumpets, as far as a day’s journey out
of the manor : all the tenants of the manor being sum¬
moned to attend, and pay service to the bacon. The
bacon of Dun more, first erected under Henry III. was
on much the same footing j only the tenor of the oath
vvas, that the parties had never once repented, or wish¬
ed themselves unmarried again.
Bacon, Roger, a Franciscan friar of amazing
genius and learning, was born near Ilchester in Somer¬
setshire, in the year 1214. He began his studies at
Oxford j but in what school or college is uncertain.
Thence he removed to the university of Paris, which,
in those times was esteemed the centre of literature.
Here, we are told, he made so rapid a progress in the
sciences, that he was esteemed the glory of that uni¬
versity, and was much caressed by several of his coun-
trymen, particularly by Robert Grouthead, afterwards,
11 ]
BAG
bishop of Lincoln, his singular friend and patron.
About the year 1240, he returned to Oxford; and
assuming the Franciscan habit, prosecuted his favourite
study o 1 experimental philosophy with unremitting
ardour and assiduity. In this pursuit, in experiment^
instruments, and in scarce hooks, lie tells us, he spent,
in the space of 20 years, no less than 2000I.; which'
it seems, was given him by some of the heads of the
university, to enable him to prosecute his noble in¬
quiries. But such extraordinary talents, and astonishing
pi ogress in sciences, which, in that ignorant age, were
totally unknown to the rest of mankind, whilst they
raised the admiration of the more intelligent few, could
not fail to excite the envy and malice of his illiterate
fraternity; who found no difficulty of possessing the vul¬
gar with the notion of Bacon’s dealing with The devil.
Under this pretence, he was restrained from reading
lectures; his writings were confined to his convent; and
finally, in 1278, he himself was imprisoned in his cell.
At this time he was 64 years of age. Nevertheless,
being permitted the use of his books, he went on in
the rational pursuit of knowledge, corrected his former
labours, and wrote several curious pieces. When he
had been ten years in confinement, Jerome de Ascoli
being elected pope, Bacon solicited bis holiness to be
released ; in which, it seems, he did not immediately
succeed. However, towards the latter end of that
pope’s reign, he obtained bis liberty, and spent the
remainder of his life in the college of his order, where
he died in the year 1294, in the 80th year of his age,
and was buried in the Franciscan church. Such are
the few particulars which the most diligent researches
have been able to discover concerning this very great
man ; who, like a single bright star in a dark hemi¬
sphere, shone forth the glory of his country, and the
pride of human nature. His works are,' I. Episto-
la Fratris Rogeri Baconis de Secretis Operibus Artis
et Naturae, et de Nullitate Magicc. Paris, 1542, 4to.
Basil, 1593, 8vo. 2. Opus Majus. Loud. 1733,
folio, published by Dr Jebh. 3. Thesaurus Chemicus,
I ranch 1603, 1620. Hus was probably the editor’s
title ; but it contains several of our author’s trea¬
tises on this subject. These printed works of Bacon
contain a considerable number of essays, which, in the
catalogue of his writings by Bale, Pits, &c. have been
considered as distinct books ; but there remain i'n differ¬
ent libraries several manuscripts not yet published. By
an attentive perusal of his works, the reader will be
astonished to find, that this great luminary of the 13th
century was a great linguist and a skilful grammarian,
that he was well versed in the theory and practice of
perspective; that he understood the use of convex and
concave glasses, and the art of making them ; that the
camera obscura, burning-glasses, and the power of the
telescope were known to him ; that he was well versed
in geography and astronomy ; that he knew the great
error in the kalendar, assigned the cause, and proposed
the remedy ; that he understood chronology well ; that
he was an adept in chemistry, and was really the inven¬
tor of gun-powder ; that he possessed great knowledge
in the medical art; that he was an able mathematician,
logiqian, metaphysician, and theologist.
Bacon, Sir Nicholas, lord keeper of the great sea!
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at Chifele-
hurt, in Kent, in 1510, and educated at the universi¬
ty
Bacon.
BAG [ 312 ] BAG
Bacon, ty of Cambridge ; after which he travelled into France,
—v—and made some stay at Paris. On his return, he settled
in Gray’s Inn, and applied himself with such assiduity
to the study of the law, that he quickly distinguished
himself so, that on the dissolution of the monastery of
St Edmund’s Bury, in Suffolk, he had a grant from
Iving Henry ^ III. in the 36th year of his reign, of
several manors. In the 38th of the same king, he was
promoted to the office of attorney in the court of
wards, which was a place both of honour and profit.
In this office he was continued by King Edward VI. j
and in 1552 he was elected treasurer of Gray’s Inn. His
great moderation and consummate prudence preserved
him through the dangerous reign of Queen Mary. In
the very dawn of that of Elizabeth he was knighted j
and on the 22d of December 1558, the great seal of
England, being taken from Nicholas Heath archbishop
of York was delivered to him with the title of /ord
keeper, and he was also made one of the queen’s privy
council. He had a considerable share in the settling
of religion: as a statesmen, he was remarkable fora
clear head and deep counsels: but his great parts and
high preferment were far from raising him in his own
opinion, as appears from the modest answer he gave
Queen Elizabeth, when she told him his house at Red¬
grave was too little lor him : “ Not so, madam, (re¬
turned he) 5 but your majesty has made nje too great
for my house.” After having had the great seal more
than 20 years, this able statesman and faithful counsel¬
lor was suddenly removed from this life, as Mr Mallet
informs us, by the following accident : he was under
the hands of the barber, and thinking the weather
warm, had ordered a window before him to be thrown
open, but fell asleep as the current of fresh air was
blowing in upon him, and awakened some time after dis¬
tempered all over. He was immediately removed into
his bed-chamber, where he died a few days after, on
the 26th of February 1578 9, equally lamented by the
queen and her subjects. He was buried in St Paul’s,
where a monument was erected to him, which was de¬
stroyed by tbe fire of Eondon in 1666. Mr Granger
observes, that he was the first lord keeper that ranked
as lord chancellor ; and that he had much of that pene¬
trating genius, solidity, and judgement, persuasive elo¬
quence, and comprehensive knowledge of law and equi¬
ty, which afterwards shone forth with so great a lustre in
his son, who was as much inferior to his father in point
of prudence and integrity, as his father was to him in
literary accomplishments.
Bacon, Francis, lord high chancellor of England
under King James I. was son of Sir Nicholas Bacon
lord keeper of the great seal in the reign of Queen E-
lizabeth, by Anne daughter of Sir Anthony Cook,
eminent for her skill in the Latin and Greek tongues.
He was born in 1560 ; and showed such marks of ge¬
nius, that he was particularly taken notice of by Queen
Elizabeth when very young. He was educated at
Irinity College, Cambridge 5 and made such incredi¬
ble progress in his studies, that, before he was 16, he
had not only run through the whole circle of the libe¬
ral arts as they were then taught, but began to per¬
ceive those imperfections in the reigning philosophy,
which he afterwards so effectually exposed, and there¬
by not only overturned that tyranny which prevented
Che progress of true knowledge, but laid the founda¬
tion of that free and useful philosophy which has since Bacon
opened a way to so many glorious discoveries. On his 1 J
leaving the university, his father sent him to France*,
where, before he was 19 years of age, be wrote a ge¬
neral view of the state of Europe: but Sir Nicholas
dying, he was obliged suddenly to return to England ;
when he applied himself to the study of the common
law, at Gray’s Inn. At this period the famous earl of
Essex, who could distinguish merit, and who passion¬
ately loved it, entered into an intimate friendship with
him 5 zealously attempted, though without success, to
procure him the office of queen’s solicitor j and, in or¬
der to comfort his friend under the disappointment,
conferred on him a present of land to the value of
1800I. Bacon, notwithstanding the friendship of so
great a person 5 notwithstanding the number and power
of his owrr relations j and, above all, notwithstand¬
ing the early prepossession of her majesty in his favour ;
met with many obstacles to his preferment during her
reign. In particular, his enemies represented him as
a speculative man, whose head was filled with philoso¬
phical notions, and therefore more likely to perplex
than forward public business. It was not without great
difficulty that lord treasurer Burleigh obtained for him
the reversion of register to the star-chamber, worth
about 1600I. a-year, which place fell to him about 20
years after. Neither did he obtain any other prefer¬
ment all this reign 3 though if obedience to a sovereign
in what must be the most disagreeable of all offices,
viz. the casting reflections on a deceased friend, enti¬
tled him, he might have claimed it, The people were
so clamorous even against the queen herself on the
death of Essex, that it was thought necessary to vindi¬
cate the conduct of the administration. This was
assigned to Bacon, which brought on him universal
censure, nay his very life was threatened. Upon the
accession ol King James, he was soon raised to consi¬
derable honours j and wrote in favour of the union of
the two kingdoms of Scotland and England, which the
king so passionately desired. In 1616, he was sworn
of the privy council. He then applied himself to the
reducing and recomposing the laws of England. He
distinguished himself, when attorney general, by his
endeavours to restrain the customs of duels, then very
frequent. In 1617, he was appointed lord keeper of
the great seal. In 1618, he was made lord chancel¬
lor of England, and created lord Verulam. In the
midst of these honours and applauses, and multiplicity
ol business, he forgot not his philosophy, but in 1620
published his great work entitled Novum Organum.
We find by several letters of his, that he thought con¬
vening of parliaments was the best expedient for the king
and people. In 1621 he was advanced to the dignity of
discount St Albans, and appeared with the greatest
splendour at the opening of the session of parliament.
But he was soon after surprised with a melancholy re¬
verse of fortune. For, about the 12th of March, a
committee of the house of commons was appointed to
inspect the abuses of the courts of justice. The first
thing they fell upon was bribery and corruption, of
which the lord chancellor was accused. For that very
year complaints being made to the house of commons
of his lordship’s having received bribes, those com¬
plaints were sent up to the house of lords ; and new
ones being daily made of a like nature, things soon
grew
BAG [ 3
luean. grew too high to be got over. The king found it was
—-v—' impossible to save both his chancellor, who was open¬
ly accused of corruption, and Buckingham his favour¬
ite, who was secretly and therefore more dangerously
attacked as the encourager of whatever was deemed
most illegal and oppressive : he therefore forced the
former to abandon his defence, giving him positive ad¬
vice to submit himself to his peers, and promising upon
his princely word to screen him in the last determina¬
tion, or, if that could not be, to reward him after¬
wards with an ample retribution of favour. The chan¬
cellor, though he foresaw his approaching ruin if he
did not plead for himself, resolved to obey ; and the
house of peers, on the third of May 1621, gave judge¬
ment against him, “ That he should be fined 40,000!.
and remain prisoner in the Tower during the king’s
pleasure j that he should for ever be incapable of any
office, place, or employment, in the state or common¬
wealth j and that he should never sit in parliament, or
come within the verge of the court.” The fault which,
next to his ingratitude to Essex, thus tarnished the
glory of this illustrious man, is said to have principally
proceeded from his indulgence to his servants, who
made a corrupt use of it. One day, during his trial,
passing through a room where several of his domestics
were sitting, upon their rising up to salute him, he
said, “ Sit down, my masters j your rise hath been my
fall.” Stephens, p. 54. And we are told by Rush-
worth, in his historical collections, “ That he treasured
up nothing for himself or family, but was over-indul¬
gent to his servants, and connived at their takings,
and their ways betrayed him to that error ; they were
profuse and expensive, and had at their command what¬
ever he was master of. The gifts taken were for the
most part for interlocutory orders ; his decrees were
generally made with so much equity, that though gifts
rendered him suspected for injustice, yet never any de¬
cree made by him was reversed as unjust.” It was pe¬
culiar to this great man (say the authors of the Biogr.
Brit.) to have nothing narrow and selfish in his compo¬
sition : he gave way without concern whatever he pos¬
sessed ; and believing other men of the same mould, he
received with as little consideration. He retired, af¬
ter a short imprisonment, from the engagements of an
active life, to which he had been called much against
his genius, to the shade of a contemplative one, which
he had always loved. The king remitted his fine, and
he was summoned to parliament in the first year of King
Charles I. It appears from the works composed du¬
ring his retirement, that his thoughts were still free,
vigorous, and noble. The last five years of his life he
devoted wholly to his studies. In his recess he com¬
posed the greatest part of his English and Latin works.
He expired on the 9th of April 1626; and was buried
rn St Michael’s church at St Alban’s, according to the
direction of his last will, where a monument of white
marble was erected to him by Sir Thomas Meautys,
formerly his secretary, and afterwards clerk of the pri vy
council under two kings. A complete edition of this
great man’s works was published at London in the
year 174a—-Addison has said of him, That he had
the sound, distinct, comprehensive knowledge of Ari-
stotle, with all the beautiful light graces and embel¬
lishments of Cicero. The honourable Mr Walpole
calls him the Prophet of Arts which Newton was af-
Vol. HI. Part I. t
13 ] B A C
terwards to reveal ; and adds, that his genius and his Baron
works will be universally admired as long as science ||
exists. “ As long as’ingratitude and adulation are de- Bactria.
spicable, so long shall we lament the depravity of this * ’ J
great man s heart. Alas ! that he who could command
immortal fame, should have stooped to the little ambi¬
tion of power.”
Bacon, Sir Nathaniel, knight of the Bath, and an
excellent painter, was a younger son of the lord keep¬
er, and half brother to the great Sir Francis. He tra¬
velled into Italy, and studied painting there j but his
manner and colouring approaches nearer to the style of
the Flemish school. Mr Walpole observes, that at
Culford, where he lived, are preserved some of his
works; and at Gorhambury, his father’s seat, is a
large picture by him in^oil, of a cook-maid with a dead
fowl, admirably painted, with great nature, neatness,
and lustre of colouring. In the same house is a whole
length of him, by himself, drawing on a paper, his
sword and pallet hung up, and a half length of his mo¬
ther by him.
Bacon, John, an eminent British sculptor. See
Supplement.
BACON THORP, John, called the resolute doctor,
a learned monk, was born towards the end of the 13th
century at Baconthorp, a village in Norfolk. He
spent the early part of his life in the convent of Black-
ney, near Walsingham in the same county 5 whence he
removed to Oxford, and from thence to Pans j where
being distinguished for his learning, he obtained de¬
grees in divinity and laws, and was esteemed the prin¬
cipal of the Averroists*. In 1329 he returned to Eng-* See Ire¬
land, and was immediately chosen twelfth provincialro^-
of the English Carmelites. In 1333 he was sent for
to Rome; where, we are told, he first maintained the
pope’s sovereign authority in cases of divorce, but that
he afterwards retracted his opinion. He died in Lon¬
don in the year 1346. Leland, Bale, and Pits, una¬
nimously gave him the character of a monk of genius
and learning. He wrote, 1. Comment aria seu questiones
super quatuor hbros sententiarum, and, 2. Compendium
legis Chnsti, et quodhbeta ; both which underwent se¬
veral editions at Paris, Milan, and Cremona.
BAC1RIA, or Bactriana, now Chorassan or Kho~
rasan, an ancient kingdom of Asia, bounded on the
west by Margiana, on the north by the river Oxus, on
the south by Mount Paropismus, and on the east by
the Asiatic Scythia and the country of the Massagetse.
It was a large, fruitful, and well peopled country,
containing according to Ammianus Marcellinus 1000
cities, though of these only a few are particularly
mentioned by historians, of which that formerly call¬
ed Maracanda, now Samarcand, is the most consider¬
able.
Of the history of this country we know but little.
Authors agree that it was subdued first by the Assy¬
rians, afterwards by Cyrus, and then by Alexander the
Great. Afterwards it remained subject to Seleucus
Nicator and his successors till the time of Antiochus
Theos; when Theodorus, from governor of that pro¬
vince, became king, and strengthened himself so effec¬
tually in his kingdom, while Antiochus was engaged
in a war with Ptolemy Philadelphus king of Egypt,
that he could never afterwards dispossess him of his ac¬
quisitions. His posterity continued to enjoy the king¬
ly * doiu
BAG [3
Bactn'a dom for some time, till they were driven out by the
ii Scythians, who reigned in Bactria at the time of A-
Bada^han. (]riHt), Antoninus Pius, &c. The Scythians were in
their turn driven out by the Huns or Turks, and these
often conquered by the Saracens and Tartars ; never¬
theless they continued in possession of this country in
the time of Ladislaus IV. king of Hungary.
In early times the Bactrians differed little in their
manners from the Nomades 5 and being near neigh¬
bours of the Scythians, who were a very warlike people,
the Bactrian soldiers were reckoned the best in the
world. Their appearance was very savage ; being of
an enormous stature, having a terrible aspect, rough
beards, and long hair hanging down their shoulders.
Some authors assert that they kept dogs on purpose to
devour such as arrived atexti'eme old age, or who were
exhausted by long sickness. They add, that for all their
fierceness, the Bactrian husbands w;ere such dupes to
their wives, that they durst not complain of them even
for conjugal infidelity, to which it seems the latter wrere
very much addicted.
BACTROPERATA, an ancient appellation given
to philosophers by way of contempt, denoting a man
with a staff and a budget.
We suppose it is of the same people that Pauchasias
Radbertus speaks under the corrupt name of JBacope-
ritce or Baechionitce, whom he described as philosophers
who had so great a contempt for all earthly things,
that they kept nothing but a dish to drink out of $ and
that one of this order seeing a peasant scooping up the
water in his hand, threw away his cup as a superfluity :
which is nothing but the old story of Diogenes the
Cynic.
BACCULE, in Fortification^ a kind of portcullis,
or gate, made like a pit-fall with a counterpoise, and
supported by two great stakes. It is usually made be¬
fore the corpade guard, not far from the gate of a
place.
BACULOMETRY, the art of measuring accessible
or inaccessible heights, by the help of one or more ba-
culi, staves, or rods. See GEOMETRY.
BACURIUS, or Baturius, king of the Iberians,
a people on the side of the Caspian sea. One day be¬
ing a-hunting, he lost sight of his company, through a
great storm and sudden darkness ; upon winch he vow¬
ed to the God of his Christian slave, that if he were de¬
livered he would worship him alone : the day breaking
up immediately, lie made good his promise, and became
the apostle of his country.
BADAGSHAN, a very ancient city of Great Bck-
haria, in the province of Balkh, situated at the foot of
those high mountains which separate Hindostan from
Great Tartary. The city is exceedingly strong by its
situation ; and belongs to the khan of Proper Bukha-
ria, who uses it as a kind of state-prison to secure those
he is jealous of. The town is not large, but well
built, and very populous. It stands on the north side
of the river Amu, about 100 miles from its source, and
is a great thoroughfare for the caravans travelling to
Little Bukharia. The inhabitants are enriched by
mines of gold, silver, and rubies, which are in the
neighbourhood ; and those who live at the foot of the
mountains gather a great quantity of gold and silver
dust brought down in the spring by torrents occasioned
by the melting of the snow on the top.
3..
14 ] ' BAG
BADAJOZ, a large and strong town, capital of
Estremadura in Spain. It is seated on the river Gua- ||
diana, over which there is a fine bridge built by the Baden.
Romans. On this bridge the Portuguese were defeated
in 1661, by Don John of Austria. The population of
Badajoz is computed at 14,500 inhabitants. It was
taken by storm by the British under Lord Wellington,
after a memorable conflict, on the 6th April 1812.
W. Long. 7. 3. N. Lat. 38. 35.
BADELONA, a town of Catalonia in Spain, seat¬
ed on the Mediterranean. Lord Peterborough landed
here in I7°4> w^en> with Charles then king of Spain,
he laid siege to Barcelona, from which it is ten miles
distant. E. Long. 2. 20. N. Lat. 41. 12.
BADEN, a district in Swisserland, has three cities,
Baden, Neifers Stoul, and Klingnaw, besides a town
that passes for a city, named Zvr’zack. It is one of
the finest countries in Swisserland ; and is watered
with three navigable rivers, the Limmet, Russ, and
Are. Ihe land is fertile in torn and fruit, and there
are places on the sides of the Limmet which produce
wine. It maintains a communication between the can¬
tons of Zurich and Berne, being seated between their
north extremities. It extends on one side to the Are,
as far as the place where it falls into the Rhine, and
on the other side beyond the Rhine, where there are
some villages which depend thereon. Most of the in¬
habitants are Papists. By the treaty of peace at the
conclusion of the war which broke out in 1712 between
the Protestant and Popish cantons, this country was
yielded to the Protestant cantons of Zurich and Bern.
The constitution of 1798 restored it for a time to its
original independence j but on the reorganization of
the cantons by Bonaparte in 1803, it was united to that
of Argau. It contained at that time 46,381 inhabitants.
Baden, the capital of the above district, is an agree¬
able city, moderately large, seated on the side of the
Limmet, in a plain flanked by two high hills, between
which the river runs. This city owes its rise to its
baths, which were famous before the Christian era.
Several monuments of antiquity have been found here
from time to time, particularly in 1240. When they
were opening the large spring of the baths, they found
statues of several heathen gods, made of alabaster j
Roman coins, made of bronze, of Augustus, Vespasi¬
an, Decius, &c. ; and several medals of the Roman
emperors, of gold, silver, copper, and bronze. There
are two churches in Baden ; one of which is collegiate,
and makes a good appearance •, the other is a monaste¬
ry of the Capuchins, near the townhouse. This last
building served formerly not only for the assemblies of
their own council, but also for those of the cantons.
Ihe diet assembled in a handsome room made for that
purpose; the deputies of Zurich sat at the bottom be¬
hind a table, as the most honourable place j the ambas¬
sadors of foreign powers were seated on one side to the
right, and the deputies of the other cantons were ranged
on each side the room. The bailiff of Baden resides in
a castle at the end of a handsome wooden bridge,
which is covered in. Before this castle there is a stone
pillar, erected in honour of the emperor Trajan, who
paved a road in this country 85 Italian miles in length.
J he inhabitants are rigid Roman Catholics, and for¬
merly behaved in a most insolent manner to the Prote¬
stants, but they are now obliged by their masters to be
more
B A D [ 3I5
Baden more submissive. The baths which are on each side of
it the river are a quarter of a league from the city. Join
idenoch-ing to the small baths there is a village, and to the
large a town which may pass for a second Baden. It
is seated on a hill, of which the ascent is steep. There
the baths are brought into inns and private houses, by
means of pipes, which are about 60 in all. There are
also public baths in the middle of the town, from a
spring which rises in the street, where the poor bathe
gratis, but they are exposed quite naked to all that pass
by. All the baths are hot, and one to so great a de-
gree as to scald the hand ; and they are impregnated
with a great deal of sulphur, with some alum and nitre.
They are useful for drinking as well as bathing j and
are said to cure all diseases from a cold cause, head¬
aches, vertigoes, &c. They strengthen the senses,
cure diseases of the breast and bowels, asthmas, and ob¬
structions. They are peculiarly excellent for women’s
diseases. E. Long. 8. 25. N. Lat. 47. 27.
Baden, formerly a margravate, now a grand duchy
in Germany. It is bounded by Hesse Darmstadt
and Bavaria on the north j by Wirtemburg, on the east;
by Switzerland, on the south ; and by the Rhine, which
divides it from Alsace, on the west. It is about 170
miles in length, from north to south ; but not above
30 or 40 in breadth ; and contained, in 1816, 5800
square English miles, with 1,001,700 inhabitants. ‘ It
was erected into a duchy in 1806, and was subsequent¬
ly divided into ten circles. The French code was in¬
troduced in the time ot Bonaparte, and is still in force,
with some modifications. The public revenue of the
duchy is estimated at 550,000!. sterling. The country
is generally fertile, producing corn and wine. About
two-thirds of the people are Lutherans, the other third
are Calvinists. In 1819 the grand duke gave his sub¬
jects a representative constitution. The principal rivers
are the Rhine, Neckar, Ems, and Wirmbs. Carlsruhe
is the chief town, and seat of the government.
Baden, the chief city of the margravate, contains
2000 inhabitants, and has a few manufactures of pot¬
tery, leather, soap, &c. The town is seated among hills,
on rocky and uneven ground, which renders the streets
inconvenient and Crooked. It is famous for its baths,
the springs of which are said to be above 300. Some
ot them are hot, and accounted to be very good in ner¬
vous cases. They partake of salt, alum, and sulphur.
E. Long. 8. 15. N. Lat. 48. 50.
Baden, a town of Germany, in the archduchy of
Austria, seated on the Little Suechat, is a neat little
walled town, standing in a plain not far from a ridge
of hills which run out from the mountain Cetius. It
is much frequented by the people of Vienna, and the
neighbouring parts, on account of. its baths. The
springs supply two convenient baths within the town,
five without the walls, and one beyond the river. They
are good for distempers of the head, the gout, dropsy,
and most chronic diseases. E. Long. 16. xo. N. Lat.
48. o.
BADENOCH, the most easterly part of Inverness-
shire, in Scotland, extending about 33 miles in length
from east to west, and 27 from north-east to south-west
where broadest. It has no considerable town, and is
very barren and hilly, but abounds with deer, and other
kinds of game.
] BAD
B ADEN-wetleer, a town of Germany, belonging
to the lower margravate of Baden. E. Long. 7. 50.
N. Lat. 47. 55.
BADENS, Francis, historical and portrait paint-
ex’, was born at Antwerp in 1571 j and the first rudi¬
ments of the art were communicated to him by his fa¬
ther, who was but an ordinary artist. However, he
visited Rome, and several parts of Italy, and there
formed a good taste of design, and a manner exceed-
ingly pleasing. When he returned to his own country
his merit procured for him great employment, and still
greater reputation, and he was usually distinguished bv
the name of the Italian painter. His touch was light
and spirited, and his colouring warm j and he had the
honour of being the first who introduced a good taste
of colouring among his countrymen. While his ac¬
knowledged merit was rewarded with every public tes¬
timony ot esteem and applause, unhappily he received
an account of the death of his brother, who had been
assassinated on a journey ; and the intelligence affected
him so violently, that it occasioned his own death, to the
inexpressible regret of every lover of the art, in 1603.
BADGE, in naval architecture, signifies a sort of
ornament placed on the outside of small ships, verv
near the stern, containing either a window for the con¬
venience of the cabin, or a representation of it. It is
commonly decorated with marine figures, martial in¬
struments, or such like emblems.
BADGER, in Zoology, the English name of a species
of ursus. See Ursus.
Badger, in old law-books, one that was licensed to
buy corn in one place and carry it to another to sell,
without incurring the punishment of an engrosser.
BADIA, an ancient town of Bsetica, on the Anas j
now supposed to be Badajoz on the Guadiana.
BADIAGA, in the Materia Medica, the name of a
sort of spongy plant, common in the shops in Moscow,
and some other northern kingdoms. The use of it is
the taking away of livid marks from blow's and bruises,-
which the powder of this plant is said to do in a night’s
time.
BADIANE, or Bandian, the seed of a tree which
grows in China, and smells like anise-seed. The Chi¬
nese, and the Dutch in imitation of them, sometimes
use the badiane to give their tea an aromatic taste.
BADIGEON, a mixture of plaster and free-stone,
well ground together, and sifted ; used by statuaries to
fill up the little holes, and repair the defects in stones,
whereof they make their statues and other work.
The same term is also used by joiners for saw-dust
mixed with strong glue, wherewith they fill up the
chaps and other defects in wood after it is wrought.
BADILE, Antonia, history and portrait painter,
was born at Verona in 1480, and by great study and
application acquired a more extensive knowledge of
the true principles of painting than any of his prede¬
cessors. He was confessedly a most eminent artist;
but he derived greater honour from having two such
disciples as Paolo Veronese and Baptista Zelotti, than
he did even from the excellence of his own composi¬
tions. He died in 1560. His colouring was admi¬
rably good ; his carnations beautiful ; and his portraits
preserved the perfect resemblance of flesh and real
life : nor had be any cause to envy the acknowledtftd
R r 2 merit
B ubn-
Weiller
11
Badile.
B A E [ 316 ] BAG
Badile merit of Titian, Giorgione, or the best of his cotem-
|| poraries.
Buetylia. BADIS, a fortress of Livonia, subject to Russia.
E, Long. 23. 10. N. Lat. 59. 15.
RADIUS, Conrad, and Stephen Robert, his
brother ; French refugees 5 celebrated as printers at
Geneva, and Conrad as an author. The latter died in
1566.
BAiCKEA. See Botany Index.
BiETERRiE, an ancient town of the Tectosages in
Gallia Narbonensis j now Besiers, on the east bank of
the Obris, now Orbis or Orbe, in Lower Languedoc.
BiETICA, a province of ancient Spain, so called
from the famed river Baetis, afterwards Tartessus, now
Guadalqi/iver, or the great river. It was bounded on
the west by Lusitania; on the south, by the Mediter¬
ranean, and Sinus Gaditanus: on the north by the Can-
tabric sea, now the bay of Biscay. On the east and
north-east, its limits cannot be so well ascertained, as
they are very reasonably thought to have been in a
continual state of fluctuation, as each petty monarch
had an opportunity of encroaching upon his neighbour.
The province was divided in two by the river Bsetis
already mentioned. On the one side of which, towards
the Anas, were situated the Turdetani, from whence
the kingdom was called Turdetania, though more ge¬
nerally known by the name of Bceluria. On the
other side were situated the Bastuli, Batestani, and
Contestani, along the Mediterranean coasts. The Ba¬
stuli were supposed to be of Phoenician extraction, and
dwelt along the coasts of the Mediterranean, till, driven
from thence by the Moors, they fled into the moun¬
tainous parts of Galicia, which they then called from
their own name Bastulia. The Batestani were seated
higher up, on the same coasts. The teritories of both
these made part of what has since become the kingdom
of Granada ; in which there is a ridge of very high
mountains, called from the above-mentioned people,
the Batestanian mountains. Mention is also made of
their capital Batestana ; a place of such strength, that
King Ferdinand was six months besieging it before he
could take it from the Moors. The whole province
of Baetica, according to the most probable account,
contained what is now called Andalusia, part of the
kingdom of Granada, and the outward boundaries of
Estremadura.
BvETIS. See B^etica.
BiETULO, a town of ancient Spain in the Tarra-
conensis ; now Badelona in Catalonia.
BiETYLIA, anointed stones, worshipped by the
Phoenicians, by the Greeks before the time of Cecrops,
and by other barbarous nations. They were com¬
monly of a black colour, and consecrated to some
god, as Saturn, Jupiter, the Sun, &c. Some are of
opinion that the true original of these idols is to be
derived from the pillar of stone which Jacob erected at
Bethel, and which was afterwards worshipped bv the
Jews.
These bwtylia were much the object of the veneration
of the ancient heathens. Many of their idols were no
other. In reality, no sort of idol was more common
in the eastern countries, than that of oblong stones
erected, and hence termed by the Greeks, xma, pillars.
In some parts of Egypt they were planted on both
sides of the highways. In the temple of Heliogaba-
» 2
lus, in Syria, there was one pretended to have fallen
from heaven. There was also a famous black stone in
Phrygia, said to have fallen from heaven. The Ro¬
mans sent for it and the pidests belonging to it with '
much ceremony, Scipio Nasica being at the head of
the embassy.
BAEZA, a city of Andalusia in Spain, seated on a
high hill three miles from the Guadalquiver ; it is the
see of a bishop, and has a kind of university founded
by John d’Avila. It was taken from the Moors about
the end of the 15th century. E. Long. 3. 15. N. Lat.
Bssivlia
. 11
-Bagdad.
BAFFETAS, or Bastas, a cloth made of coarse
wdiite cotton thread, which comes from the East Indies.
That of Surat is the best.
BAFFIN’S bay, a gulf of North A merica, running
north-east from Cape Farewell in West Greenland,
from 6* to 8° of north latitude.
BAFFO, a considerable town in the island of Cy¬
prus, with a fort built near ancient Paphos, of which
some considerable ruins yet remain, particularly some
broken columns, which probably belonged to the tem¬
ple of Venus. E. Long. 32. 20. N. Lat. 34. 50.
BAG, in commerce, a term signifying a certain
quantity of some particular commodity : a bag of al¬
monds, for instance, is about 300 weight; of anise-
seeds, from, 300 to 400, &c.
Bags, are used in most countries to put several sorts
of coin, either of gold, silver, brass or copper. Bank¬
ers, and others, who deal much in current cash, label
their bags of money, by tying a ticket or note at the
mouth of the bag, signifying the coin therein contain¬
ed, the sum total, its weight, and of whom it was re¬
ceived. Tare is allowed for the bag.
Bag, among farriers, is when, in order to retrieve
a horse’s lost appetite, they put in an ounce of asafoe-
tida, and as much powder of savin, into a bag, to be
tied to the bit, keeping him bridled for two hours, se¬
veral times a-day ; as soon as the bag is taken off he
will fall to eating. The same bag will serve a long
time.
BAGAMADER, or Bagamedri, a province of
the kingdom of Abyssinia in Africa. It is said to re¬
ceive its name from the great number of sheep bred in
it; meder signifying land or earth, and bag a sheep. Its
length is estimated about 60 leagues, and its breadth
20 : but formerly it was much more extensive ; several
of its provinces having been dismembered from it, and
joined to that of Tigre. A great part of it, especially
towards the east, is inhabited by wandering Gallas and
Caffres.
BAGAUDiE, or Bacaud^e, an ancient faction of
peasants, or malecontents, who ravaged Gaul. The
Gauls being oppressed with taxes, rose about the
year of Christ 290, under the command of Amand
and Elian ; and assumed the name bagaudce, which,
according to some authors, signified in the. Gallic
language rebels; according to others, tribute;
according to others, robbers; which last signification
others allow the word had, but then it was only after
the time of the bagaudce, and doubtless took its rise
from them.
BAGDA D, a celebrated city of Asia in Irak Arabia,
seated on the eastern banks of the Tigris, in E. Long.
44* I0* N. Lat. 33. jj. By many authors this city is
very
ifl
fi.1
U
1 M
tiki
BAG [ 3I
, rjad. very improperly called Babylon. The latter stood on
the Euphrates at a considerable distance.
This city, for many years the capital of the Saracen
empire, was founded by the caliph A1 Mansur, the se¬
cond of the house of A1 Abbas, after an attempt by the
llawandians to assassinate him, as already mentioned.
r See Arabia, N° 184.
Tiy tlie The reasons assigned by the Arabian historians for
cv was building the city of Bagdad are, That the above-men¬
tioned attempt to assassinate the caliph had disgusted
him at his Arabian subjects in general, and that the
spot where Bagdad stood was at a considerable distance
from the city of Cufa particularly ; the inhabitants of
which were remarkable for their treachery and incon¬
stancy, Al Mansur himself having felt several instances
ot it. Besides, the people of Irac, who had always con¬
tinued faithful to him, represented, that by building his
capital near the confluence of the Euphrates and Tigris,
it would be in a great measure secured from the insults
and attacks of those who should have an inclination to
dispute the caliphate with him; and that by being situ¬
ated as it were in the middle of the tract comprehend¬
ing the districts of Basrah, Cufa, Waset, Mawsel, and
Swada, at no great distance from these cities, it would
be plentifully supplied with provisions by means of the
t aforesaid rivers.
Alient Concerning the origin of the name Bagdad, there are
ci dc- various accounts, which, being equally uncertain and
ttucd. trifling, merit no attention. The first city that went
by this name was situated on the western bank of the
Tigris ; from whence Al Mansur despatched his son
Al Mohdi with a body of Moslem troops to the oppo¬
site bank. Here the young prince took post, and for¬
tified the place on which he had encamped with a wall,
in order to cover his troops, as well as the workmen
employed by his father on the other side of the river,
from the incursions of the Persians, who seemed to have
taken umbrage at the erection of a new metropolis so
near the frontiers of their dominions. Hence that part
of the city soon after built on the eastern banks of the
Tigris, received the name of the Camp or Fortress of
Al Mohdi. The caliph had a superb and magnificent
palace both in the eastern and western part of the town.
The eastern palace was surrounded on the land side by
a semicircular wall that had six gates; the principal of
which seems to have been called the gate of prefects,
whose entrance was generally kissed by the princes and
ambassadors that came to the caliph’s court. The west¬
ern part of the city was entirely round, with the ca¬
liph’s palace in the centre, and having the great mosque
annexed to it. The, eastern part consisted of an interior
and exterior town, each of which was surrounded by a
wall. For some time the building of the city went
but slowly on, owing to a scarcity of materials for
building ; for which reason the caliph was sometimes
inclined to remove the materials of Al Madayen, the
ancient metropolis of the Persian empire. But, upon
trial, he found the stones to be of such immense size,
that the removal of them to Bagdad would be attended
with great difficulty and expence; besides, he considered
that it would be a reflection upon himself to have it
said that he could not finish his metropolis without de¬
stroying such a pile of building, as perhaps could not
be paralleled in the whole world ; for which reasons
he at length gave over his design, and erected the city
] BAG
f Bagdad most probably out of the ruins of the ancient Bairdad.
cities of Seleucia and Ctesiphon, putting an end to his ^r—J
undertaking in the 149th year of the Hegira, or four
years after the city was begun.
T rom the building of the city of Bagdad to the death
of A\ Mansur nothing very remarkable happened,. ex¬
cepting some irruptions made into the territories of the
Greeks, and by the Arabs into some of the caliph’s
other territories. In the 157th year of the Hegira also,
a grievous famine was felt in Mesopotamia, which was
quickly after followed by a plague that destroyed great
numbers. This year likewise, the Christians, who had
been all along very severely dealt with by Al Mansur,
were treated with the utmost rigour by Musa Ebn Mo-
saab the caliph’s governor ; every one who was unable
to pay the enormous tribute exacted of them being
thrown into prison without distinction.
The next year, being the 158th of the Hegira, the Death of
caliph set out from Bagdad, in order to perform the pil-M Mansur*
grimage to Mecca : but, being taken ill on the road, he
expired at Bir Maimun, whence his body was carried
to Mecca; where, after a hundred graves had been
dug, that his sepulchre might be concealed, he was in¬
terred, having lived according to some 63, according
to others 68 years, and reigned 22. He is said to have
been extremely covetous, and to have left in his treasury
600,000,000 dirhems, and 24,000,000 dinars. He is
reported to have paid his cook by assigning him the
heads and legs of the animals dressed in his kitchen, and
to have obliged him to procure at his own expence all
the fuel and vessels he had occasion for.
When Al Mansur expired at Bir Maimun, he had Succeeded
only his domestics and Babi his freedman with him. by Al
The latter of these, for some time, kept his death con- Mohdi,
cealed, and pretended to have a conference with him,
in which, as he gave out, the caliph commanded him
to exact an oath of allegiance to Al Mohdi his son,
as his immediate successor, and to Isa Ebn Musa his
cousin-german, as the next apparent heir to the crown.
He then despatched a courier to Bagdad with the news
of Al Mansur’s death ; upon which Al Mohdi was
unanimously proclaimed caliph. Isa Ebn Musa, how¬
ever, no sooner heard this news, than he began to en¬
tertain thoughts of setting up for himself at Cufa,
where he then resided ; and in order to facilitate the
execution of his scheme, fortified himself in that city.
But Al Mohdi being apprised of his defection, sent
a detachment of icoo horse to bring him to Bag¬
dad ; which being done, Al Mohdi not only prevail¬
ed upon him to own his allegiance to him, but also to
give up his right to the succession for 10,000 accord¬
ing to some, or according to others for 10,000,000
dinars. ^
From the accession of Al Mohdi to the 164th year Rebellion,
of the Hegira, the most remarkable event was the re-ofAlMG-
bellion of Al Mekanna. This impious impostor, whose kanna"
true name was Hakem Ebn Hesham, came originally
from Khorasan, and had been an under secretary to
Abu Moslem governor of that province. He after¬
wards turned soldier, and passed thence into Mawaral-
nahr, where he gave himself out for a prophet. The
name of Al Mokanna, as also that of Ai Borkai, that
is, the veiled, he took from bis custom of covering his'
face with a veil or girdle mask, to conceal his defor¬
mity ; he having lost an eye in the wars, and being
otherwise
BAG [ 3
Bagdad, otherwise of a despicable appearance ; though his fol-
1 —' lowers pretended he did this for the same reason that
Moses did, viz. lest the splendour of his countenance
should dazzle the eyes of his beholders. In some
places he made a great many proselytes, deluding the
people with a number of juggling tricks which they
swallowed as miracles, and particularly by causing the
appearance of a moon to rise out of a well for many
nights together $ whence he was also called in the Per¬
sian tongue, Sa%endeb mak, or the moon-maker. This
wretch, not content with being reckoned a prophet,
arrogated to himself divine honours j pretending that
the Deity resided in his person, having proceeded to
him from Abu Moslem, in whom he had taken up his
residence before. At last this impostor raised an open
rebellion against the caliph, and made himself master
of several fortified places in Khorasan, so that A1 Moh-
di was obliged to send one of his generals with an
army against him. Upon the approach of the caliph’s
troops, A1 Mokanna retired into one of his strong for¬
tresses which he had well provided for a siege j and
sent his emissaries abroad to persuade the people that
6 he raised the dead to life, and foretold future events^
Dreadful But being closely besieged by the caliph’s forces, and
catastrophegeeing no possibility of escaping, he gave poison in
all his fa- w'ne *° w^°^e fam*ty and all that were with him,
Hiilv. in the castle ; when they were dead, he burnt their
bodies, together with all their furniture, provisions,
and cattle ; and lastly, he threw himslf into the flames,
or, as others say, into a tub of aquafortis, or some
other preparation, which consumed every part of him
except the hair. When the besiegers therefore entered
the place, they found no living creature in it, except
one of A1 Mokanna’s concubines, who, suspecting his
design, had hid herself, and now discovered the whole
matter. This terrible contrivance, however, failed not
to produce the desired effect. He bad promised his
followers, that his soul should transmigrate into the
form of an old man riding on a grayish-coloured
beast, and that after so many years he would return
and give them the earth for their possession ; which ri¬
diculous expectation kept the sect in being for several
7 years.
Harun A1 All this time war had been carried on with the
Raschid’s Greeks, but without any remarkable success on either
success side. In the 164th year of the Hegira, however, A1
S tieMohdi ordered his son Harun A1 Raschid to penetrate
into the Greek territories with an army of 95,000 men.
Harun, then, having entered the dominions of the em¬
press Irene, defeated one of her commanders that ad¬
vanced against him \ after which he laid waste several
of the imperial provinces with fire and sword, and
even threatened the city of Constantinople itself. By
th is the empress was so terrified, that she purchased a
peace with the caliph by paying him an annual tribute
of 70,000 pieces of gold ; which, for the present at
least, delivered her from the depredations of these bar-
S barians. After the signing of the treaty, Harun return-
Unaccount-ed home laden with spoils and glory. This year, ac-
nessdaik* cording to some ^ie oriental historians, the sun one
day, a little after his rising, totally lost his light in a
moment, without being eclipsed, when neither any fog
nor any cloud of dust appeared to obscure him. This
frightful darkness continued till noon, to the great asto-
18 ] BAG
nishment of the people settled in the countries where it Bagdad
happened.
In the 169th
poisoned, though
bines named Hasanah. She had designed to destroy *K>1SOne(*; 1
one of her rivals whom she imagined to have too
great an ascendant over the caliph, by giving her a
poisoned pear. This the latter, not suspecting any
thing, gave to the caliph ; who bad no sooner eaten it
than he felt himself in exquisite torture, and soon after
expired. IQ
On the death of Al Mohdi, he was succeeded by as likewise
his eldest son Al Hadi 5 who having formed a design to^s succes.
deprive his younger brother Harun Al Ilaschid of his*jrAlHa-
right of succession, and even to assassinate him, was
poisoned by his vizier in the 170th year of the Hegira;
and on his death the celebrated caliph Harun Al Raschid
ascended the throne.
This was one of the best and wisest princes that uarail i|
ever sat on the throne of Bagdad. He was also ex-Raschidca-
tremely fortunate in all his undertakings, though he did^pk
not much extend his dominions by conquest. In his
time the Moslem empire may be said to have been in
its most flourishing state, though by the independency
of the Moslems in Spain, who had formerly set up a ca¬
liph of the house of Ommiyah, his territories were not
quite so extensive as those of some of his predecessors. n
He possessed the provinces of Syria, Palestine, Arabia, Extent of
Persia, Armenia, Natolia, Media or Aderbijan, Baby-his empire
Ionia, Assyria, Sindia, Sijistan, Khorasan, Tabrestan,
Jorjan, Zablestan or Sablestan, Mawaralnahr or Great
Bukharia, Egypt, Libya, Mauritania, &c.; so that
his empire was by far the most powerful of any in the
world, and extended farther than the Roman empire
ever had done.
The first instance of Harun’s good fortune, and He finds a
which was taken for a presage of a prosperous and r*,lS^e!iaa
happy reign, was his finding a valuable ring which he^g0^-^
had thrown into the Tigris to avoid being deprived of
it by his brother Al Hadi. He was able to give the
divers no other direction than by throwing a stone
from the bridge of Bagdad, about the same place of
the river in which he had thrown the ring j notwith¬
standing which, they found it without any great diffi-
culty. I4
In the 186th year of the Hegira, beginning Janu-Dividestk
ary 10. 802, the caliph divided the government of empire f-
his extensive dominions among his three sons, in themon^aiJj
following manner : To Al Amin the eldest, he assigned titles the
the provinces of Syria, Irak, the three Arabias, Meso-succession,
potamia, Assyria, Media, Palestine, Egypt, and all that
part of Africa extending from the confines of Egypt and
Ethiopia to the straits of Gibraltar, with the dignity of
caliph ; to Al Mamun the second, he assigned Persia,
Kerman, the Indies, Khorasan, Tabrestan, Cablestan,
and Zablestan, together with the vast province of Ma-
waralnahr j and to his third son Al Kasem, he gave
Armenia, Natolia, Jorjan, Georgia, Circassia, and all
the Moslem territories bordering upon the Euxine sea.
As to the order of succession, A] Amin was to ascend
the throne immediately after his father’s decease ; af¬
ter him, Al Mamun ; and then Al Kasem, whom he
had surnamed Al Mutaman.
1 he most considerable exploits performed by this
caliph
year of the Hegira, Al Mohdi was 9
undesianedlv. by one of his concn-A* Mohdi
B A G
,„(l.u|. caliph were against the. Greeks, w'ho by their perfidy
■j-v—provoked him to make war upon them, and whom he
15 always overcame. In the 187th year of the Hegira,
the caliph received a letter from the Greek emperor
w!s with Nicephoros, soon after he had been advanced to the im-
tWGreeks. perial dignity, commanding him to return all the money
he had extorted from the empress Irene, though that
had been secured to him by the last treaty concluded
with that princess, or expect soon to see an imperial
army in the heart of his territories. This insolent letter
so exasperated Harun, that he immediately assembled
his forces and advanced to Heraclea, laying the coun¬
try through which he passed waste with fire and sword.
For some time also he kept that city straitly besieged j
which so terrified the Greek emperor, that he submit¬
ted to pay an annual tribute. Upon this Harun grant¬
ed him a peace, and returned with his army. But a hard
frost soon after happening in these parts, Nicephorus
took for granted that A1 Rashid would not pay him
another visit, and therefore broke the treaty he had
concluded. Of this the caliph receiving advice, he in¬
stantly put himself in motion-, and, notwithstanding the
inclemency of the weather, forced the emperor to ac¬
cept of the terms proposed. According to a Persian
historian, before the hostilities at this time commenced,
Nicephorus made the caliph a present of several fine
swords, giving him thereby plainly to understand that
he was more inclinable to come to blows than to make
peace with him. All these sw’ords Harun cut asunder
with his famous sword Samsarftah, as if they had been
so many radishes, after which severe proof there did
not appear the least flaw in the blade ; a clear proof of
the goodness of the sword, as the cutting the others
with it was of the strength of Haruu’s arm. This
sword had fallen into A1 Rashid’s hands among the
spoils of Ebn Dakikan, one of the last Hamyaritic
princes of Yaman ; but is said to have belonged ori¬
ginally to a valiant Arab named Amru Ebn Maadi
Carb, by whose name it generally went among the
Moslems. This man is said to have performed very
extraordinary feats with his sword, which induced a
certain prince to borrow it from him ; but he not be¬
ing able to perform any thing remarkable with it,
complained to Amru that it had not the desired effect :
upon which that brave man took the liberty to tell
him, that he had not sent him his arm along with his
sword.
In the i88tb year of the Hegira, war was renewed
with the Greeks, and Nicephorus with a great army
attacked the caliph’s forces with the utmost fuiy. He
was, however, defeated with the loss of 40,000 men,
and received three wounds in the action; after which
the Moslems committed terrible ravages in his territo¬
ries, and returned home laden with spoils. The next year
Harun invaded Phrygia ; defeated an imperial army
sent to oppose him ; and having ravaged the country,
returned without any considerable loss. In the 190th
year of the Hegira, commencing November 27. 805,
the caliph marched into the imperial territories with an
army of 135,000 men, besides a great number of vo¬
lunteers and others who were not enrolled among his
troops. He first took the city of Heraclea, from
whence he is said to have carried 16,000 prisoners ;
after which he made himself master of several other
places : and in the conclusion of the expedition, he
[ .3*9 ]
BAG
made a descent on the island of Cyprus, which he plun- Bavtiad,
dered in a terrible manner. This success so intimida- —v——*
ted Nicephorus, that he immediately sent the tribute
due to Harun, the withholding of which had been the
cause of the war, and concluded a peace upon the ca¬
liph’s own terms ; one of which was, that the city of
Heraclea should never be rebuilt. This perhaps Ha¬
run would not have so readily granted, had not one 16
Rafe F.bn A1 Leith revolted against him at Samarcand, R-ebellicn
and assembled a considerable force to support him jninKilora'
his defection. san‘
The next year being the 191st of the Hegira, the
caliph removed the governor of Khorasan from his em-
ployment, because he had not been sufficiently attentive
to the motions of the rebel Rafe Ebn A1 Leith. As.
this governor had also tyrannized over his subjects in
the most cruel manner, his successor no sooner arrived
than he sent him in chains to the caliph ; but notwith¬
standing all Harun’s care, the rebels made this year a
great progress in the conquest of Khorasan.
Next year the caliph found it necessary to march in
person against the rebels, who were daily becoming
more formidable. The general rendezvous of his troops
was in the plains of Rakka, from whence he advanced
at the head of them to Bagdad. Having at that place
supplied the troops with every thing necessary, he con¬
tinued his march to the frontiers of Jorjan, where he
ivas seized with an illness which grew more violent after
he had entered that province. Finding himself there¬
fore unable to pursue his journey, he resigned the com¬
mand of the army to his son A1 Manuin, retiring him- (
self to Tus in Khorasan. We were told by Khondemir/rhe ca-
that, before the caliph departed from Rakka, he had aliph’s death
dream, wherein he saw a hand over his head full of red Pret^cte^
earth, and at the same time heard a person pvonouncing a c*rf!am‘
these words, “ See the earth where Harun is to be
buried.” Upon this he demanded where he was to be
buried; and was instantly answered, “ At Tus.” This
dream greatly discomposing him, he communicated it
to his chief physician, who endeavoured to divert him,
telling the caliph that the dream had been occasioned
by the thoughts of his expedition against the rebels.
He therefore advised him to pursue some favourite di¬
version that might draw his attention another way.
The caliph accordingly, by his physician’s advice, pre¬
pared a magnificent regale for his courtiers, which lasted
several days. After this, he put himself at the head
of his forces, and advanced to the confines of Jorjan,
where he was attacked by the distemper that proved
fatal to him. As his disorder increased, he found him¬
self obliged to retire to Tus ; where being arrived, he
sent for his physician, and said to him, “ Gabriel, do
you remember my dream at Rakka ? We are now ar¬
rived at Tus, the place, according to what was pre¬
dicted in that dream, of my interment. Send one of
my eunuchs to fetch me a handful of earth in the neigh¬
bourhood of this city.” Upon this, M-asrur^ one of
his favourite eunuchs, was despatched to bring a little
of the soil of the place to the caliph. He soon returned
and brought a handful of red earth, which he presented
to the caliph with his arm half bare. At the sight of
this Harun instantly cried out, “ In truth this is the
earth, and this the very arm, that I saw in my dream.”
His spirits immediately failing, and his malady being
greatly increased by the perturbation of mind ensuing
upon t
BAG
t 320 ]
BAG
tiou,
*9
Succeeded
by his son
Ai Amin.
Bagdad, upon tins sight, he died three days after, and was bu-
' ^ ried in the same place. According to Abul Faraj, Ba-
He dies ac-8^*r ^ Leith the arch rebel’s brother was brought
cording to in chains to the caliph, who was then at the point of
the predic- death. At the sight of whom Harun declared, that if
he could speak only two words he would say kill him ;
and immediately ordered him to be cut to pieces in his
presence. This being done, the caliph soon after ex¬
pired, in the year of the Hegira 193, having reigned
23 years. The distemper that put an end to his days
is said to have been the bloody flux.
Upon the arrival of a courier from Tus, with the
news of Al Rashid’s death, his son Al Amin was im¬
mediately proclaimed caliph ; and was no sooner seated
on the throne, than he formed a design of excluding his
brother Al Mamun from the succession. Accordingly
be deprived him of the furniture of the imperial palace
of Khorasan ; and in open violation of his father’s will,
who had bestowed on Al Mamun the perpetual govern¬
ment of Khorasan, and of all the troops in that province,
he ordered these forces to march directly to Bagdad.
Upon the arrival of this order, Al Mamun expostulated
with the general Al Fadl Ebn Rabbi who commanded
his troops, and endeavoured to prevent his marching to
Bagdad ; but without effect, for he punctually obeyed
the orders sent by the caliph. Al Mamun, however,
took care not to be wanting in fidelity to his brother.
Fie obliged the people of Khorasan to take an oath of
fidelity to Al Amin, and reduced some who had actual¬
ly excited a considerable body of the people to revolt,
while the general Al Fadl having ingratiated himself
with the caliph by his ready compliance with his orders,
was chosen prime vizir, and governed with an absolute
sway: Al Amin abandoning himself entirely to drun¬
kenness.
Al Fadl was a very able minister ; though fearing Al
Mamun’s resentment if ever he should ascend the throne,
he gave Al Amin such advice as proved in the end the
ruin of them both. He told him that his brother had
gained the affection of the people of Khorasan by the
good order and police he had established among them ;
that his unwearied application to the administration of
justice had so attracted their esteem, that the whole pro¬
vince was entirely at his devotion ; that his own conduct
was by no means relished by his subjects, whose minds
were almost totally alienated from him ; and therefore
that he had but one part to act, which was to deprive
Al Mamun of the right of succession that had been
given him by his father, and transfer it to his own son
Musa, though then but an infant. Agreeable to this
pernicious advice, the caliph sent for his brother Al Ka-
sem from Mesopotamia, and recalled Al Mamun from
Khorasan, pretending he had occasion for him as an
assistant in his councils.
By this treatment Al Mamun was so much provoked,
that he resolved to come to an open rupture with his
brother, in order if possible to frustrate his wicked de-
signs. Instead, therefore, of going to Bagdad as he
had been commanded, he cut off all communication be¬
tween his own province and that capital : pretending,
that as his father Harun had assigned him the lieute¬
nancy of Khorasan, Ire was responsible for all the dis¬
orders that might happen there during his absence.
He also coined money, and would not suffer Al Amin’s
same to be impressed upon any of the dirhems, or di-‘
Bagdad.
ao
Infamous
behaviour
of the new
caliph.
at
Al Mamun
takes up
arms a-
gainst bis
brother.
nars struck in that province. Not content with this,
he prevailed upon Rafe Ebn Al Leith, who had been
for some time in rebellion, to join him with a body
of troops ; whose example was soon after followed by
Harthema Ebn Aafan j which put him in possession
of all the vast territory of Khorasan. Here he go¬
verned with an absolute sway, officiated in the mosque
as Imam, and from the pulpit constantly harangued the
people.
The following year, being the 195th year of the
Hegira, beginning October 4. 810, the caliph At
Amin, finding that his brother set him at defiance, de¬
clared war against him, and sent his general All Ebn
Isa with an army of 60,000 men to invade Khorasan. 22
Al Mamun, being informed that Ali was advancing Al Amin's
against him with such a powerful army, put on foot forces de.
all the troops he could raise, and gave the command tofeateJ‘
Thaher Ebn Hosein, one of the greatest generals of his
age. Thaher being a man of undaunted resolution,
chose only 4000 men, whom he led against Al Amin’s
army. Ali, seeing so small a number of troops advan¬
cing against him, was transported with joy, and pro¬
mised himself an easy victory. Despising his enemies,
therefore, he behaved in a secure and careless manner ;
the consequence of which was, that his army was en¬
tirely defeated, and himself killed, his head being af¬
terwards sent as a present to Al Mamun, who amply
rewarded Thaher and Harthema for their services.
After this victory, Al Mamun assumed the title of
caliph, ordered Al Amin’s name to be omitted in the
public prayers, and made all necessary preparations for
carrying the war into the very heart of his brother’s
dominions. For this purpose he divided his forces into
two bodies, and commanded them to march into Irak
by different routes. One of them obeyed the orders of
Thaher, and the other of Harthema. The first directed
his march towards Ahwas, and the other towards Hol-
wan, both of them proposing to meet in the neighbour¬
hood of Bagdad, and after their junction to besiege that
city. _ 23
In the 196th year of the Hegira, Thaher Ebn Ho-^'M1'
sein made a most rapid progress with the troops under raulisra.,>^
his command. Having advanced towards Ahwas, he 1
there defeated a body of the caliph’s forces $ and
though the victory was by no means decisive, it so in¬
timidated the commander of Ahwas, that he thought
fit to surrender that fortress to him. This opened him
a way to Waset upon the Tigris, and facilitated the
conquest of that place. After this he marched with
his army to Al Madayen ; the inhabitants of which
immediately opened their gates to him. The rapidity
of these conquests, and the infamous conduct of Al
Amin, excited the people of Egypt, Syria, Hejaz,
and Yaman, unanimously to declare for Al Mamun j
who was accordingly proclaimed caliph in all these pro¬
vinces.
The next year, Al Mamun’s forces under ThaberSiege of
and Harthema, laid siege to Bagdad. As the caliph Bagdad,
was shut up in that place, and it had a numerous gar¬
rison, the besieged made a vigorous defence, and de¬
stroyed a great number of their enemies. The besiegers,
however, incessantly played upon the town with their
catapults and other engines, though they were in their
turn not a little annoyed by the garrison with the same
sort of military machines. The lattey likewise made
continual
BAG
Bagdad.
^ continual sallies, and fought like men m despair, though
they were always at last beaten back into the town
with considerable loss. In short the siege continued
during the whole of this year, in which the greatest
part of the eastern city, called the Camp of Al Mohclt,
was demolished or reduced to ashes. The citizens as
well as the garrison, were reduced to the last extremity,
by the length and violence of the siege.
In the beginning of the 198th year of the Hegira,
Al Amin finding himself deserted bv llis troops, as
well as by the principal men of Bagdad, who had kept
a private correspondence with Thaher, was obliged to
retire to the old town on the west bank of the Tigris.
He did not, however, take this step, before the inhabi¬
tants of the new town had formally deposed him, and
proclaimed his brother Al Mamun caliph. Thaher,
receiving advice of this, caused the old town to be im¬
mediately invested, planted his engines against it, and
at last starved it to surrender. Al Amin being thus
reduced to the necessity of putting himself into the
hands of one of the generals, chose to implore the pro¬
tection of Harthema, whom he judged to be of a more
humane disposition than Thaher. Having obtained
this, he embarked in a small vessel in order to arrive at
that part of the camp where Harthema was posted ; but
[ 321 ]
B ,A G
the beginning of his reign he was obliged to employ Bar»ciat{
the whole forces of his empire against one Babec, who < ?v- ' ■
had been for a considerable time in rebellion in Persia
and 1 eisian Irak. Ihis Babec first appeared in the^ai ^c“
year of the Hegira 201, when he began to take upon J-!<,
him the title of a prophet. W hat his particular doc-Al Mou-
tune was, is now unknown 5 but his religion is said tosem and
have differed from all others then known in Asia. HeBabec-
gained a great number of proselytes in Aderbijan and
the Persian Irak, where he soon grew powerful enough
to wage war with the caliph Al Mamun, whose troops
he often beat, so that he w7as now become extremely
formidable. The general sent by Al Motasem to re¬
duce him was Haider Ebn Kaus, surnamed Afshin, a
lurk by nation, who had been brought a slave to the
caliph’s court, and having been employed in discipli¬
ning the Turkish militia there, had acquired the repu¬
tation of a great captain. By him Babec was defeated
with prodigious slaughter, no fewer than 6o,oco menBabecde-
being killed in the first engagement. The next year,feaud.
being the 220th of the Hegira, he received a still
greater overthrow, losing 100,000 men either killed
or taken prisoners. By this defeat he was obliged
to retire into the Gordyaean mountains $ where he
fortified himself in such a manner, that Afshin found
'r„alK, infeed of hi» desi^
„„'>Ugl'l.W°U!-ie'!TSe l1’.6, s!0r5'.he, This commander having reduced with invincible
ii Amin
ordered.
25
Speeded
bM Ma-
«i.
,,, *7
* >rasan
d i tem-
d from
them,
pi
i
z8
®rih of
(amuu
acquired, laid an ambush for him, which he had not
the good fortune to escape. Upon his arrival in the
neighbourhood of Harthema’s tent, Timber’s soldiers
rushed upon him, drowned all his attendants, and put
himself in prison. Here he was soon after massacred
by i halier s servants, who carried his head in triumph
to their master, by whose order it was afterwards expos¬
ed to public view in the streets of Bagdad. Thaher
afterwards sent to Al Mamun in Khorasan, together
with the ring or seal of the caliphate, the sceptre and
the imperial robe. At the sight of these, Al Mamun
tell down on his knees, and returned thanks to God for
his success 5 making the courier who brought them a
present of a million of dirhems, in value about ioo,oool.
sterling.
i sfme da7 Al Amin was assassinated, his
brother Al Mamun was proclaimed caliph at Bagdad.
He had not long been seated on the throne when be
was alarmed by rebellions breaking out in different parts
ot the empire. These, however, were at last happily ex¬
tinguished ; after which, Thaher Ebn Hosein had the
government of Khorasan conferred upon him and his
descendants with almost absolute and unlimited power.
I bis happened in the 205th year of the Hegira, from
which time we may date the dismemberment of that
province from the empire of the caliphs.
During the reign of this caliph nothing remarkable
lappened, only the African Moslems invaded the
island of Sicily, where they made themselves masters ef
several places. He died of a surfeit in the 218th year
ot the Hegira, having reigned 20, and lived 48 or 40
years. n
On the death of Al Mamun, his brother Al Mota¬
sem, by some of the oriental historians surnamed
was saluted caliph. He succeeded by virtue of A]
Mamun s express nomination of him, to tire exclusion of
u <TnJS0In Al Abbas &nd his other brother Al Kasem,
Who had been appointed by Harun Al Raschid. In
Vol. III. Part I. f
patience all Babec’s castles one after another, the im¬
postor was obliged to shut himself up in a strong for¬
tress called Cas/iabad, which was now his last resource.
Here he defended himself with great bravery for seve¬
ral months; but at last finding be should be obliged
to surrender, he made his escape into a neighbourino-
wood, from whence he soon after came to Afshin, upon 3r
that general’s promising him pardon. But Afshin no^^011 pri-
sooner had him in his power, than he first caused hissonerand
hands and feet, and afterwards his head, to be cut off.
Babec had supported himself against the power of the ^ ’’
caliphs for upwards of 20 years, during which time 32
he had cruelly massacred 250,000 people ; it being hisHedestroy-
custom to spare neither man, woman, nor child, of theed v,ast
Mahometans or their allies. Amongst the prisoners *
taken at Cashabad there was one Nud, who had been ° Uh
one of Babec’s executioners, and who owned that in
obedience to his master’s commands he had destroyed
20,000 Moslems with his own hands; to which he add¬
ed, that vast numbers had also been executed by his
companions, but that of these he could give no precise
account.
In the 223d year of the Hegira, the Greek emperor
Theophilus invaded the caliph’s territories, 'where he
behaved with the greatest cruelty, and by destroying
Sozopetra the place of Al Motasem’s nativity, not¬
withstanding his earnest entreaties to the contrary, oc¬
casioned the terrible destruction of Amorium mentioned
under that article. The rest of this caliph’s reign is re¬
markable for nothing but the execution of Afshin, who
was accused of holding correspondence with the caliph’s
enemies. After his death a great number of idols were
found in his house, which were immediately burned, as
also several books said to contain impious and detestable
opinions. ^
In the 227th year of the Hegira died the caliph Al Heath of
Motasem, in the 48th or 49th year of his age. E|eAIMottt-
reigned eight years eight months and eight days, was**1 * * *"'
S s bora
BAG
Bag-dad.
34
He built
the city of
Sarra
Man ray.
., 35
His suc¬
cessors A1
Watliek
and Al
Motavvak-
kel.
36
Monstrous
cruelty of
Al Mota-
wakkeJ.
.37
He is as¬
sassinated.
3 s
Hard fate
of Al Mo-
tazz,a
succeeding
caliph.
[ 32
Lorn in the eighth month of the year, fought eight
battles, had Booo slaves, and had 8,000,000 dinars and
80,000 dirhems in his treasury at his death ; whence
the oriental historians gave him the name of Al Motha-
man, or the Octonary. He i> said to have been so ro¬
bust, that he once carried a burden of 1000 pounds
weight several paces. As the people of Bagdad dis¬
turbed him with frequent revolts and commotions, he
took the resolution to abandon that city, and build
another for his own residence. The new city he built
was first called Samarra, and afterwards Sari'a Manray,
and stood in the Arabian Irak. He was attached to
the opinion of the Motazalites, who maintain the cre¬
ation of the Koran ; and both he and his predecessor
cruelly persecuted those who believed it to be eternal.
Al Motasem was Succeeded by Al Wathek Bilah,
who, the following year, being the 228th of the Hegira,
invaded and conquered Sicily. Nothing remarkable
happened during the rest of his reign ; he died in the
23 2d year of the Hegira, and was succeeded by his
brother Al Motawakkel.
The new caliph began his reign with an act of the
greatest cruelty. The late caliph’s vizir having treat¬
ed Al Motawakkel ill in his brothei’’s lifetime, and op¬
posed his election to the caliphate, was on that account
now sent to prison. Here the caliph ordered him to
be kepi: awake for several days and nights together :
after this, being suffered to fall asleep, he slept a whole
day and night; and after he awoke was thrown into
an iron furnace lined with spikes or nails heated red
hot, where he was miserably burnt to death. During
this reign nothing remarkable happened, except wars
with the Greeks, which were carried on with various
success. In the year 859 too, being the 245th of the
Hegira, violent earthquakes happened in many provin¬
ces of the Moslem dominions $ and the springs at Mec¬
ca failed to such a degree, that the celebrated well
Zemzem was almost dried up, and the water sold for
t oo dirhems a bottle.
In the 247th year of the Hegira, the caliph was as¬
sassinated at the instance of his son Al Montaser; who
succeeded him, and died in six months after. He was
succeeded by Al Mostain, who in the year of the He¬
gira 252 was forced to abdicate the throne by his bro¬
ther Al Motazz, who afterwards caused him to be pri¬
vately murdered. He did not long enjoy the dignity
of which he had so iniquitously possessed himself j be¬
ing deposed by the Turkish militia (who now began to
set up and depose caliphs as they pleased) in the 255th
year of the Hegira. After his deposition he was sent
under an escort from Sarra Ma nray to Bagdad, where
he died of thirst or hunger, after a reign of four years
and about seven months. The fate of this caliph was
peculiarly hard : the Turkish troops had mutinied for
their pay; and Al Motazz, not having money to satisfy
their demands, applied to his mother named Kabiha
for 50,000 dinars. This she refused, telling him that
she had no money at all, although it afterwards appear¬
ed that she was possessed of immense treasures. After
his deposition, however, she was obliged to discover
them, and even deposite them in the hands of the new
caliph Al Mokhtadi. They consisted of 1,000,000
dinars, a bushel of emeralds, and another of pearls, and
three pounds and three quarters of rubies of the colour
of fire.
2 ] BAG
Al Mokhtadi, the new caliph, was the son of one of Bagdad.
Al Wathek’s concubines named Korb, or Karb, who   
is by some supposed to have been a Christian. The be-, 3.9
ginning of his reign is remarkable for the irruption of 0f theZea
the Zenjians, a people of Nubia, Ethiopia, and thejiansin
country of the Caffres, into Arabia, where they penetra-tl,e reign
ted into the neighbourhood of Basra and Cufa. The
chief of this gang of robbers, who, according to some*0 au’
of the Arab historians, differed but little from wild
beasts, was Ali Ebn Mohammed Ebn Abdalrahman,
who falsely gave himself out to be of the family of Ali
Ebn Abu Taleb. This made such an impression upon
the Shiites in those parts, that they flocked to him in
great numbers ; which enabled him to seize upon the
cities of Basra and Bamla, and even to pass the Tigris
at the head of a formidable army. He then took the
title of Prince of the Zenjians, in order to ingratiate
himself with those barbarians, of whom his army was
principally composed.
In the 256th year of the Heigra, Al Mokhtadi was
barbarously murdered by the Turks who had raised
him to the throne, and was succeeded by Al Monta-
med the son of Al Motawakkel. This year the prince ,0
of the Zenjians, Ali, or as he is also called Al Al Habib'a
made incursions to the very gates of Bagdad, doing succe}s>
prodigious mischief wherever he passed. The caliph
therefore sent against him one Jolan with a consider¬
able army j he was overthrown, however, with very
great slaughter by the Zenjian, who made himself
master of 24 of the caliph’s largest ships in the bay
of Basra, put a vast number of the inhabitants of Obol-
la to the sword, and seized upon the town. Not con¬
tent with this, he set fire to it, and soon reduced it to
ashes, the houses mostly consisting of the wood of a
certain plane tree called by the Arabians Scj. From
thence he marched to Abadan, which likewise sur¬
rendered to him. Here he found immense treasure,
which he enabled him to possess himself of the whole
district of Ahwaz. In short, his forces being now in¬
creased to 80,000 strong, most of the adjacent terri¬
tories, and even the caliph’s court itself, were struck
with terror.
In the 257th year of the Hegira. Al Habib conti¬
nued victorious, defeated several armies sent against
him by the caliph, reduced the city of Basra, and put
20,000 of the inhabitants to the sword. The follow¬
ing year, the caliph, supported by his brother Al Mo-
waffek, had formed a design of circumscribing the
power of the Turkish soldiery, who had for some time
given law to the caliphs themselves. But this year the
Zenjians made so rapid a progress in Persia, Arabia,
and Irak, that lie was obliged to suspend the execution
of his design, and even to employ the Turkish troops
to assist his brother Al Mowaffek in opposing these rob¬
bers. The first of the caliph’s generals who encountered
Al Habib this year, was defeated in several engage¬
ments, and had bis army at last entirely destroyed. Af¬
ter this Al Mowaffek and another general named Mos-
leh, advanced against him. In the first engagement
Mosleh being killed by an arrow, the caliph’s troops
retired ; hut Al Mowaffek put them afterwards in such
a posture of defence, that the enemy durst not renew
the attack. Several other sharp encounters happened
this year, in which neither party gained great advan¬
tage ) but, at last, some contagious distempers breaking
out
BAG
41
“hellion
Fare,
iwaz,
d Basra.
Bagdad, out in A1 Mowaffek’s army, he was obliged to conclude
—v—^ a truce, and retire to Waset to refresh his troops.
In the 259th year of the Hegira, commencing Nov. 7.
872, the war between the caliph and A1 Habib still
continued. A1 Mqwaffek, upon his arrival at Bagdad,
sent Mohammed surnamed Al Mowalled with a powei'-
ful army to act against the Zenjians ; but he could not
hinder them from ravaging the province of Ahwaz, cut¬
ting off about 50,000 of the caliph’s subjects, and dis¬
mantling the city of Ahwaz; and notwithstanding the
utmost efforts of all the caliph’s generals, no consider¬
able advantages could be gained either this or the fol¬
lowing year.
In the 261st year of the Hegira, beginning October
16. 874, Mohammed Ebn Wasel, who had killed the
caliph’s governor of Fars, and afterwards made himself
master of that province, had several engagements with
Al Habib, but with what success is not known. The
caliph, having been apprised of the state of affairs on
that side, annexed the government of Fars, Ahwaz,
and Basra, to the prefecture he had given to Musa Ebn
Baga, whom he looked upon as one of the best gene¬
rals he had. Musa, soon after his nomination to that
post, sent Abdalrahman Ebn Mosleh as his deputy to
Ahwaz, giving him as a colleague and assistant one Ti-
sam, a Turk. Mohammed Ebn Wasel, however, refu¬
sing to obey the orders of Abdalrahman and Tisam, a
fierce conflict ensued, in which the latter was defeated,
and Abdalrahman taken prisoner. After this victory,
Mohammed advanced against Musa Ebn Baga himself;
but that general finding he could not take possession of
his new government without a vast effusion of blood, re¬
called the deputies from their provinces, and made the
best of his way to Sarra Manray. After this, Yakub
Ebn Al Eeit, having taken Khorasan from the descend¬
ants of Thaher, attacked and defeated Mohammed Ebn
Wasel, seizing on his palace, where he found a sum of
money amounting to 40,000,000 dirhems.
The next year Yakub Ebn Leit being grown for¬
midable by the acquisition of Ahwaz and a considerable
portion of Fars, or at least the Persian Irak, declared
war against the caliph. Against him Al Motamed de¬
spatched Al Mowaffek ; who having defeated him with
prodigious slaughter, plundered his camp, and pursued
him into Khorasan ; where meeting with no opposition,
he entered Nisabur, and released Mahomet the Tha-
herian, whom Yakub had detained in prison -three
years. As for Yakub himself, he made his escape with
great difficulty, though he and his family continued se¬
veral years in possession of many of the conquests he had
made. This war with Yakub proved a seasonable di¬
version in favour of A! Habib, who this year defeated
all the forces sent against him, and ravaged the district
of Waset.
The following year, being the 263d of the Hegira,
beginning September 24. 876, the caliph’s forces, under
the command of Ahmed Ebn Eebuna, gained two con¬
siderable advantages over Al Habib ; but being at last
drawn into an ambuscade, they were almost totally de¬
stroyed, their general himself making his escape with
the utmost difficulty ; nor were the caliph’s forces able,
during the course of the next year, to make the least
impression upon these rebels.
In the 265th year of the Hegira, beginning Septem¬
ber 3. 878, Ahmed Ebn Tolun rebelled against the
[ 323 1
BAG
4*
1 bels de-
f ted, but
cinot be
liuced.
labih
*t ricto-
4:s.
caliph, and set up for himself in Egypt. Having as- Bagdad,
sembled a considerable force, he marched to Antioch, w—v—
and besieged Sima the governor of Aleppo and all the 44.
provinces known among the Arabs by the name of Al
Awasem, in that city. As the besieged found that he which’can¬
vas resolved to carry the place by assault, they thought not be sup-
fit, after a short defence, to submit, and to put Sima P^^ed.
into his hands. Ahmed no sooner had that officer in
his power, than he caused him to he beheaded ; after
which he advanced to Aleppo, the gates of which were
immediately opened unto him. Soon after, he reduced
Damascus, Hems, Hamath, Kinnisrin, and Al Rakka,
situated upon the eastern bank of the Euphrates. This
rebellion so exasperated Al Motamed, that he caused
Ahmed to be publicly cursed in all the mosques belong¬
ing to Bagdad and Irak ; and Ahmed on his part or¬
dered the same malediction to be thundered out against
the caliph in all the mosques within his jurisdiction.
This year also a detachment of Al Habib’s troops pe¬
netrated into Irak, and made themselves masters of
four ot the caliph’s ships laden with corn; then they
advanced to Al Nomanic, laid the greatest part of it in
ashes, and carried off with them several of the inhabi¬
tants prisoners. After this they possessed themselves of
Jarjaraya, where they found many prisoners more, and
destroyed all the adjacent territory with fire and sword. 45
l his year there were four independent powers in the F°lu'bide-
Moslem dominions, besides the house of Ommiyah in Pen(Ient.
Spain, viz. the African Moslems, or Aglabites, who
had for a long time acted independently ; Ahmed in nommaldu-
Syria and Egypt; Al Leit in Khorasan ; and Al Ha- minions,
bib in Arabia and Irak.
In the 266th year of the Hegira, beginning August
23* 879, Al Habib reduced Ramhormoz, burnt the
stately mosque there to the ground, put a vast num¬
ber of the inhabitants to the sword, and carried away
great numbers, as well as a vast quantity of spoil.—
This was his last successful campaign ; for the year fol-Al Habib’s
lowing, Al Mowaffek, attended by his son Abul Ah-bad success
bas, having attacked him with a body of 10,000 horseand deatl>*
and a few infantry, notwithstanding the vast disparity
of numbers (Al Habib’s army amounting to 100,000
men), defeated him in several battles, recovered most of
the towns he had taken, together with an immense
quantity of spoil, and released 5000 women that had
been thrown into prison by these barbarians. After
these victories, Al Mowaffek took post before the citv
of Al Mabiya’, built by Al Habib, and the place of his
residence ; burnt all the ships in the harbour ; thorough¬
ly pillaged the town ; and then entirely dismantled it.
After the reduction of this place, in which lie found
immense treasures, Al Mowaffek pursued the flying
Zenjians, put several of their chiefs to the sword, and
advanced to Al Mokhtara, a city built by Al Habib.
As the place was strongly fortified, and Al Habib was
posted in his neighbourhood, with an army, according
to Abu Jaafer Al Tabari, of 300,000 men, Al Mowaf¬
fek perceived that the reduction of it would be a mat¬
ter of some difficulty. He therefore built a fortress
opposite to it, where he erected a mosque, and coined
money. The new city, from its founder, was called bv
the Arabs Al Moiuaffekkia, and soon rendered consider¬
able by the settlement of several wealthy merchants
there. The city of Al Mokhtara being reduced to
great straits, was at last taken by storm, and given up to
- S s 2 be'
BAG [ 324 ]
by the caliph’s troops j after which A1 able as himself.
BAG
Bagdad, be plundered  r._ n  r_ ,      
y~——' Mowaffek defeated the numerous forces of A1 Habib in
such a manner, that they could no more be rallied du¬
ring that campaign.
The following year, being the 268th of the Hegira,
A1 Mowaffek penetrated again into A1 Mabiya’, and
demolished the fortifications which had been raised since
its former reduction, though the rebels disputed every
inch of ground. Next year he again attacked A1 Ha¬
bib with great bravery ; and would have entirely de¬
feated him, had he not been wounded in the breast
with an arrow, which obliged him to sound a retreat.
However, as soon as he was cured of his wound, Al
Mowaffek advanced a third time to Al Mabiya’, made
himself master of that metropolis, threw down the
walls that had been raised, put many of the inhabitants
to the sword, and carried a vast number of them into
captivity.
Ihe 270th year of the Hegira, commencing July ir.
883, proved fatal to the rebel Al Habib. Al Mowaf¬
fek made himself a fourth time master of Al Mabiya’,
burnt Al Habib’s palace, seized upon bis family, and
sent them to Sarra Manray. As for the usurper him¬
self, he had the good fortune to escape at this time; but
being closely pursued by Al Mowaffek into the province
of Ahwaz, where the shattered remains of his forces
were entirely defeated, he at last fell into the hands of
the victor, who ordered his head to be cut off, and car¬
ried through a great part of that region which he had
so long disturbed. By this complete victory Al Mowaf¬
fek obtained the title of Al Nasir Lidmilba/i, that is,
t/ie protector oj Mahometanism. This year also died
Ahmed Tbn lolun, who had seized upon Eirypt and
Syria, as we haje already observed ; and was succeed¬
ed by his son Khamarawiyah.
Jhe next year, a bloody engagement happened be¬
tween the caliph’s forces commanded by Al Mowaff'ek’s
son, and those of Khamarawiyah, who had made an
irruption into the caliph’s territories. The battle was
fought between Al Ramla and Damascus. In the be¬
ginning, Khamarawiyah found himself so hard pressed,
that his men were obltged to give way ; upon which,
taking for granted that all was lost, he fled with great
precipitation, even to the borders of Egypt; but, in
the mean time, his troops being ignorant of the flight
of their general, returned to the charge, and gained a
complete victory. After this, Khamarawiyab, by his
just and mild administration, so gained the affections of
bis subjects, that the caliph found it impossible to gain
the least advantage over him. In the 276th year of
ihe Hegira, he. overthrew one of the caliph’s generals
named Abul Saj, at Al Bathnia near the city of Da¬
mascus ; after which he advanced to Al llakka on the
Euphrates, and made himself master of that place.
Having annexed several large provinces to his former
dominions, and left some of his friends in whom he
could confide to govern them, be then returned into
Egypt, the principal part of his empire, which now
extended from the Euphrates to the borders of Nubia
and Ethiopia.
The following year, being the 278th of the Hegira
was remarkable for the death of Al Mowaffek. He
47
Success of
the Sultan
of Egypt.
48
Al Mowaf
fek dies.
died of the elephantiasis, or leprosy and while *in his
lats illness, could not help observing, that of 100,000
men whom he commanded, there was not one so mise-
This year is also remarkable for the Bagdad,
first disturbances raised in the Moslem empire by the ~v’—L
Karmatians. The origin of this sect is not certainly
known; but the most common opinion is, that a poor Origin 0f
fellow, by some called Karmata, came from Khuzestan^e Kar.
to the villages near Cufa, and there pretended greatniatiani’*
sanctity and strictness of life, and that God had enjoin¬
ed him to pray 50 times a-day ; pretending also to in¬
vite people to the obedience of a certain imam of the
family of Mahomet; and this way of life he continued
till he had made a very great party, out of whom he
chose twelve as his apostles to govern the rest, and to
propagate his doctrines. He also assumed the title of
prince, and obliged every one of his earlier followers to
pay him a dinar a-year. But Al Haidam, the gover*
nor of that province, finding men neglected their work,
and their husbandry in particular, to say those 50 pray¬
ers a-day, seized the fellow, and having put him in pri¬
son, swore that he should die. This being overheard
by a girl belonging to the governor, she, out of compas¬
sion, took the key of the dungeon at night from under
her master’s head, released the man, and restored the
key to its place while her master slept. The next
morning the governor found his prisoner gone ; and the
accident being publicly known, raised great admira¬
tion ; Karmata’s adherents giving out that God had
taken him into heaven. After this he appeared in an¬
other province, and declared to a great number of peo¬
ple he got about him, that it was not in the power of
any person to do him hurt; notwithstanding which, his
courage failing him, he retired into Syria, and was ne¬
ver heard of any more. After his disappearance, the
sect continued and increased ; his disciples pretending
that their master had manifested himself to be a true
prophet, and had left them a new law, wherein he had
changed the ceremonies and form of prayer used by the
Moslems, &c. From this year, 278, these sectaries
gave almost continual disturbance to the caliphs and
their subjects, committing great disorders in Chaldaea,
Arabia, and Mesopotamia, and at length established a
considerable principality.
*  r j - 30
In the 279th year of the Hegira died the caliph Al Sultan
f A f Q m & rl • or»rl ^ -I1  Al A. /f _ . ..j j .Egypt’*
Motamed ; and was succeeded by A1 Motaded, son to ?
Al Mowakeff. The first year of his reign, Al Motaded mam'cd io
demanded in marriage the daughter of Khamarawiyab, tbe caliph
sultan, or caliph, of Egypt; which was agreed to byAlMotad-
him with the utmost joy, and their nuptials were so-6^'
lemnized with great pomp in the 282d year of the
Hegira. He carried on a war with the Karmatians;
but very unsuccessfully, his forces being defeated with
great slaughter, and his general Al Abbas taken pri¬
soner. This caliph also granted to Harun, son to
Khamarawiyah, the perpetual prefecture of Awasam
and Kinnisrin, which he annexed to that of Egypt and
Syria, upon condition that he paid him an annual tri¬
bute. of 45,000 dinars. He died in the year of the
Hegira 289, and was succeeded by his son Al Moc-
tasi.
This caliph proved a warlike and successful prince. Egypt, &R
lie gained several advantages over the Karmatians, but recovered
was not. able to reduce them. The Turks, however,
aving invaded the province of Mawaralnahr, were\wtasi-
defeated with great slaughter; after which Al Moctasi*
can iet on a successful war against the Greeks, from
10m he took Seleucia. After thi& he invaded Syria
and
BAG [ -525 1 BAG
3aa'dad. and Egypt, which provinces he recovered from the
house of Ahmed Ebn Tolun.
stressed reduction Egypt happened in the 2p2d year
teaf the °f Hegira, after which the war was renewed with
ih'plis af- success against the Greeks and Karmatians. The ca-
I his liph died in the 295th year of the Hegira, after a reign
‘ith’ of about six years and a half. He was the last of the
caliphs who made any figure by their warlike exploits.
His successors A1 Moktader, A1 Kaher, and A1 Radi,
were so distressed by the Karmatians and numberless
usurpers who were every day starting up, that by the
325th year of the Plegira they had nothing left but the
city of Bagdad. In the 324th year of the Hegira,
commencing November 30. 935, the caliph A1 Radi,
finding himself distressed on all sides by usurpers, and
53 having a vizir of no capacity, instituted a new office
} w office superior to that of vizir, which he entitled Um/r Al
( raTsd ®mra,> or C°mmandant of commandants. This great
ti;d by Al °®<;er was trusted with the management of all military
Mi, affairs, and bad the entire management of the finances
in a much more absolute and unlimited manner than
any of the caliphs vizirs ever had. Nay, he officiated
for the caliph in the great mosque at Bagdad, and had
his name mentioned in the public prayers throughout
the kingdom. In short, the caliph was so much under
the power of this officer, that he could not apply a
54 single dinar to his own use without the leave of the E-
II ision of mir Al Omra. In the year 325, the Moslem empire,
•iirein 0nce 80 great antl Powerful, was shared among the fol-
til3*5th lowJng usurpers.
3 r of the The cities of Waset, Basra, and Cufa, with the rest
H;iia. of the Arabian Irak, were considered as the property of
the Emir Al Omra, though they had been in the be¬
ginning of the year seized upon by a rebel called Al
Bandiy who could not be driven out of them.
Ihe country of Ears, Farsestan, or Persia properly so
called, was possessed by Amado’ddawla Ali Ebn Buiya,
who resided in the city of Shiraz.
Part of the tract denominated AUebal, together with
Persian Irak, which is the mountainous part of Persia,
and the country of the ancient Parthians, obeyed Ruc-
no’ddawla, the brother of Amado’ddawla, who resided
at Ispahan. The ether’ part of that country was possess¬
ed by Wasbmakin the Deylamite.
Di var Rabia, Diyar Beer, Diyar Modar, and the city
of Al Mawsel, or Mosul, acknowledged for their sove¬
reigns a race of princes called Hamdankes.
Egypt and Syria no longer obeyed the caliphs, but
Mahomet Ebn Taj, who had formerly been appointed
governor of these provinces.
Africa and Spain had long been independent.
Sicily and Crete were governed by princes of their own.
Ihe provinces of Khorasan and Mawaralnahr, were
under the dominion of Al Nasr Ebn Ahmedj of the
dynasty of the Sammarians.
Uie provinces of labrestan, Jor jan or Georgia, and
Mazanderan, had kings of the first dynasty of the Dey-
lamites.
1 he province of Kerman was occupied by Abu Ali
Mahomet Ebn Eylia Al Sammani* who had made him¬
self master of it a short time before. And,
Lastly, the provinces ofYamama and Bahrein, in¬
cluding the district of Hajr, were in the possession of
Abu Thaher the Karmatian.
Thus the caliphs were deprived of all their domini- Bagdad,
ons, and reduced to the rank of sovereign pontiff's j in «,
which light, though they continued for some time to be
regarded by the neighbouring princes* yet their power
never arrived at any height.. In this low state the ca- 55
liphs continued till the year of the Hegira 656', com-
mencing January 8. 1258. This year was rendered
remarkable by the taking of Bagdad by Hulaku thetars,
Mogul or Tartar; who likewise abolished the caliphate,
putting the reigning caliph Al Mostasem Bilah to a
most cruel death. These diabolical conquerors, after
they had taken the city, massacred, according to custom,
a vast number of the inhabitants ; and after they had
plundered it, set it on fire. The spoil they took from
thence was prodigiously great, Bagdad being then look¬
ed upon as the fii’st city in the world.
Bagdad remained in the hands of the Tartars or History of
Moguls to the year of the Hegira 795, of Christ 1392, Me city
when it was taken by Tamerlane from Sultan AhmedSlnce Mat
Ebn Weis; who being incapable of making head a-Ume‘
gainst Tamerlane’s numerous forces, found himself ob¬
liged to send all his baggage over the Tigris, and
abandoned his capital to the conqueror. He was, how¬
ever, hotly pursued by his enemy’s detachments to the
plain of Karbella, where several skirmishes happened,
and a considerable number of men were lost on both
sides* Notwithstanding this disaster, he found means
to escape the fury of his pursuers, took x’efuge in the
territories of the Greek emperor, and afterwards re¬
possessed himself of the city of Bagdad. There he re¬
mained till the year of the Hegira 803, when the city
was taken a second time by Tamerlane; who never¬
theless restored it to him, and he continued sovereign
of the place till driven from thence by Miram Shaw.
Still, however, he found means to return ; but in the
815th year of the Hegira was finally expelled by Kara
Yusef the Turcoman. The descendants of Kara Yusef
continued masters of Bagdad till the year of the Hegi¬
ra 875, of Christ 1470, when they were driven out by
Usun Cassun. The family of this prince continued till
the year of the Hegira 914, of our Lord 1508* when
Shah Ishmael, surnamed Safi or Soft, the first prince
of the royal family reigning in Iran, or Persia, till the
dethroning of the late Shah Hosein, made himself mas¬
ter of it. From that time to this Bagdad has conti¬
nued to be a bone of contention between the Turks
and Persians. It was taken by Soliman surnamed the
Magnificent, and retaken by Shah Abbas the Great,,
king of Persia ; but being at length besieged by Amruth
or Morad IV. with a formidable army, it was finally ob¬
liged to surrender to him in the year 1638; since which
time the Persians have never been able to make them¬
selves masters of it for any length of time*
The city is large and populous ; and the advantage^ pr^.eat
of the Tigris is considerable, with regard to commerce. state.
The climate is excessively hot, and in other respects
far from being agreeable. The number of its inhabi¬
tants is probably from 60,000 to 90,000 ; but earlier
writers carry it as high as 300,000; and Mr Eton in
his Survey, states, that it had fallen even so low as 20,000
after the plague in 1773. The bashaw is continually
extorting money from the poor inhabitants, and none
suffer more than the unfortunate Jews and Christians,
many of whom are put to the most cruel tortures in
order
BAG [ ^26 ] BAG
Bagdad, order to force their property from them. This series
 i/——^ of tyranny and oppression has almost entirely driven
them out of the city ; in consequence of which the
trade must suffer very considerably, they being gene¬
rally the principal merchants in the place. In the
months of June, July, and August, the weather is so
extremely hot, as to oblige the inhabitants to live for
these months in subterraneous apartments, wffiich are
arched over, to admit the free circulation of the air.
The houses are generally large, built of brick and ce¬
ment, and are arched over. Many of the windows are
made of elegant Venetian glass ; the ceilings are most¬
ly ornamented with a kind of chequered work, which
has generally a noble appearance ; most of the houses
have a court-yard before them, in the middle of which
is a little plantation of orange trees, &c. that has a
very pleasing effect. The soil, which would produce
not only every conveniency in life, but almost every
luxury, is through the natural indolence of the Turks,
and the many faults in the government of the country,
in a great measure uncultivated and neglected. The
revenues are computed at 125 lacks of piastres, or
1,562,500k sterling : but a quarter part of this is not
collected, owing to the slothfulness of the Turks, who
suffer the Arabs to plunder them of the remainder*
This in some measure accounts for the cruelties and
extortions that are continually practised here. As the
bashaw lives in all the splendour of a sovereign prince,
and maintains a very large army, he could not be able
to defray his expences, was he not to have recourse to
oppression and injustice $ and he, by his extensive
power, acting almost independent of the Porte, only
acknowledges it to bring in a balance from thence year¬
ly in his favour.
The baz,ai-s or markets here are large and extensive;
being covered over with arches built of masonry, and
divided into different streets, filled with shops of all
kinds of merchandise, to the number of 1200. E-
very thing an Asiatic can have occasion for may be had
there, though a European has many wants which could
not be supplied. Each house and shop pay an annual
tribute to the bashaw, which produces a very consider¬
able sum. Besides the revenue derived from this source,
the bashaw exacts large sums under the pretext of their
being necessary to keep the fortifications in repair,
though very little is actually expended on such objects.
Likewise clearing the river and mending the bridge
become a charge greater than their income, and proba¬
bly not the value of an English shilling is expended.——
to support the expence of the seraglio, their clothes,
caparisons of their horses, and every outward pomp,
the amount is considerable.
On the north side of the town stands the citadel
which commands the river ; and consists of curtains
and bastions, on which some very long cannon are
mounted, with two mortars in each bastion, placed
on no other beds than the ground, and in very bad
condition. The carriages of the guns are likewise
so unwieldy, and in such a shattered condition, that
rom their appearance they would not support one fir-
ing, but would be shaken in pieces. Their elevations
were from 30 to 40 degrees, but they had no quoins
to level them. I here are, besides, a number of small
towers, and loop-holes for musketry, placed at certain
3
distances, all well encompassed by a ditch of 25 feet Bagdad
deep, which can be filled at any time by the waters of ^ !
the Tigris. The citadel is so close to the houses, that
it might be easily taken if possession was once gained
of the town ; but an attack made towards the land
would not probably be successful, as sluices might with
the greatest facility be cut into the ditch, and so
overflow the country for miles round; but it is said
an advantageous attack might be made from the wa¬
ter.
The city, which is fortified by lofty thick walls of
brick covered with earth, and strengthened by great
towers much resembling cavalier bastions, the whole
being surrounded by a deep ditch, is in the form of an
irregular square ; but the wTalls in many places are bro¬
ken down, occasioned by the disputes which happened
on the death of Abdulla Bashaw a few years ago, when
two competitors arose in Bagdad for the bashawie,
who fought several times in the town and citadel, and
laid great part of it in ruins. In the interim, the go¬
vernor of Moussul and Nineveh being appointed ba¬
shaw by the Porte, came hither with a considerable ar¬
my, and took possession of the sovereignty, vanquish¬
ing his two opponents. Opposite to the city, on the
other side of the river, are very extensive suburbs, from
whence shells might be thrown into the town, which
would have a dreadful effect on a place so closely built.
There is a communication between the city and sub¬
urbs by a bridge of boats ; the only kind of bridge
which that river will admit of, as it is broad and
deep, and in its ordinary course very rapid. At cer¬
tain seasons it swells to a prodigious height, and over¬
flowing the country occasions many morasses on that
side opposite to the city. Among these are several
towns and villages, whose inhabitants are said to be
the ancient Chaldeans : they are of a particular reli¬
gion, which they pretend is that of Seth. The inha¬
bitants of this city are composed chiefly of Persians,
Armenians, Turks, Arabs, and Jews, which last act in
the capacity of schroffs, or bankers, to the merchants.
The Jews, notwithstanding the severe treatment they
meet with from the government, are induced to live
here from a reverence to the prophet Ezekiel, whose
mausoleum they pretend is a day’s journey from the
city. Besides the Jews who reside here, there are
many that come every year out of devotion to visit
the prophet’s tomb. There are also some European
gentlemen, Venetians, and Frenchmen, with a small
number of Romish priests generally. Two chapels
are permitted for those of the Romish and Greek
persuasions ; at the former the priests officiate. In
the city are several large beautiful mosques, but into
which Christians are never suffered to enter if known
to be such, for fear it should defile them. The Ma¬
hometan women are very richly dressed, wearing brace¬
lets on their arms and jewels in their ears: the Ara¬
bian women have the partition between their nostrils
bored, wherein they wear rings.
There are also a number of antique buildings. At
the distance of about ten miles stand the ruins of an
ancient tower called the Tower of Nimrod. Whether
this tower was at first of a square or round form is now
difficult to determine ; though the former is most pro¬
bable, because all the remaining bricks are placed
square,
BAG [ 327 ]
B A G
BagdaJ,
Jiggage.
square, and not in the least circular. The bricks are
all twelve inches square and four and a half thick.
The cement is of mud or slime, mixed with broken
reed, as we mix hair with mortar 5 which slime might
either have been had from one of the great rivers, or
taken out of one of the swamps in the plain, with
which the country hereabout very much abounds. The
height of the ruin is 126 feet j the diameter of the
largest and middle part about 100 feet. It would ap¬
pear to be solid to the centre ; yet near the top there
is a regular opening of an oval form. The circumfe¬
rence ot that part of the tower which remains, and is
above the rubbish, is about 300 feet ; but probably
could the foundation be come at, it would be found of
far greater extent. The present Turks, Jews, and A-
rabians, are fond of believing this to be the identical
ruin of the ancient tower of Babel, for which they as¬
sign a variety of reasons; but all so void of the appear¬
ance of truth, that to set about confuting them would
be losing time in trifles. It appears to have been a
beacon or watch-tower, to give notice of the approach
of an enemy: or perhaps was used as an observatory
to inspect the various motions of the heavenly bodies ;
which science was so much cultivated among the an¬
cient inhabitants of this country, that even the Gre¬
cians, though desirous of being esteemed the inventors
of all arts and sciences, could never deny the Babylo¬
nians the honour ot having laid the foundation of
astronomy.
BAGGAGE, in military affairs, denotes the clothes,
tents, utensils of divers sorts, provisions, and other ne¬
cessaries, belonging to the army.
Before a march, the baggage with the waggons is
marshalled according to the rank which the several re¬
giments bear in the army; being sometimes ordered to
follow the respective columns of the army, sometimes to
follow the artillery, and sometimes to form a column by
themselves. The general’s baggage marches first; and
each waggon has a flag, showing the regiment to which
it belongs.
I aching up the Baggage, vasa colligere, was a term
among the Romans, for preparing to go to war, or to
be ready for an expedition.
I he Romans distinguished two sorts of baggage ; a
greater and less. The lesser was carried by the soldier
on his back, and called sarcinu; consisting of the
things most necessary to life, and which he could not
do without. Hence colligere sarcinas, packing up the
baggage, is used for decamping, castra movere. The
greater and heavier was carried on horses and vehicles,
and called onera. Hence onera vehiculorum, sard nee
hominum. The baggage-horses were denominated sag-
nientarii equi.
The Roman soldiers in their marches were heavy
loaden; insomuch, that they were called by way of
jest muh mariani, and cerumnee. They had four sorts
of luggage, which they never went without, viz. corn
or buccellatum, utensils, valli, and arms. Cicero ob¬
serves, that they used to carry with them above half a
month’s provisions ; and we have instances in Livy,
where they carried provisions for a whole month. Their
utensils comprehended those proper for gathering fuel,
dressing their meat, and even for fortification or in-
trenchment; and what is more, a chain for binding
captives. For arms, the foot carried a spear, shield,
saw, basket, rutrum, hatchet, lorum, falx, &c. Also
stakes or pales, valli, for the sudden fortifying a camp ;
sometimes seven or even twelve of these pales were car¬
ried by each man, though generally, as Polybius tells
us, only three or four. On Trajan’s column we see
soldiers represented with this fardle of corn, utensils,
pales, &c. gathered into a bundle and laid on their
shoulders. Thus inured to labour, they grew strong
and able to undergo any fatigue in battle ; the great¬
est heat of which never tired them, or put them out
of breath. In aftertimes, when discipline grew slack,
this luggage was thrown on carriages and porters shoul¬
ders.
The Macedonians were not less inured to hardship
than the Romans; when Philip first formed an army,
he forbade all use of carriages; yet, with all their load*
they would march, in a summer’s day, 20 miles in mili¬
tary rank.
BAGLANA, or Buglana, a province of the king¬
dom of Dekkan in Hindustan. It is bounded on the
north and east by Guzzerat and Ballagat ; and on the
south and west by that part of Visiapour called Konhan,
belonging to the Mahrattas. It ends in a point at the
sea coast between Daman and Balsora, and is the least
province in the kingdom. The Portuguese territories
begin in this province at the port Daman, 21 leagues
south of Surat; and run along the coast by Bassaim,
Bombay, and Chawl, to Dabul, almost 50 leagues to
the north of Goa.
BAGLIV1, George, a most illustrious physician
of Italy, was a native of Apulia, and born about the
year 1668. He studied at Padua, where he became
doctor ; and then went to Rome, where he was chosen
professor of anatomy. He was a man of most uncom¬
mon force of understanding, of which he gave ample
proofs in many curious and accurate productions, philo¬
sophical as well as medicinal. He died at Rome in 1706,
m the flower of his age, and when he was no more
than 38. A collection of his works was printed first
in 1710, quarto; and has since been reprinted, in the
same size, at various places. His Praxis Medico, and
De Fibra Matricis, are the principal pieces. He wrote
a Dissertation upon the Anatomy, Bite, and Effects,
of the Tarantula, which is the production of his coun¬
try ; and gave a particular account of the earthquake
at Rome and the adjacent cities in 1703. His works
are all in Latin.
BAGNAGAR, a town of Asia, in Hindostan, bet¬
ter known by the name of Hyderabad. It is situated
on the south bank of the river Musa, six miles from the
strong fortress of Golconda.^ It is a fine and populous
city, about seven miles in circumference, and is sur¬
rounded by a wall as a security against sudden incur¬
sions. It is chiefly remarkable for a magnificent re¬
servoir of water, surrounded with a colonnade sup¬
ported by arches. E. Long. 78. 20. N. Lat. 17. 10.
BAGNARA, a sea port town of Italy in the king¬
dom of Naples, in the farther Calabria, with the title
of a duchy. E. Long. 16. 8. N. Lat. 38. 15,
BAGNAREA, a town of Italy in St Peter’s patri¬
mony, and in the territory of Orvieta, with a bishop’s
see. E. Long. 12. 10. N. Lat. 42. 36.
BAGNERES, a town of France in Gascony, and
in
BAG [ 328 ] BAG
Bagneres in tlie 'County of Bigorre, now the department of the
|| Upper Pyrenees, so called from its mineral waters,
Bag-pipe, are much resorted to. It is seated on the river
T Adour, in E. Long. O. 12. N. Lat. 43,3* .
BAGNIALACK, a large town of Turkey in Eu¬
rope, in the province of Bosnia. E. Long. 18. 10.
N. Lat. 44. o.
BAGNIO, an Italian word signifying a bath. We
use it for a house with conveniences for bathing, cup¬
ping, sweating, and otherwise eleansing the. body j
and sometimes for worse purposes. In Turkey it is be¬
come a general name for the prisons where the slaves
are enclosed, it being usual in these prisons to have
baths.
BAGNOLAS, a town of Lower Languedoc, now
the department of Gard in France, containing 4800 in¬
habitants. It has a handsome square, and two foun¬
tains which rise in the middle of the town j the waters
of which, being received in a bason, are conveyed by.a
canal out of town, and from thence to the lands about it.
E. Long. 4. 43. N. Lat. 44. IO.
BAGNOL1ANS, or Bagnolanses, in church
history, a sect of heretics, who in reality were Mani-
chees, though they somewhat disguised their errors.
They rejected the Old Testament and part of the
New j held the world to be eternal: and affirmed that
God did not create the soul when he infused it into the
body.
BAGOI, among the ancient Persians, were the
same with those called by the Latins spadones, viz. a
species of eunuchs, in whom the canal of the penis was
so contorted by a tight vinculum, that they could not
emit the semen.
BAG-Pipe, a musical instrument, of the wind kind,
■ chiefly used in Scotland and Ireland. The peculi¬
arity of the bag-pipe, and from which it takes its
name, is, that the air which blows it is collected in¬
to a leathern bag, from whence it is pressed out by
the arm into the pipes. These pipes consist of a bass,
and tenor or rather treble ; and are difterent according
to the species of the pipe. The bass part is called the
drone, and the tenor or treble part the chanter. In all
the species, the bass never varies from its uniform note,
and therefore very deservedly gets the name of drone ;
and the compass of the chanter is likewise very limit¬
ed. There is a considerable difference between the
Highland and Lowland bag-pipe of Scotland ; the
former being blown with the mouth, and the latter
with a small bellows : though this difference is not es¬
sential, every species of bag-pipes being capable, by a
proper construction of the reeds, of producing music
either with the mouth or bellows. The following are
the species of bag-pipes most commonly known in this
country.
I. The Irish Pipe. This is the softest, and in some
respects the most melodious of any, so that music-
books have been published with directions how to play
on it. The chanter, like that of all the rest, has eight
holes like the English flute, and is played on by open¬
ing and shutting the holes as occasion requires j the
bass consists of two short drones and a long one. The
lowest note of the chanter is D on the German flute,
being the open note on the counter-string of a vio¬
lin $ the small drone (one of them commonly being
stopped up) is tuned in unison with the note above
this, and the large one to an octave below j so that a Bag-
great length is required in order to produce such a
low note, on which account the drone hath sometimes
two or three turns. The instrument is tuned by
lengthening or shortening the drone till it sounds the
note desired.
2. The Highland Bag-Pipe. This consists of a
chanter and two short drones, which sound in unison
the lowest note of the chanter except one. This is ex¬
ceedingly loud, and almost deafening if played in a
room j and is therefore mostly used in the field, for
marches, &c. It requires a prodigious blast to sound
it ; so that those unaccustomed to it cannot imagine
how Highland pipers can continue to play for hours
together, as they are often known to do. For the
same reason, those who use the instrument are obliged
either to stand on their feet or walk when they play.
This instrument hath but nine notes; its scale, how¬
ever, hath not yet been reduced to a regular standard
by comparing it with that of other instruments, so that
we can say nothing about its compass. Those who are
best acquainted with it, however, affirm that it plays
only the natural notes, without being capable of varia¬
tion by flats or sharps.
3. The Scots Lowland Pipe. This is likewise a very
loud instrument, though less so than the former. It is
blown with bellows, and hath a bass like the Irish pipe.
This species is different from all the rest, as it cannot
play the natural notes, but hath F and C sharp. Tire
lowest note of a good bag-pipe of this kind is unison
with C sharp on the tenor of a violin tuned concert-
pitch ; and, as it hath but nine notes, the highest is D
in alt. From this peculiar construction, the Highland
and Lowland bag-pipes play two species of music essen¬
tially different from one another, as each of them also is
from every other species of music in the world. Hence
these two species of bag-pipes deserve notice as curiosi¬
ties ; for the music which they play is accompanied
with such peculiar ornaments, or what are intended as
such, as neither violin, or even organ, can imitate,
but in a very imperfect manner.
This kind of bag-pipe was formerly very much
used in Scotland at weddings and other festivals ; be¬
ing indeed extremely well calculated for playing that
peculiar species of Scots music called reels. It has
been often a matter of surprise how this was possible, as
the instrument has only a compass of nine or ten notes
at the utmost, and which cannot be varied as in other
instruments. In this repect, however, it has a very
great compass, and will play an inconceivable variety
of tunes. As its notes are naturally so high, there is
scarce any one tune but what is naturally transposed by
it, so that what would be a flat note on the key pro¬
per for the violin, may be a sharp one on the bag-pipe ;
and though the latter cannot play any flat note, it may
nevertheless in this manner play tunes which on other
instruments would be flat, to as great perfection as
these instruments themselves.
4. The Small Pipe. This is remarkable for its small¬
ness, the chanter not exceeding eight inches in length ;
for which reason, the holes are so near each other, that
it is with difficulty they can be closed. This hath only
eight notes, the lower end of the chanter being com¬
monly stopped. The reason of this is, to prevent the
slurring of all the notes, which is unavoidable in the
other
BAG
BAG l 329 ]
gig.pipe. other species ; so that in the hands of a bad player they
—y—' become the most shocking and unintelligible instruments
imaginable : but this, by having the lower hole closed,
and also by the peculiar way in which the notes are ex¬
pressed, plays all its tunes in the way called by the Ita¬
lians staccato, and cannot slur at all. It hath no species
of music peculiar to itself; and can play nothing which
cannot be much better done upon other instruments ;
though it is surprising what volubility some performers
on this instrument will display, and how much they will
overcome the natural disadvantages of it. Some of this
species, instead of having drones like the other, have
their bass parts consisting of a winding cavity in a kind
of short case, and are tuned by opening these to a cer¬
tain degree by means of sliding covers 3 from which
contrivance they are called shuttle-pipes. Besides these
there are a variety of others, called Italian, German,
Organ, &c. bag pipes, which have nothing different in
their construction from those above described, nor any
good quality to recommend them.
As to the origin of bag-pipe music, some are of opi¬
nion that it is to be derived from the Danes ; but Mr
Pennant thinks differently, and gives the following rea¬
sons for deriving it from Italy.
)yage “ Neither of these instruments (the Highland and
Mfs Ij0W^an(l bag-pipes above described) were the inven-
^ ’ tion of the Danes, or, as is commonly supposed, of any
of the northern nations 3 for their ancient writers prove
them to have been animated by the clangor tubarum.
Notwithstanding they have had their sceck pipe long
amongst them, as their old songs prove, yet we cannot
allow them the honour of inventing this melodious in¬
strument, but must assert, that they borrowed it from
the invaded Caledonians. We must still go farther, and
deprive even that ancient race of the credit 3 and de¬
rive its origin from the mild climate of Italy, perhaps
from Greece.
“ There is now in Rome a most beautiful bas re¬
lievo, a Grecian sculpture of the highest antiquity, of a
bag-piper playing on his instrument, exactly like a mo¬
dern Highlander. The Greeks had their or
instrument composed of a pipe and blown-up skin : the
Romans in all probability borrowed it from them, and
introduced it among their swains, who still use it under
the names ofpiva and cornu-musa.
“ That master of music, Nero, used one 3 and had
not the empire been so suddenly deprived of that great
artist, he would (as he graciously declared his inten¬
tion) have treated the people with a concert, and
among other curious instruments, would have introdu¬
ced the titricularius or bag-pipe. Nero perished 3 but
the figure of the instrument is preserved on one of
his coins, but highly improved by that great master:
it has the bag and two of the vulgar pipes ; but was
blown with a bellows like an organ, and had on one
side a row of nine unequal pipes, resembling the syrinx
of the god Pan. The bag-pipe, in the unimproved
state, is also represented in an ancient sculpture 3 and
appears to have had two long pipes or drones, and a
single short pipe for the fingers. Tradition says, that
the kind played on by the mouth was introduced by the
Danes 3 as theirs was wind-music, we will admit that
they might have made improvement, but more we can¬
not allow: they were skilled in the use of the trumpet 3
the Highlanders in the piohb, or bag-pipe.
Vol. HI. Part I. -f
Non tuba in vsu illis, conjuncta at tibia in utrcm
Hat belli signum,et martem vocat horrida in arma* N * Mdvini
The bag-pipe appears to have been an instrument
of great antiquity in Ireland, though it is uncertain
whence they derived it. Mr Pennant, by means of,
an antique found at Richborough in Kent, has deter¬
mined that the bag-pipe was introduced at a very early
period into Britain 3 whence it is probable that both
Irish and Danes might borrow the instrument from the
Caledonians with whom they had such frequent inter¬
course. Aristides Quintilianus informs us, that it
prevailed in the Highlands in very early ages ; and in¬
deed the genius of the people seems to render the opi¬
nion highly probable. The attachment of that people
to their music catted pibrachs is almost incredible, and
on some occasions is said to have produced effects little
less marvellous than those ascribed to the ancient mu¬
sic. At the battle of Quebec in 1760, while the Bri¬
tish troops were retreating in great disorder, the gene¬
ral complained to a field officer in Frazer’s regiment
of the bad behaviour of his corps. “ Sir (said he with
some warmth), you did very wrong in forbidding the
pipers to play this morning : nothing encourages the
Highlanders so much in the day of action. Nay, even
now they would be of use.”—“ Let them blow like
the devil, then (replies the general), if it will bring
back the men.” The pipers were then ordered to play
a favourite martial air 3 and the Highlanders, the mo¬
ment they heard the music, returned and formed with
alacrity in the rear. In the late -war in India, Sir Eyre
Coote, aware of the attachment of the Highlanders to
their favourite instrument, gave them yol. to buy a pair
of bag-pipes after the battle of Porto Nuovo.
Formerly there was a kind of cpllege in the island of
Skye, where the Highland bag-pipe was taught 3 the
teachers making use of pins stuck into the ground in¬
stead of musical notes. This college, however, has been
for some time entirely dissolved, and the use of the High¬
land pipe become much less general than before. At
last a society of gentlemen, thinking it perhaps impo¬
litic to allow the ancient martial music of the country
to decline, resolved to revive it by giving an annual
prize to the best performers on the instrument. These
competitions were first held at Falkirk, but for a good
number of years at Edinburgh 3 where the only sur¬
viving member of the ancient college of Skye is now
professor of bag-pipe music.
The Lowland pipe, as has been already observed, is
an instrument essentially different from the Highland
pipe 3 it was reformed, and the music improved, by
George Mackie, who is said to have attended the col¬
lege of Skye seven years. He had before been the
best performer on that instrument in that part of the
country where he lived : but, while attending the col¬
lege at Skye, be adapted the graces of the Highland
music to the Lowland pipe. Upon his return, he was
heard with astonishment and admiration 3 but unluckily,
not being able to commit his improvements to writ¬
ing, and indeed the nature of the instrument scarcely
admitting of it, the knowledge of this kind of music
hath continued to decay ever since, and will probably
soon wear out altogether. What contributes much to
this is, that bag-pipers, not content with the natural
nine notes, which their instrument can play easily,
T t force
BAH ■ [ 33° 1 B A J
Bag-pipe force it to play tunes requiring higher notes, which
|| disorders the whole instrument in such a manner as to
Baharen. produce the most horrid discords j and this practice
v" brings, though undeservedly, the instrument itself into
contempt.
BAGUETTE, in Architecture, a small round mould¬
ing, less than an astragal, and so called from the resem¬
blance it bears to a ring.
BAHAMA, or Lucaya, islands, are the easter-
most of the Antilles, lying in the Atlantic ocean. They
are situated to the south of Carolina, between 22 and
27 degrees N. Lat. and 73 and 81 degrees \V. Long.
They extend along the coast of Florida quite down to
the isle of Cuba, and are said to be 500 in number,
some of them only bare rocks ; but twelve of them are
large, fertile, and in nothing different from the soil of
Carolina: only a few are inhabited. Providence, which
is 200 miles east of the Floridas, is the seat of govern¬
ment ; though some others are larger and more fertile,
on which the English have plantations. Between them
and the continent of Florida is the gulf of Bahama or
Florida, through which the Spanish galeons sail in their
passage to Europe.
These islands are the first fruits of Columbus’s dis¬
coveries ; but they were not known to the English till
1667, when Captain Seyle, being driven among them
in his passage to Carolina, gave his name to one of
them ; and being a second time driven upon it, gave
it the name of Providence. The English, observing
the advantageous situation of these islands for being a
check on the French and Spaniards, attempted to settle
them in the reign of Charles II. Some unlucky acci¬
dents prevented this settlement from being of any ad¬
vantage ; and the isle of Providence became a harbour
for the bucaneers or pirates, who for a long time infest¬
ed the American navigation. This obliged the govern¬
ment in 1718 to send out Captain Woodes Rogers with
a fleet to dislodge the pirates, and for making a settle¬
ment. This the captain effected j a fort was erected,
and an independent company was stationed in the
island. Ever since this last settlement these islands
have been improving, though they advance but slowly.
In 1773 there were 2052 white inhabitants, and 2241
blacks $ but in 1803 the whole population was 14,318,
of whom 11,395 were persons of colour and blacks,
i he Spaniards and Americans captured these islands
during the last war ; but they were retaken by a de¬
tachment from St Augustine, April 7. 1783. Cotton
is now successfully cultivated j sugar does not succeed
so well but coffee, with oranges, lemons, and most of
the tropical fruits, are raised in considerable quantities.
Cattle and sheep thrive, and salt is procured in abun¬
dance from salt ponds.
BAHAR, or Barre, in Commerce, weights used in
several places in the East Indies.
1 here are two of these weights; one the great bahar,
with which they weigh pepper, cloves, nutmegs, ginger,
&c. and contains 55^ pounds of Portugal, or about
524 lb. 9 oz. avoirdupois weight. With "the little ba¬
har, they weigh quicksilver, vermilion, ivory, silk, &c.
It contains about 437 lb. 9 oz. avoirdupois weight.
BAHAREN, an island in the Persian gulf, situated
in E. Long. 50. o. N. Lat. 26. o. This island is
chiefly remarkable for its pearl-fishery, and has often
changed its masters. It fell with Ormus under the
3
dominion of the Portuguese, was again restored to Balmrc’
Persia by Thamas Kouli Khan ; and after his death ||
the confusion into which his empire was thrown, gave
an opportunity to an enterprising and ambitious Arab
of taking possession of the island, where he still main¬
tains his authority. Baharen was famous for its pearl-
fishery even at the time when pearls were found at
Ormus, Karek, Kashy, and other places in the Per¬
sian gulf: but it is now become of much greater con¬
sequence j all the other banks having been exhausted,
while this has suffered no sensible diminution. The
time of fishing begins in April, and ends in October.
It is confined to a tract four or five leagues in breadth.
The pearls taken at Baharen, though not so white as
those of Ceylon or Japan, are much larger than those
of the former place, and more regularly shaped than
those of the latter. They have a yellowish colour j but
have also this good quality, that they preserve their
golden hue, whereas the whiter kind lose much of their
lustre by keeping, especially in hot countries. The
annual revenue from the Baharen pearl-fishery is com¬
puted at about 157,500!. The greatest part of the
pearls that are uneven are carried to Constantinople
and other ports of Turkey, where the larger go to com¬
pose ornaments for head-dresses, and the smaller are
used in embroideries. The perfect pearls must be re¬
served for Surat, whence they are distributed through
all Indostan.
BAHI, a province of Lu^on or Manilla, one of the
Philippine islands in the East Indies, belonging to the
Spaniards. It is remarkable for producing excellent
betel, which the inhabitants, Spaniards as well as na¬
tives, perpetually chew from morning till night. It is
also the place where most of the ships are built. But
the natives suffer much from this work ; several hun¬
dreds of them being constantly employed in it, on the
mountains, or at the port of Cavite. The king allows
these labourers a piece of eight per month, with a suf¬
ficient quantity of rice. The whole province contains
about 6000 tributary natives.
BAHIA, He Todos los Sanctos, a province of
Brasil in South America, belonging to the Portuguese,
and the richest in the whole country ; but unhappily
the air and climate do not correspond with other natu¬
ral advantages *, yet so fertile is the province in sugar
and other commercial articles, that the Portuguese flock
hither not only as it is the seat of affluence, but also of
pleasure and grandeur. The capital, called St Salva¬
dor, or Cividad de Pallia, is populous, magnificent, and
one of the most gay and opulent cities in Brasil. It
stands on a bay in S. Lat. 12. 11. is strong by nature,
well fortified, and always defended by a numerous gar¬
rison. It contains 12,000 or 14,000 Portuguese, and
about three times as many negroes, besides people of
different nations who choose to reside in that city.
BAH1R, a Hebrew term signifying famous or il¬
lustrious ; but particularly used for a book of the Jews,
treating of the profound mysteries of the cabbala, being
the most ancient of the Rabbinical works.
BAHUS, a strong town of Sweden, and capital of
a government of the same name, seated on a rock in a
small island, in E. Long. II. 10. N. Lat. 57. 52.
BAJA, Bayjah, or Begia, a town of the king¬
dom of lunis in Africa, supposed to be the ancient
Vacca of Sallust, and Oppidum Vaggense of Pliny. It
was
B A I [ 33i 1 B A J
tvas formerly, and still continues to be, a place of great
. trade, and the chief market of the kingdom for corn j of
which the adjacent territories produce such abundance,
that they can supply more than the whole kingdom
with it; and the Tunisians say, that if there was in the
kingdom such another town as this for plenty of corn,
it would become as cheap as sand. Here is also a great
annual fair, to which the most distant Arabian tribes
resort with their families and flocks. Notwithstanding
all this, however, the inhabitants are very poor, and
great part of the land about the town remains uncul¬
tivated, through the cruel exactions of the government,
and the frequent incursions of the Arabs, who are very
powerful in these parts. The town stands on the de¬
clivity of a hill on the road to Constautina, about ten
leagues from the northern coast, and 36 south-west from
Tunis ; and hath the convenience of being well watered.
On the highest part is a citadel that commands the
whole place^ but is now of no great strength. The
walls were raised out of the ruins of the ancient Vacca,
and have some ancient inscriptions.
Baja, a populous town of Hungary, on the Danube,
in E. Long. 19. 50. N. Lat. 46. 40.
BAUE, an ancient village of Campania in Italy,
between the promontory of Misenum and Puteoli, on
the Sinus Balanus 5 famous for its natural hot baths,
which served the wealthier Romans for the purposes
both of medicine and pleasure. The variety of those
baths, the softness of its climate, and the beauty of
its landscape, captivated the minds of opulent nobles,
whose passion for bathing knew no bounds. Abun¬
dance of linen, and disuse of ointments, render the
practice less necessary in modern life : hut the ancients
performed no exercise, engaged in no study, without
previous ablutions, which at Rome required an enor¬
mous expence in aqueducts, stoves and attendants : a
place therefore, where waters naturally heated to every
degree of warmth bubble spontaneously out of the
ground, in the pleasantest of all situations, w7as such a
treasure as could not be overlooked. Baise was this
place in the highest perfection; its easy communication
with Rome was also a point of great weight. Hither
at first retired for a temporary relaxation the mighty
rulers of the world, to string anew their nerves and re¬
vive their spirits, fatigued with bloody campaigns and
civil contests. Their habitations were small and modest;
hut soon increasing luxury added palace to palace with
such expedition and sumptuosity, that ground was
wanting for the vast demand : enterprising architects,
supported by infinite wealth, carried their foundations
into the sea, and drove that element back from its
ancient limits : it has since taken ample revenge, and
recovered much more than it ever lost. From being a
&’• place of resort lor a season, Baiae now' grew up to a
permanent city : whoever found himself disqualified by
age, or infirmity, for sustaining any longer an active
part on the political theatre ; whoever, from an indo¬
lent disposition, sought a place where the pleasures of
a town were combined with the sweets of a rural life ;
■whoever wished to withdraw from the dangerous neigh¬
bourhood of a court, and the baneful eye of inform¬
ers, flocked hither to enjoy life untainted with fear
and trouble. Such affluence of wealthy inhabitants
rendered Baiae as much a miracle of art as it was be¬
fore of nature ; its splendour may be inferred from its
innumerable ruins, heaps of marbles, mosaics, stucco, jjai«
and other precious fragments of taste.— It flourished |j
in full glory down to the davs of Theodoric the Goth ; Bajazet.
but the destruction of these enchanted palaces follow- v
ed quickly upon the irruption of the northern conque¬
rors, who overturned the Roman system, sacked and
burnt all before them, and destroyed or dispersed the
whole race of nobility. Loss of fortune left the Ro¬
mans neither the means, nor indeed the thought, of sup¬
porting such expensive establishments, which can only
be enjoyed in perfection during peace and prosperity.
No sooner had opulence withdrawn her hand, than the
unbridled sea rushed back upon its old domain ; moles
and buttresses were torn asunder and washed away ;
whole promontories, with the proud towers that once
crowned their brows, were undermined and tumbled
headlong into the deep, where, many feet below the
surface, pavements of streets, foundations of houses, and
masses of walls, may still be descried. Internal commo¬
tions of the earth contributed also largely to this gene¬
ral devastation ; mephitic vapours and stagnated waters
have converted this favourite seat of health into the den
of pestilence, at least during the estival heats : yet Baiee
in its ruined state, and stripped of all its ornaments,
still presents many beautiful and striking subjects for
the pencil. E. Long. 14. 45. N. Lat. 41. 6.
BAJADOR, a cape on the west coast of Africa,
south of the Canary islands. W. Long. 15. 20. N.
Lat. 27. o.
BAIANUS SINUS, a bay so called from Baice,
(Suetonius) ; Portus Baiarum, (Pliny) ; which was
enlarged by Augustus, by giving entrance to the sea
into the Lacus Lucrinus and Averni, ordering it to
he called Portus Julius apud Baias, (Suetonius). We
also read Baianus Lacus in Tacitus, which some inter¬
pret the Lucrinus. The modern name is Golfo de Pvz-
•&uolo\ From the highest point that forms the bay, a
large castle commands the road where foreign ships of
war usually ride at anchor, the harbour of Naples not
being spacious enough for the reception of a fleet ;
here they enjoy good shelter, watering, and victualling;
but in summer risk the health of their crews, on account
of the unwholesomeness of the air.
BAJAZET I. sultan of the Turks, a renowned
warrior but a tyrant, was conquered by Tamerlane,
and exposed by him in an iron cage ; the fate he had
destined (it is said) for his adversary if he had been the
victor.
The iron cage, however, so long and so often re¬
peated as a moral lesson, has been rejected as a fable
by modern writers, who smile at the vulgar credulity.
They appeal to the Persian history of Sherefeddin Ali,
of which a French version has been given, and from
which Mr Gibbon has collected the following more
specious narrative of this memorable transaction. “ No
sooner was Timour informed that the captive Ottoman
was at the door of his tent, than he graciously stepped
forwards to receive him, seated him by bis side, and
mingled with just reproaches a soothing pity for his
rank and misfortune. “ Alas! (said the emperor)
the decree of fate is now accomplished by your own
fault : it is the web which you have woven, the thorns
of the tree which yourself have planted. I wished to
spare, and even to assist, the champion of the Mos¬
lems; you braved our threats, you despised our friend-
* T t 2 ship ;
B A J [ 332 3 B A I
Bajaz&t. ship 5 you forced us to enter your kingdom with our
v-' '> invincible armies. Behold the event. Had you van¬
quished, I am not ignorant of the late which you re¬
served for myself and my troops. But I disdain to
retaliate : your life and honour are secure j and I shall
express my gratitude to God by my clemency to man.”
The royal captive showed some signs ot repentance,
accepted the humiliation of a robe of honour, and em¬
braced with tears his son Mousa, who, at his request,
was sought and found among the captives of the field.
The Ottoman princes were lodged in a splendid pavi¬
lion ; and the respect of the guards could be surpassed
only by their viirilance. On the arrival of the haram
from Boursa, Timour restored the queen Despina and
her daughter to their father and husband j but he pi¬
ously required, that the Servian princess, who had hi¬
therto been indulged in the profession of Christianity,
should embrace without delay the religion of the
prophet. In the feast of victory, to which Baja-
zet was invited, the Mogul emperor placed a crown
on his head, and a sceptre in his hand, with a solemn
assurance of restoring him with an increase of glory to
the throne of his ancestors. But the effect of this
promise was disappointed by the sultan’s untimely
death : amidst the care of the most skilful physicians,
he expired of an apoplexy at Akshehr, the Antioch
of Pisidia, about nine months after his defeat. The
victor dropped a tear over his grave ; his body, with
royal pomp, was conveyed to the mausoleum which he
had erected at Boursa; and his son Mousa, after re¬
ceiving a rich present of gold and jewels, of horses and
arms, was invested by a patent in red ink with the
kingdom of Anatolia.
“ Such is the portrait of a generous conqueror, which
has been extracted from his own memorials, and dedi¬
cated to his son and grandson, 19 years after his de¬
cease j and, at a time when the truth was remember¬
ed by thousands, a manifest falsehood would have im¬
plied a satire on his real conduct. On the other hand,
of the harsh and ignominious treatment of Bajazet
there is also a variety of evidence. The Turkish an¬
nals in particular, which have been consulted or tran¬
scribed by Leunclavius, Pocock, and Cantemir, una¬
nimously deplore the captivity of the iron cage ; and
some credit may be allowed to national historians, who
cannot stigmatize the Tartar without uncovering the
shame of their king and country,” From these op¬
posite premises, Mr Gibbon thinks a fair and mode¬
rate conclusion may be deduced. He is satisfied that
Sherefeddin Ali has faithfully described the first osten¬
tatious interview, in which the conqueror, whose spi¬
rits were harmonized by success, affected the character
of generosity. But his mind was insensibly alienated
by the unseasonable arrogance of Bajazet } the com¬
plaints of his enemies the Anatolian princes, were just
and vehement 5. and Timour betrayed a design of lead¬
ing his royal captive in triumph to Samarcand. An
attempt to facilitate his escape by digging a mine un¬
der the tent, provoked the Mogul emperor to impose
a harsher restraint; and in his perpetual marches, an
iron cage on a waggon might be invented, not as a
wanton insult but as a rigorous precaution. Timour
had read in some fabulous history a similar treatment
of one ot his predecessors, a king of Persia j and Ba¬
jazet was condemned to represent the person and ex-
2
plate the guilt of the Roman Caesar. But the strength Eajaztt
of his mind and body fainted under the trial, and his [)
premature death might without injustice be ascribed to ®aif'
the severity of Timour. He warred not, however, with T ^
the dead ; a tear, and a sepulchre were all that he could
bestow on a captive who was delivered from his power j
and if Mousa, the son of Bajazet, was permitted to
reign over the ruins of Boursa, the greatest part of the
province of Anatolia had been restored by the con¬
queror to their lawful sovereigns.
BAIKAL, a great lake in Siberia, lying between
52 and 55 degrees of north latitude. It extends 366
miles in length j its breadth varies from 20 to 53 miles,
and its depth from 20 to 90 fathoms. It is environed on
all sides by high mountains. In one part of it, which
lies near the river Bargusian, it throws up an inflam¬
mable sulphureous liquid called maltha, which the
people of the adjacent country burn in their lamps*
There are likewise several sulphureous springs near
this lake. Its water at a distance appears of a sea-
green colour : it is fresh, and so clear, that objects
may be seen in it several fathoms deep. It does not
begin to freeze till near the latter end of Decem¬
ber, and thaws again about the beginning of May:
from which time till September, a ship is seldom
known to be wrecked upon it; but by the high winds
which then blow, many shipwrecks happen. tThis
lake is called by the neighbouring people Swiatow
More, or the Holy Luke ; and they imagine, that when
storms happen on it, they will be preserved from all
danger, by complimenting it with the title of sea*
When it is frozen over, people travel upon it in the
road to China; but they must be very sharp shod,
otherwise they cannot stand upon the ice, which is ex¬
ceedingly smooth. Notwithstanding that the ice on this
lake is sometimes two ells thick, there are some open
places in it to which tempestuous winds will often drive
those who are crossing it ; in which case they are irre¬
coverably lost. The camels that pass along have a
particular kind of shoes sharp at bottom, and the oxen
have sharp irons driven through their hoofs, without
which it would be impossible for them to pass. Here
are plenty of large sturgeon and pike \ with many seals
of the black, but none of the spotted, kind. It con¬
tains several islands j and the borders are frequented by
black sables and civet-cats.
BAIL, Ballium, (from the French bailltr, which
comes ot the Greek fiaXtet*, and signifies to deliver into
hands), is used in our common law for the freeing or
setting at liberty of one arrested or imprisoned upon
any action, either civil or criminal, on surety taken for
his appearance at a day and place certain.
The reason why it is called bail, is because by this
means the party restrained is delivered into the hands of
those that bind themselves for his forthcoming, in .order
to a safe keeping or protection from prison ; and the end
ot bail is to satisfy the condemnation and costs, or ren¬
der the defendant to prison.
With respect to bail in civil cases, it is to be ob¬
served that there is both common and special bail.
Common bail is an action of small concernment, be¬
ing called common, because any sureties in that case
are taken 5 whereas in causes of great weight, as
actions upon bonds, or speciality, &c. where the debt
amounts to 10I. special bail or surety must be taken,
B A I [ 333 1 B A I
Bdj]> sucli as subsidy men at least, and they according to the
—ymmJ Value.
The commitment of a person being only for safe
custody, wherever bail will answer the same intention, it
ought to be taken, as in most of the inferior crimes:
but in felonies, and other offences of a capital nature, no
bail can be a security equivalent to the actual custody
of the person. For what is there that a man may not
be induced to forfeit to save his own life ? and what sa¬
tisfaction or indemnity is it to the public, to seize the
effects of them who have bailed a murderer, if the mur¬
derer himself be suffered to escape with impunity ? Up¬
on a principle similar to which, the Athenian magi¬
strates, when they took a solemn oath never to keep a
citizen in bonds that could give three sureties of the same
quality with himself, did it with an exception to such as
had embezzled the public money, or been guilty of trea¬
sonable practices.
Bail may be taken either in court, or, in some par¬
ticular cases, by the sheriff or other magistrate j but
mostly used by the justices of the peace. To refuse or
delay to bail any person bailable, is an offence against
the liberty of the subject, in any magistrate, by the com¬
mon law} as well as by the statute Westm. I. 3 Edw. I.
c. 15. and the habeas corpus act, 31 Car. II. c. 2.
And, lest the intention of the laAV should be frustrated
by the justices requiring bail to a greater amount than
the nature of the case demands, it is expressly declared
by statute 1 W. and M. st. 2. c. I. that excessive bail
ought not to be required ; though what bail shall be
called excessive, must be left to the courts, on consi¬
dering the circumstances of the case, to determine.
And on the other hand, if the magistrate take insuffi¬
cient bail, he is liable to be fined, if the criminal doth
not appear.
In civil cases, every defendant is bailable. But it is
otherwise in
Criminal matters. Regularly, in all offences, either
against the common law or act of parliament, that are
below felony, the offender ought to be admitted to
bail unless it be prohibited by some special act of par¬
liament.'—By the ancient common law, before and
since the Conquest, all felonies were bailable, till mur¬
der was excepted by statute : so that persons might be
admitted to bail almost in every case. But the sta¬
tute West. 1. 3 Edw. I. c. 15. takes away the power
of bailing in treason, and in divers instances of felony.
The statutes 23 Hen. VI. c. 9. and I and 2 Ph. and
Mar. c. 13. gave farther regulations in this matter:
and upon the whole we may collect, that no justices of
the peace can bail. 1. Upon an accusation of trea¬
son : nor, 2. Of murder : nor, 3. In case of manslaugh¬
ter, if the prisoner be clearly the slayer, and not bare¬
ly suspected to be so } or if any indictment be found
against him; nor, 4. Such as, being committed for fe¬
lony, have broken prison ; because it not only carries
a presumption of guilt, but is also superadding one fe¬
lony to another: 5. Persons outlarved : 6. Such as have
abjured the realm : 7. Persons taken with the mainour,
or in the fact of felony : 8. Persons charged with ar¬
son : 9. Excommunicated persons, taken by writ de
excommunicato capiendo ; all which are clearly not ad¬
missible to bail by the justices. Others are of a du¬
bious nature; as, 10. Thieves openly defamed and
known: n. Persons charged with other felonies, or
manifest and enormous offences, not being of good Bail
fame: and, 12. Accessories to felony, that labour j|
under the same want of reputation. These seem to be ,
in the discretion of the justices, whether bailable or y""""
not. rIhe last class are such as must be bailed upon of¬
fering sufficient surety ; as, 13. Persons of good fame,
charged with a bare suspicion of manslaughter, or
other infamous homicide: 14.' Such persons being
charged with petit larceny or any felony, not before
specified: or, 13. With being accessory to any felony.
Lastly, it is agreed, that the court of king’s bench,,
(or any judge thereof in time of vacation) may bail
for any crime whatsoever, be it treason, murder, or
any other offence, according to the circumstances of,
the case. And herein the wisdom of the law is very
manifest. rlo allow bail to be taken commonly for
such enormous crimes, would greatly tend to elude the
public justice : and yet there are cases, though they
rarely happen, in which it would be hard and unjust
to confine a man in prison, though accused even of the
greatest offence. The law has therefore provided one
court, and only one, which has a discretionary power
of bailing in any case: except only, even to this high
jurisdiction, and of course to all inferior ones, such per¬
sons as are committed by either house of parliament, so
long as the session lasts ; or such as are committed for
contempts by any of the king’s superior courts of jus--
tice. See Law.
Clerk qf the Bails, is an officer belonging to the
court of the kings bench : he files the bail-pieces taken
in that court, and attends for that purpose.
Bail, or Bale, in the sea-language. The seamen call
throwing the water by hand out of the ship’s or boat’s
hold, bailings. They also call those hoops that bear up
the tilt of a boat, its bails.
BAILIE, in Scots Law, a judge anciently appoint¬
ed by the king over such lands not erected into a re¬
gality as happened to fall to the crown by forfeiture or
otherwise, now abolished. It is also the name of a
magistrate in royal boroughs, and of the judge appoint¬
ed by a baron over lands erected into a barony. See
Law.
BAILIFF, [ballivus') from the French word bay-
liff, that is, prcefectus provincice ; and as the names of
the office itself was answerable to that of France;
where there are eight parliaments, which are high
courts from whence there lies no appeal, and within
the precincts of the several parts of that kingdom
which belong to each parliament there are several pro¬
vinces to which justice is administered by certain offi¬
cers called bailiffs: and in England there are several
counties in which justice hath been administered to the*
inhabitants by the officer who is now called sheriff ox
viscount (one of which names descends from the Saxons,
the other from the Normans) ; and though the sheriff
is not called bailiff, yet it is probable that was one of
his names also, because the county is often called bal-
liva. And in the statute of Magna Charta, cap. 28.
and 14 Ed. III. c. 9. the world bailiff seams to comprise
as well sheriffs as bailiffs of hundreds. As the realm
is divided into counties, so every county is divided in¬
to hundreds ; within which in ancient times the people
had justice ministered to them by the officers of every
hundred. But now the hundred courts, except certain
franchises,are swallowed up in the county-courts; and the
bailift’s
B A I t 33+ ] B A I
Bailiff
Bailiwick.
bailiff’s name and office is grown into contempt, they
being generally officers to serve writs, &c. within their
liberties. Though in other respects, the name is still
in good esteem : for the chief magistrates in divers
towns are called bailiffs, or bailies ; and sometimes the
persons to whom the king’s castles are committed are
termed bailiffs, as the bailff of Dover Castle, &c.
Of the ordinary bailiffs there are several sorts, viz.
sheriffs bailiffs, bailiffs of liberties, &c.
Sheriffs bailiffs, or sheriffs officers, are either bailiffs
of hundreds, or special bailiff’s. Bailiff's of hundreds are
officers appointed over those respective districts by the
sheriffs, to collect fines therein 5 to summon juries ; to
attend the judges and justices at the assises and quarter
sessions*, and also to execute writs and process in the se¬
veral hundreds. But as these are generally plain men,
and not thoroughly skilful in this latter part of their of¬
fice, that of serving writs and making arrests and execu¬
tions, it is now usual to join special bailiffs with them ;
who are generally mean persons employed by the sheriffs
on account only of their adroitness and dexterity in
hunting and seizing of their prey.
Bailiffs of liberties are those bailiffs who are ap¬
pointed by every lord within his liberty, to execute
process, and do such offices therein as the bailiff errant
doth at large in the county ; but bailiffs errant or itine¬
rant, to go up and down the county to serve process,
are out of use.
There are also bailiffs of forests, and bailiffs of ma¬
nors, who direct husbandry, fell trees, gather rents, pay
quit-rent, &c.
JFater-Bailiff, an officer appointed in all port-
towns, for the searching of ships, gathering the toll for
anchorage, &c. and arresting persons for debts, &c. on
the water.
BAILII, David, painter of perspective views and
portraits, was the son of Peter Bailii, an artist of some
note; and was born at Leyden in 1584. From his
father he learned to draw and design; but he was af¬
terwards placed under the care of Adrian Verburg, and
continued with him for some time ; and when he quit¬
ted that master, he studied to much greater advantage
with Cornelius Vandervoort, an excellent portrait pain¬
ter, and with him he spent about six years. As Van¬
dervoort possessed many capital paintings of some great
masters, Bailii, for his own improvement, copied them
with critical care and observation; and particularly co¬
pied one perspective view of the inside of a church, ori¬
ginally painted by Stenwyck, which he finished with
such accuracy, that even Stenwyck himself could scarce¬
ly determine which was the original, or which the co¬
py when both were placed before him. He travelled
through several parts of Italy to see the works of the
celebrated masters of that country, and for a few years
resided at Rome ; and abroad, as well as in his own
country, the correctness of his drawing, and the delicate
handling of his pictures, procured him employment,
admirers, and friends. In the latter part of his life
he discontinued painting, and only drew portraits on
vellum with a pen, which lie heightened with black
lead, and gave them wonderful force and roundness.
He died in 1638.
BAILIWICK, that liberty which is exempted from
the sheriff of the county ; over which liberty the lord
thereof appoints his own bailiff, with the like power
within his precinct as an under sheriff exercises under Balliwtekl
the sheriff’ of the county : Or it signifies the precinct of
a bailiff, or the place within which his jurisdiction is
terminated.
BAILLET, Adrian, a very learned French writer
and critic, born in 1649 a*: ^,e village of Neuville near
Beauvais in Picardy. His parents were too poor to give
him a proper education, which, however, he obtained
by the favour of the bishop of Beauvais, who afterwards
presented him with a small vicarage. In 1680 he was
appointed librarian to M. de Lamoignon, advocate-ge¬
neral to the parliament of Paris ; of whose library he
made a copious index in 35 vols. folio, all written with
his own hand. He died in 1706, after writing many
works, the principal of which are, A History of Holland
from 1609, to the peace of Nimeguen in 1679, 4 vols.
l2ino; Lives of the Saints, 3 vols. folio, which he profes¬
sed to have purged from fables; Jugemens des Spavans,
which he extended to 9 vols. i2mo.; and The Life of
Des Cartes, 2 vols. 4to, which he abridged, and reduced
to one vol. l2mo.
BAILLEUL, a town of France, in the department
of the North, formerly very strong, but now without
any lortifications. It has been several times burnt bv
accident, and contains now only about 500 houses. E.
Long. 2. 43. N. Lat. 50. 45.
BAILLY, Jean Sylvain, a celebrated philosopher
and astronomer, was born at Paris on the 15th Septem¬
ber 1736. He was originally intended for the profes¬
sion of painting, which his family had pursued for seve¬
ral generations, and he even had made some progress in
the art. But the bias of his mind leaned too much to
literary pursuits, especially to poetry, and works of ima¬
gination, to permit him to give that application which
is necessary to secure success and eminence in any pro¬
fession.
J he friends of Bailly, who had witnessed the early
dawn of his genius, saw that it was equally fitted to
appear with advantage in the study of polite litera¬
ture, or to shine in the walks of science : and recom¬
mended the latter chiefly to his attention. His ac¬
quaintance with La Caille the celebrated geometer
commenced, and this at once decided the object of his
studies, which were now almost entirely devoted to
scientific investigations. The first of his labours was
the calculation of the comet which appeared in the
year 1759* 1° January 1763, he was admitted a
member ol the Academy of Sciences ; and in the same
year he published a reduction of the observations made
by La Caille in 1760 and 1761 on the zodiacal stars;
an elaborate compilation, and of extensive utility. His
attention was afterwards directed to the consideration of
the theory of Jupiter’s satellites. La Grange, who now
promised to be the first mathematician in Europe, was
the formidable rival of Bailly in the competition for this
prize question in 1764. The results of his investiga¬
tions were collected into a treatise, which also contained
the history of that part of astronomy, and were publish¬
ed in 1766. In 1771 appeared his interesting and im¬
portant memoir on the Light of the Satellites, which
was marked with a degree of precision and accuracy
till that time altogether unknown in the observations of
their eclipses.
Ihe studies of Bailly were not entirely limited to
the cultivation of abstract science, or to profound phy¬
sical
B A I
Bailly. 8*ca^ speculations j bis genius shone with equal lustre
—tr-—1 in those departments of literature which require the
rare talent of nice discrimination of characters, and no
common power of eloquence, to reach excellence. The
eloges which he composed for Charles V. Corneille,
Leibnitz, Moliere, Cook, La Caille, and Cresset, were
universally admired as valuable specimens of fine writ¬
ing, and added much to his reputation. The distin¬
guished place of secretary of the Academy of Sciences
became vacant in 1771 ; and supported by the patron¬
age and influence of Buffon, he offered himself a candi¬
date. But here he was unsuccessful. Condorcet, who
was then rising into reputation, and was supported by
the active influence of D’Alembert, was preferred to
the office.
In the year 1775, he published at Paris the first
volume of the “ History of Ancient Astronomy.” The
second volume of the same work appeared in 1787.
In 1779 he gave to the world his “ History of Modern
Astronomy,” from the foundation of the Alexandrian
school to the present age. These works are of inesti¬
mable value, distinguished by animated description, lu¬
minous narration, and interesting detail. He also pu¬
blished a work entitled, “ Letters on the Origin of the
Sciences, and of the People of Asia j” which was after¬
wards followed by another series of “ Letters on the
Atlantis of Plato, and the ancient History of Asia,”
as a continuation of the same work. These volumes
were addressed to Voltaire, with whom he had com¬
menced an ingenious correspondence and discussion on
this curious subject. The coincidence of his opinions
W'ith those of Buflon in points respecting some of the
favourite theories of the latter, brought him into an in¬
timate acquaintance and close friendship with that ce¬
lebrated naturalist, which, however, declined and was
entirely dissolved, in consequence of the opposition
which Bailly made to the election of the abbe Maury
into the French Academy. Bailly had been chosen
secretary of this academy in 1784 ; and in the follow-
ing year he was admitted into the Academy of Inscrip¬
tions and Belles Lettres. This was the only instance,
since the time of Fontenelle, of the same person being
at once a member of all the three academies.
In the year 1784 he was nominated one of the com¬
mission to investigate the nature of the animal magne¬
tism of Mesmer, which was practised by Deslon; and he
drew up an elegant report, which was presented to the
Academy of Sciences. This report, which w'as soon
afterwards translated into English, not only marked the
acuteness and discernment of the author, and contained
the most satisfactory and decisive evidence with regard
to its object, but may be held up as an excellent model
of imitation for those who are engaged in similar in¬
vestigations. In developing the physical effects pro¬
duced by moral causes, it is of the greatest value ; and
it is particularly interesting when w'e consider the poli¬
tical influence which causes of this nature have imposed
on the general opinions of society, and even on the des¬
tiny of nations.
Hitherto we have contemplated Bailly in the shades
of retirement, and in the calm undisturbed retreats of
philosophy, employing the energy of a vigorous and
comprehensive mind in the profound researches of phy¬
sical truth : we are now to follow him in his political
career, and behold him struggling with the adverse in-
B A I
terests of party faction, and contending with the un- Bailly.
bridled fury of a lawdess mob, in defence of the rights —y—
of a people whose minds were not prepared to under¬
stand, and whose habits were not yet formed to enjoy,
the blessings of rational liberty. He was one of the
first and most zealous promoters of the revolution in
f ranee,—a revolution which not only astonished and
convulsed all Europe, but of which the immediate con¬
sequences to themselves, and to their country, were nei¬
ther foreseen nor imagined by those who embarked in
it, nor can its ultimate effects even at the present pe¬
riod be appreciated or conjectured,—a revolution which
holds out an awfpl lesson to the leaders of popular fac¬
tion to curb and repress, rather than to excite and en¬
courage, that spirit of tumult and disorder among a
people thrown loose from the necessary restraints of
law, which bursts forth with ungovernable fury, and
at last involves all in one general ruin. In the part
which he acted in this bloody struggle, Bailly has had
the good fortune to be well spoken of by opposite par¬
ties. He has not been charged with want of integrity
or selfish designs in any part of his conduct *, but actu¬
ated by a misguided zeal, and dazzled with the pro¬
spect of freedom which the warmth of imagination
held out, he rashly stepped forward in a cause which
he espoused with enthusiasm, and supported with his
utmost exertions. But in that cause he fell a sacri¬
fice to the unrelenting spirit of violence and party fac¬
tion which had been roused, and which could neither
be subdued nor regulated. When the states-general
of France were assembled in 1789, he was elected a
deputy to the Tiers Etat; was afterwards chosen presi¬
dent j and when the national assembly was constituted,
he continued in the chair, and was president at the
time that the king’s proclamation was issued ordering
them to disperse. During the struggle which took
place between the popular part of the assemblies and
the court, Bailly was among the most forward in as¬
serting those popular rights which were then new in
I ranee : and he dictated the famous oath to the mem¬
bers of the Tiei'S Etat, “ to resist tyrants and tyranny,
and never to separate till they had obtained a free con¬
stitution.” On the 14th of July following, the day
on which the Bastile was stormed and taken by the
people, he was appointed, with universal consent, mayor
of Paris. In tins high office, he is allowed to have
discharged the arduous and difficult duties of it with
great integrity, courage, and moderation. And while
he held this conspicuous situation, he was a powerful
agent in promoting the various measures by which the
popular party prevailed over that of the court: and for
this, and various other popular actions, he obtained a
high degree of favour among the people. But the tide
of public opinion now swelled beyond all bounds •, no
restraint could oppose its violent course. The multi¬
tude, unshackled by the fetters of despotism, fond of
novelty, and with enthusiastic and unsettled notions of
freedom, daily panting for change, could bear no op¬
position. Bailly, who perhaps now saw when it was
too late the general disposition of the people to anar¬
chy, still wished the laws to be respected, and hoped by
their vigorous execution to restore and preserve tran¬
quillity. He ordered some deputies from the military,
insurgents of Nancy to be arrested, and he firmly oppo¬
sed the rash proceedings of Marat and Hubert j he be¬
came-
f 335 ]
B A I ' [ 336 ] B A I
Bailly came a member of a less promiscuous club than that ot
Bailment, the Jacobins j and exerted himself strongly to persuade
t ■»—the populace to permit the king and royal family to
depart to St Cloud. But these measures, which were
little relished by a frantic and lawless people, he lost
their confidence and favour. But what finally destroy¬
ed his popularity, was the tumultuous meeting of the
populace on the 17th of July 1791, to demand the
abolition of monarchy, when, being called by the na¬
tional assembly to disperse the mob, who had assaulted
the soldiery, he ordered the latter to fire, by which
40 persons were killed and above 100 wounded. 1 hus
become obnoxious to the people whom he had faithful¬
ly served, it was no longer desirable for him to hold
Ins charge. He therefore resigned his office at the
dissolution of the constituent assembly in the end of the
vear I79i« After this period he lived in retirement,
having resumed his philosophical researches. But the
times of bloody proscription approached, and he must
fall a sacrifice to the ferocious vengeance of the tyrant
who nowT bore unlimited sway. He was accordingly
denounced as an enemy to the republic, apprehended
and thrown into prison. He was arraigned before a
sanguinary tribunal, summarily condemned to death as
a conspirator, and was executed the day following,
near the spot where he had given the order for the mi¬
litary to fire on the people. On the day of execution,
his sufferings, which he bore with the utmost calmness
and magnanimity, were studiously protracted. Instead
of that sympathy and compassion which even the worst
and the lowest criminal often experiences when he is
about to expiate his offences with his life, he was treat¬
ed by an incensed and barbarous populace, with the
most ignominious indignity and cruelty. He wore the
red shirt, or badge of conspiracy, and was placed in a
cart, with his hands tied behind his back. During
the whole time of his progress to the place of execu¬
tion, the rain poured incessantly on his head. The
populace as he passed threw mud at him, and cruelly
insulted him with every kind of opprobrious language.
It was found necessary to remove the guillotine from
the place where it was first erected to firmer ground.
During this time he was forced to get out of the cart,
and walk round the field, to gratify more fully the im¬
placable and unrelenting malice of the mob. When he
was ascending the platform, a spectator who was near
him, in a tone of insult exclaimed, “ Bailly, you
tremble: “ Yes (he instantly replied), hut not with
fear.”
Thus perished Bailly in the 57th year of his age.
In his person he was tall, and of a sedate but striking
countenance. He possessed great firmness and decision
, °f character, but far removed from sullenness or apa¬
thy. Few philosophers have been more distinguished
in so many various departments of science and litera¬
ture, or have acquired such deserved reputation. In
his public stations, as well as in the retirement of do¬
mestic life, his integrity and disinterestedness remained
pure and untainted. In the time of his magistracy he
spent part of his fortune in relieving the wants of the
poor. His wife, whom he married in 1787, survived
him. She was the widow of Raymond Gaye, who had
fieen his intimate friend 25 years.
RAILMENl, in Zotu, is a delivery of goods in
trust upon a contract, expressed or implied, that the Bailment
trust shall be faithfully executed on the part of the [|
bailee. As if cloth be delivered, or (in our legal dia-Bah'tnidge
lect) bailed, to a taylor to make a suit of clothes, he ' v~~l
has it upon an implied contract to render it again when
made, and that in a workmanly manner. If money or
goods be delivered to a common carrier to convey
from Oxford to London, or from Glasgow to Edin¬
burgh, &c. he is under a contract in law to pav, or
carry them to the person appointed. If a horse or
other goods be delivered to an innkeeper or his ser¬
vants, he is hound to keep them safely, and restore
them when his guest leaves the house. If a man takes
in a horse, or other cattle, to graze and depasture in
his grounds, which the law calls agistment, he takes
them upon an implied contract to return them on de¬
mand to the owner. If a pawnbroker receives plate
or jewels as a pledge or security for the repayment of
money lent thereon ata t]ay certain, he has them upon
an express contract or condition to restore them if the
pledger performs his part by redeeming them in due
time ; for the due execution of which contract, many
useful regulations are made by statute 30 Geo. II. c. 24.
And so, if a landlord distrains goods for rent, or a pa¬
rish officer for taxes, these for a time are only a pledge
in the hands of the distrainers j and they are bound by
an implied contract in law to restore them on payment
of the debt, duty, and expences, before the time of sale ;
or when sold, to render back the overplus. If a friend
delivers any thing to his friend to keep for him, the re¬
ceiver is bound to restore it on demand : and it was for¬
merly held, that in the mean time he was answerable
for any damage or loss it might sustain, whether by ac¬
cident or otherwise $ unless he expressly nudertook to
keep it only with the same care as his own goods, and
then he should not be answerable for theft or other ac¬
cidents. But now the law seems to be settled on a
much more rational footing 5 that such a general bail¬
ment will not charge the bailee with any loss, unless it
happens by gross neglect, which is construed to be an
evidence of fraud r but if the bailee undertakes speci¬
ally to keep the goods safely and securely, he is bound
to answer all perils and damages that may befal them
for want of the same care with which a prudent man
would keep his own.
B AILO $ thus they style at Constantinople the am¬
bassador of the republic of Venice, who resides at the
Porte. This minister, besides the political charge, acts
there the part of a consul of Venice.
BAINBRIDGE, Dr John, an eminent physician
and astronomer, born at Ashby de la Zouche in Lei¬
cestershire, in 1582. He taught a grammar school for
some years, and practised physic, employing his leisure
hours in astronomy, which was his favourite study : at
length he removed to London, was admitted a fellow
of the college of physicians, and raised bis character by
his description of the comet in 1618. The next year
Sir Henry Savile appointed him his first professor of
astronomy at Oxford j and the masters and fellows of
Merton-college made him first junior, and then supe¬
rior, reader of Linacre’s lecture. He died in 1643,
having written many works, some of which have never
been published : but the MSS. are preserved in the li¬
brary of Trinity-college, Dublin.
BAIOCAO,
B A I [
3*iocao BAIOCAO, a copper coin, current at Rome,  
ii throughout the whole state of the church, ten of which
Baiting. make a julio, and a hundred a Roman crown.
u'"l—v BAIRAM, or Beiram, a Turkish word which
*igni(ies a solemn feast. The Mahometans have two
Bairams, the Great and the Little. The Little Bairam
is properly that held at the close of the fast Ramazan,
beginning with the first full moon in the following
month Shawal. This is called in Arabic Id al Fetx,
or the Feast of breaking the Fast; by European writers,
the Turkish Easter, because it succeeds Ramazan,
which is their Lent, more usually the Great Bairam,
because observed with great ceremony and rejoicing at
Constantinople, and through Turkey, for three days,
and in Persia for five six days, at least by the com¬
mon people, to make themselves amends for the mor¬
tification of the preceding month. The feast com¬
mencing with the new moon, the Mahometans are very
scrupulous in observing the time when the new moon
commences ; to which purpose, observers are sent to
the tops of the highest mountains, who, the moment
they spy the appearance of a new moon, run to the
city, and proclaim Muzhdaluk, “ welcome newsas
it is the signal for beginning the festivity.—The Great
Bairam, is properly that held by the pilgrims at Mec¬
ca, commencing on the tenth of Dhu’lhajia, when the
victims are slain, and lasting three drys. This is called
by the Arabs Id al adha, that is, the feast of sacrifice,
as being celebrated in memory of the sacrifice of A-
bram, whose son God redeemed with a great victim.
By European writers it is called the Lesser Bairam,
as being less taken notice of by the generality of the
people, who are not struck with it, because the cere¬
monies it is observed withal, are performed at Mecca,
the only scene of the solemnity.—On the feast of
Bairam, after throwing little stones, one after another,
into the valley of Mina, they usually kill one or more
sheep, some a goat, bullock, or even a camel} and af¬
ter giving a part thereof to the poor, eat the rest with
their friends. After this, they shave themselves. The
second is a day of rest. On the third, they set out on
their return home.
BAIRUT. See Beeroot.
BAIT, among fishermen, implies a substance proper
to be fastened to a hook, in order to catch the different
sorts of fish. See Fishing.
BAITING, the act of smaller or weaker beasts at¬
tacking and harassing greater and stronger. In this
sense we hear of the baiting of bulls or bears by mas-
tifis or bull-dogs with short noses, that they may take
the better hold.
Utility is pled in justification of bull-baiting. This
animal is rarely killed without being first baited $ the
chafing and exercise whereof makes his flesh tenderer
and more digestible. In reality, it disposes it for pu¬
trefaction 5 so that, unless taken in time, baited flesh is
soon lost. But a spirit of barbarism had the greatest
share in supporting the sport: bulls are kept on pur¬
pose, and exhibited as standing spectacles for the public
entertainment. The poor beasts have not fair play:
they are not only tied down to a stake, with a collar
about their necks and a short rope, which gives them
not above four or five yards play $ but they are disarm
«d too, and the tips of their horns cut off, or covered
With leather, to prevent their hurting the dogs. In
, Vol. III. Part I. S t
3.57 1 BA K.
and this sport, the chief aim of the dog is to catch the hull
by the nose, and hold him down j to which end he will
even creep on his belly : the bull’s aim, on the contra¬
ry, is, with equal industry, to defend his nose j in or¬
der to which, he thrusts it close to the ground, where
his horns are also in readiness to toss the dog.—Bull-
baiting was first introduced into England as an amuse¬
ment in the reign of King John, about 1209.
BAJULUS, an ancient officer in the court of the
Greek emperors. There were several degrees of bajuli;
as, the grand bajulus, who was preceptor to the em¬
peror j and the simple bajuli, who were sub-preceptors.
The word is derived from the Latin verb bajularci
“ to carry or bear a thing on the arms or on the shoul¬
ders $” and the origin of the office is thus traced by
antiquaries. Children, and especially those of condi¬
tion, had anciently, beside their nurse, a woman called
gerula, as appears from several passages of Tertullian ;
when weaned, or ready to be weaned, they had men
to carry them about and take care of them, who were
called geruli and bajuli, a gerendo et bajulando. Hence
it is, that governors of princes and great lords were still
denominated bajuh, and their charge or government
bajulatio, even after their pupils were grown too big to
be carried about. The word passed in the same sense
into Greece.
Bajulus is also used by Latin writers in the several
other senses wherein Bailiff is used among us.
Bajulus was also the name of a conventual officer in
the ancient monasteries, to whom belonged the charge
of gathering and distributing the money and legacies
left for masses and obits j whence he was also denonri-
nated bajulus obituum novorum.
BAKAN, a large and handsome town of Asia in
the East Indies, in the kingdom of Ava. E. Long.
98. o. N. Lat. 19. 33.
BAKER, Sir Richard, author of the Chronicle
of the Kings of England, was born at Sessingherst, in
Kent, about the year 1568. After going through
the usual course of academical learning at Hart-hall,
in Oxford, he travelled into foreign parts j and upon
his return home was created master of arts, and soon
after, in 1603, received from King James I. the ho¬
nour of knighthood. In 1620, he was high sheriff of
Oxfordshire j but engaging to pay some of the debts
of his wife’s family, he was reduced to poverty, and
obliged to betake himself for shelter to the Fleet prison,
where he composed several books 5 among which are,
1. Meditations and Disquisitions on the Lord’s Prayer.
2. Meditations, &c. on several of the Psalms of David.
3. Meditations and Prayers upon the seven Days of the
Week. 4. Cato Variegatus, or Cato’s Moral Distichs
varied, &c.—Mr Granger observes, that his Chronicle
of the Kings of England was ever more esteemed by
readers of a lower class than by such as had a criti¬
cal knowledge of history. The language of it was, in
this reign, called polite 5 and it long maintained its
reputation, especially among country gentlemen. The
author seems to have been sometimes more studious to
please than to inform, and with that view to have sa¬
crificed even chronology itself to method. In 1658,
Edward Philips, nephew to Milton, published a third
edition of this work, with the addition of the reign of
Baiting
II
Bak<.-r
Charles I. It has been several times reprinted since,
and is now carried as low as the reign of George I.
U a Sir
B A K [ 338 ] B A K
Biker. Sir Richard also translated several works from the
—v—1 French and Italian 5 and died very poor in the Fleet
prison, on the 18th of February 1645.
Baker, Thomas, an eminent mathematician, was
born at Ilton in Somersetshire about the year 1625,
and entered at Magdalen hall, Oxon, in 1640 ; after
which he was vicar of Bishop’s-Nymmet, in Devon¬
shire, where he wrote The Geometrical Key, or the
Gate of Equations unlocked ; by which he gained a
considerable reputation. A little before his death, the
members of the Royal Society sent him some mathema¬
tical queries, to which he returned so satisfactory an
answer, that they presented him a medal with an in¬
scription full of honour and respect. He died at Bi¬
shop’s Nymmet on the 5th of June 1690.
Baker, Thomas, a very ingenious and learned
antiquary, descended from a family ancient and well
esteemed, distinguished by its loyalty and affection for
the crown, was born at Crook in 1656. He was edu¬
cated at the free school at Durham, and thence remo¬
ved to St John’s college Cambridge in 1674. He pro¬
ceeded B. A. 1677 j M. A. 1681 j was elected fellow',
March 1679-80 j ordained deacon by Bishop Compton
of London, December 20. 1685 •, priest by Bishop Bar-
low of Lincoln, December 19. 1686. Dr Watson tu¬
tor of the college, who was nominated, but not yet
consecrated, bishop of St David’s, offered to take him
for his chaplain, which he declined, probably on the
prospect of a like offer from Lord Crew bishop of Dur¬
ham, which he soon after accepted. His lordship
collated him to the rectory of Long-Newton in his
diocese, and the same county, June 1687 > and» as
Dr Grey was informed by some of the bishop’s family,
intended to have given him that of Sedgefield, worth
6ool. or 700I. a-year, with a golden prebend, had
he not incurred his displeasure and left his family for
refusing to read King James II.’s declaration for liber¬
ty of conscience. J he bishop, who disgraced him for
this refusal, and was excepted out of King William’s
pardon, took the oaths to that king, and kept his bi¬
shopric till his death. Mr Baker resigned Long New¬
ton August!. 1690, refusing to take the oaths; and
retired to his fellowship at St John’s, in which he was
protected till January 20. 1716-17, when, with one-
an.d twenty others, he was dispossessed of it. After
the passing the Registering Act 1723, he was desired
to register his annuity of 40I. which the last act re¬
quired before it was amended and explained. Though
this annuity, left him by his father for his fortune,
with 20!. per annum out of his collieries by his elder
brother from the day of his death August* 1699, for
the remaining part of the lease, which determined at
Whitsuntide 1722, was now his whole subsistence, he
could not be prevailed on to secure himself, against the
act. He letained a lively resentment of his depriva¬
tions ; and wrote himself in all his books, as well as
in those which he gave to the college library, socius
ejectus, and in some ejectus rector. Fie continued to
reside in the college as commoner-master, till his death,
which happened July 2. 1740, of a paralytic stroke’
being found on the floor of his chamber. ' In the af¬
ternoon of June 29. being alone in his chamber, he
was struck with a slight apoplectic fit ; which abating
a little, he recovered his senses, 'and knew all about
tRm, who were his nephew Burton, Drs Bedford and
3
Heberden. He seemed perfectly satisfied and resigned;
and when Dr Bedford desired him to take some medi- r
cine then ordered, he declined it, saying, he would
only take his usual sustenance, which his bed-maker
knew the times and quantities of giving : he was thank¬
ful for the affection and care his friends showed him ;
but, hoping the time of his dissolution was at hand,
would by no means endeavour to retard it. His dis¬
order increased, and the third day from this seizure he
departed. Being appointed one of the executors of
his elder brother’s will, by which a large sum was be¬
queathed to pious uses, he prevailed on the other two
executors, who were his other brother Francis and the
Hon. Charles Montagu, to lay out 1310I. of the mo¬
ney upon an estate to be settled upon St John’s college
for six exhibitioners. He likewise gave the college
look for the consideration of 61. a-year (then only
legal interest) for his life ; and to the library several
choice books, both printed and MS. medals, and coins;
(besides what he left to it by his will; which were “ all
such books, printed and MS. as he had, and were
wanting there.” All that Mr Baker printed was,
1. “ Reflections on Learning, showing the insufficiency
thereof in its several particulars, in order to evince the
usefulness and necessity of Revelation, Lond. 1709-10,”
(which went through eight editions : and Mr Boswel,
in his “ Method of Study,” ranks it among the Eng-
glish classics for purity of style) ; and, 2. The pre¬
face to Bishop Fisher’s Funeral Sermon for Margaret
countess of Richmond and Derby, 1708; both with¬
out his name. Dr Grey had the original MS. of both
in his own hands. The latter piece is a sufficient spe¬
cimen of the editor’s skill in antiquities to make us
regret that he did not live to publish his “ History of
St John’s College from the foundation of old St John’s
house to the present time; w'ith some occasional and inci¬
dental account of the affairs of the university, and of such
private colleges as held communication or intercourse
with the old house or college: collected principally from
MSS. and carried on through a succession of masters to
the end of Bishop Gunning’s mastership, 1670.” The
original, fit for the press, is among the Harleian MSS.
N° 7028. His MS. collections relative to the history
and antiquities of the university of Cambridge, amount¬
ing to 49 volumes in folio and three in quarto, are di¬
vided between the British Museum and the public lib¬
rary at Cambridge ; the former possesses 23 volumes,
which he bequeathed to the earl of Oxford, his friend
and patron ; the latter 16 in folio and three in quarto,
which he bequeathed to the university. Dr Knight
styles him “ the greatest master of the antiquities of
this our university and Hearne says, Optandum est
ul sua qitoque collectanea de anti quit atilms Cantabrigi-
ensibus juris faciat publici Cl. Bakerus, quippe qui emi-
ditwne summa judicioque acri et subacto polleat. Mr
Baker intended something like an Athence Cantabrigi-
enses, on the plan of the Athence Oxonienses.
Baker, Henry, an ingenious and diligent natu¬
ralist, u'as born in Fleet-street London, either near
the end of the 17th, or very early in the beginning of
the 18th, century. His father’s profession is not
known ; but his mother was, in her time, a midwife
of great practice. He was brought up under an emi¬
nent bookseller, who preceded the elder Dodsley, to the
business of a bookseller; in which, however, he ap¬
pears
-
B A K t 339 ] B A K
« jjaker. l>ears n°t to have engaged at all after his apprentice-
' u—v—-»sl)ipj or, if he did, it was soon relinquished by him;
for though it was in his power to have drawn away all
his master’s best customers, he would not set up against
him. Mr Baker being of a philosophical turn of
mind, and having diligently attended to the methods
which might be practicable and useful in the cure of
stammering, and especially in teaching deaf and dumb
persons to speak, he made this the employment of his
life. In the prosecution of so valuable and difficult an
undertaking, he was very successful $ and several of
his pupils, who are still living, bear testimony to the
ability and good effect of his instructions. He mar¬
ried Sophia, youngest daughter of the famous Daniel
Defoe, who brought him two sons, both of whom he
survived. On the 29th of January 1740, Mr Baker
was elected a fellow of the Society of Antiquaries $
and, on the 12th of March following, the same ho¬
nour was conferred upon him by the Royal Society.
In 1744, Sir Godfrey’s Copley’s gold medal was bestow¬
ed upon him, for having, by his microscopical experi¬
ments on the crystallizations and configuration of sa¬
line particles, produced the most extraordinary disco¬
very during that year. Having led a very useful and
honourable life, he died at his apartments in the Strand
on the 25th of November 1774, being then above 70
years of age. His wife had been dead some time
before j and he only left one grandson, William Baker,
who was born February 17. 1763, and to whom, on
his living to the age of 21, he bequeathed the bulk of
his fortune, which he had acquired by his profession
of teaching deaf and dumb persons to speak. His
furniture, printed books (but not MSS.), curiosities,
and collections of every sort, he directed should be
sold, which was accordingly done. His fine collection
of native and foreign fossils, petrifactions, shells, corals,
vegetables, ores, &c. with some antiquities and other
curiosities, were sold by auction March 13. 1775, and
the nine following days. He was buried, as he desired,
in an unexpensive manner, in the churchyard of St
Mary-le-strand; within which church, on the south
Wall, he ordered a small tablet to be erected to his
memory. “ An inscription for it (he said) would
probably be found among his papers; if not, he hoped
some learned friend would write one agreeable to truth.”
This friendly office, however, remains as yet to be
performed. Mr Baker was a constant and useful at¬
tendant at the meetings of the Royal and Antiquarian
Societies, and in both was frequently chosen one of
the council. He was peculiarly attentive to all the
new improvements which were made in natural science,
and very solicitous for the prosecution of them. Se¬
veral of his communications are printed in the Philo-
> sophical Transactions 5 and besides the papers written
by himself, he was the means, by his extensive corre¬
spondence, of conveying to the society the intelli¬
gence and observations of other inquisitive and philo¬
sophical men, both at home and abroad. The Socie¬
ty for the encouragement of arts, manufactures, and
commerce, is under singular obligations to our worthy
naturalist. As he was one of the earliest members of
it, so he contributed in no small degree to its rise and
establishment. At its first institution he officiated for
some time gratis as secretary. He was many years
chairman of the committee of accounts; and he took
an active part in the general deliberations of the so- Baker,
ciety. He drew up a short account of the original of —y—-
this society, and of the concern he himself had in
forming it; which was read before the society of anti¬
quaries, and would be a pleasing present to the public.
Mr Baker was a poetical writer in the early part of
his life. His Invocation of Health got abroad with¬
out his knowledge ; but was reprinted by himself in
his Original Poems, serious and humorous, Part 1. 8vo.
1725. Part II. came out in 1726. Among these
poems are some tales as witty and as loose as Prior’s.
He was the author likewise of The Universe, a poem
intended to restrain the pride of man 5 which has been
several times reprinted. His account of the water po¬
lype, which was originally published in the Philosophi¬
cal Transactions, was afterwards enlarged into a sepa¬
rate treatise, and hath gone through several editions.
But his principal publications are, The Microscopj made
Easy, and Employment for the Microscope. The first
of these, which was originally published in 1742 or
1743, hath gone through six editions. The second
edition of the other, which, to say the least of it, is
equally pleasing and instructive, appeared in 1764.
These treatises, and especially the latter, contain the
most curious and important of the observations and
experiments which Mr Baker either laid before the
Royal Society or published separately. It has been
said of Mr Baker, that he was a philosopher in little
things. If it was intended by this language to lessen
his reputation, there is no propriety in the stricture.
He was an intelligent, upright, and benevolent man,
much respected by those who knew him best. His
friends were the friends of science and virtue : and it
will always be remembered by his contemporaries,
that no one was more ready than himself to assist
those with whom he was conversant in their various re¬
searches and endeavours for the advancement of know¬
ledge and the benefit of society.
Baker, David Erskine, son to the former, was a
young man of genius and learning. Having been
adopted by an uncle, who was a silk-throwster in Spital-
fields, he succeeded him in the business j but wanted
the prudence and attention which are necessary to se¬
cure prosperity in trade. He married the daughter of
Mr Clendon, a reverend empiric. Like his father, he
Was botli a philosopher and a poet; and wrote several
occasional poems in the periodical collections, some of
which were much admired at the time ; but so violent
was his turn for dramatic performance, that he repeat¬
edly engaged with the lowest strolling companies, in
spite of every effort of his father to reclaim him. The
public was indebted to him for “ The Companion to
the Play-house,” in two volumes, 1764, I2mo; a work
which, though imperfect, had considerable merit, and
showed that he possessed a very extensive knowledge of
our dramatic authors ; and which has since (under the
title ol “ Biographia D ramatica”) been considerably
improved by the attention of a gentleman in every re¬
spect well qualified for the undertaking.
Baker, a person whose occupation or business is to
bake bread. See the articles Baking and Bread.
The learned are in great doubt about the time when
baking first became a particular profession, and bakers
were introduced. It is however generally agreed, that
they had their rise in the east, and passed from Gretce
U u 2 to
B A K. £ 340
to Italy after the war with Pyrrhus, about the year of
Koine 583. Till which time every housewife was her
own baker 5 for the word pistor, which we find in Ro¬
man authors before that time, signified a person who
ground or pounded the grain in a mill or mortar to
prepare it for baking, as Varro observes. According
to Athenseus, the Cappadocians were the most ap¬
plauded bakers, after them the Lydians, then the
Phoenicians.—To the foreign bakers brought into
Rome, were added a number of freedmen, who were
incorporated into a body, or, as they called it, a college ;
from which neither they nor their children were al¬
lowed to withdraw. They held their effects in com¬
mon, and could not dispose of any part of them. Each
bake-house had a patronus, who had the superinten¬
dency thereof; and these patroni elected one out of
their number each year, who had superintendence over
all the rest, and the care of the college. Out of the
body of the bakers every now and then one was ad¬
mitted among the senators.—To preserve honour and
honesty in the college of bakers, they were expressly
prohibited all alliance with comedians and gladiators j
each had his shop or bake-house, and they were distri¬
buted into fourteen regions of the city. They were
excused from guardianships and other offices, which
might divert them from their employment.—By our
own statutes, bakers are declared not to be handicrafts.
No man for using the mysteries or sciences of baking,
brewing, surgery, or writing, shall be interpreted a
handicraft. The bakers were a brotherhood in Eng¬
land before the year 1155, in the reign of King Henry
II. though the white bakers were not incorporated till
I4°7, by King Edward III. and the brown bakers
not till 1621, in King James I.’s time. Their hall
is in Harp-lane, J hames-street j and their court-day on
the first Monday of the month.—They make the 19th
company; and consist of a warden, 4 masters, 30 as¬
sistants, and 140 men on the livery, besides the com¬
monalty.—The French had formerly a great baker,
grand panetier de France, who had the superinten¬
dency of all the bakers of Paris. But since the begin¬
ning of this century, they have been put under the
jurisdiction of the lieutenant-general de police. In some
provinces of France, the lord is the only baker in his
seigneury j keeping a public oven, to which all the
tenants are obliged to bring their bread. This right
is czWe&furnagium, oy furnaticum, and makes part of
the bannalite.
• ^KEWELL, a pretty large town of Derbyshire
in England, seated on the river Wye, on the north
It has a considerable trade in lead.
W. Long. 2. 30. N. Lat. 55. 15.
BAKING, the art of preparing bread, or reducing
meals of any kind, whether simple or compound, into
bread. See the article Bread.
The various forms of baking among us may be re¬
duced into two, the one for unleavened, the other for
leavened bread. For the first the chief is manchet-
baking ; and the process whereof is as follows: The
meal, ground and boulted, is put into a trough ; and to
every bushel are poured in about three pints of warm
ale, with barm and salt to season it. This is kneaded
well together with the hands through the brake: or,
lor want thereof, with the feet, through a cloth > after
winch, having lam an hour to swell, it is moulded into
] B A K
manchets ; which, scotched in the middle, and pricked
up at top, to give room to rise, are baked in the oven
by a gentle fire.—For the second, sometimes called
cheat-bread baking, it is thus : Some leaven (saved from
a former batch) filled with salt, laid up to sour, and at
length dissolved in water, is strained through a cloth
into a hole made in the middle of the heap of meal in
the trough ; then it is worked with some of the flour
into a moderate consistence j this is covered up with
meal, where it lies all night; and in the morning the
whole heap is stirred up, and mixed with a little warm
water, barm, and salt, by which it is seasoned, soft¬
ened, and brought to an even leaven : it is then knead¬
ed, moulded, and baked, as before.
Method of raising a bushel of flour with a tea-spoon¬
ful of barm; by James Stone, of Amport, in Hamp-
Baking,
shire.—Suppose you want to bake a bushel of flour,
and have but one tea-spoonful of barm.—Put your
flour into your kneading-trough or trendle j then take
about three quarters of a pint of warm water, and take
the tea-spoonful of thick steady barm and put it into
the water J stir it until it is thoroughly mixed with the
water : then make a hole in the middle of the flour large
enough to contain two gallons of water 5 pour in your
small quantity; then take a stick about two feet long,
(which you may keep for that purpose), and stir in
some of the flour, until it is as thick as you would make
batter for a pudding 5 then strew some of the dry flour
over it, and go about your usual business for about an
hour : then take about a quart of warm water more,
and pour in $ for in one hour you will find that small
quantity raised so, that it will break through the dry
flour which you shook over it 5 and when you have
poured in the quart of warm water, take your stick as
before, and stir in some more flour, until it is as thick
as before j then shake some more dry flour over it, and
leave it for two hours more, and then you will find it
rise and break through the dry flour again j then you
may add three quarts or a gallon of water more, and
stir in the flour and make it as thick as at first, and
cover it with dry flour again j in about three or four
hours more you may mix up your dough, and then
cover it up warm $ and in four or five hours more you
may put it into the oven, and you will have as light
bread as though you had put a pint of barm. It does
not take above a quarter of an hour more time than
the usual way of baking, for there is no time lost but
that of adding water three or four times.
Hie author of this method assures us, that he con-
stantly bakes this way in the morning about six or seven
o’clock, puts the flour out, and puts this small quantity
of barm into the before-mentioned quantity of water, in
an hour’s time some more, in two hours more a greater
quantity, about noon makes up the dough, and about
six in the evening it is put into the oven, and he has
always good bread, never heavy nor bitter.
When you find, he says, your body of flour spunged
large enough, before you put in the rest of your water,
you should, with both your hands, mix that which is
spunged and the dry flour altogether, and then add the
remainder of warm water, and your dough will rise the
better and easier.
. ^ ne reason he assigns why people make heavy bread-
is, not because they have not barm enough, but be¬
cause they do not know that barm is the same to flour?
B A L [ 34T ] B A L
Baking as ^re 13 ^l,e^ > as a sPar^ fire vv'^ kindle a
|| large body by only blowing of it up, so will a thimble-
Balaam. full of barm, by adding of warm water, raise or spunge
—r—^ any body of flour; for warm water gives fresh life to
to that which is before at work*, so that the reason of
making bread heavy is, because the body spunged is
not large enough, but was made up and put into the
oven before it was ripe.
In regard to the difference of seasons, he prescribes,
that in the summer you should put your water blood-
warm } and in winter, in cold frosty weather, as warm
as you can bear your hand in it without making it
smart *, being sure you cover up your dough very warm
in the winter, and your covering of it with dry flour
every time you add warm water, will keep in the heat;
when you have added six or eight quarts of warm wa¬
ter, as before mentioned, in such a gradual way, you
will find all the body of flour which is mixed with the
warm water, by virtue of that one tea-spoonful of barm,
brought into great agitation, waxing or fermenting;
for it is to the flour what the spirit is to the body. See
Baking, Supplement.
BAKOU, or Baku, a town of Persia, in the pro¬
vince of Shirvan, situated at the extremity of the gulf
of Ghilan on the Caspian sea. It is esteemed the most
commodious haven in this sea, as vessels may there ride
securely at anchor in seven fathom water ; but the
number of shoals, islands, and sand-banks, render the
entrance in some places extremely difficult and danger¬
ous, particularly to the Russians, who are not very ex¬
pert sailors. Baku is a fortress surrounded with high
brick walls ; its inhabitants, like those of Derbent, are
Persians, Tartars, and a few Armenian merchants.
The principal articles of exportation which support the
trade of this place are naphtha, and the finest rock salt,
of both which there are mines on the east side of the
bay. The inhabitants cultivate saffron and the cotton
tree, but not to any considerable advantage. The trade
of Baku, though more valuable than that of Derbent,
is still inconsiderable, and chiefly carried on with Sha-
makee, from whence it draws raw silk and silken stufts.
A Russian consul is resident at this place. In 1777
Baku belonged to Melik-Mehmed, who was tributary
to Feth Ali khan of Kuba : the latter possessed the
whole province of Shirvan, and was the most powerful
prince, next to the khan of Ghilan, upon the coast of
the Caspian. Before we quit the province of Shirvan,
it may not be improper to mention its capital, the in¬
land town of Shamakee, which is only 66 miles from
Baku, and supplies that port with raw silk and silken
stuffs. It owed its former commercial importance to
the silk which is cultivated in the neighbouring di¬
strict 5 this rich production still preserves the town from
ruin; though its traffic is greatlv reduced by the ex¬
orbitant exactions of the khan of Kuba. Formerly the
Russians had a factory at this place ; and it was also
crowded with Turkish and Greek merchants ; but at
present there are only a few Armenian and Indian
traders. The inhabitants manufacture silk and cotton
stuffs, but far inferior to those made at this place in the
beginning of the present century. The silk of this
province is exported into the interior part of Persia,
Turkey, Georgia, and Russia. E. Long. 51. 30. N.
Lat. 40. 20.
BALAAM, a prophet and diviner of the city, of
Pethor upon the Euphrates, whose practices with Ba-
lak king of the Moabites are recorded in the book of1
Numbers, chap. xxii. It is a question much debated
among divines, whether Balaam was a true prophet of
God, or no more than a magician or fortune-teller.
The Jews indeed are generally of opinion, that he was
a busy and pretending astrologer, who, observing when
men were under a bad aspect of the stars, pronounced
a curse upon them ; which sometimes coming to pass,
gained him in some neighbouring nations a reputation
in his way. Several of the ancient fathers suppose him
to be no more than a common soothsayer, who under¬
took to tell future events, and discover secrets, and by
no very justifiable arts. Origen will needs have it,
that he was no prophet, but only one of the devil’s
sorcerers, and that of him he went to inquire ; but that
God was pleased to prevent him, and put what answers
he pleased into his mouth. It cannot be denied, how¬
ever, that the scripture expressly calls him a prophet
(Pet. ii. 5.) ; and therefore some later writers have
imagined that he had once been a good man and true
prophet, till loving the wages of iniquity, and prosti¬
tuting the honour of his office to covetousness, he apo¬
statized from God, and betaking himself to idolatrous
practices, fell under the delusion of the devil, of whom
he learned all his magical enchantments, though at
this juncture, when the preservation of his people was-
concerned, it might be consistent with God’s wisdom
to appear to him, and vouchsafe his revelations. As
to what passed between him and his ass, when that ani¬
mal was miraculously enabled to speak to its master,
commentators are divided in their opinions concerning
this fact, whether it really and literally happened as
Moses relates it; or whether it be an allegory only, or
the mere imagination or vision of Balaam. This in¬
deed is so wonderful an instance, that several of the
Jewish doctors, who upon other occasions are fond
enough of miracles, seem as if they would hardly be
induced to assent to this. Philo, in his Life of Moses,
passes it over in silence ; and Maimonides pretends that
it happened to Balaam in a prophetic vision only* But
St Peter (2 Pet. ii. 16.) speaks of this fact as literal
and certain, and so all interpreters explain it. St Au¬
stin, who understands it exactly according to the letter,
finds nothing in the whole account more surprising than
the stupidity of Balaam, who heard his ass speak to
him, and answered it as if he talked with a reasonable
person. He is of opinion, that this diviner was accu¬
stomed to prodigies like this, or that he was strangely
blinded by his avarice not to he stopped by an event
of so extraordinary a nature. Le Clerc thinks, that
Balaam might probably have imbibed the doctrine of
transmigration of souls, which was certainly very com¬
mon in the east; and from thence he might be the less
astonished at hearing a brute speak. And Dr Patrick
thinks that Balaam was in such a rage and fury at the
supposed perverseness of his beast crushing his foot, that
for the present be could think of nothing else; though
the conciseness of Moses’s relation, who must be pre¬
sumed to have omitted many circumstances, which if
rightly known would dispel this and many more diffi¬
culties that may be imagined in this transaction, does
certainly furnish us with a better and more satisfactory
answer. St Austin is of opinion, that God had not gi¬
ven tire ass a.reasonable soul; but permitted it to pro¬
nounce V
Balaam,
 v—^
B A L [ 342 1 B A L
Balaam bounce certain words, in order to reprove the pro-
|| phet’s covetousness. Gregory of Nyssa seems to think.
Balagate that the ass did not utter any word articulately or di-
Mountaius. st;nct]y. |,ut that, having brayed as usual, the diviner,
whose practice it had been to draw presages from the
cries of beasts and singing of birds, comprehended easily
the ass’s meaning by its noise 5 Moses, designing to ri¬
dicule this superstitious art of augurs and soothsayers,
as if the ass really spoke in words articulate*
We must own, says Calmet, that this is a miraculous
fact related by an inspired writer, whose authority we
are not allowed to call in question in the least particu¬
lar : but we should study such ways of explaining it as
are most conformable to reason, and most proper to solve
the difficulties of it, without attacking the truth of the
history. Now it is very possible for God to make an ass
speak articulately ; it is indeed miraculous, and above
the ordinary faculty of this animal, but not against the
laws of nature.
BALADAN, the scripture name for a king of Ba¬
bylon (Is. xxxix. I. 2 Kings xx. I2.)> called by pro¬
fane authors Belesus, or Belesis, Nabonassar, or ISiarry-
brus. Baladan at first was no more than governor of
Babylon ; but entering into a confederacy with Ar-
baces governor of Media, and rebelling against Sarda-
napalus king of Assyria, these two generals marched
against him with an army of 400,000 men, and were
beat in three different battles. But the Bactrians de¬
serting the king, and coming over to Baladan and Ar-
baces, the rebels attacked the enemy in the night, and
made themselves masters of his camp. After this mis¬
fortune, Sardanapalus retreated to Nineveh, and left
the command of his army to his brother-in-law Sala-
menes. The conspirators attacked Salamenes, and de¬
feated him in two great battles ; after which they laid
siege to Nineveh. Sardanapalus sustained the siege for
three years ; but the Tigris, in the third year, over¬
flowing its banks, beat down 20 furlongs of the walls;
whereupon the conspirators entered the city and took
possession of it, after Sardanapalus had burnt himself
and all his most valuable effects upon a funeral pile
erected for that purpose in his palace. Baladan was
acknowledged king of Babylon as Arbaces was of
Media. Berodach-baladan, who sent ambassadors to
Hezekiah (2 Kings xx.), was the son of Baladan.
BALA, a town of Merionethshire in Wales. W.
Long- 3- 37- N. Lat. 52. 54.
BALiENA, or Whale. See Cetology Index.
BALAGATE, a province of Hindostan, and the
largest of the three that compose the kingdom of
Dekkan. It has Kandish and Barar to the north,
Tellinga to the east, Baglana with part of Guzerat to
the west, and Visiapour to the south. It is a fruit¬
ful and pleasant country, abounding with cotton and
sugar. Here they have sheep without horns ; but so
strong, that when bridled and saddled they will carry
boys of ten years of age. Its present capital is Au-
rengabad, but formerly was Dovvlet-Abad ; and from
the latter the whole province is sometimes called Dow-
let-Abad.
Balagate Mountains, a chain of mountains which
divides the coast of Malabar from that of Coromandel,
lunning almost the whole length of the peninsula on
i us side the Ganges. Some parts of them are covered
V ith fine red earth, which is blown by the strong west
winds as far as the island of Ceylon ; and when the « 1
rays of the sun are reflected from these mountains, Mountai
they seem to be all on fire. They make surprising al- |]
terations in the seasons; for on the north side of Cape ^ala»«
Comorin, it is winter in May, June, July, August,
and September, in which months it is summer on the
south side of the cape ; on one side there are continual
tempests, thunder, and lightning, while the other enjoys
a constant serenity. When black clouds are gathered
about the mountains, they are followed by sudden rain,
which causes the overflowing of the rivers, and chokes
them up with sand, insomuch that they are unnavigable,
for some time afterwards. The buildings and clothes
of the inhabitants are scarcely sufficient to defend them
from the weather. They live upon rice, milk, roots,
and herbs, with very little meat ; they have likewise a
sort of small arrack, but are never given to drunken¬
ness ; nor do they import foreign vices, for they never
travel abroad.
BALAGNIA, a town of Muscovy, in the province
of Saratow, seated on the Wolga. E. Long. 45. 5.
N. Lat. 50. 36.
BALAGUER, a city of Catalonia in Spain, seated,
on the north bank of the river Segra, at the foot of a
high mountain, on which there was formerly a fortress.
E. Long. o. 48. N. Lat. 41. 38.
BALAMBUAN, or Padambuan, a strong town
of Asia, in the Indies, on the east end of the island of
Java, and capital of a territory of the same name. E.
Long. X14. 10. S. Lat. 7. 50.
BALANCE, one of the six simple powers, in me¬
chanics, principally used in determining the equality or
difference of weights in heavy bodies, and consequent¬
ly their masses or quantities of matter.
The balance is of two kinds : the ancient and the
modern. The ancient or Roman, called also the sta-
tera Romana, or steel-yard, consists of a lever or beam,
moveable on a centre, and suspended near one of its
extremities : the bodies to be weighed are applied on
one side of the centre ; and their weight is shewn by
the division marked on the beam, where the weight,
which is moveable along the lever, keeps the steel-yard
in equilibria. This balance is still frequently used in
weighing heavy bodies.
The modern balance now generally used consists of
a lever or beam suspended exactly in the middle, ha¬
ving scales or basons hung to each extremity. The lever
is called the jugum or beam ; and the two moieties
thereof on each side the axis, the brachia or arms.
The line on which the beam turns, or which divides
its brachia, is called the axis; and when considered
with regard to the length of the brachia, is esteemed
a point only, and called the centre of the balance ; the
handle whereby it is held, or by which the whole ap¬
paratus is suspended, is called trutina ; and the slender
part perpendicular to the beam, whereby either the
equilibrium or preponderancy of bodies is indicated, is
called the tongue of the balance. Thus in fig. 1. Plate
LXXXIV. a b is the beam, divided into two equal
brnchia or arms by the white spot in the centre, which
is the axis or centre of the balance, and c is the tongue.
Hie trutina, on which the axis is suspended, is not re¬
presented in this figure, in order to render the other
parts more conspicuous.
It follows, from what has been observed, therefore,
that
HALAXCK.
FINITE EXXX71:
I
B A L [ 343 ] B A L
Balance that in the Homan balance, the weight used for a cottn-
— v—terpoise is the same, but the point of application varies;
in the common balance the counterpoise is various, and
the point of application the same. The principle on
which each is founded, may be very easily understood
from the following observations, anil the general pro¬
perties of the lever. See Lever.
The beam AB (fig. 2.), is a lever of the first kind ;
but instead ot resting on a fulcrum, is suspended by
something fastened to its centre of motion: consequent¬
ly the mechanism of the balance depends on the same
theorems as the lever.
Hence as the quantity of matter in a known weight is
to its distance from the centre of motion, so is the di¬
stance of the unknown weight to its quantity of mat¬
ter. Hence the nature and use of the steel-yard is
easily known. Let AB (fig. 2.) represent an in¬
strument of this kind; a, the trutina, or handle on
which the beam turns ; k, a ring on which the balance
may be suspended on a nail or hook ; f, the hook on
which the body to be weighed is hung ; r, a collar
or guard by which the hook/is fastened to the beam ;
g, a moveable collar ; /?., a swivel; z, the counterpoise.
From what has been said it evidently follows, that if
the body to be weighed is fastened to the hook /, and
the whole suspended by the ring k, the division on which
the counterpoise is placed to maintain an equilibrium
in the balance, will show the weight of the body re¬
quired ; provided the weight of the counterpoise i be
known, and the large divisions, 1, 2, 3, &c. be equal
to the distance between the centre of the balance and
the screw which fastens the guard c to the shorter arm
of the balance. It will also be necessary that the steel¬
yard itself, with its whole apparatus, exclusive of the
counterpoise, be in equilibrio, when suspended on the
ring k. If the body to be weighed be heavier than the
divisions on the longer arm will indicate, the balance
is turned the lower side upwards, and suspended on the
other ring b; by which means the divisions become
shorter, because the distance between the trutina d, and
the screw on which the guard c moves, is less : the di¬
visions in the figure on this side extending to 17,
whereas they extend only to 6 on the other. It will
be unnecessary perhaps to observe, that the same pre¬
caution, with regard to the centre of gravity when the
balance is suspended, is also necessary when this side of
the balance is used, as we before mentioned with re¬
gard to the other.
We have already observed, that in the common
scales the two brachia er arms of the balance, cj\eg,
bg- 3* are equal to each other, and consequently equal
weights placed in the scales d, d, will be m equilibria^
when the balance is suspended on its centre e, as in the
figure, where the ring at the extremity of the trutina
is hung on the tapering rod a b, fixed in the foot or
basis c.
The Deceitful Balance, or that which cheats by the
inequality of its brachia, is founded on the same prin¬
ciple as the steel-yard. Let there he, for example, a
balance so constructed, that both the brachia with their
scales shall equiponderate, but that the length of the
one arm shall be to that of the other as 10 to 9. In
this case, a weight of nine pounds put into the longest
anu, will counterpoise one of ten pounds put into the
snorter one: but the cheat,is immediately discovered
by shifting the weight from one scale to the other ; in
which case, the balance will no longer remain in equi¬
libria.
Assay-BALANCE, a very nice balance used in docima-
stical operations, to determine exactly the weight of
minute bodies; see fig. 4. This balance should be
made of the best steel, and of the hardest kind; because
that metal is not so easily spoiled with rust as iron ;
and it is more apt than any other to take a perfect po¬
lish, which at the same time prevents the rust.
The structure of the assayer’s scale is little different
from that of common scales, otherwise than by its
nicety and smallness. The longer the beam of it is,
the more exact may the weight of a body be found ;
however, 10 or 12 inches are sufficient length. Let
the thickness of it be so little, that two drachms may
hardly be hung at either of its extremities without its
bending ; for the largest weight put upon it seldom ex¬
ceeds one drachm. The whole surface of this beam must
be altogether without ornaments, which only increase
the weight and gather dust, &c. The beam is suspended
in a fork, the two legs of which are steel springs joined
at top, but kept together below with a brass pliant
clasp, parallel, and two lines and a half distant from
each other. This clasp being taken off, and the legs
of the fork being stretched out, the axis of the beam
may be put into two holes made for that purpose at the
ends of the legs, or be taken away from them. Let a
very sharp needle be fixed in the head of the fork, stand¬
ing perpendicularly downwards, if the fork is suspended,
and so long, as that it may almost touch the top of the
tongue of the beam put into the fork when in equi¬
librio. This needle is the mark of the equilibrium ;
and that the artist may be able to observe this, the
legs of the fork must be broader in that place, and have
an opening two or three lines wide; this fork may
be adorned at pleasure, provided the motion of the ba¬
lance is not hindered by such ornaments : then take two
scales made of thin plate of silver, one inch and a half
in diameter, hanging on three small silk strings, almost
as long as the beam, tied together at top, with a silver
hook in form of an S, and hang them to the extremities
of the beam: a smaller silver dish or blued steel, some¬
what less than one inch in diameter, belongs to each
of these scales. You first put into these dishes, with a
pair of pincers, the bodies to be weighed, or with a
spoon or a small shovel, when they are pounded, and
then you put them into the scales ; therefore the small
dishes must be perfectly equal in weight. Welise them,
that bodies may be more conveniently put into and
taken out of the scales, and that these which are vastly
thin may not be bent or soiled, and thence rendered
false by wiping.
This balance is suspended on a moveable brass or
copper support, which consists of a pedestal, and of a
column set upon it about 20 inches high, at the top
of which comes out at right angles an arm one inch
long. At the extremity of this arm, put a small pul¬
ley three lines in diameter, another at the top of the
column, and a third near the bottom of it; all which
pulleys must turn very easily on their axes. At the di¬
stance of one inch and a half below the upper arm, let
another arm one inch and a half long come out of the
column at right angles, having a hole through it two
lines long, a quarter of a line broad, and placed per¬
pendicularly^
Balance.
 v——^
B A L [ 344 ] B A L
-Balance, pendlcularly below the pulley of the upper arm, to re-
1 ceive a small plate, one inch and a half long ; and of
such breadth and thickneas, as that it may freely move
up and down, and yet not have too much play within
the hole. This plate must also have a small hook at
each extremity.
And as such a balance will hardly stand still in the
open air, and becomes false when soiled with dust,
it must be put, together with its support, into a
small case as represented in fig. 4. having glasses, o,
«, a, at top, and all round it, that you may see what is
within.
Manner of using the Assay-Balance.—Pass a silk
string over the three pulleys of the support, and tie it
at its upper extremity to the small hook introduced
into the hole of the inferior arm $ then put the sup¬
port in the middle of the small case, and pass the other
extremity of the silk string below, through a hole bo¬
red in the middle of the lower part of the frame, con¬
taining the window in the fore-part of the case, and
fasten it to a small weight of a cubic form. Suspend
the fork of the balance on the inferior hook of the
plate. By this means if you move backwards and
forwards the weight fastened to the string, placed upon
the top of the drawer jutting out beyond the fore-part
of the case, the balance within is either lifted up or
let down. But you must put the bodies to be weigh¬
ed, and the weights themselves, into the small silver
dishes $ and these, when loaded, into the scales, through
the side-windows, which must be opened for that pur¬
pose. When any thing is to be added or taken out
of them, you do it with the small pincers; or, if it is
powder, with the small shovel or spoon : but you must
let the balance down every time any thing is to be ad¬
ded or taken away, that the scales may rest upon the
bottom of the case j and shut the windows before the
balance is lifted up again, especially if the air is not
perfectly calm.
Hydrostatic Balance, an instrument contrived to
determine accurately the specific gravity of both solid
and fluid bodies. It is constructed in various forms ;
but we shall content ourselves here with describing that
which appears of all others the most accurate.
VCG (fig. 5.) is the stand or pillar of this hydro¬
static balance, which is to be fixed in a table. From
the top A hangs, by two silk strings, the horizontal
bar BB, from which is suspended, by a ring i, the
fine beam of a balance b j which is prevented from de¬
scending too low on either side by the gently springing
piece t x y %, fixed on the support M. The harness is
annulated at 0, to show distinctly the perpendicular
position of the examen, by the small pointed index fixed
above it.
The strings by which the balance is suspended, pas¬
sing over two pulleys, one on each side the piece at
A, go down to the bottom on the other side, and are
hung over the hook atu,* which hook, by means of
a screw P, is moveable about one inch and a quar¬
ter, backward and forward, and therefore the balance
may be raised or depressed so much. But if a greater
elevation or depression be required, the sliding piece
o, winch carries the screw P, is readily moved to any
part of the square brass rod VK, and fixed by means
-of a screw.
The motion of the balance being thus adjusted,
the rest of the apparatus is as follow’s. HH is a small
board, fixed upon the piece I), under the scales d and
e, and is moveable up and down in a low slit in the
pillar above C, and fastened at any part by a screw be¬
hind. From the point in the middle of the bottom of
each scale hangs, by a fine hook, a brass wire a d
and a c. These pass through two holes m m in the
table. To the wire a d is suspended a curious cylindric
wire rs, perforated at each end for that purpose : this
wire r ^ is covered with paper, graduated by equal di¬
visions, and is about five inches long.
In the corner of the board at E, is fixed a brass
tube, on which a round wire h l is so adapted as to
move neither too tight nor too free, by its flat head I.
Upon the lower part of this moves another tube Q,
which has suflicient friction to make it remain in any
position required: to this is fixed an index T, mo¬
ving horizontally when the wire A / is turned about,
and therefore may be easily set to the graduated wire
r s. To the lower end of the wire r s hangs a weight
L $ and to that a wire p n, with a small brass ball g
about one-fourth of an inch diameter. On the other
side, to the wire a c, hangs a large glass bubble B, by
a horse hair.
Let us first suppose the weight L taken away, and
the wire p n suspended from S : and, on the other
side, let the bubble E. be taken away, and the weight
F, suspended at c, in its room. This weight F we
suppose to be sufficient to keep the several parts hang¬
ing to the other scale in equilibrium $ at the same time
that the middle point of the wire p « is at the surface of
the water in the vessel N. The wire p n is to be of
such a size, that the length of one inch shall weigh four
grains.
Now it is evident, since brass is eight times heavier
than water, that for every inch the wire sinks in the
water it will become half a grain lighter, and half a
grain heavier for every inch it rises out of the water:
consequently, by sinking two inches below the mid¬
dle point, or rising two inches above it, the wire
will become one grain lighter or heavier. Therefore,
if, when the middle point is at the surface of the wa¬
ter in equilibrium, the index T be set to the middle
point a of the graduated wire rs, and the distance on
each side a r and a s contains 100 equal parts : then, if
in weighing bodies the weight is required to the hun¬
dredth part of a grain, it may be easily had by proceed¬
ing in the following manner.
Let the body to be weighed be placed in the scale
d. Put the weight X in the scale e 5 and let this be
so determined, that one grain more shall be too much,
and one grain less too little. Then the balance be¬
ing moved gently up or down, by the screw P, till
the equilibrium be nicely shown at 0; if the index T
be at the middle point a of the wire r s, it shows
that the weights put into the scale e are just equal
to the weight of the body. By this method we find
the absolute weight of the body j the relative weight
is found by weighing it hydrostatically in water, as
follows.
Instead of putting the body into the scale e, as be¬
fore, let it hang with the weight F, at the hook c, by
a horse hair, as at R, supposing the vessel O of water
were away. The equilibrium being then made, the
index T standing between o and r, at the 36 divi-
Balance
II
Balayan.
B A L [
slon, shows the weight of the body put in to
I095<3^ grains. As it thus hangs, let it be immersed
_ in the water of the vessel O, and it will become much
"'lighter: the scale e will descend till the beam of the
balance rest on the support ‘Z. Then suppose 100
grains put into the scale d restore the equilibrium
precisely, so that the index T stand at the 36 divi¬
sion above a; it is evident that the weight of an
equal bulk of water would, in this case, be exactly 100
grains.
Balance of Poiver, a principle admitted in the mo¬
dern policy of Europe, the object of which is to prevent
any single state from acquiring such a preponderance
as to endanger the independence of the others. See
Balance ot Power in the Supplement.
Balance of Trade. What is commonly meant by
the balance ot trade, is the equal importing of foreign
commodities with the exporting of the native. A fa¬
vourable balance is when the exports exceed the im¬
ports ; because in this case the balance of the account
must be made up in bullion or money; and the nation
grows so much richer. This idea is, however, now re¬
garded as entirely fallacious by all sound political eco¬
nomists.
Balance of a Clock, or Watch, is that part which
regulates the beats. See CLOCK-Making.
BALANCE-Fish. See Sciualus, Ichthyology In¬
dex.
BALANCER, in the history of insects, a style, or
oblong body, ending in a protuberance or head, found
under each wing of the two-winged flies ; these, it is
supposed, serve to poise the body of the fly.
BALANCING, among seamen, the contracting a
sail into a narrower compass, in a storm, by retrench-
ing, or folding up a part of it at one corner: this me¬
thod is used in contradistinction to reefing, which is
common to all the principal sails ; whereas balancing is
peculiar to lew, such as the mizen of a ship, and the
main sail of those vessels wherein it is extended by a
boom. See Boom and Reef.—The balance of the
mizen is thus performed : the mizen yard is lowered a
little, then a small portion of the sail is rolled up at the
peek or upper corner, and fastened to the yard about
one fifth inward from the outer end or yard-arm to¬
ward the mast. See Mizen.—A boom main-sail is
balanced, after all its reefs are taken in, by rolling up
a similar portion ol the hindmost or aftmost lower cor¬
ner called the clue, and fastening it strongly to the
boom, having previously wrapped a piece of old canvas
round the part (which is done in both cases) to pre¬
vent the sail from being fretted by the cord which fas¬
tens it.
BALANUS, the trivial name of a species of lepas.
See Lepas, Conchology Index.
BALAUSTINES, in Botany. See Punica, Bo¬
tany Index.
BALAYAN, a province of the island of Manilla in
the East Indies, belonging to the Spaniards.—It lies
next to the city of Manilla, and extends along the
coast on the east side of the island, a little beyond the
bay of Batangas. There were formerly gold mines in
Jt, but they have been lotig since abandoned. It is in¬
habited by about 2500 tributary Indians, and abounds
in cotton, rice, and palm-trees. The province is well
vol. III. Part I. j.
345 ] B- A L
be cultivated ; and the Spaniards, generally speaking, have
country-houses in it.
BALBASTRQ, an episcopal town of Spain, in the
kingdom ol Arragon, and capital of a district of the
same name. E. Long. o. 20. N. Lat. 41. 50.
B ALBEC, a city of Asia, in Syria, anciently called
Heliopolis, and by the Arabians The wonder of Syria.
It is situated at the foot of Anti-Lebanon, precisely
on the last rising ground where the mountain termi¬
nates in the plain. As we arrive from the south we
discover the city only at the distance of a league and
a half, behind a hedge of trees, over the verdant tops
of which appears a white edging of domes and minarets.
After an hour’s journey we reach these trees, which are
very fine walnuts ; and soon after, crossing some ill cul¬
tivated gardens, by winding paths, arrive at the entrance
of the city. We there perceive a ruined wall, flanked
with square towers, which ascends the declivity to the
right, and traces the precincts of the ancient city. This
wall, which is only ten or twelve feet high, permits us
to have a view of those void spaces and heaps of ruins
which are the invariable appendage of every Turkish
city ; but what principally attracts our attention is a
large edifice on the left, which, by its lofty walls and
rich columns, manifestly appears to be one of those
temples which antiquity has left for our admiration.
Ihese ruins, which are some of the most beautiful and
best preserved of any in Asia, merit a particular descrip¬
tion.
rlo give a just idea of them, we must suppose our¬
selves descending from the interior of the town. Af¬
ter having crossed the rubbish and huts with which it
is filled, we arrive at a vacant place which appears to
have been a square ; there in front, towards the west,
we perceive a grand ruin, which consists of two pavi¬
lions ornamented with pilasters, joined at their bottom
angle by a wall 160 feet in length. This front com¬
mands the open country from a sort of terrace, on the
edge of which we distinguish with difficulty the bases
of twelve columns, which formerly extended from one
pavilion to the other, and formed a portico. The
principal gate is obstructed by heaps of stones ; but,
that obstacle surmounted, we enter an empty space,
which is a hexagonal court of 180 feet diameter. This
court is strewed with broken columns, mutilated capi¬
tals, and the remains of pilasters, entablatures, and cor-
Balayan
fi
Balbee.
nices ; around it is a row of ruined edifices, which dis¬
play all the ornaments of the richest architecture. At
the end of this court, opposite the west, is an outlet,
which formerly was a gate, through which we per¬
ceive a still more extensive range of ruins, whose mag¬
nificence strongly excites curiosity. To have a full
prospect of these, we must ascend a slope, up which
were the steps to this gate ; and then we arrive at the
entrance of a square court, much more spacious than
the former, being 350 feet wide and 336 in length.
The eye is first attracted by the end of this court,
where six enormous and majestic columns render the
scene astonishingly grand and picturesque. Another
object not less interesting is a second range of columns
to the left, which appear to have been part of the pe¬
ristyle of a temple; but before we pass thither, we
cannot refuse particular attention to the edifices which
enclose this court on each side. They form a sort of
X x gallery
B A L C 346 ] B A L
Balbec. gallery which contains various chambers, seven of
■“■"v——' which may be reckoned in each of the principal wings,
viz. two in a semicircle, and five in an oblong square.
The bottom of these apartments still retains pediments
of niches and tabernacles, the supporters of which are
destroyed. On the side of the court they are open,
and present only four and six columns totally destroy¬
ed. It is not easy to conceive the use of these apart¬
ments ; but this does not diminish our admiration at
the beauty of their pilasters and the richness of the frize
of the entablature. Neither is it possibly to avoid re¬
marking the singular effect which results from the mix¬
ture of the garlands, the large foliage of the capitals,
and the sculpture of wild plants with which they are
everywhere ornamented. In traversing the length of
the court, we find in the middle a little square espla¬
nade, where was a pavilion, of which nothing remains
but the foundation. At length we arrive at the foot
of the six columns ; and then first conceive all the
boldness of their elevation and the richness of their
workmanship. Their shafts are 21 feet eight inches in
circumference, and 58 high j so that the total height,
including the entablature, is from 71 to 72 feet. The
sight ol this superb ruin, thus solitary and unaccom¬
panied, at first strikes us with astonishment; but, on
a more attentive examination, we discover a series of
foundations, which mark an oblong square of 268 feet
in length and 146 wide, and which, it seems probable,
was the peristyle of a grand temple, the primary pur¬
pose of this whole structure. It presented to the great
court, that is to the east, a front of ten columns, with
19 on each side, which, with the other six, make in all
54. The ground on which it stood was an oblong
square, on a level with this court, but narrower than it,
so that there was only a terrace of 27 feet wide round the
colonnade j the esplanade this produces fronts the open
country towards the west, by a sloping wall of about 30
feet. This descent, as you approach the city, becomes
less steep, so that the foundation of the pavilion is on a
level with the termination of the hill j whence it is evi¬
dent that the whole ground of the courts has been ar¬
tificially raised. Such was the former state of this edi¬
fice 5 but the southern side of the grand temple was af¬
terwards blocked up to build a smaller one, the peri¬
style and walls of which are still remaining. This
temple, situated somewhat lower than the other, pre¬
sents a side of 13 columns by eight in front (in all
34), which are likewise of the Corinthian order j their
shafts are 15 feet eight inches in circumference, and 44
in height. The building they surround is an oblong
square, the front of which, turned towards the east,
is out of the line of the left wing of the great court.
J o reach it you must cross trunks of columns, heaps
of stone, and a ruinous wall by which it is now hid.
After surmounting these obstacles you arrive at the
gate, where you may survey the enclosure which was
once the habitation of a god j but instead of the aw¬
ful scene of a prostrate people and sacrifices offered
by a multitude of priests, the sky is seen through
the open roof, which lets in light to show a chaos
of rums covered witli dust and weeds. The walls
formerly enriched with all the ornaments of the Co¬
rinthian order, now present nothing but pediments of
niches and tabernacles, of which almost all the sup¬
porters are fallen to the ground. Between these niches
3
is a range of fluted pilasters, whose capitals support a Balbec
broken entablature 5 but what remains of it displays a ■ i <m.
rich frize of foliage resting on the heads of satyrs,
horses, bulls, &c. Over this entablature was the an¬
cient roof, which was 57 feet wide and 110 in length.
The walls which supported it are 31 feet high, and
without a window. It is impossible to form any idea
of the ornaments of this roof, except from the frag¬
ments lying on the ground •, but it could not have been
richer than the gallery of the peristyle: the principal
remaining parts contain tablets in the form of lozen¬
ges, on which are represented Jupiter seated on his
eagle j Leda caressed by the swan j Diana with her
bow and crescent; and several busts which seem to be
figures of emperors and empresses. It would lead us
too far to enter more minutely into the description of
this astonishing edifice. The lovers of the arts will
find it described with the greatest truth and accuracy
in a work published at London in 1757, under the title
of Rtiins of Balbec. This work, compiled by Mr Ro¬
bert Wood, the world owes to the attention and libe¬
rality of Mr Dawkins, who in 1751 visited Balbec
and Palmyra. But several changes, however, have
taken place since their journey ; for example, they
found nine large columns standing, and in 1784 Mr
Volney found but six. They reckoned 29 at the
lesser temple, but there now remain but 20; the others
having been overthrown by the earthquake of 1759. It
has likewise so shaken the walls of the lesser temple,
that the stone of the soffit, or cross stone at the top of
the gate, has slid between the two adjoining ones, and
descended eight inches ; by which means the body of
the bird sculptured on that stone is suspended, detached
from its wings and the two garlands which hung from
its beak, and terminated in two genii. Nature alone
has not effected this devastation ; the Turks have had
their share in the destruction of the columns. Their
motive is to procure the iron cramps, which serve to
join the several blocks of which each column is com¬
posed. These cramps answer so well the end intend¬
ed, that several of the columns are not even disjointed
by their fall j one, among others, as Mr Wood ob¬
serves, has penetrated a stone of the temple wall with¬
out giving way. Nothing can surpass the workmanship
of these columns j they are joined without any cement,
yet there is not room for the blade of a knife between
their interstices. After so many ages, they in gene¬
ral still retain their original whiteness. But what is
still more astonishing, is the enormous stones which
compose the sloping wall. To the west the second
layer is formed of stones which are from 28 to 35 feet
long, by about nine in height. Over this layer, at
the north-west angle, there are three stones which
alone occupy a space of 173^ feet; viz. the first 58
feet seven inches, the second 58 feet 11, and the third
exactly 58 feet; and each of these is 12 feet thick.
These stones are ol a white granite, with large shining
flakes like gypsum ; there is a quarry of this kind of
stone under the whole city and in the adjacent moun¬
tain, which is open in several places, and among others
on the right, as we approach the city. There is still
lying there a stone, hewn on three sides, which is 69
feet two inches long, 12 feet 10 inches broad, and
13 feet three in thickness. By what means could the
ancients move these enormous masses ? This is doubt-
s less
B A L
Balbec. ^ess a problem in mechanics curious to resolve,
y—' inhabitants of Balbec have a very commodious manner
of explaining it, by supposing these edifices to have
been constructed by Djenoun, or genii, who obeyed
the orders of King Solomon $ adding, that the motive
of such immense works was to conceal in subterraneous
caverns vast treasures, which still remain there. To
discover these, many have descended into the vaults
<which range under the whole edifice: but the inutility
of their researches, added to the oppressions and ex¬
tortions of the governors, who have made their sup¬
posed discoveries a pretext, have at length disheartened
them ; but they imagine the Europeans would be more
successful, nor would it be possible to persuade them
but that we are possessed of the magic art of destroy¬
ing talismans. It is in vain to oppose reason to igno¬
rance and prejudice: and it would be no less ridicu¬
lous to attempt to prove to them that Solomon never
was acquainted with the Corinthian order, which was
only in use under the Roman emperors. But their
tradition on the subject of this prince may suggest three
important observations. First, That all tradition re¬
lative to high antiquity is as false among the Orientals
as the Europeans. With them, as with us, facts which
happened 100 years before, when not preserved in
Writing, are altered, mutilated, or forgotten. To ex¬
pect information from them with respect to events in
the time of David bt1 Alexander, would be as absurd
as to make inquiries of the Fleming peasants concern¬
ing Clovis or Charlemagne. Secondly, That through¬
out Syria, the Mahometans, as well as the Jews and
Christians, attribute every great work to Solomon :
hot that the memory of him still remains by tradition
in those countries, but from certain passages in the Old
Testament; which, with the gospel, is the source of
almost all their tradition, as these are the only histori¬
cal books read or known j but as their expounders are
very ignorant, their applications of what they are told
are generally very remote from truth. By an error of
this kind they pretend Balbec is the house of the folrest
of Lebanon built by Solomon : nor do they approach
nearer probability, when they attribute to that king the
well ol Tyre and the buildings of Palmyra. Thirdly,
That the belief in hidden treasures has been confirmed
by discoveries which have been really made from time
to time. It is not many years since a small coffer was
found at Hebron full of gold and silver medals, with
an ancient Arabic book on medicine. In the country
of the Druses an individual discovered likewise, some
time since, a jar with gold Coin in the form of a cre¬
scent j but as the chiefs and governors claim a right to
these discoveries, and ruin those who have made them,
under pretext of obliging them to make restoration,
those who find any thing endeavour carefully to con¬
ceal it $ they secretly melt the antique coins, nay fre¬
quently bury them again in the same place where they
found them, from the same fears which caused their first
Concealment, and which prove the same tyranny for¬
merly existed in these countries.
When we consider the extraordinary magnificence
of the temple of Balbec, we cannot but be astonished
at the silence of the Greek and Roman authors. Mr
Wood, who has carefully examined all the ancient wri¬
ters, has found no mention of it except in a fragment
of John ol Antioch, who attributes the construction
E A L
of this edifice to Antoninus Pius. The inscriptions Balbec
which remain corroborate this opinion, which perfect- jj
ly accounts for the constant use of the Corinthian or- balboa.
der, since that order was not in general use before the v  1
third age of Rome $ but we ought by no means to al¬
lege as an additional proof the bird sculptured over
the gate; for if his crooked beak, large claws, and
the caduceus he bears, give him the appearance of an
eagle, the tuft of feathers on his head, like that of
certain pigeons, proves that he is not the Roman eagle 5
besides that the same bird is found in the temple of
Palmyra $ and is therefore evidently an Oriental eagle,
consecrated to the sun, who was the divinity adored in
both these temples. His worship existed at Balbec in
the most remote antiquity. His statue, which resem¬
bled that of Osiris, had been transported thither from
the Heliopolis of Egypt, and the ceremonies with
which he was worshipped there have been described
by Macrobius, iti his curious work entitled Saturnalia.
Mr Wood supposes with reason, that the name of Bal¬
bec, which in %riac signifies City of Bal, or of the
sun, originated in this worship. The Greeks, by nam¬
ing it Heliopolis, have in this instance only given a li¬
teral translation of the oriental word : a practice to
which they have not always adhered. We are igno¬
rant of the state of this city in remote antiquity j but
it is to be presumed, that its situation bn the road
from Tyre to Palmyra, gave it some part of the com¬
merce of these opulent capitals. Under the Romans,
in the time of Augustus, it is mentioned as a gairison
town : and there is still remaining, on the, wall of the
southern gate, on the right, as we enter, an inscription
which proves the truth of this, the words KENTUBIA
PRIMA, in Greek characters, being very legible. One
hundred and forty years after, Antoninus built there
the present temple, instead of the ancient one, which
was doubtless falling into ruins : but Christianity hav¬
ing gained the ascendency under Constantine, the mo¬
dern temple was neglected, and afterwards converted
into a church 5 a wall of which is now remaining, that
hid the sanctuary of the idols. It continued thus un¬
til the invasion of the Arabs, when it is probable they
envied the Christians so beautiful a building. The
church being less frequented fell to decay j wars suc-
fceeded ; and it was converted into a place of defence 5
battlements were built on the wall which surrounded
it, on the pavilions and at the angles which still sub¬
sist j and Irom that time, the temple, exposed to the
fate of war, fell rapidly to ruin. The state of the
city is not less deplorable. The wretched government
of the emirs of the house of Harfoushe had already
greatly impaired it, and the earthquake of 1759 com-*
pleted its destruction. The wars of the Emir Yousef
and Djezzar have rendered it still more deserted and
ruinous. Of 5000 inhabitants, at which number they
were estimated in 1^51, not 1200 are now remaining 5
and all these poor, without industry or commerce, and
cultivating nothing but a little cotton, some maize, and
Water-melons.
BALBINUS, Decimus Coelius, the Roman em¬
peror, being chosen by the senate in 237, was massacred
by the soldiers, who had a dislike to such emperors as
were elected only by the senators. This prince was elo¬
quent, and wrote pretty good verses.
BALBOA, Vasco Nugnes de, a Castilian ; a
X x 2 celebrated
f 347 1
The
B A L
Balboa
celebrated navigator, and one of the first discoverers of
li South America. He was beheaded by the Spanish go-
T.aldness.^ vernor 0f Mary, through jealousy of his growing re¬
putation, in 1517, aged 42.
BALBUS, Lucius Cornelius Theophanes, was
born at Cadiz, and distinguished himself by his valour
in the war carried on by the Romans in Spain against
Sertorius and the Lusitanians, on which account Pom-
pey gave him the privileges of a Roman citizen. He
was consul in the 714th year of Rome, and was the first
foreigner on whom that dignity was conferred. He was
the friend of Pompey, Caesar, Crassus, and Cicero.—
There were many other illustrious Romans of the name
of Balbi/s.
BALCONY, in Architecture, a projecture in the
front of a house, or other building, supported by pillars
or consoles, and encompassed with a balustrade.
BALDACHIN, or Baldaquin, in Architecture,
a building in form of a canopy, supported by pillars,
and frequently used as a covering to insulated altars.
Some also use the term baldachin for the shell over a
door.
BALDINUCCI, Philip, of Florence; a connois¬
seur in the polite arts, and the continuator of Vasari’s
Lives of the Painters. He died in 1696, aged 72.
BALDIVIA, or Valdivia, a sea-port town of
Chili, in America, belonging to the Spaniards. It is
situated between the rivers Callaculles and Portero,
where they fall into the South sea. W. Long. 74. 2.
S. Lat. 39. 55. It was built in 1551 by the Spanish
general Baldivia, from whom it takes its name. We
may judge of its importance from the sum granted
annually by the king for maintaining the garrisons and
keeping the fortifications in repair, being no less than
300,000 pieces of eight. It is defended by four strong
castles, mounting 100 pieces of fine brass cannon. Not¬
withstanding which, however, as the garrison is com¬
posed mostly of transported criminals, on whom no de¬
pendence can be placed, and generally ill supplied with
ammunition, &c. it could make but a poor defence.
In 1643 ^ was easily taken by the Dutch, who would
probably have maintained their conquest against all the
power of the Spanish viceroy, had they not been obli¬
ged to relinquish it through sickness and famine. The
inhabitants of Baldivia amount to about 2000. The
trade is less considerable than formerly, because the gold
mines in the neighbourhood are shut up. It formerly
carried on a considerable trade with Lima, in corn,
hides, salt provisions, &c. ; but this must now have
ceased, since Baldivia, with all the other parts of Chili,
has fallen into the hands of the independent party.
BALDINJER, Ernest G. a German physician,
bee Supplement.
BALDNESS, a defect of hair, chiefly on the sinci¬
put. It differs from alopecia, area, ophiasis, and tinea,
as these all arise from some vice in the nutritious hu¬
mour ; baldness, from the defect of it. When the eye¬
lids shed their hair, it is called a. pttlosis. Among the
causes of baldness, immoderate venery is reputed one
m the chief; old age usually brings it on of course.
Some will have the proximate cause of baldness to be
the dryness of the brain, and its shrinking from the
,cranium ; it having been observed, that in bald per¬
sons there is always a vacuity or empty space between
the skull and the brain.—Cc/tw, bald-pate, was a fre-
t 348 ]
B A L
quent term of reproach among the Romans ; among Baldnesi
whom this defect was in great discredit. Hence di- ||
vers arts to conceal it, as false hair, a galericulus con-
trived on purpose. The later Romans, however, seem
to have been reconciled to baldness ; for we find a-
mong them a kind of officers, or servants, called gla~
bratores or glabrarii, whose business was to take off the
hair from all parts, even from the head. In an ancient
inscription, there is mention of one Diophantus, TI,
CiESARTS, oitNatoil glabr, that is, Ornator Gla-
brarius.
BALDOC, a town of Hertfordshire, in England,
chiefly noted for its trading in malt. Population 1438.
W. Long. o. 10. N. Lat. 51. 55.
BALDOCK, Ralph de, bishop of London in the
reigns of Edward I. and II. was educated at Merton-
college, in Oxford ; became dean of St Paul’s ; was
afterwards promoted to the see of London ; and at last
was made lord high chancellor of England. He had
a very amiable character both for morals and learning;
and wrote Historia Anglica, or a History of the British
Affairs down to his own time; and, A Collection of
the Statutes and Constitutions of the church of St
Paul. Bishop Baldock died at Stepney, July 24. 1313.
BALDWIN, archbishop of Canterbury, was born
of obscure parents at Exeter, where, in the early part
of his life, he taught a grammar school; after which
he took orders, and was made archdeacon of Exeter;
but he resigned that dignity, and became a Cistertian
monk in the monastery of Ford in Devonshire, of which
in a few years he was made abbot. In the year II80,
he was consecrated bishop of Worcester. In 1184, he
was promoted to the see of Canterbury by Pope Lu¬
cius III. and by his successor Urban III. was appoint¬
ed legate for that diocese. He laid the foundation of
a church and monastery in honour of Thomas Becket,
at Hackington, near Canterbury, for secular priests ;
but, being opposed by the monks of Canterbury and the
pope, was obliged to desist. In 1190 he crowned
King Richard I. at Westminster; and soon after fol¬
lowed that prince to the Holy Land, where he died at
the siege of Ptolemais. Giraldus Cambrensis, who ac¬
companied him in this expedition, says, he was of a
mild disposition, and of great abstinence. He wrote
various tracts on religious subjects, which were collect¬
ed and published by Bertrand Tissier in 1662.
BALE, John, bishop of Ossory in Ireland, was
born at Cove, near Dunwich in Suffolk, in the year
I495* At 12 years of age he was entered in the mo¬
nastery of Carmelites at Norwich, and was thence sent
to Jesus college in Oxford. He was educated a Ro¬
man Catholic, but was converted to the Protestant re¬
ligion by Thomas Lord Wentworth. On the death of
Lord Cromwell, favourite of Henry VIII. who pre¬
lected him from the persecutions of the Romish cler¬
gy, he was obliged to fly into the Low Countries^
where he continued eight years. Soon after the ac¬
cession of Edward VI. he was recalled; and being first
presented to the living of Bishop’s Stocke in Hamp¬
shire, in 1552, he was nominated to the see of Ossory.
During his residence in Ireland he was remarkably as¬
siduous in propagating the Protestant doctrines ; but to
very little purpose, and frequently at the hazard of his
i.fo Once, in particular, they murdered five of his
domestics.
who were making hay in a meadow near
bis
B A L
Ba;e his house j ami would probably have done the same by
y him, if the sovereign of Kilkenny had not come to his
Baleares. assistance with 100 horse and 300 foot. On the acces-
T sion of Queen Mary, the tide of opposition became so
powerful, that, to avoid assassination, he embarked for
Holland, but was very unfortunate in his escape. First
he was taken by a Dutch man of war, and robbed by
the captain of all his effects. Then, being forced by
stress of weather into St Ive’s in Cornwall, he was con¬
fined on suspicion of treason. Being, however, relea¬
sed after a few days confinement, the ship anchored in
Dover road, where he was again seized on a false ac¬
cusation. After his arrival in Holland, he was kept
prisoner for three weeks, and at length obtained his
liberty on paying 30I. From Holland he travelled to
Basil in Switzerland, where he continued till Queen
Elizabeth ascended the throne. After his return to
England he was in 1560 made prebendary of Canter¬
bury, probably not choosing to return to his former
flock of wolves. He died in November 1563, at Can¬
terbury, in the 68th year of his age. He was so se¬
vere a writer against the church of Rome, that his
books are particularly prohibited in the expurgatory
index published at Madrid, in folio, in the year 1667.
He is the earliest dramatic writer in the English lan¬
guage, or at least author of the first pieces of that kind
that we find in print. Of his writings in that way no
fewer than 21 have been enumerated : only three of
them, however, have been seen in print, viz. 1. God’s
Promises, an interlude ; 2. St John Baptist, an inter¬
lude ; 3. Concerning the Laws of Nature corrupted :
the first of which has been reprinted by Dodsley, in the
first volume of his collection of old plays *, and the only
copy extant of the last is preserved in St Sepulchre’s
library in Dublin. As to the rest, they are mentioned
by himself as his own, in his account of the writers of
Britain before mentioned. He also translated the tra¬
gedies of Pammachius. His other works are very nu¬
merous j but the chief is his catalogue of British Au¬
thors^ a book of some merit, as it contains some in¬
formation which is not elsewhere to be found ; but he
has destroyed his credit by his intemperate Billings¬
gate abuse of all those who diftered from him in reli¬
gion. I he authentic part of his work is transcribed
from Leland. The title of it is, Illustrium Majoris
Britannia; scriptorum catahgus, a Japheta sanctissimi
ikoa jiho ad an. Dom. 1557.
Bale, in commerce. Any goods packed up in
cloth, and corded round very tight, in order to keep
them from breaking, or preserve them from the wea¬
ther, is called a bale.—A bale of cotton yarn is from
300 to 400 weight j of raw silk, is from 100 to 400 ;
of lockram or dowlas, either three, three and a half, or
four pieces.
Bale Goads, among the English merchants, are all
such as are imported or exported in bales ; but the
.trench give that name to certain hardwares and
other sorts of merchandise which come to Paris, and
are commonly made by bad workmen of difi'erent ma¬
terials.
BALEARES INSULAS, or the Balearic Islands.
-t he appellation is commonly derived from BaXXuv, be¬
muse the inhabitants were excellent slingers. But Bo-
chart makes the name of Punic or Phoenician original,
as were the people: Baal-jare, a master, or skilful at
B A L
throwing; the Phoenicians and Hebrews being dexte- noTp--..,
rous at the use of the sling. The Greeks called these [j
islands Gymnesue (Strabo) ; because in summer the Balen.
inhabitants went naked (Diodorus, Livy), or rather ' < f
because only armed with a sling in war (Hesyclmis).
Jhey are two in number, the Greater and the Less,
or Major and Minor; and hence the modern names
Majorca and Minorca. The Major is distant from the
Minor 30 miles to the west, in length 40 miles, and in
circuit 150 (Pliny). They were subdued by Quintus
Metellus, thence surnamed .Ba/ewfcM,?, in the year 120
B. C. The Baleares, together with the adjacent
islands, were a part of the Provincia Citerior or Tar-
raconensis, and of the resort of the Conventus Cartha-
giniensis or New Carthage. These islands are called
Choearades by Apollonius, and Choeradades by Strabo,
i. e. “ rocky.” See Majorca and Minorca.
BALEARIC islands. See the preceding arti¬
cle.
BALECHOU, John Joseph, a very celebrated and
well known French engraver, flourished about 1750.
He died, according to Basan, some few years since, at
Avignon. This extraordinary artist worked entirely
with the graver; and he was perfectly master of that
instrument. The clearness of his strokes, and the depth
of colour which he produced, are far beyond any pro¬
duction prior to his own. Hie two large plates which
he did from Vernet, one representing a storm, the other
a calm, must ever be considered as very astonishing ex¬
ertions of the artist. They are too well known, and too
much admired, to need any further eulogium ; and were
never equalled until they were perhaps surpassed by our
countryman Woollet.
BALEN, Hendrick Van, history and portrait
painter, was born at Antwerp in 1560, and was a
disciple of Adam Van Oort; but he quitted that mas¬
ter to acquire a better taste of design and composition,
by pursuing his studies at Rome, where he resided for
a considerable time. He copied the antiques ; he at¬
tended to the works of the most memorable modern
artists ; and at his return to his own country, the visi¬
ble improvement of his taste recommended him to the
favour and esteem of the ablest judges of the art. He
distinguished himself by a good manner of designing,
and his works are admitted into the cabinets of the
curious among those of the principal painters. He
particularly excelled in the naked, and gave to his
figures so much truth, roundness, and correctness of
outline, that few of his eotemporaries could enter into
competition with him. Several fine portraits of his
hand are at the Plague; among which there is one
adorned with allegorical figures of Wisdom and Justice,
which extorts commendation from all who attentively
consider it. He died in 1632. All the historical sub¬
jects painted by Van Balen have abundant merit. His
designs of the Deluge, of Moses striking the Rock,
and the drowning of Pharaoh, are grand and noble
compositions. Houbraken observes, that Van Balen .
with great judgment, hath introduced the Israelites in
a clear light in the back-ground, but the Egyptians in
a strong shadow in the fore-ground, which had a very
fine effect ; the figures being well designed, the atti¬
tudes and draperies well chosen, and the number of the
figures being very considerable. Of this painter’s hand ■
also, the Judgment of Paris is accounted a masterly
performance;
C 349 3
£ A L [ 350 ] B A L
lialen, Jierfofmatice j in which the figure of Venus is so ele-
Bales* gantly designed, so full of life, and so round, that it
.seems to stand forth from the surface. The landscapes
and back grounds of the pictures composed by Van
Balen were generally painted by the Velvet Breughel.
Balen, Jo/m Van, painter of history, landscapesj
and boys, was born at Antwerp in 1611 j and derived
his knowledge of the art, and his fine taste of draw¬
ing and design, from his father Hendrick Van Balen j
but as soon as he had made a competent progress, he
travelled to Rome, and lived for several years in that
and other cities of Italy* There he acquired a good
gusto of design, though he Was sometimes incorrect 5
and his particular merit was shown in his naked figures
of boys, cupids, nymphs bathing or hunting, of which
subjects he painted a considerable number j and he pro*
cured both praise and riches by his landscapes and his¬
tories. His pictures were well handled, his trees touch*
ed with spirit, and his herbage and verdure looked na¬
tural and lively. The carnations of his figures were
clear and fresh 5 his colouring in general was transpa¬
rent ; and the airs of his heads were in the manner of
Albano.
BALES, Peter, a famous master in the art of pen¬
manship, or fair writing $ and one of the first inventors
of short-hand writing. He was born in 1547, and is
styled by Anthony Wood “a most dexterous person in
his profession, to the great wonder of scholars and
others who adds, that u he spent several years in
sciences among Oxonians, particularly as it seems in
Gloucester-hall: but that study, which he used for a di¬
version only, proved at length an employment of pro¬
fit.” He is recorded for his skill in micrography, or mi¬
niature-writing, in Hollingshed’s Chronicle, anno 1575;
and Mr Evelyn also has celebrated his wonderful skill
in this delicate operation of the hand. “ Hadrian Ju¬
nius, speaking as a miracle of somebody, who wrote the
Apostles Creed* and the beginning of St John’s Gos¬
pel, within the compass of ft farthing : what would he
have said,” says Mr Evelyn, “ of our famous Peter
Bales j who, in the year 1575, wrote the Lord’s Pray¬
er, the Creed, Decalogue, with two short prayers in
Latin, his own name, motto, day of the month, year of
the Lord, and reign of the Queen, to whom he pre¬
sented it at Hampton Court, all of it written within
the circle of a single penny, inchaced in a ring and
borders of gold $ and covered with a crystal so accu¬
rately wrought, as to be very plainly legible, to the
great admiration of her Majesty, the whole Privy-CoUn-
cii, and several ambassadors then at Court ?” He was
farther very dexterous in imitating hand-writing, and
about 1586, was employed by Secretary Walsingham
in certain political manoeuvres. We find him at the
head of a school, near the Old Bailey, London, in
*59° 5 *n which year he published his “ WTiting
Schoolmaster, in three parts : the first teaching swift
writing; the second, true writing j the third, fair
writing.” In 1595, he had a great trial of skill in the
Blackfriars with one Daniel Johnson, for a golden pen
oi 20I. value, and won it j and a contemporary author
farther relates, that he had also the arms of Calligra¬
phy given him, which are Azure, a Pen, Or, as a prize,
at a trial of skill in this art among the best penmen in
London. In 1597, he republished his “ Writing
bchoolmaster j” which was in such high reputation,
that no less than eighteen copies of commendatory *
verses composed by learned and ingenious men of that 11 !
time, were printed before it. Wood says, that he was Baler,
engaged in Essex’s treasons in 1600 $ but Wood was Y"*'*
mistaken : he was only engaged, and very innocently
so, in serving the treacherous purposes of one of that
earl’s mercenary dependants. We know little more
of this curious person, but that he seems to have died
about the year 1610.
BALESTRA, Antonio, an excellent historical
painter, was born at Verona in 1666. At the age of
21 he went to Venice, where he entered himself in the
school of Antonio Bellucci, and continued for three
years under his direction j but from thence he visited
Bologna and Rome, and at the latter became the dis¬
ciple of Carlo Maratti. Under the tuition of so emi*
nent a genius, he made a very great proficiency, and
exerted himself for some hours of each day in design¬
ing after the antiques, after Raphael, Correggio, Han¬
nibal Carracci, and other admired painters ; by which
conduct he so effectually confirmed his taste and free¬
dom of hand, that he obtained the prize of merit in
the Academy of St Luke, in the year 1694, when he
tvas only 28 years of age. From that time his reputa¬
tion was established, and he received sufficient en*
coUragement j being engaged to work for most of the
churches, and in the palaces of the nobility j and his
paintings were admired in every part of Europe. His
style is sweet and agreeable, not unlike that of Marat*
ti j and the judicious observe in the works of Balestra,
a certain mixture of the several manners of Raphael,
Correggio, and Carracci. He died in 1740. In the
church of Santa Maria Mater Domini at Venice, there
is one of the rhost capital performances of Balestra, re¬
presenting the nativity of our Saviour. It is designed
in a grand style, the composition is excellent, and has
a great deal of grace. The heads are peculiarly fine }
and the whole has a noble effect, with remarkable har-
niony. In a chapel belonging to the church of S.
Geminiano, in the same city, there is a dead Christ in
the arms of the Virgin, painted by this master in a
grand taste ; and although the composition consists but
of a few figures, they are finely designed 5 and in every
part of it there is sufficient merit to claim and justify
applause.
BALEY, Walter, the son of Henry Baley of
Warnwell in Dorsetshire, was born at Potsham in the
same county, and educated at Westminster school. From
thence he was sent to Oxford ; and, after two years pro*
bation, was admitted perpetual fellow of New College
in the year 1550. Having taken his degrees in arts,
he practised physic, and in 1558 was proctor of the
university. About this time he obtained a prebend
of Wells, which he resigned in 1579. In the year
1561 he Was appointed queen’s professor of physic, in
1563 proceeded doctor in that faculty, and afterwards
became one of her majesty’s physicians in ordinary.
He was thought skilful in his profession, and had con¬
siderable practice. He died in 1592, aged 63 j and
was buried in the inner chapel of New College. His
works are, 1. A discourse of three kinds of paper in com¬
mon use, 1588, 8vo. 2. JArief treatise oj the presei'va-
tion of the eye sight; first printed in the reign of Eli¬
zabeth, in i2mo; afterwards at Oxford in 1616 and
1654, ^V0, 3* Directions for health natural and ar¬
tificial }
B A L [ 35i 1 B A L
jaiey tificial; with medicines for all diseases of the eyes, 1626,
|) 410. 4. Explicatio Galeni de potu convalescentium et
Balk, senum, &c. manuscript, formerly in Lord Aylesbury’s
-v 1 library.
BALI, an island of Asia, in the East Indies, form¬
ing the north side of the straits of Java, through which
the East India ships sometimes return from China to
Europe : but the passage is commonly difficult on ac¬
count of contrary winds. The island is extremely po¬
pulous, and abounds in rice and other productions pecu¬
liar to that climate. The inhabitants are Pagans, and
very warlike. E. Long. 115. 30. S. Lat. 9. o.
BALIOL, or Balliol, Sir John de, founder of
Baliol-college in Oxford, was the son of Hugh Baliol,
of Bernard’s castle, in the diocese of Durham 5 and was
a person very eminent for his power and riches. During
the contests and wars between King Henry III. and
his barons, he firmly adhered to the king. In 1263,
he began the foundation and endowment of Baliol col¬
lege, which was afterwards perfected by his widow.
He died in the year 1269.
Baliol, Balliol, or Boilliol, John, the com¬
petitor with Robert Bruce for the crown of Scotland,
was the great grandson of David earl of Huntington,
third son of King David I. See Scotland.
BALISORE, a sea port town of Asia, in the East
Indies, to the north-west of the bay of Bengal. It is
about four miles from the sea by land, but 20 by the
river; seated in a very fruitful soil, producing rice,
wheat, aromatic seeds, tobacco, &c. The inhabitants
make several sorts of stuffs of cotton, silk, and a kind
of grass. The place was given up to the English by the
Nagpore rajah at the peace in 1803. E. Long. 86. 50.
N. Lat. 21. 30.
BALISTES. See Ichthyology Index.
BAL1V0 amovendo, in Law, was a writ for re¬
moving a bailiff from his office, for want of having suf¬
ficient land in his bailiwick to answer the king and his
people, according to the statute of Westminster. 2 reg.
Orig. 78.
BALK, among builders, is sometimes used for the
summer beam of a house ; sometimes for the poles and
rafters, which support the roofs of barns, &c. $ and
sometimes for the beams used in making sea-holds.
Balk, or Balkh, a province of Great Bukharia in
Asia, about 360 miles long and 250 broad, situated
to the south of the province of Samarkand, and to the
east of Bukharia Proper. It is the least of the three
provinces that make up what is called Great Bukharia ;
but being extremely fertile and well cultivated, the
prince draws a great revenue from it. The country
particularly abounds with silk, of which the inhabitants
make pretty manufactures. The Uzbecks subject to
the khan ol Balkh are the most civilized of all the Tar¬
tars inhabiting Great Bukharia, owing probably to
their commerce with the Persians: they are likewise
more industrious, and more honest, than the rest y but
in other respects have the same customs with the rest
of the Tartars. The province is subdivided into seve¬
ral countries y the most remarkable of which are Khot-
lan or Katlan, Tokharestan, and Badagshan. It was
formerly subject to Persia, but is now a dependency on
the kingdom of Cabul.
. ®ALK, the capital of the above-mentioned province,
situated on the frontiers of Persia, in E. Long. 65. 20.
N. Lat. 36. 45. It is probably the ancient Bactra, ca- Balk
pital of the kingdom of Bactria j and is said by the ||
Persians to have been founded by Kay-umaraz the Ball,
first king of Persia, because he met his brother upon '“■""V"
the spot where it stood, after he had been lost for a
long time ; balkhiden, or halghiden, in the Persic lan-
guage, signifying to receive and embrace a friend.
The first kings of Persia, who resided in the province
of Media or Aderbijan, considered this city as one of
their principal frontiers on the side of Scythia. In
the 27th year of the Hegira, of Christ 647, Balk was
reduced by the Arabs, under the command of Abdal¬
lah Ebn A mer. It continued subject to Arab princes
till the year of the Hegira 432, of Christ 1041 ; when
it was reduced by Togrol Beg, the Tangrolipix of the
Greeks, and prince of the Seljukian dynasty. It was
taken by Jenghiz Khan, A. D. 1221, who with his
usual and unparalleled cruelty caused all the inhabi¬
tants to be brought without the walls, and massacred
without mercy. In 1369, Sultan Hosein, the last of
the race of Jenghiz Khan, was driven from Balk by
TLamerlane, whose successors were driven out by the
Uzbecks in the 15th century. It was afterwards re¬
deemed by Shah Ismael Sufi $ but finally wrested out
of his hands by tbe Uzbeck Tartars, between whom
and the Persians it is the occasion of almost continual
wars. It was not long since the residence of a khan
of Tartars. It is the most considerable city possessed
in these parts by the Mahometan Tartars, is large,
well built, and populous, the houses consisting for the
most part of stone or brick. The fortifications consist-
of bulwarks of earth, fenced without with a strong
wall, high enough to cover the soldiers employed in
defence of those fortifications. As this place is the
resort of all the business transacted between the Indies
and Great Bukharia, trade flourishes extremely at
Balk y especially as it has a fine river passing through
its suburbs, which is of vast service to the town. This
river falls into the Amu, in N. Lat. 38. 30. upon the
confines of Great Bukharia and Kowarazm. The
khan’s palace, or castle, is a large edifice built after
the oriental manner; and consists almost entirely of
marble, of which there are fine quarries in the neigh¬
bourhood. The khan of Balk was obliged in 1739 to*
submit to the Persians under Khouli Kan; but since
that time the country has been separated from Persia,,
and is now subject to the kingdom of Cabul..
BALKERS, in the fishery, persons placed on rocks,
and eminences at sea to spy the herring droves, and give
notice to the fishermen, by waving boughs, what way
they go, and where they may be found.
BALL, in a general sense, a spherical and roundi
body, whether naturally so, or formed into that figure
by art.
Ball, in the military art, comprehends all sorts of
bullets for fire-arms, from the cannon to the pistol. Can¬
non-balls are of iron; musket-balls, pistol-balls, &c..
are of lead.. The experiment has been tried of iron
balls for pistols and fusees ; but they are justly rejected,
not only on account of their lightness, which prevents
them from flying straight, but because they, are apt to,
furrow the barrel of the pistol, &c.
Ball of a Pendtdum, the weight at the bottom. In,
shorter pendulums this is called the bob.
Ball,, in Pyrotechnics,, is also a composition of va¬
rious
B A L [ 352 ] B A L
rlous combustible ingredients, serving to burn, smoke,
u.—^ give light. &c. In this sense we read of fire-balls,
light-balls, smoke-balls, stink-balls, sky-balls, water-
balls, land-balls.
Ball, among the Cornish miners, signifies a tin-
mine.
Ball, among printers, a kind of wooden tunnel
stuffed with wool, contained in a leather cover, which
is nailed to the wood, with which the ink is applied on
the forms to be wrought oft'. See Printing.
Horse-BALLS, among farriers. Horses have a very
nice taste 5 it is therefore proper to give the more dis¬
agreeable drugs in the form of balls, and to make
drenches of the more palatable. Balls should be of an
oval shape, not exceeding the size of a pullet’s egg 5
and should he dipped in sweet oil to make them slip
down the easier. Some horses have a strait gullet,
which makes them very averse to a ball being thrust
down their throats j such horses had better have
drenches given them, or their medicines may be mix¬
ed with bran, or in their mashes. See Farriery,
passim.
Ball-Vein, in Mineralogy, a name given by the
miners of Sussex to a sort of iron ore common there,
and wrought to considerable advantage. It yields not
any great quantity of metal, but what it has runs freely
in the fire ; it is usually found in loose masses, not in
the form of a stratum, and is often covered with one
or more crusts. It generally contains some sparkling
particles } and is usually of a circular form in the per¬
fect masses, thickest in the middle, and gradually thin¬
ner as it approaches the sides. The ores of Sussex in
general are poor, but they require very little trouble in
the working; so that a considerable profit is made an¬
nually from them.
Bali, and Socket, an instrument made of brass, with
a perpetual screw, so as to move horizontally, vertically,
and obliquely $ and is generally used for the managing
of surveying or astronomical instruments.
Puff-Ball, the English name of the lycoperdon. See
Lycoferdon, Botany Index.
Martial Balls, in Bharmacy, are a mixture of fil¬
ings of iron and cream of tartar, formed into a solid
consistence and form of a ball, which is used to im¬
pregnate water or other liquids with iron dissolved by
the tartareous acid. To make these balls, one part of
filings of iron and two parts powdered cream of tartar
are mixed well together, and put into an earthen or
iron vessel with some water. This mixture is to be stir¬
red from time to time, till it becomes almost dry 5 and
then it is to receive more water, and to be stirred as
before. Ihis treatment is to be continued till it ac¬
quires, when nearly dry, somewhat of the consistence
and tenacity of softened rosin. Then it is to be rolled
up in the form of a ball, which is generally kept tied
up in a rag ; and when intended to be used, it is to
be infused^ in water, till it gives some colour to that
liquid.. The infusion of martial balls is tonic, vulne¬
rary, discutient, and aperitive ; and is employed both
internally and externally. Iron being soluble in all
acids, is attacked in this preparation by the tartareous
acid, which reduces it to a kind of neutral salt not cry-
stalhzable. Ihis salt would remain liquid, and would
form a soluble martial tartar, called tartarised tincture
oj Mars. If proper proportions of filings of iron and
cream of tartar be used, and treated long enough for
an entire and complete combination, nothing would be
obtained but a liquor or magma, which could not be
preserved in a solid form, but would be continual¬
ly moist. Therefore, in the martial ball there is a
good deal of the cream of tartar and filings of iron
not combined together, by which its solidity is pre¬
served.
Mercurial Balls, in Bharmacy, are an amalgam of
mercury and tin, sufficiently solid to be moulded, and
to preserve a given form. The method of making them
is by adding mercury to melted tin, and pouring the
fluid mass into a round hollow mould. These balls are
employed to purify water, in which they are boiled j for
which purpose travellers often carry some along with
them. Nothing, however, can be more pernicious than
such a practice, should the water contain any nitrous
acid, which it very often does.
Balls of Silk-worms and Spiders, are little cases or
cones of silk, wherein those insects deposite their eggs.
Spiders are extremely tender of their balls, which they
carry about with them, adhering to the papillae about
their anus. Grew mentions balls or bags of a species
of silk-worms in Virginia as big as hens eggs, and con¬
taining each four aurelias.
Zoologists speak of a sort of balls of hair covered
over with a smooth shining coat or shell, found in the
stomachs of oxen, cows, calves, horses, sheep, and goats.
See the article Bezoar.
Balls of Fire, in Meteorology. See Fire, Balls
of
Balls, in Electricity, are two pieces of cork, or pith
of elder, nicely turned in a lathe to the size of a small
pea, and suspended by fine linen threads j intended as
electrometers, and of excellent use to discover small de¬
grees of electricity, to observe the changes of it from
positive to negative, and vice versa; and to estimate
the force of a shock before the discharge, so that the
operator should always be able to tell very nearly be¬
fore the discharge, by knowing how high he has char¬
ged his jars, what the explosion will be.
Fire-BALLS, are bags of canvas filled with gun¬
powder, sulphur, saltpetre, pitch, &c. to be thrown by
the soldiers, or out ol mortars, in order to fire the houses
incommoding trenches, advanced posts, or the like.—-
The Greeks had divers kinds of fire-balls, or
Aiflai j one kind called, more particularly, e-KvlxXue, or
e-KvlxXihf, made of wood, sometimes a foot or even
a cubit long j their heads being armed with spikes of
iron, beneath which were hemp, pitch, and other
combustibles, which being set on fire, they were cast
among the enemy. The preparations of fire-balls,
among the moderns, consist of several operations, viz.
making the bag, preparing the composition, tying,
and, lastly, dipping the ball. 1. The bags for this
purpose are either oval or round. 2. The composition
wherewith fire-balls are filled is various: To ten
pounds of meal-gunpowder add two of saltpetre, one
of sulphur, and one of colophony $ or to six pounds
of gunpowder, add four of saltpetre, four of sulphur,
one of powdered glass, half a pound of antimony, as
much camphor, an ounce of sal-ammoniac, and four of
common salt, all pulverised. Sometimes they even fill
fire-balls with hand grenades. 3. For tying the fire¬
balls, they prepare two iron rings, one fitted round the
aperture,
B A I
Balls, aperture, where the ball is to be lighted, the other
~y—near its base. A cord is tied to these rings in such a
manner, as that the several turns represent semicircles
of the sphere cutting the globe through the poles: over
the cords, extended according to the length of the ball,
others are tied, cutting the former at right angles, and
parallel to each other, making a knot at each intersec¬
tion : lastly, after putting in a leaden bullet, the rest of
the space is filled with tow or paper. 4. Thus com¬
pleted, the fire-ball remains to be dipped in a composi¬
tion of melted pitch four pounds, colophony two, and
linseed oil or oil of turpentine two j after dipping, they
cover it round with tow, and dip again, till it be
brought to the just diameter required.
Light-BALLs, are such as diffuse an intense light
around 5 or they are balls which, being cast out of the
hand or a mortar, burn for some time, and illuminate
the adjacent parts. 1. Luminous or light-balls for
the hand are made of ground powder, saltpetre,
brimstone, camphor, and borax, all sprinkled with oil,
and moulded into a mass with suet; and this is wrap¬
ped up in tow, with a sheet of strong paper over it.
To fire it, they make a hole into it with a bodkin, in¬
to which they put some priming, that will burn slow.
Its use is to be cast into any works they would discover
in the night-time. 2. For the larger light-balls, or
those to be thrown to a greater distance, they melt
equal quantities of sulphur, turpentine, and pitch 5 and
therein dip an earthen or stone ball, of a diameter much
less than that of the mortar out of which the fire¬
ball is to be cast: then rolling it in gunpowder, and
covering it round with gauze, they dip it again, and
repeat the rest till it come to fit the cavity of the
mortar : lastly, they sprinkle it round with gun¬
powder. This, being once kindled, will strongly il¬
luminate all around the place where it is thrown, and
give opportunity to examine the state and condition
thereof.
Smoke or Dark-BALLS, those which fill the air with
smoke, and thus darken a place to prevent discoveries.
To prepare a darkening ball, make an oval or spheri¬
cal bag j melt rosin over the coals, and add an equal
part of saltpetre not purified, also of sulphur, and a
fifth part of charcoal. The whole being well incorpo¬
rated, put in tow first shred, and fill the bags with
this composition, and dip it after the same manner as a
fire-ball.
Stitik-BALLs, those which yield a great stench where
fired to annoy the enemy. Their preparation is thus :
Melt ten pounds of pitch, six of rosin, twenty of salt¬
petre, eight of gunpowder, and four of colophony $ to
these add two of charcoal, six of horse-hoofs cut
small, three of asafetida, one of stinking-saracen, and
any other offensive ingredients. The rest as in the
former.
Sky-BALLS, those cast on high out of mortars, and
which, when arrived at their height, bursting like roc¬
kets, afford a spectacle of decoration. Sky-balls are
made of a wooden shell, filled with various compositions,
particularly that of the stars of rockets. These are
sometimes intermixed with crackers and other combus¬
tibles, making rains of fire, &c.
fFater-Balls, those which swim and burn a consi¬
derable time in the water, and at length burst therein.
These are made in a wooden shell, the cavity of which
Vol. III. Part 1. J a.
B A L
is filled with refined saltpetre, sulphur, saw-dust boiled
in water of saltpetre, and dried ; to which sometimes
other ingredients are added, as iron filings, Greek
pitch, amber dust, powdered glass, and camphor. The
ingredients are to be ground, mixed up, and moistened
with linseed oil, nut oil, olive oil, hempseed oil, or pe¬
trol. At the bottom is placed an iron coffin, filled
with whole gunpowder, that the ball may at last burst
with a greater noise: and, lastly, the ball is by the ad¬
dition of lead or otherwise, made of the same specific
gravity with water.
Land-BALLS are those which, being thrown out of a
mortar, fall to the ground, burn, and burst there. The
ingredients are much the same as in the ivater-balls, on¬
ly the specific gravity is not attended to.
PALLAD, a kind of song, adapted to the capacity
of the lower class of people 5 'who, being mightily taken
ivith this species of poetry, are thereby not a little in¬
fluenced in the conduct of their lives. Hence we find,
that seditious and designing men never fail to spread
ballads among the people, with a view to gain them
over to their side.
BALLAGHAN, a town of Ireland, in the county
of Sligo, and province of Connaught. W. Long. 9. 50.
N. Lat. 53, 48.
BALLAN, or Ballon, a town of France, in the
department of Sarthe, seated on the river Orne. E.
Long. o. 20. N. Lat. 48. 10.
BALLAST, any heavy matter, as stone, gravel, iron,
&c. thrown into the hold of a ship, in order to make
her sink a proper depth in the water, that she may be
capable of carrying a sufficient quantity of sail without
.oversetting.
There is often great difference in the proportion of
ballast required to prepare ships of equal burden for a
yoyagej the quantity being always more or less accord¬
ing to the sharpness or flatness of the ship’s bottom,
which seamen call thejtfoor.
The knowledge of ballasting a ship with propriety,
is certainly an article that deserves the attention of the
skilful mariner: for though it is known, that ships in.
general will not carry a sufficient quantity of sail till
they are laden so deep that the surface of the water will
nearly glance on the extreme breadth amidships, yet
there is more than this general knowledge required ;
since, if she has a great weight of heavy ballast, as lead,
iron, &c. in the bottom, it will place the centre of
gravity too low in the hold 5 and although this will en¬
able her to carry a great sail, she will nevertheless sail
very heavily, and run the risk of being dismasted by
her violent rolling.
To ballast a ship, therefore, is the art of disposing
those materials so that she may be duly poised, and
maintain a proper equilibrium on the water, so as nei¬
ther to be too stiff nor too crank, qualities equally per¬
nicious : as in the first, although the ship may be fitted
to carry a great sail, yet her velocity will not be pro-
portionably increased; whilst her masts are more endan¬
gered by her sudden jerks and excessive labouring: and
in the last, she will be incapable of carrying sail, with¬
out the risk of oversetting.
Stiffness, in ballasting, is occasioned by disposing a
great quantity of heavy ballast, as lead, iron, &c. in the
bottom, which naturally places the centre of gravity
very near the keel j and that being the centre about
Y y which
[ 353 ]
Balls
11
Ballast.
B A L t 354 ] B A L
Ballast which the vibrations are made, the lower it is placed,
l| the more violent will he the motion of rolling.
Balleiulen. Crankness, on the other hand, is occasioned by having
too jjtt]e kai]ast} or bj disposing the ship’s lading so as to
raise the centre of gravity too high, which also endangers
the mast in carrying sail when it blows hard : for when
the masts lose their perpendicular height, they strain on
the shrouds in the nature of a lever, which increases as
the sine of their obliquity j and a ship that loses her
masts is in great danger of being lost.
The whole art of ballasting, therefore, consists in
placing the centre of gravity to correspond with
the trim and shape of the vessel, so as neither to
be too high nor too low, neither too far forwards
nor too far aft; and to lade the ship so deep, that the
surface of the water may nearly rise to the extreme
breadth, amidships 5 and thus she will be enabled to
carry a good sail, incline but little, and ply well to the
windward.
Ships are said to be in ballast when they have no
other loading. Masters of vessels are obliged to declare
the quantity of ballast they bear, and to unload it at
certain places. They are prohibited unloading their
ballast in havens, roads, See. the neglect of which has
ruined many excellent ports.—Ships and vessels taking
in ballast in the river Thames are to pay so much a ton
to Trinity-house, Deptford j who shall employ ballast-
men, and regulate them $ and their lighters to be mark¬
ed, &c. on pain of 10I.
BALLATOONS, large heavy luggage-boats used
for carrying wood by the river from Astracan and the
Caspian sea to Moscow. These will carry from 100 to
200 tons, and have from 100 to 120 men employed to
row and tow them along.
BALLENDEN, Sir John, a Scottish poet, in the
reign of James V. of Scotland, was descended from
an ancient family in that kingdom. His father, Mr
Thomas Ballenden of Auchinoul, was director to the
chancery in the year 1540, and clerk register in 1541.
Where our poet was educated, we are not informed ;
but from one of his poems we learn, that in his youth
he had some employment at the court of King James V.
and that he was in great favour with that prince. Ha¬
ving taken orders, and being created doctor of divinity
at the Sorbonne, he was made canon of Ross, and arch¬
deacon of Moray. He likewise obtained the place of
clerk-register, but was afterwards deprived of that em¬
ployment by the factions of the times 5 however, in
the succeeding reign of Mary, he recovered that office,
and was one of the lords of session. Being a zealous
1 apist, he, in conjunction with Dr Laing, was extremely
assiduous in retarding the progress ot the reformationj
till at last, finding the opposition too powerful, he quit¬
ted Scotland, and went to Rome, where he died in the
year 1550. He is generally esteemed one of the best
Scottish poets of that age. His works are, 1. The His¬
tory and Chronicles of Scotland of Hector Boeis (Boe¬
thius), translated by Mr John Ballenden, Edinb. 1536.
I his is not a mere translation, Ballenden having cor¬
rected several mistakes of his author, and made large
additions. It is in folio, and black letter. 2. Cosmo¬
graphy to the History of Scotland, with a poetical poem.
3. A Description ofAlbany. 4. Translation of Boethius's
Description of Scotland. 5. Epistles to King James V.
* ale says he had seen these letters. 6. Several poems
in Carmichael’s collection of Scottish poems $ besides Ballenden
many others in manuscript, in private libraries in Scot- ||
land. 7. Virtue and Vyce, a poem addressed to King Ballisteum.
James V. —y'—'
BALLET, Balet, or Balletto, a kind of drama¬
tic poem, representing some fabulous action or subject
divided into several entries*, wherein several persons ap¬
pear, and recite things under the name of some deity, or
other illustrious character.
Ballet is more particularly used for a kind of comic
dance, consisting of a series of several airs of different
kinds of movements, which together represent some sub¬
ject or action. They are performed chiefly by masks
representing sylvans, tritons, nymphs, shepherds, and
the like j and consist of three parts, the entry, figure,
and the retreat. The word is of Greek origin, formed
from jacere, to cast, throw, or toss 5 whence
also in writers of the middle age, we find ballationes
for saltationes, dancings; and ballare for saltare, to
dance.
BALLIAGE, or Bailiage, in Commerce, a small
duty paid to the city of London by aliens, and even de¬
nizens, for certain commodities exported by them.
BALLICONNEL, a town of Ireland in the county
of Cavan, and province of Ulster. W. Long. 7. 43.
N. Lat. 54. 6.
B ALLIS HANNON, a large town of Ireland in the
county of Donegal, or Tyrconnel, with a good haven.
W. Long. 8. 25. N. Lat. 54. 25.
BALLlSTA, a machine used by the ancients for
shooting darts; it resembled in some measure our cros-
bow. The word is Latin, signifying a cross-bow j and
is derived from the Greek flctX**, to shoot, or throw.
Vegetius informs us, that the ballista discharged darts
with such rapidity and violence that nothing could resist
their force : and Atheneeus adds, that Agistrains made
one of little more than two feet in length, which shot
darts 500 paces.
In Plate LXXXIV. is represented the balista used in
sieges, according to the chevalier Folard: 2, 2, the base
of the ballista $ 3, 4, upright beams ; 5, 6, transverse
beams j 7, 7, the two capitals in the upper transverse
beam, (the lower transverse beam has also two similar
capitals, which cannot be seen in this transverse figure) j
9, 9, two posts or supports for strengthening the trans¬
verse beams j 10, 10, two skains of cords fastened to
the capitals 5 11, 11, two arms inserted between the
two stands, or parts of the skains j 12, a cord fastened
to the two arms j 13, darts which are shot by the bal¬
lista j 14, 14, curves in the upright beams, and in the
concavity of which cushions are fastened, in order to
break the force of the arms, which strike against them
with great force when the dart is discharged ; 16, the
arbor of the machine, in which a groove or canal per¬
fectly straight is formed, and in which the darts are
placed in order to their being shot by the ballista \ 17,
the nut of the trigger; 18, the roll or windlass, about
which the cord is wound j 19, a hook, by which the
cord is drawn towards the centre, and the ballista cock¬
ed ; 20, a stage or table on which the arbor is in part
sustained.
BALLISTEUM, or Ballistr^ea, in antiquity,
a military song or dance used on occasions of victory.
Vopiscus has preserved the balisteum sung in honour of
Aurelian, who, in the Sarmatian war, was said to
have
B A L [ 355 1 B A L
Ballisleum ^ave killed 48 of the enemy in one day with his own
|| hand. Mille, mille, mille, mille, mille, mille decolla-
Ballooti. vimus: Units homo mille, mille, mille, mille decollavit;
' mille, mille, mille vivat, qui mille, mille occidit. Tan-
tum vini habet nemo, quantum fudit sanguinis. The
same writer subjoins another popular song of the same
kind: Mille Francos, milk Sarmatas, semel occidimus ;
milk, milk, milk, milk, milk, Fersas, qucerimus. It
took the denomination ballisteum from the Greek TSxWw,
jack, or jacto, to cast or toss, on account of the mo¬
tions used in this dance, which was attended with great
elevations and swingings of the hands. The ballistea
were a kind of popular ballads, composed by poets of
the lower class, without much regard to the laws of
metre.
BALLISTIC pendulum, an ingenious machine in¬
vented by Benjamin Robbins for ascertaining the velo¬
city of military projectiles, and consequently the force
of fired gunpowder. It consists of a large block of
wood, annexed to the end of a strong iron stem, having
a cross steel axis at the other end, placed horizontally,
about which the whole vibrates together like the pen¬
dulum of a clock. The machine being at rest, a piece
of ordnance is pointed straight towards the wooden
block, or ball of this pendulum, and then discharged :
the consequence is this 5 the ball discharged from the
gun strikes and enters the block, and causes the pen¬
dulum to vibrate more or less according to the velocity
of the projectile, or the force of the blow ; and by ob¬
serving the extent of the vibration, the force of that
blow becomes known, or the greatest velocity with
which the block is moved out of its place, and conse¬
quently the velocity of the projectile itself which struck
the blow and urged the pendulum. Hutton's Mathe-
mat. Diet.
BALLOON, or Balon, in a general sense, sig¬
nifies any spherical hollow body, of whatever matter it
be composed, or for whatever purposes it be designed.
Thus, with chemists, balloon denotes a round short¬
necked vessel, used to receive what is distilled by means
of fire ; in architecture, a round globe on the to'p of a
pillar j and among engineers, a kind of bomb made of
pasteboard, and played off, in fire-works, either in the
air or on the water, in imitation of a real bomb.
AIt-Balloon. See Aerostation.
Balloon also denotes a kind of game something re¬
sembling tennis. The balloon is played in the open field,
with a great round ball of double leather blown up with
wind, and thus driven to and fro with the strength of a
man’s arm, fortified with a brace of wood.
Balloon, or Balloen, is more particularly used
among voyagers for the state-barges of Siam. The
balloons are a kind of brigantine, managed with oars,
of very odd figures, as serpents, sea-horses, &c. but
by their sharpness and number of oars, of incredible
swiftness. The balloons are said to be made of a single
piece of timber, of uncommon length ; they are raised
high, and much decorated with carving at head and
stern : some are gilt over, and carry 120 or even 150
rowers on each side. The oars are either plated over
with silver, or gilt, or radiated with gold ; and the
dome or canopy in the middle, where the company is
placed, is ornamented with some rich stuff, and furnish¬
ed with a ballustrade of ivory, or other costly matter, en¬
riched with gilding. The edges of the balloon just touch
the water, but the extremities rise with a swsep to a Balloon
great height. Some are adorned with a variety of fi- (1
gures, made of pieces of mother-of-pearl inlaid : the
richer sort, instead of a dome, carry a kind of steeple in
the middle ; so that, considering the slenderness of the
vessel, which is usually 100 or 120 feet long, and scarce
six broad, the height of the two ends, and of the steeple
with the load of decorations, it is a kind of miracle they
are not overset.
Balloon, in the French paper trade, is a term for
a quantity of paper, containing 24 reams.
Balloon, Ballon, or Ballot, in the French glass-
trade, signifies a certain quantity of glass-plates, small¬
er or greater according to their quality. The ballon of
white glass contains 25 bundles, of six plates per bun¬
dle ; but the ballon of coloured glass is only of i2f-
bundles, and of three plates to a bundle.
BALLOTA, White Horehound. See Botany
Index.
BALLOTADE, in the manege, the leap of a horse
between two pillars, or upon a straight line, made with
justness of time, with the aid of the hand and the
calves of the legs: and in such a manner, that when
his fore-feet are in the air, he shows nothing but the
shoes of his hinder feet without yerking out.
BALLOTING, a method of voting at elections,
&c. by means of little balls usually of different colours,
by the French called ballots; which are put into a box
privately.
BALLS, or Ballets, in Heraldry, a frequent bear¬
ing in coats of arms, usually denominated, according to
their colour, bezantes, plates, hurts, &c.
BALLUSTER, a small kind of pillar used for bal-
lustrades.
BALLUSTRADE, a series or row of ballusters,
joined by a rail j serving as well for a rest to the el¬
bows as for a fence or enclosure to balconies, altars,
staircases, &c. See Architecture, N° 74.
BALM. See Melissa, Botany Index.
Balm, or Balsam. See Balsam.
Balm of Gilead. See Supplement.
BALNAVES, Henry, a Scottish Protestant divine,
born in the shire of Fife, in the reign of James V.
and educated at the university of St Andrew’s. He
went afterwards to France in order to finish his studies;
and returning to Scotland, was admitted into the fa¬
mily of the earl of Arran, who at that time governed
the kingdom : but in the year 1542 the earl dismissed
him for having embraced the Protestant religion. In
1564, he joined, says Mackenzie, the murderers of
Cardinal Beaton ; for which he was declared a traitor,
and excommunicated. Whilst that party were be¬
sieged in the castle of St Andrew’s, they sent Balnaves
to England, who returned with a considerable supply
of provisions and money ; but being at last obliged to
surrender to the French, he was sent with the rest
of the garrison to France. He returned to Scotland,
about the year 1559 J and having joined the Congre¬
gation, he was appointed one of the commissioners to
treat with the duke of Norfolk on the part of Queen
Elizabeth. In 1563 he was made one of the lords of
session, and appointed by the general assembly, with
other learned men, to revise the book of Discipline.
Knox, his cotemporary, and fellow-labourer, gives him
the character of a very learned and pious divine. He
Y y 2 died
rl
B A L [ 356 ]
Ealnavcs died at Edinburgh in the year 1579. He wrote,
II I. A Treatise concerning Justification. Edinh. 1550,
Baltimora. gvo_ 2. A Catechism, or Confession of Faith. Edinb.
v^""'' 1584, 8vo.
BALNEARII SERVI, in antiquity, servants or at¬
tendants belonging to the baths. Some were appointed
to heat them, called fornicatorss; others were denomi¬
nated capsarii, who kept the clothes of those that went
into them $ others alliptce, whose care it was to pull
off the hair; others unctuarii, who anointed and per¬
fumed the body.
BALNEARIUS FUR, in antiquity, a kind of thief
who practised stealing the clothes of persons in the
baths j sometimes also called fur balnearum. The
crime of those thieves was a kind of sacrilege j for the
hot baths were sacred : hence they were more severely
punished than common thieves who stole out of private
houses. The latter were acquitted with paying double
the value of the thing stolen ; whereas the former were
punished with death.
BALNEUM, a term used by chemists to signify a
vessel filled with some matter, as sand, water, or the
like, in which another is placed that requires a more
gentle heat than the naked fire.
BALSA, an ancient town of Lusitania, in the Ager
Cunseus ; now Tavira, capital of Algarva.
BALSAM, or Native Balsam, an oily, resinous,
liquid substance, flowing either spontaneously, or by
means of incision, from certain plants. There are a
great variety of balsams, generally denominated from
the substances from which they are obtained ; and
which are explained under their names as they occur.
BALSAMICS. Salscmuca is a Latin word which
signifies mitigating. The term balsamic is a very lax
one j it includes medicines of very different qualities,
as emollients, detergents, restoratives, &c. but in me-
Motfierby's dicines of all these kinds there seems to be this requi-
Med, Diet. in them, viz. that they be soft, yielding, and ad¬
hesive, also that by their smallness they have a ready
disposition to motion. Medicines of this tribe are ge¬
nerally required for complaints whose seat is in the vis¬
cera j and as they cannot be conveyed there but by the
common road of the circulation, it follows, that no
great effects can be expected from them but by their
long continuation. Hoffman calls by the name of bal-
samics those medicines which are hot and acrid, also
the natural balsams, gums, &c. by which the vital heat
is increased.
BALSORA. See Bassora.
BALTAGI, among the Turks, porters and hewers
of wood, in the court of the grand signior •, who also
mount on horseback when the emperor rides out. Part
of them also, who, for that purpose, must be castrated,
keep watch at the gates of the first and second courts
of the seraglio. The first are called capigiy and their
commander capigipascha.
BALTIC sea, a great gulf surrounded by Sweden,
Russia, Courland, Prussia, Pomerania, and Denmark.
The king ot Denmark levies a tax at Elsineur on every
ship that enters the Baltic sea. It is remarkable that
this sea neither ebbs nor flows, and there is always a
cm lent sets through the Sound into the ocean. It is Ge¬
nerally frozen over three or four months in the year.
See Baltic, Supplement.
BALTIMORA. See Botany Index.
B A L
BALTIMORE, a town of Ireland in the county of Baltimore
Cork, a province of Munster, with the title of a baro¬
ny. It is seated on a headland which runs into the
sea, fire miles north-east of Cape Clear. W. Long.
9. 10. N. Lat. 51. 15.
Baltimore, a town of Maryland, in North Ame¬
rica. It is situated round the head of a small bay,
which is an arm of the Chesapeake, and near the mouth
of the river Patapsco. The bason which forms the har¬
bour is of a circular form, with a narrow entrance
guarded by a fort, and is large enough to contain 2000
merchant vessels. Baltimore is now the third port in
point of trade in the United States, New York and
Philadelphia only being superior. Its progress has
been rapid beyond example. In 1750 it was a village
of 10 or 12 houses, and in 1818 it contained 60,000
inhabitants. The merchants here are rated as being
among the most enterprising in the United States. The
tonnage belonging to the port in 1815 amounted to
107,137 tons. A British force attacked Baltimore in
September 1814; but the ships of war being unable to
force the entrance to the harbour, the attack by land
proved unsuccessful, and the troops withdrew, with the
loss of the commander, General Ross, and 200 men.
The houses in Baltimore are generally well built, and
many of the public edifices are extremely handsome.
The Roman Catholics are the most numerous class j
the other considerable sects are the Episcopalians,
Presbyterians, Baptists, and Quakers. The democra¬
tic party have a more decided superiority in Baltimore
than in any other great city in the United States. W.
Long. 76. 40. N. Lat. 39. 10.
BALTiMORS-Bird. See Oriolus, Ornithology
Index.
BALTZAR, Thomas, a native of Lubec, was an
eminent musical composer, and esteemed the finest per¬
former on the violin of his time. He came into Eng¬
land in the year 1658, and lived about two years in
the house of Sir Anthony Cope of Hanwel in Oxford¬
shire. He was the great competitor of Davis Mell,
who, though a clockmaker by trade, was, till Baltzar
came hither, allowed to be the finest performer on the
violin in England ; and after his arrival he divided with
him the public applause, it being agreed that Mell ex¬
celled in the fineness of his tone and the sweetness of
his manner, and Baltzar in the power of execution and
command of the instrument. Moreover, it is said of
the latter, that he first taught the English the practice
of shifting, and the use of the upper part of the finger¬
board. Baltzar was given to intemperance, and is said
to have shortened his days by excessive drinking: he
was buried in Westminster-abbey on the 27th day of
July 1663.
BALUCLAVO, or Jambol, a sea-port town of the
Crimea on the Black sea, where they build ships for the
grand signior. E. Long. 35. 15. N. Lat. 44. 50.
BALUZE, Stephen, a French writer, born in
1651, and some time librarian to M. Colbert. In 1693
be obtained a pension, with the post of director of the
Royal College, for writing the lives of the popes of
Avignon •, both which advantages he soon lost in the
fluctuation of court parties. M. BaluZe is much more
noted lor collecting ancient MSS. and illustrasing them
by notes, than famed for his own compositions.
BAL YUR, or Baliur, a sea-port of Africa in the
kingdom-
BAM [ 357 ] BAM
Baiyur kingdom of Dancall, about 14 hours journey west from copper, tin, and iron j but none except the iron mines Bamb*.
[j* Babel-Mande). It is remarkable only for being the are allowed to be worked. ||
Bamba. Jantling place of the Abyssinian patriarch Alphonsus BAMBERG, a large handsome town of FranconiaBamboccio*
v ' Mendez, with his Jesuits and Portuguese, on April 3d in Germany, and capital of a bishopric of the same * '
1724* I he royal palace they found to consist of about name. It was formerly imperial, but is now subject
halt a dozen of tents, and a score of huts, if need about to Bavaria. The country about it produces plenty of
with a thorn hedge, and shaded by some wild kinds of corn, fruits, and liquorice. It has an university, found-
trees. The hall of audience was only a large tent about ed in 1585 ; and is situated at the confluence of tha
a musket-shot from the rest. At the upper end was a rivers Main and Regnitz. E. Long. 10. 15. N. Lat.
kind of throne made of stones and clay, covered with a 50. 10.
carpet, and two velvet cushions. At the other end was Bamberg, a town of Bohemia, situated at the foot
his majesty’s horse, with the saddle and other accoutre- of a mountain. E. Long. 16. 50. N. Lat. 49. 53.
ments hanging one side. BAMBOCCIO, a celebrated painter of conversa-
BALZAC, John Lewis Guez he, born at An- tions, landscapes, cattle, &c. w'as born at Laeren near
gouleme in 1595. Voltaire allows him the merit of Narden in 1613. His name was Peter Van Laer j
having given numbers and harmony to the French prose, but in Italy they gave him the name of Bamboccio,
but censures his style as somewhat bombastic. The cri- on account of the uncommon shape of his body, the
tics of his own time gave him no little disquiet $ and he lower part being one-third longer than the upper,
gave them no little advantage over him by his sallies of and his neck so short that it was buried between his
vanity, and some particular propositions which were a shoulders. He had, however, an ample amends for
little dangerous. M. Balzac, getting rid of these dis- the unseemliness of his limbs, in the superior beauties
putes by his moderation, settled at his country-seat; re- of his mind : he was endowed with an extensive genius ;
fined his style and genius; and got by his letters and and, indeed, had an universal taste for every part of
other writings which he published from time to time, the painting. He resided at Rome for sixteen years suc-
reputation of being the first writer in France. He was cessively ; every day studying to improve himself by
at length drawn from his retirement by the hopes of those beautiful models which were continually open to
making his fortune under Cardinal Richlieu, who had his observation, and by the lovely scenery in the envi-
formerly courted his friendship: but in a few' years he rons of that city. He was held in the highest esteem
retired again, disgusted with the slavish dependence of by all ranks of men, as well as by those of his own
a court life. All he obtained from the court was a pen- profession 5 not only on account of his extraordinary
sion of 2000 livres, with the titles of counsellor of state abilities, but also for the amiable qualities of his mind',
and historiographer of I ranee. He died in 1634? sod He studied nature incessantly j observing with a cu-
was buried in the hospital of Notre Dame des Anges, rious exactness every effect of light on different objects,
to which he bequeathed 12,000 livres. He left an at different hours of the day; and whatsoever incident
estate of 100 franks per annum, for a gold medal to be afforded pleasure to his imagination, his memory for
bestowed every two years for the best discourse on some ever perfectly retained. His style of painting is sweet
moral subject. Besides his letters he wrote a work call- and true ; and his touch delicate, with great transparen-
w\ Oeuvres Diverges, i. e. on various subjects; The cy of colouring. His figures are always of a small size.
Prince; The Christian Socrates, &c. and many other well proportioned, and correctly designed ; and al-
pieces; all of which have been published in twovols folio, though his subjects are taken but from the lower kind
B AIM BA, a province of the kingdom of Congo in of nature, such as plunderings, playing at bowls, inns,
Africa.—It is situated between the rivers of Ambrisi farriers shops, cattle, or conversations ; yet whatever
and Lose ; the last of which parts it from Pemba on he painted was so excellently designed, so happily exe-
the east, as the Ambrisi does from the province of Sog- cuted, and so highly finished, that his manner was
no on the north. Along the sea-coast it extends itself adopted by many of the Italian painters of his time,
northward to the river Lelunda; and on the south to His works are still universally admired, and he is just-
that of Danda, which parts it from the kingdom of ly ranked among the first class of the eminent masters.
Angola. The governors of this province bearThe title His hand was as quick as his imagination, so that he
0^ dukes t and are always some of the princes of the rarely made sketches or designs for any of his works;
royal family. They are as despotic and arbitrary as if he only marked the subject with a crayon on the can-
they were really kings, notwithstanding the care and vas, and finished it without more delay. His memory
pains their monarchs have taken to keep them within was amazing: for whatever objects he saw, if he con---
due bounds. The soil of this province is very fertile ; sidered them with any intention to insert them in his
and would produce all the necessaries of life in great compositions, the idea of them was so strongly, impres-
plenty, were the inhabitants but industrious in its cul- ed on his mind, that he could represent them with as
tivation. I he sea coasts produce a vast quantity of much truth as if they were placed before his eyes,
salt, which could be purified with little trouble, and Sandrart observes, that although painters who are ac-
would yield an extraordinary revenue if the duties were customed to a small size are frequently inaccurate in
duly paid : but these the governors find means to sink the disposition of the different parts of their subject,
mostly into their own coffers.—Here is also the fishery seeming content if the whole appears natural ; yet Bam-
of the zimbis, or little sea-snail, whose shell is the cur- boccio was as minutely exact in having his figures,
rent coin not only in this and the neighbouring king- trees, grounds, and distances, determined with the ut-
doms, but also in the most distant parts of Africa. Here most precision and perspective truth, as the best mas-
are also said to be mines of gold, silver, quicksilver, ters usually are in pictures of the largest size; which
* is
BAM
t 358 ]
BAM
Bamboccio one circumstance that causes the eye to be so agree-
|i ably deluded by the paintings of Bamboccio. In the
Baru- latter part of his life, he was severely tormented with
borough. an ast|imat|c complaint, which he endured with much
t impatience 3 and it is reported, that as the disorder
seemed to him insupportable, he threw himself into a
canal to shorten his misery, and was drowned. His
death happened in 1673.
BAMBOE, in Botany, the trivial name of a species
of arundo. See Arundo, Botany Index.
BAMBOE-Habit; a Chinese contrivance by which a
person who cannot swim may easily keep himself above
water. The following account of it is from a letter
to the author of the Seaman's Preservative. “ In the
year 1730, I was passenger in a ship from Batavia to
China, burden about 400 tons, called the Pridae,
Francisco Xavier commander, freighted by English,
Chinese, and Portuguese. Near the coast of China
We met one of those storms called a tuftoon (tau-fong),
or a great wind, which carried away all our masts,
bowsprit and rudder; and in our hold we had six feet
of water, expecting every moment the ship would
founder.—We consequently were consulting our preser¬
vation : the English and Portuguese stood in their shirts
only, ready to be thrown off $ but the Chinese mer¬
chants came upon deck, not in a cork-jacket, but ]
will call it a bamboe-habit, which had lain ready in
their chests against such dangers 3 and it was thus con¬
structed 3 four bamboes, two before and two behind
their bodies, were placed horizontally, and projected
about 28 inches. These were crossed on each side by
two others, and the whole properly secured, leaving a
space for their body 3 so that they had only to put it
over their heads, and tie the same securely, which was
done in two minutes, and we were satisfied they could
not possibly sink.” The shape is here subjoined.
BAMBOROUGH, an inconsiderable village in
Northumberland, on the sea coast, 14 miles north of
Alnwick, was once a royal borough, and sent two
members to parliament: it even gave name to a large
tract extending southward, which was called Bam-
bnroughshire. It had also three religious foundations 3
a hou^e of trial’s preachers founded by Henry III. a
cell of canons regular of St Austin, and an hospital.
Its very ancient castle stands on an almost perpendi¬
cular rock close to the sea, and accessible only on the
,south-east side, on a spot where, according to the monk¬
ish historians, there stood the castle or palace of the
kings of Northumberland 3 built, as it is said, by King
Ida, who began his reign about the year 559. Part of
tue present ruins are by some supposed to be the re¬
mains of King Ida’s work. The ancient name of this
place was, it is said, Bebbanborough ; which name Cam¬
den, from the authority of Bede, imagines borrowed
from Bebba, Ida’s queen : but the author of the addi- v
tions to that writer is of a contrary opinion, as in the
Saxon copy it is called Cynclicatiberg, or the “ royal
mansion.” According to Florilegus, King Ida at first
fenced it only with a wooden enclosure, but afterwards
surrounded it with a wall. It is thus described by Roger
Hoveden, who wrote in the year 1192 : “ Bebba is a
very strong city, but not exceeding large j containing
not more than two or three acres of ground. It has
but one hollow entrance into it, which is admirably
raised by steps. On the top of a hill stands a fair
church 3 and in the western point is a well curious¬
ly adorned, and of sweet clean water.” This castle
was besieged anno 642 by Penda, the Pagan king of
the Mercians, who, as the story goes, attempted to burn
it : for which purpose he laid vast, quantities of wood
under the walls, and set fire to it as soon as the wind
was favourable 3 but no sooner was it kindled, than by
the prayers of St Adian, the wind changed and carried
the flames into his camp, so that he was obliged to raise
the siege. In 710, King Osred, on the death of
Alfred his father, took shelter in this castle with Bri-
thric his tutor or guardian 3 one Edulph having seized
the crown, by whom, with his partizans, they were
unsuccessfully besieged. Brithric made so gallant a
defence, that the siege was turned into a blockade,
which gave the royal subjects time to arm in defence
of their young king. On their marching hither to his
relief, Edulph fled : but was followed, taken, and put
to death by Brithric, who thereby securely seated Os¬
red on the throne, when this castle became his palace.
In the reign of Egbert, Kenulph bishop of Lindisfarne
was confined here 30 years, from 750 to 780. In 933,
it was plundered and totally ruined by the Hanes 3 but
being of great importance in defending the northern
parts against the continual incursions of the Scots, it
was soon after repaired, and made a place of consider¬
able strength. It is said to have been in good repair at
the time of the Conquest, when it was probably put
into the custody of some trusty Norman, and had in all
likelihood some additions made to its works 3 and this
is the more probable, as the present area, contained
within its walls, measures upwards of 80 acres, instead
of three, as when described by Hoveden. About the
year 1095 it was in possession of Robert de Mowbray
earl of Northumberland, who engaging in some treason¬
able practices against William Rufus, that king laid siege
to it and obliged it to surrender. In the next reign it
was entrusted by Henry I. to Eustace Fitz-John, who
was dispossessed of it and his other employments by King
Stephen, that king being jealous of his attachment to
Maud, daughter of Henry I. Irritated at this, Fitz-
John delivered the castle of Alnwick to David king ef
Scotland, and brought to his aid all the forces he could
raise 3 he was, however, afterwards reconciled to King
Stephen, and held the manors of Burg and Knaresbo-
rough in Yorkshire, but never recovered the government
of this castle.
In the 16th of Henry II. some great repairs seem to
have been done here, as in Madox’s history of the ex¬
chequer, under the article of Amercements, it appears
one William, son of Waldef, was fined five marks for
refusing his assistance in the king’s works at Baenburg
castle*
Bara-
BAM
Bam- castle. Its keep is supposed to have been the work of
lovough. this reign.
Edward I. summoned Baliol to meet him here 1296;
and on his refusal invaded Scotland and took him pri¬
soner. Edward II. sheltered Gaveston here 1310. It
was taken hy the Yorkists after the battle of Hexham.
In the reign of Elizabeth, Sir John Forester, warden of
the marches, was governor of it, and made a knight
banneret after the battle of Musselburgh; and his
grandson John obtained a grant of both castle and ma¬
nor from James I. His descendant Thomas forfeited
it in 1715; but his maternal uncle, Nathaniel Crew
bishop of Durham, purchased and bequeathed them to
unconfined charitable uses. The ruins are still con¬
siderable ; but many of them are now filled with sand,
caught up by the winds which rage here with great
violence, and carried to very distant places. The re¬
mains of a great hall are very singular ; it had been
warmed by two fire-places of a vast size, and from the
top of every window ran a flue like that of a chimney,
which reached the summits of the battlements. These
flues seem designed as so many supernumerary chimneys
to give vent to the smoke that the immense fires of
those hospitable times filled the rooms with ; for halls
smoky, but filled with good cheer, were in those days
thought no inconvenience. In the year 1757, the
trustees for Lord Crew’s charity began the repairs of
the keep or great tower j the direction and manage¬
ment being committed to Dr Sharp archdeacon of
Durham, one of their number ; who has made a most
judicious and humane application of his lordship’s ge¬
nerous bequest. The walls are from 9 to 12 feet thick.
The upper parts of the building have been formed into
granaries; whence, in times of scarcity, corn is sold
to the indigent without any distinction at four shillings
per bushel. A hall and some small apartments are re¬
served by the Doctor, who frequently resides here to
see that this noble plan is properly executed.—Among
the variety of distressed who find relief from the judi¬
cious disposition of this charity, are the mariners navi¬
gating this dangerous coast, for whose benefit a con¬
stant watch is kept on the top of the tower ; from
whence signals are given to the fishermen of Holy
Island when any ship is discovered in distress, these
fishermen by their situation being able to put off their
boats when none from the land can get over the break¬
ers. The signals are so regulated as to point out the
particular place where the distressed vessel lies. Be¬
sides which, in every great storm, two men on horse¬
back patrole the adjacent coast from sunset to sunrise,
who, in case of any shipwreck, are to give immediate
notice at the castle. Premiums are likewise paid for
the earliest information of any such misfortune. By
these means the lives of many seamen have been, and
will be, preserved, who would otherwise have perished
for want of timely assistance. Nor does this benevo¬
lent arrangement stop here. The shipwrecked mariner
finds an hospitable reception in this castle ; and is here
maintained for a week or longer, as circumstances may
require. Here, likewise, are store-houses for deposit-
mg the goods which may be saved; instruments and
tackle for weighing and raising the sunken and strand¬
ed vessels ; and, to complete the whole, at the expence
of this fund, the last offices are decently performed
r 359 ]
BAM
to the bodies of such drowned sailors as are cast on Bambuek
shore. Bamff *
BAMBUCK, a country of Africa, of which the' v-—
following account is given by the Abb£ Eaynal, on
the credit ol a modern traveller whom he does not
name. “ In the interior part of Africa, under the
12th or 13th degree of north latitude, there is (says a
modern traveller) a pretty large country, known by
the name of Bambuck. It is not subject to a particular
king; but governed by village lords, called farims.
Ihese hereditary and independent chiefs are all ob¬
liged to unite for the defence of the state, when it is
either attacked as a community, or only in one of its
branches.
“ The territory of this aristocratical state is dry and
barren. It produces neither maize, rice, nor pulse.
J he insupportable heat it is subject to, proceeds in part
from its being surrounded by high mountains, which
prevent the wind from refreshing the air. The climate
is as unwholesome as it is disagreeable: vapours, which
continually -issue from the bowels of a soil replete with
minerals, render this country unfit to live in, especially
to strangers.
It is gold that hath made this miserable country
an object worthy of notice ; gold, which in the eyes of
the covetous man seems to compensate for all the evils
of nature, though in reality it increases them all. This
metal is so common in this country, that it is found
almost indiscriminately everywhere. To obtain it
sometimes it is sufficient to scrape the surface of the
earth, which is clayish, light, and mixed with sand.
When the mine is very rich, it is digged only to the
depth of a few feet, and never deeper j though it has
been observed, that the lower it was digged, the more
gold the soil afforded. The miners are too indolent to
pursue a toil which constantly becomes more tedious,
and too ignorant to perceive the inconveniences it
would be attended with. Their negligence and their
folly are in this instance so extraordinary, that in wash¬
ing the gold, in order to separate it from the earth, they
only preserve the larger pieces: the light parts pas« away
with the water, which flows down an inclined plane.
“ The inhabitants of Bambuck do not work these
mines at all times, nor are they at liberty to do it when
they please. They are obliged to wait till private or
public wants determine the farims to grant this permis¬
sion. When it is proclaimed, all who are able to avail
themselves of this advantage meet at the appointed
place. When their work is finished, a division is made.
Half of the gold goes to the lord, and the remainder is
equally distributed among the labourers. Those who
want gold at any other time than that of the general
digging, search for it in the beds of the rivers, where it
is very common.
“ The French and English have successively been
desirous of appropriating to themselves those real or
imaginary riches. Some thought they could reach this
country by the Niger, others by the Salum. Far from
having succeeded in their attempts of becoming masters
of this country, they have not yet ascertained its ex¬
istence. The unsuccessfulness of past efforts hath re¬
doubled the activity of sanguine minds; sensible and ju¬
dicious merchants have chosen to limit themselves to a
commerce much more important, which is that of slaves.”
BAMFF.l
BAM [ 360 ]
B A M
BAMFF, a shise of Scotland, comprehending part
of Buchan; with the districts of Strathdevron, Boyn,
Enzie, Strathaven, and Balvenie, extends 52 miles in
length, with a breadth varying from 8 to 25, and has
an area of 622 square miles. On the south and east
it is bounded by Aberdeenshire 5 on the north it is
watered by the German ocean 5 on the west it is
bounded by the county of Elgin 5 and on the south-west,
it borders on Inverness-shire. The face of the country
is agreeably diversified with hill and dale, not without
woods, well watered with rivers, and exhibiting many
seats and plantations. The air is pure and keen, the
climate healthy, and the soil fertile, producing plentiful
crops of corn. The district of Buchan, extending north¬
wards from the river Ugie to the sea, and westward as
far as Devron, comprehending a tract of 20 miles in
length and nine in breadth, is more free from hills and
mountains than any other district of the same ex¬
tent in the kingdom of Scotland. It is inhabited chief¬
ly by Lowlanders, and gives the title of earl to the
family of Erskine ; of which family, however, Erskine
of Alar is the chief. The county of Bamff abounds
with the necessaries and comforts of life. The pasture-
grounds yield sheep, cattle, and horses: the arable
lands produce plenty of corn j while the rivers and sea
supply great quantities offish. Various minerals have
been found in different parts of the shire j and a piece
of amber, as large as a horse, was once cast ashore on
the beach. In the mountainous district of Balvenie
on the western side of the shire, watered by the Spey,
there is a noted rock, which produces hones and Avhet-
stones sufficient to supply the whole island. Here are
also veins of alum stone, and springs of alum water.
Strathallan, another district to the north-east of Bal¬
venie, abounds with such plenty of limestone, that
the inhabitants use it as common stone in building their
houses $ and moreover burn a great quantity of it into
lime, which they sell to good advantage in the village
of Keith, on the river Devron. Along this whole
coast, there are ancient Danish monuments, such as
cairns, tumuli, and huge stones standing erect. In
Strathaven, a hilly country, lying along the limpid
river Aven, which falls into the Spey, we meet with
Gordon castle, belonging to the duke of Gordon, the
most princely edifice in the north of Scotland, envi¬
roned with fine gardens and parks well stored with fal¬
low deer. The valued rent is 79,200!. Scots; and in
1811 the real gross rent of lands was 79,396!. 3s. 4d.
as ascertained by the property-tax returns.
. The following is the population of the different pa¬
rishes of this county at different periods :
Parishes,
I Aberlour
Alva
Bamff
Bellie
5 Boharm
Botriphnie
Boyndie
Cullen
Deskford
10 Fordyce
Population Population
iu 1755. in 1790—98.
IOIO 920
Il6l 1070
3000 3510
173° I919
835 1294
953 630
994 1260
900 1214
940 752
321a 3425
Parishes.
Forglen
Gamrie
Grange
Inveraven
15 Inverkiethnie
Keith
Kirkmichael
Marnoch
Mortlich
20 Ordiquhill
Rathven
Ilothiemay
23 St Fergus
Population in 1811,
Supplement.
Population Population
in 1755. in 1790—98.
607 600
2083 3000
I797 1572
2460 2244
571
2683 3057
1288 1276
1894 i960
2374 1918
666 517
2898 3524
1190 1125
1271 1240
36,521 38,487
»,668. See Banffshire,
Bamff, the capital of the shire of that name in
Scotland, is pleasantly situated on the side of a hill, at
the mouth of the river Devron. It has several streets,
of which that with the town-house in it, adorned with
a new spire, is very handsome. This place was erect¬
ed into a borough by virtue of a charter from Robert
II. dated October 7. 1372, endowing it with the same
privileges, and putting it on the same footing, with the
burgh of Aberdeen ; but tradition says it was founded
in the reign of Malcolm Canmore. The number of
inhabitants in 1811 was 2860. The harbour is very
bad, as the entrance of the mouth of the Devron is
very uncertain, being often stopped by the shifting
of the sands, which are continually changing in great
storms $ the pier is therefore placed on the outside.
Much salmon is exported from hence. About Troop-
head some kelp is made j and the adventurers pay the
lord of the manor 50I. per annum for the liberty of col¬
lecting the materials. Near the town is a most magni¬
ficent seat lately built by the earl of Fife. It lies in a
beautiful plain washed by the Devron, the lofty banks
of which, clothed with wood on the opposite side, afford
a delightful contrast to the soft vale beneath. W.
Long. 2. 5. N. Eat. 57. 40.
BAMIER, the name of a plant common in Egypt.
It produces a pyramidal husk, with several compart¬
ments, of the colour of a lemon, and filled with musky
seeds. This husk dressed with meat is a wholesome
food, and has a very agreeable flavour. The Egyp¬
tians make great-use of it in their ragouts.
BAMIYAN, a city of Asia, situated in the pro¬
vince of Zablestan, 10 days journey from Balkh, and
eight from Gazna. It is remarkable only for its
dreadful catastrophe when taken by Jenghiz Khan in
1221. At that time the city belonged to Sultan Jalal-
lodin, the last of the famous Mahmud Gazni’s race.
Jenghiz Khan was at that time about to attack Gazna,
that prince’s capital; but was stopped by the garrison
of Bamiyan, which he had hoped would give him no
trouble. In this, however, he was disappointed. The
people had for a long time expected an attack } and had
therefore ruined the country for five or six leagues
round, while the peasants had carried away the stones,
and every thing that could be of use to the besiegers,
Accordingly,
BAN [3
Bamiyan Accordingly, Jenghiz Khan having erected wooden
|j towers, and planted his engines upon them, was in a
Jkllc' short time obliged to give over his attacks till millstones
and other materials could be brought from a great di¬
stance. The walls of the city were very strong, so that
the engines of the Moguls made but little impression ;
and the garrison making frequent and furious sallies,
cut o(F whole squadrons of their enemies, and frequent¬
ly overthrew their towers and engines. This exceed¬
ingly chagrined Jenghiz Khan ; who one day returning
from a fruitless attack, and hearing of the defeat of
one of his generals by Jalallodin, swore to be revenged
on Bamiyan. This fury cost the life of one of his
grandchildren 5 who exposing himself too much, to
please his grandfather, was slain with an arrow.—At
last, however, by the numberless multitude of the Mo¬
guls,, who continued the attacks without intermission,
the city was taken, after its walls had been ruined in
many places, and the bravest soldiers and officers of the
garrison slain in its defence. The mother of the young
prince who had been killed entering with the troops,
and more deserving the name of a fiend than a woman,
caused the throats of all the inhabitants to be cut, with¬
out excepting one. She even gave orders to rip up the
bellies of all the women with child, that not an infant
might be left alive. In short, to gratify the rage of
this inhuman monster, the buildings were all levelled
with the ground ; the cattle, and every living creature,
destroyed j insomuch that the hardened Moguls them¬
selves gave this place the name of Maubalig, which in
their language signifies the unfortunate city. A strong
castle has since been built out of its ruins.
BAMOl H-Baal, in Ancient Geography, one of
the towns of the tribe of Beuben, which seems also to
have had a temple of Baal on an eminence \ lying east¬
wards, and not far from the river Arnon, and the terri¬
tory of Moab. Jerome calls it Bamoth, a city of the
Amorites, beyond Jordan, in the possession of the sons
of Reuben. Whether the same with that mentioned
Numb. xxi. is doubtful, from the disagreement of in¬
terpreters and yet we may admit it to be the place
of encampment of the Israelites, and of Balaam’s first
station, or where he had the first view of the rear of
the people.
BAMPTON, a town of Devonshire, situated in a
bottom surrounded with high hills, and containing 1232
inhabitants in 1811. W. Long. 4. 2 c. N. Lat. ci. c.
BAN, or Bans. See Bann.
Ban, in commerce, a sort of fine smooth muslin,
which the English import from the East Indies. The
piece is almost a yard broad, and runs about 20 vards
and a half.
BANANA TREE, a species of the musa or plantain.
See Musa, Botanv Index.
BANAREb, or Benares, a town of Plindostan,
greatly celebrated for its sanctity, and being the uni¬
versity of the Indian Bramins. It is seated on the
north side of the river Ganges, and contains nearly
600,000 inhabitants. E. Long. 82. 30. N. Lat. 26. 20.
See Observatory.
. BANBURY, a town of Oxfordshire in England,
situated on the river Charwell, in W. Long. 1. 20. N.
Bat. 52. O. It sends one member to parliament.
BA1NC, or Bench, in Law. denotes a tribunal, or
Vol. III. Part I. *
5r ] BAN
judgment-seat; hence king's banc is the same with the Bane
court of king's bench, and common banc with that of |j
common pleas. Baneock.
BANCI jus, or the privilege of having a bench,
was anciently only allowed to the king’s judges, qui
summam administrant justitiam. Inferior courts, as
courts-baron, hundred courts, &c. were not allowed
that prerogative ; and even at this day the hundred-
court at Freibridge in Norfolk is held under an oak
at Gey-wood 5 and that of Woolfry in Herefordshire,
under an oak near Ashton in that county, called Hun¬
dred oak.
BANC A, an island of Asia in the East Indies, be¬
tween Sumatra and Borneo $ from the first of which it
is separated only by a narrow channel. This island is
famous on account of its tin mines. The prince of the
island, who is also possessor of the territory of Palam-
bang on the river of the same name in Sumatra, where
he has his constant residence, had a contract with the
Dutch, by whose troops his authority and independence
are preserved, for the tin which he compels his subjects
to deliver to him at a low price. Their profit, it is
said, was not less than 150,000!. annually. In conse¬
quence of the perfection which the miners had arrived
at in the reduction of the ore, the tin of this island was
preferred to the tin from Europe at the Canton market.
E. Long. 105. 10. N. Lat. 13. 25.
BANCALIS, a sea-port town on the east coast of
the island of Sumatra, where the Dutch have a settle¬
ment. E. Long. 99. 7. N. Lat. 1. 5.
BANCK, Peter Vander, an engraver of consi¬
derable repute, was born at Paris, and received his in¬
structions in the art from the celebrated Francois de
Poilly. He came over into England with Gascar the
painter, about the year 1674 j ant^ married the sister
of a gentleman of estate in Hertfordshire, named Fo¬
rester. He was a laborious artist: but the pay he re¬
ceived for his plates being by no means adequate to
the time he bestowed upon them, he was reduced to
want; and, retiring from business, sought an asylum
in the house of his brother-in-law. He died at Brad-
field, and was buried iu the church there, in 16745
leaving his widow in possession of the chief part of his
plates, which she disposed of to Brown, a printseller,
to great advantage, and left an easy fortune.——His
chief employment was engraving of portraits ; and, ac¬
cording to \ irtue’s account of this artist published by
the Hon. Mr Walpole, he was the first in England who
engraved them on so large a scale. But even their no-
velty, it seems, added to their merit, could not sufficient¬
ly recommend them to support the artist. Like many
ol Poilly’s disciples, his great merit, according to Mr
Strutt, consists in the laboured neatness and management
of the mechanical part of the art. Freedom, harmony,
and chasteness of outline, are by no means the cha¬
racteristic of his prints. However, though they cannot
rank with the superior productions of Edelink or Nan-
tueil, &c. they have their share of merit 5 and doubt¬
less will be always esteemed in England, as preserving
the best resemblance of many eminent persons who were
living at that time.
BANCO, an Italian word which signifies bank. It
is commonly used to signify the bank of Venice.
BANCOCK, a town of the kingdom of Siam in
L z Asia,
BAN [
Bancock Asia, with a fort, which was once in the possession of
|| the French, but they were driven from it in 1688. E.
Bandage. Long. IOI. 5. N. Lat. 13. 25.
* ' ‘ BAND, in a general sense, some small narrow li¬
gament, wherewith any thing is bound, tied, or fa¬
stened.
Band, in Architecture, a general name for any flat
low member, or moulding, that is broad but not very
deep.
Band of Soldiers, in military affairs, those who fight
under the same flag or ensign.
Band of Pensioners, a company of 120 gentlemen,
who receive a yearly allowance of xool. for attending
on his majesty on solemn occasions.
Band is also the denomination of a military order in
Spain, instituted by Alphonsus XI. king of Castile, for
the younger sons of the nobility ; who, before their ad¬
mission, must serve 10 years at least, either in the army
or at court j and are bound to take up arms for the ca¬
tholic faith against the infidels.
Band, in Surgery. See Bandage.
BANDA islands, the general name of five islands
in the East Indies, belonging to the Dutch. Two of
them are uncultivated, and almost entirely uninhabited j
the other three claim the distinction of being the only
. islands in the world that produce the nutmeg.
If we except this valuable spice, the islands of Banda,
like all the Moluccas, are barren to a dreadful degree.
What they produce in superfluities they want in neces¬
saries. The land will not bring forth any kind of corn ;
and the pith of the sago serves the natives of the coun¬
try instead of bread.
As this food is not sufficient for the Europeans who
settle in the Moluccas, they are allowed to fetch provi¬
sions from Java, Macassar, or the extremely fertile island
of Bali. The company itself carries some merchandise
to Banda.
This is the only settlement in the East Indies that
can be considered as an European colony j because it
is the only one where the Europeans are proprietors of
lands. The company finding that the inhabitants of
Banda were savage, cruel, and treacherous, because
they were impatient under their yoke, resolved to ex¬
terminate them. Their possessions were divided among
the white people, who got slaves from some of the neigh¬
bouring islands to cultivate the lands. These white
people are for the most part Creoles, or malecontents
who have quitted the service of the country. In the
small island of Rosinging, there are likewise several ban¬
ditti, whom the laws have branded with disgrace $ and
young men of abandoned principles, whose families
wanted to get rid of them : so that Banda is called the
island of Correction. The climate is so unhealthy, that
these unhappy men live but a short time. It is on ac¬
count ol the loss of so great a number of hands, that
attempts have been made to transfer the culture of the
nutmeg to Amboyna ; and the company were likewise
probably influenced by two other strong motives of in¬
terest, as their trade would be carried on with less ex¬
pence and greater safety. But the experiments that
have been made have proved unsuccessful, and matters
remain in their former state.
BANDAGE, in Surgery, a fillet, roller, or swath,
used in dressing and binding up wounds, restraining
X
362 ] BAN
dangerous hemorrhagies, and in joining fractured and Bandage
dislocated bones. [|
BANDALEER, or Bandeleer, in military af- Banditti,
fairs, a large leathern belt, thrown over the right '——v—«•
shoulder, and hanging under the left arm ; worn by the
ancient musqueteers, both for the sustaining of their
fire-arms, and for the carriage of their musket charges,
which being put up in little wooden cases, coated with
leather, were hung, to the number of twelve, to each
bandaleer.
BANDELET, or Bandlet, in Architecture, any
little band, or flat moulding, as that which crowns the
Doric architrave.
BANDER CONGO, a small sea-port town in Asia,
seated on the Persian gulf. E. Long. 54. 10. N. Lat.
19. o.
BANDERET, a general, or one of the comman¬
ders in chief of the forces. This appellation is given to
the principal commanders of the troops of the canton
of Bern in Switzerland, where there are four banderets,
who command all the forces of that canton.
BANDEROLE, a little flag, in form of a guidon,
extended more in length than in breadth, used to be
hung out on the masts of vessels, &c.
BANDITTI, from the Italian bandito; persons
proscribed, or, as we call it, outlawed: sometimes
denominated banniti or foris banniti. It is also a
denomination given to highwaymen or robbers who
infest the roads in troops, especially in Italy, France,
and Sicily. Mr Brydone, in his tour through Sicily,
informs us, that in the eastern part, called ValDemoni
from the devils that are supposed to inhabit Mount
./Etna, it has ever been found altogether impracticable
to extirpate the banditti j there being numberless ca¬
verns and subterraneous passages round that mountain,
where no troops could possibly pursue them : besides,
they are known to be perfectly determined and reso¬
lute, never failing to take a dreadful revenge on all
who have offended them. Hence the prince of Villa
Franca has embraced it, not only as the safest, but
likewise as the wisesLand most political scheme, to be¬
come their declared patron and protector: and such of
them as think proper to leave the mountains and forests,
though perhaps only for a time, are sure to meet with
good encouragement and a certain protection in his ser¬
vice, where they enjoy the most unbounded confidence,
which, in no instance, they have ever yet been found
to make an improper or a dishonest use of. They are
clothed in the prince’s livery, yellow and green, with
silver lace j and wear likewise a badge of their honour¬
able order, which entitles them to universal fear and
respect from the people.
In some circumstances, these banditti are the most
respectable people of the island, and have by much
the highest and most romantic notions of what they
call their point of honour. However criminal they
may be with regard to society in general } yet with
respect to one another, and to every person to whom
they have once professed it, they have ever maintained
the most unshaken fidelity. The magistrates have of¬
ten been obliged to protect them, and pay them
court, as they are known to be perfectly determined
and desperate, and so extremely vindictive, that they
will certainly put any person to death that has ever
given
BAN. [ ^
Banditti given them just cause of provocation. On the other
|] hand, it never was known that any person who had put
Bangor,. himself under their protection, and showed that he had
r confidence in them, had cause to repent of it, or was
injured by any of them in the most minute trifle j but,
on the contrary, they will protect him from impositions
of every kind, and scorn to go halves with the landlord,
like most other conductors and travelling servants, and
will defend him with their lives if there is occasion.
Those of their number who have thus enlisted them¬
selves in the service of society, are known and respec¬
ted by the other banditti all over the island j and the
persons of those they accompany are ever held sacred.
For these reasons, most travellers choose to hire a
couple of them from town to town : and may thus tra¬
vel over the whole island in safety.
BANDORA, the capital of the island of Salset, on
the west coast of the peninsula on this side the Ganges.
It is separated from the island of Bombay by a narrow
channel, and subject to the Portuguese. E. Long. 72.
30. N. Lat. 19. o.
BANDORE, the name of a musical instrument with
strings, resembling a lute, and said to be invented in
the fourth year of Queen Elizabeth, by John Rose, a
citizen of London.
BANDY-LEGS, from the French bander, ‘ to bend,*
a distortion of the legs, when they turn either inward
or outward on either side ; arising from some defect
in the birth, or imprudence in the nurse, endeavour¬
ing to make a child stand or walk before his legs were
strong enough to sustain the weight of his body. See
Valgus.
BANE (from the Saxon bana, a murderer), signi¬
fies destruction or overthrow. Thus, “ I will be the
bane of such a man,” is a common saying. So, when
a person receives a mortal injury by anything, We say,
“ it was his bane and he who is the cause of ano¬
ther man’s death, is said to be le bane, i. e. a malefac¬
tor.
BANFF. See Bamff.
BANGHIR, a town of Ireland, in King’s county in
the province of Leinster, seated on the river Shannon.
W. Long. 8. 5. N. Lat. 53. 10.
BANGLE ears, an imperfection in a horse, reme¬
died in the following manner. Place his ears in such a
manner as you would have them stand ; bind them
with two little boards so fast that they cannot stir, and
then clip away all the empty wrinkled skin close by the
head.
BANGIUS, Thomas, a Danish divine, and an ele¬
gant Latin writer on the origin of languages and a va¬
riety of other subjects. He died in 1661.
BANGOR, an episcopal city of Caernarvonshire in
North Wales. In ancient times it was so considerable,
that it was called Bangor the Greaty and defended by
a strong castle ; but it is now a very mean place; the
principal buildings being the cathedral, the bishop’s
palace, and free school. The see is of very great
antiquity, and its founder unknown. The church is
dedicated to St Daniel, who was bishop here about the
year 516 ; but for near 500 years afterwards, there is
no certainty of the names of his successors. Owen
Glendower greatly defaced the cathedral church ; but
Bishop Dean repaired it again. This see met a still
more cruel ravager than Owen Glendower, in the per-
63 ] BAN
son of Bishop Bulkeley ; who not only alienated many b
of the lands belonging to it, but even sold the bells of Ua
the church. This diocese contains the whole of Caer-
narvonshire except three parishes, the shire of Anglesey,
and part of the shires of Denbigh, Merioneth, and
Montgomery ; in which are 107 parishes, whereof 36
are, impropriated. It has three archdeaconries, viz.
Bangor, Anglesey, and Merioneth ; of which the two
first are commonly annexed to the bishopric for its bet¬
ter support. This see is valued in the king’s books at
131I. 16s. 4d. and is computed to be worth annually
120ol. The tenths of the clergy are 151I. 143. 3^di
To the cathedral there belong a bishop, a dean, an
archdeacon, a treasurer, and two prebendaries, endow¬
ed ; a precentor, a chancellor, and three canons, not
endowed ; three vicars choral, an organist, lay-clerks^
choristers, and two officers. W. Long. 4. 10. N. Lat.
53 • 20-
Bangor, a town of Ireland, in the county of Dowri
and province of Ulster. It is seated on the south shore
of the bay of Garrick Fergus, opposite to the town of
that name ; and has a considerable fishery for soles,
turbot, &c. W. Long. 6. N. Lat. 54. 42.
BANGUE, a species of opiate, in great use through¬
out the east, for drowning cares and inspiring joy.—
This by the Persians is called beng; by the Arabs,
essrar, corruptly asseral, and assarth; by the Turks,
bengitie, and vulgarly called mastack; by the Euro¬
pean naturalists, bangne or bang.-*-\t is the leaf of a
kind of wild hemp, growing in the countries of the
Levant; it differs little, either as to leaf or seed, from
our hemp, except in size. Some have mistaken it for
a species of althaja.
There ar.e divers manners of preparing it, in different
countries. Olearius describes the method used in Pei’-
sia. Mr Sale tells us, that, among the Arabs, the leaf
is made into pills, or conserves. But the most distinct
account is that given by Alexander Maurocordato,
counsellor and physician of the Ottoman Porte, in a
letter to Wedelius. According to this author, bangue
is made of the leaves of wild hemp, dried in the shade,
then ground to powder; put into a pot wherein butter
has been kept; set in an oven till it begin to tonify :
then taken out, and pulverized again ; thus to be used
occasionally, as much at a time as will lie on the point
of a knife. Such is the Turkish bangue.—The effects
of this drug are, To confound the understanding ; set
the imagination loose ; induce a kind of folly and forget¬
fulness, wherein all cares are lost, and joy and gaiety
take place thereof. Bangue, in reality, is a succeda-
neumto wine, and obtains in those countries where Ma¬
hometanism is established ; which prohibiting the use of
that liquor absolutely, the poor Mussulmans are forced
to have recourse to succedanea, to rouse their spirits.
The principal are opium and this bangue. As to the
opinion among Europeans, that the Turks prepare
themselves for battle by a dose of bangue, which rouses
their courage, and drives them, with eagerness, to cer¬
tain death ; Dr Maurocordato assures us, that it is a po¬
pular error: the Turks think they are then going assu¬
redly to receive the crown of martyrdom ; and would
not, for any consideration, lose the merit of it, which
they would do, by eating the bangue, as being held un¬
lawful by their apostle, among other things which in¬
toxicate.
Z z ^2 BANIALUCIX,
Bam!<l«ch
Bam.ins.
* Discov.
Relig. Ba¬
nian.
BAN [ 364 ] BA N
BANXALUCH, or Bagnaluch, a city of Euro¬
pean Turkey, the capital of Bosnia, upon the frontiers
of Dalmatia, near the river Setina. E. Long. 18. 2C.
N. Lat. 44. 20.
BANIAN-tree. See Ficus, Botany Index.
BANIANS, a religious sect in the empire of the
Mogul, who believe a metempsychosis j and will there¬
fore eat no living creature, nor kill even noxious ani¬
mals, but endeavour to release them when in the hands
of others.—The name of Banian is used with some
diversity, which has occasioned much confusion, and
many mistakes. Sometimes it is taken in a less proper
sense, and extended to all the idolaters of India, as
contradistinguished from the Mahometans : in which
sense, Banians includes the Bramins and other casts.
Banians, in a more proper sense, is restrained to a pe¬
culiar cast, or tribe of Indians, whose office or pro¬
fession is trade and merchandise : in which sense, Ba¬
nians stand contradistinguished from Bramins, Cutlery,
and Wyse, the three other casts into which the Indians
are divided. The four casts are absolutely separate as
to occupation, relation, marriage, &c. though all of
the same religion ; which is more properly denominated
the religion of the Bramins, who make the ecclesiastical
tribe, than of the Banians, who make the mercantile.
The proper Banians are called, in the Shaster, or book
of their law, by the name of Shuddery; under which
are comprehended ail who live after the manner of
merchants, or that deal and transact for others, as bro¬
kers } exclusive of the mechanics or artificers, who
make another cast, called Wyse. These Banians have
no peculiar sect or religion, unless it be, that two of
the eight general precepts given by their legislator
Brama to the Indian nation, are, on account of the
profession of the Banians, supposed more immediately
to relate to them, viz. those which enjoin veracity in
their word and dealings, and avoiding all practices of
circumvention in buying and selling. Some of the
Banians, quitting their profession, and retiring from
the world, commence religious, assume a peculiar habit,
and devote themselves more immediately to God, under
the denomination of Vertea. Ihese, though, they do not
hereby change their cast, are commonly reckoned as
bramins of a more devout kind ; much as monks in the
Eomish church, though frequently not in orders, are
reputed as a more sacred order than the regular clergy.
The name Banian imports as much, in the Bramin lan¬
guage (wherein their law is written), as a people in¬
nocent and harmless •, void of all guile ; so gentle,
.hat they cannot endure to see either a fly or a worm
injured j and who, when struck, will patiently bear it,
without resisting or returning the blow.—Their mien
and appearance is described by Lord*, in terms a little
precise, but very significant: “ A people presented
themselves to my eyes clothed in linen garments, some¬
what low descending j of a gesture and garb, as I may
say, maidenly, and well nigh effeminate *, of a counte¬
nance shy and somewhat estranged.” Gemelli Carer!
divides the Banians into 22 tribes, all distinct, and not
allowed re marry with each other. Lord assures us
tuey are divided into 82 casts or tribes, correspondent
to the casts or divisions of the Bramins or priests, un-
l.cl "^10Se discipline they are as to religious matters ;
though the generality of the Banians choose to be un¬
der the direction of the two Bramin tribes, the Visal-
nagranaugers and Vulnagranaugers.
The Banians are the great factors, by whom most
of the trade of India is managed; in this respect,
comparable to the Jews and Armenians, and not be¬
hind either, in point of skill and experience, in what¬
ever relates to commerce. Nothing is bought but by
their mediation. They seem to claim a kind of jus
divinum to the administration of the traffic of the na¬
tion, grounded on their sacred books, as the Bramins
do that of religion. They are dispersed, for this
purpose, through all parts of Asia, and abound in
Persia, particularly at Ispahan and Gombroon, where
many of them are extremely rich, yet not above act¬
ing as brokers, where a penny is to be got. The chief
agents of the English, Dutch, and French East India
Companies, are of this nation : they are faithful, and
are generally trusted with the cash of those companies
in their keeping. They act also as bankers, and can
give bills of exchange for most cities in the East In¬
dies. Their form of contract in buying and selling is
remarkable ; being done without words, in the pro-
foundest silence, only by touching each other’s fingers:
the buyer loosing his pamerin or girdle, spreads it
on his knee, and both he and the seller having their
hands underneath, by the intercourse of the fingers,
mark the price of pounds, shillings, &c. demanded, of¬
fered, and at length agreed on. When the seller takes
the buyer’s whole hand, it denotes a thousand ; and, as
many times as he squeezes it, as many thousand pagods,
or rupees, accdrding to the species in question, are de¬
manded ; when he only takes the five fingers, it de¬
notes five hundred ; and when only one, one hundred :
taking only half a finger, to the second joint, denotes
fifty ; the small end of the finger, to the first joint,
stands for ten.
BANIE, Anthony, licentiate in laws, member of
the academy of inscriptions and belles lettres, an eccle¬
siastic of the diocese of Clermont in Auvergne ; died in
November 174D aged 69. He is principally celebra¬
ted for his translation of the Metamorphoses of Ovid,
with historical remarks and explanations ; which was
published in I732» at Amsterdam, in folio, finely orna¬
mented with copperplates, by Picart; and reprinted at
Paris I73^» two vo^s 4t°: and for his Mythology, or
ables of the Ancients, explained by history; a work
full of the most important information, which was trans¬
lated into English, and printed at London in 1741, in
4 vols 8vo.
BANISHMENT, exile, among us is of two kinds :
the one voluntary, and upon oath ; the other by com¬
pulsion, for some offence or crime. The former, proper¬
ly called abjuration, is now ceased ; the latter is chiefly
enjoined by judgment of parliament. Yet outlawing
and transportation may also be considered as species of
exile.
BANISTER, John, a physician and surgeon in the
reign of Queen Elizabeth, was educated at Oxford,
where, says Anthony Wood, he studied logicals for a
time ; but afterwards applied himself solely to physic
and surgery. In 1573 he took the degree of bachelor
of physic ; and, obtaining a license from the univer¬
sity to practise, settled at Nottingham, where he lived
many years in great repute, and wrote several medical
treatises.
Banians
Banister.
Ji
Is
6
Si
2
B' A N
l 3^5 ]
B AN
, Compa-
y-banks.
Banister treatises. His works were collected and published in
il 1633, 4to.
BANiSTERIA. See Botany Index.
BANK, in Commerce, a common repository, where
many persons agree to keep their money, to be al¬
ways ready at their cal! or direction : or, certain so¬
cieties or communities, who take the charge of other
people’s money, either to improve it, or to keep it se¬
cure.
The first institution of banks was in Italy, where
the Lombard Jews kept benches in the market-places
for the exchange of money and bills j and banco being
the Italian name for bench, banks took their title from
this word.
Banks are of two principal kinds. 1. One sort is
either public, consisting of a company of moneyed men,
who being duly established, and incorporated by the
laws of their country, agree to deposite a considerable
fund, or joint stock, to be employed for the use of the
society, as in lending money upon good security, buying
and selling bullion, discounting bills of exchange, &c. :
ox private, i. e. set up by private persons, or partner¬
ships, who deal in the same way as the former upon
their own single stock and credit,
ank of The greatest bank of circulation in Europe is the
uglaad; Rank oj England. The company was incorporated bv
ishment Par'iament >n the fifth and sixth years of King William
filiations, and Queen Mary, by the name of The Governors and
iportance, Company of the Bank of England: in consideration of
the loan of 1,200,000!. granted to the government j
for which the subscribers received almost 8 per cent.
By this charter, the company are not to borrow under
their common seal, unless by act of parliament j they
are not to trade, or suffer any person in trust for them
to trade, in any goods or merchandise 5 but they may
deal in bills of exchange, in buying or selling bullion,
and foreign gold and silver coin, &c.
By an act of parliament passed in the 8th and 9th
years of William III. they were empowered to enlarge
their capital stock to 2,201,171k ios. It was then also
enacted, that bank-stock should be a personal, and not
a real estate ; that no contract either in word or writ¬
ing for buying or selling bank-stock, should be good
in law, unless registered in the books of the bank within
7 days, and the stock transferred in 14 days ; and that
it shall be felony, without benefit of clergy, to counter¬
feit the common seal of the bank, or any sealed bank-
bill, or any bank-note, or to alter or erase such bills or
notes. By another act passed in the 7th of Queen
Anne, the company were empowered to augment their
capital to 4,402,343!. and they then advanced 400,000k
more to the government j and in 1714, they advanced
another loan of 1,500,000k
In the third year of the reign of King George I.
the interest of their capital stock was reduced to 5 per
cent, when the bank agreed to deliver up as many ex¬
chequer bills as amounted to 2,000,000k and to ac¬
cept an annuity of x00,000k and it was declared law¬
ful for the bank to call from their members, in propor¬
tion to their interests in the capital stock, such sums of
money as in a general court should be found necessary.
If any member should neglect to pay his share of the
moneys so called for, at the time appointed by notice
in the London Gazette, and fixed upon the Royal Ex¬
change, it should be lawful for the bank, not only to
stop the dividend of such member, and to apply it to¬
wards payment of the money in question, but also to
stop the transfers of the share of such defaulter, and to
charge him with an interest of 5 per cent, per annum,
for the money so omitted to be paid \ and if the prin¬
cipal and interest should be three months unpaid, the
bank should then have power to sell so much of the
stock belonging to the defaulter as would satisfy the
same. After this, the bank reduced the interest of the.
2,000,000k lent to the government, from 5 to 4 per
cent, and purchased several other annuities, which were
afterwards redeemed by the government, and the na¬
tional debt due to the bank reduced to 1,600,000k
But in 1742, the company engaged to supply the go¬
vernment with 1,600,000k at 3 per cent, which is now
called the 3 per cent, annuities j so that the govern¬
ment was now indebted to the company 3,200,000k
the one half carrying 4, and the other 3 per cent.
In the year 1746) the company agreed that the sum
of 986,800k due to them in the exchequer bills unsa¬
tisfied, on the duties for licenses to sell spirituous li¬
quors by retail, should be cancelled, and in lieu thereof
to accept of an annuity of 39,442k the interest of
that sum at 4 per cent. The company also agreed to
advance the further sum of 1,000,000k into the exche¬
quer, upon the credit of the duties arising by the malt
and land tax at 4 per cent, for exchequer bills to be
issued for that purpose ; in consideration of which, the
company were enabled to augment their capital with
986,800k the interest of which, as well as that of the
other annuities, was reduced to 34 per cent, till the
27th of December 1757, and from that time to carry
only 3 per cent.
And in order to enable them to circulate the said
exchequer bills, they established what is now called
bank circulation. The nature of which may be under¬
stood from what follows.
The company of the bank are obliged to keep cash
sufficient not only to answer the common, but also any
extraordinary demand that may be made upon them ;
and whatever money they have by them, over and above
the sum supposed necessary for these purposes, they em¬
ploy in what may be called the trade of the company $
that is to say, in discounting bills of exchange, in buy¬
ing ol gold and silver, and in government securities,
&c. But when the bank entered into the above-men¬
tioned contract, as they did not keep unemployed a <
larger sum of money than what they deemed necessary
to answer their ordinary and extraordinary demands,
they could not conveniently take out of their current
cash so large a sum as a million, with which they were
obliged to furnish the government, without either les¬
sening that sum they employed in discounting, buying
gold and silver, &c. (which would have been very dis¬
advantageous to them), or inventing some method that
should answer all the purposes of keeping the million
in cash. The method which they chose, and which
fully answers their end, was as-follows :
They opened a subscription, which they renew an¬
nually, for a million of money 5 wherein the subscribers
advance 10 per cent, and enter into a contract to pay
the remainder, or any part thereof, whenever the bank
shall call upon them, under penalty of forfeiting the
10 percent, so advanced: in consideration of which,
the bank pays the subscribers 4 per cent, interest for
Bank.
BAN [ 366
Bank, the money paid in, and £ per cent, for the whole sum
l-—y-—they agree to furnish 5 and in case a call shall be made
upon them for the whole, or any part thereof, the bank
further agrees to pay them at the rate of 5 per cent,
per annum for such sum till they repay it, which they
are under an obligation to do at the end of the year.
By this means the bank obtains all the purposes of
keeping a million of money by them ; and though the
subscribers, if no call is made upon them (which is in
general the case), receive 64- per cent, for the money
they advance, yet the company gains the sum ot
23,500!. per annum by the contract j as will appear
by the following account:
The bank receives from the government
for the advance of a million - L.30,OOO
The bank pays the subscribers who advance
loo,oool. and engage to pay (when called for)
900,000!. more . - _ 6,500
The clear gain to the bank therefore is 23,500
This is the state of the case, provided the company
should make no call on the subscribers *, which they
will be very unwilling to do, because it would not on¬
ly lessen their profit, but affect the public credit in ge¬
neral.
Bank-stock may not improperly be called a trading
stock, since with this they deal very largely in foreign
gold and silver, in discounting bills of exchange, &c.
Besides which, they are allowed by the government
very considerable sums annually for the management of
the annuities paid at their office. All which advan¬
tages render a share in their stock very valuable 5
though it is not equal in value to the East India stock.
The company make dividends of the profits half year¬
ly, ol which notice is publicly given 5 when those who
have occasion for their money may readily receive it ;
but private persons, if they judge convenient, are per¬
mitted to continue their funds, and to have their inte¬
rest added to the principal.
T.his company is under the direction of a governor,
deputy-governor, and 24 directors, who are annually
elected by the general court, in the same manner as in
the East India Company. Thirteen, or more, com¬
pose a court of directors for managing the affairs of the
company. The officers of this company are very nu¬
merous.
The stability of the bank of England is equal to that
of the British government. All that it has advanced
to the public must be lost before its creditors can sus¬
tain any loss. No other banking company in England
can be established by act of parliament, or can consist
of more than six members. It acts, not only as an or¬
dinary bank, but (as we have already seen) as a great
engine of state 5 receiving and paying the greater part
ol the annuities which are due to the creditors of the
public ; circulating exchequer bills j and advancing to
government the annual amount of the land and malt
taxes, which are frequently not paid up till some years
thereafter. It likewise has, upon several different oc¬
casions, supported the credit of the principal houses,
not only in England, but of Hamburgh and Holland,
kpon one occasion it is said to have advanced for this
purpose, in one week, about i,6qo,ooo1. a great part
of it m bullion.
] BAN
In Scotland there are two public banks, both at E- Bank
dinburgh. The one, called The Bank of Scotland, was v—
established by act of parliament in 1695; the other, Scolch
called The Royal Bank, by royal charter in 1727. blfoand”*
Within these 30 years there have also been erected prjvate
private banking companies in almost every considerable
town, and even in some villages. Hence the business
of the country is almost entirely carried on by paper-
currency, i. e. by the notes of those different banking
companies j with which purchases and payments of all
kinds are commonly made. Silver very seldom appears,
except in the change of a twenty-shilling bank-note,
and gold still seldomer. But though the conduct of all
those different companies has not been unexceptionable,
and has accordingly required an act of parliament to
regulate it 5 the country, notwithstanding, has evident¬
ly derived great benefit from their trade. It has been
asserted, that the trade of the city of Glasgow doubled
in about 15 years after the first erection of the banks
there j and that the trade of Scotland has more than
quadrupled since the first erection of the two public
banks at Edinburgh. Whether the trade, either of
Scotland in general, or of the city of Glasgow in par¬
ticular, has really increased in so great a proportion,
during so short a period, we do not pretend to know.
If either of them has increased in this proportion, it
seems to be an effect too great to be accounted for by
the sole operation of this cause. That the trade and
industry of Scotland, however, have increased very con¬
siderably during this period, and that the banks have
contributed a good deal to this increase, cannot be
doubted.
The value of the silver money which circulated in SmxtKt
Scotland before the Union in 1707, and which imme-TVealthof
diately after it was brought into the bank of Scotland ^T<l^ons>
in order to be recoined, amounted to 411,117!. 10s. 9d.®00kJ/'
sterling. No account has been got of the gold coin : P
but it appears from the ancient accounts of the mint
ol Scotland, that the value of the gold annually coined
somewhat exceeded that of the silver. There were a
good many people too upon this occasion, who, from a
diffidence of repayment, did not bring their silver into
the bank of Scotland ; and there was, besides, some
English coin, which was not called in. The whole va¬
lue of the gold and silver, therefore, which circulated
in Scotland before the Union, cannot be estimated at
less than a million sterling. It seems to have consti¬
tuted almost the whole circulation of that country ;
for though the circulation of the bank of Scotland,
which had then no rival, was considerable, it seems to
have made but a very small part of the whole. In the
present times, the whole circulation of Scotland cannot
be estimated at less than two millions, of which that
part which consists of gold and silver most probably
does not amount to half a million. But though the cir¬
culating gold and silver of Scotland have suffered so
great a diminution during this period, its real riches
and prosperity do not appear to have sufl’ei*ed any. Its
agriculture, manufactures, and trade, on the contrary,
the annual produce of its land and labour, have evi¬
dently been augmented.
It is chiefly by discounting bills of exchange, that Discoant-
is, by advancing money upon them before they are ingot
due, that the greater part of banks and bankers issue Mis-
their promissory notes. They deduct always upon what¬
ever
BAN
Bank. ever sum they advance, the legal Ii)terest till the hill
— shall become due. The payment of the bill, when it
becomes due, replaces to the bank the value of what
had been advanced, together with a clear profit of the
interest. The banker, who advances to the merchant
whose bill he discounts not gold and silver, but his own
promissory notes, has the advantage of being able to
discount to a greater amount, by the whole value of
his promissory notes, which he finds by experience are
commonly in circulation. He is thereby enabled to
make his clear gain of interest on so much larger a
sum.
The commerce of Scotland, which at present is not
very great, was still more inconsiderable when the two
first banking companies were established j and those
companies would have had but little trade, had they
confined their business to the discounting of bills of ex¬
change. They invented, therefore, another method of
issuing their promissory notes, by granting what they
uh-ac- called cas/i accounts ; that is, by giving credit to the
mnts. extent of a certain sum (2000I. or 3000I. for example),
to any individual who could procure two persons of un¬
doubted credit and good landed estate to become surety
for him, that whatever money should be advanced to
him within the sum for which the credit had been given
should be repaid upon demand, together with the legal
interest. Credits of this kind are commonly granted by
banks and bankers in all different parts of the world.
But the easy terms on which the Scots banking com¬
panies accept of repayment, are peculiar to them, and
Ivan* have perhaps been the principal cause, both of the great
jesfrom trade of those companies and of the benefit which the
ese country has received from it.
Whoever has a credit of this kind with one of those
companies, and borrows 1000I. upon it, for example,
may repay this sum piecemeal, by 20I. and 30I. at a
time, the company discounting a proportional part of
the interest of the great sum from the day on which
each of those small sums is paid in, till the whole be in
this manner repaid. All merchants, therefore, and
almost all men of business, find it convenient to keep
the such cash-accounts with them ; and are thereby inte-
iks,and rested to promote the trade of those companies, by rea¬
dily receiving their notes in all payments, and by en¬
couraging all those with whom they have any influ-
ence to do the same. The banks, when their custo¬
mers apply to them for money, generally advance it
to them in their own promissory notes. These the mer¬
chants pay away to the manufacturers for goods, the
manufacturers to the farmers for materials and provi¬
sions, the farmers to their landlords for rent, the land¬
lords repay them to the merchants for the convenien¬
ces and luxuries with which they supply them, and the
merchants again return them to the banks in order to
balance their cash-accounts, or to replace what they
may have borrowed of them ; and thus almost the
whole money business of the country is transacted by
means of them. Hence the great trade of those com¬
panies.
By means of those cash-accounts, every merchant
can, without imprudence, carry on a greater trade
j® *ban he otherwise could do. If there are two mer¬
chants, one in London, and the other in Edinburgh,
who employ equal stocks in tire same branch of trade!,
BAN
the Edinburgh merchant can, without imprudence, j-auk.
carry on a greater trade, and give employment to a ' — -v—
greater number ol people, than the London merchant.
The London merchant must always keep by him a con¬
siderable sum of money, either in his own coffers, or in
those of his banker (who gives him no interest for it),
in order to answer the demands continually coming
upon him for payment of the goods which he purchases
upon credit. Let the ordinary amount of this sum be
supposed 500I. Ihe value of the goods in his ware¬
house must always he less by 500I. than it would have
been, had be not been obliged to keep such a sum un¬
employed. Let us suppose that he generally disposes
of his whole stock ujjon hand, or of goods to the va¬
lue of his whole stock upon band, once in the year.
By being obliged to keep such a great sum unemploy¬
ed, he must sell in a year 500I. worth less goods than
he might otherwise have done. His annual profits must
be less by all that be could have made by the sale of
500I. worth more goods ; and the number of people
employed in preparing bis goods for the market, must
be less by all those that 500I. more stock could have
employed. The merchant in Edinburgh, on the other
hand, keeps no money unemployed for answering such
occasional demands. When they actually come upon
him, he satisfies them from his cash-account with the
bank, and gradually replaces the sum borrowed with
the money or paper which comes in from the occasion¬
al sales of his goods. With the same stock, there¬
fore, he can, without imprudence, have at all times in
his warehouse a larger quantity of goods than the Lon¬
don merchant •, and can thereby both make a greater
profit himself, and give constant employment to a
greater number of industrious people who prepare those
goods for the market. Hence the great benefit which ,
the country has derived from this trade.
The late multiplication of banking companies in
both parts of the united kingdom, an event by which
many people have been much alarmed, instead of di¬
minishing, increases the security of the public. It
obliges all of them to be more circumspect in their con¬
duct, and, by not extending their currency beyond its
due proportion to their cash, to guard themselves a-
gainst those malicious runs which the rivalsbip of so
many competitors is always ready to bring upon them.
It restrains the circulation of each particular company
within a narrower circle, and reduces their circulating
notes to a smaller number. By dividing the whole cir¬
culation into a greater number of parts, the failure of
any one company, an accident which, in the course of
things, must sometimes happen, becomes of less conse¬
quence to the public. This free competition too obliges
all bankers to be more liberal in their dealings with their
customers, lest, their rivals should carry them away. In
general, if any branch of trade, or any division of labour,
be advantageous to the public, the freer and more ge¬
neral the competition, it will always be the more so.
See further, the article Paper-Mo7iey.
2. The other kind of banks consist of such as are in- jj
stituted wholly on the public account, and are called of deposit.
Banks of Deposit ; the nature of which not being gene¬
rally understood, the following particular explanation
may not be unacceptable.
The currency of a great state, such as Britain, ge¬
nerally.
[ 367 ]
BAN' [ 3^8 ] BAN
Banff, nerally consists almost entirely of its own coin. Should
'*> v——^ this currency, therefore, be at any time worn, dipt, or
Smith s otherwise degraded below its standard value, the state
Nutio^y by a reformation of its coin can effectually re-establish
isook IV. its currency. But the currency of a small state, such
chap. iii. as Genoa or Hamburgh, can seldom consist altogether
in its own coin, but must be made up, in a great mea¬
sure, of the coins of all the neighbouring states with
which its inhabitants have a continual intercourse.
Such a state, therefore, by reforming its coin, will not
always be able to reform its currency. If foreign bills
of exchange are paid in this cfurrency, the uncertain
value of any su’m, of what is in its own nature so un¬
certain, must render the exchange always very much
against such a state, its currency being, in all foreign
States, necessarily valued below even what it is worth.
In order to remedy the inconvenience to which this
disadvantageous exchange must have subjected their
merchants, such small states, when they began to at¬
tend to the interest of trade, have frequently enacted,
that foreign bills of exchange of a certain value should
be paid, not in common currency, but by an order up¬
on, or by a transfer in, the books of a certain bank,
established upon the credit and under the protection of
the state j this bank being always obliged to pay, in
good and true money, exactly according to the stand¬
ard of the state. The banks of Venice, Genoa, Am¬
sterdam, Plamburgb, and Nuremberg, seem to have
been all originally established with this view, though
.some of them may have afterwards been made subser¬
vient to other purposes*. The money of such banks,
being better than the common currency of the coun¬
try, necessarily bore an agio, which was greater or
smaller, according as the currency was supposed to be
more or less degraded below the standard of the state.
The agio of the bank of Hamburgh, for example,
which is said to he commonly about 14 per cent, is
the supposed difl’erence between the good standard mo¬
ney of the state, and the dipt, worn, and diminished
currency poured into it from all the neighbouring
states.
Before 1609, the great quantity of dipt and worn
foreign coin, which the extensive trade of Amsterdam
brought from all parts of Europe, reduced the value of
its currency about 9 per cent,, below that of good mo¬
ney fresh from the mint. Such money no sooner ap¬
peared, than it was melted down or cai’ried aw'ay, as
it always is in such circumstances. The merchants,
with plenty of currency, could not always find a suffi¬
cient quantity of good money to pay their bills of ex¬
change •, and the value of those bills, in spite of seve¬
ral regulations which were made to prevent it, became
Bank of in a great measure uncertain. In order to remedy
Amster- these inconveniences, a bank was established in 1609
of themost Un^er t*ie guarantee of the city. The bank received
famous. * foreign coin, and the light and worn coin of the
Its institu- country, at its real and intrinsic value in the good
tion, regu- standard mopey of the country, deducting only so much
as was necessary for defraying the expence of coinage,
’ xc’ and other necessary expence of management. For the
value which remained after this small deduction was
made, it gave a credit in its books. This credit was
called bank-money; which, a4 it represented money ex¬
actly according to the standard of the mint, was always
of the same real value, and intrinsically worth more
than current money. It was at the same time enacted,
that all bills drawn upon or negotiated at Amsterdam
of the value of 600 guilders and upwards should be paid
in bank-money, which at once took away all uncer¬
tainty in the value of those bills. Every merchant, in
consequence of this regulation, was obliged to keep an
account with the bank in order to pay his foreign bills
of exchange, which necessarily occasioned a certain de¬
mand for bank-money.,
Bank-money, over and above both its intrinsic su¬
periority to currency, and the additional value which
this demand necessarily gives it, has likewise some
other advantages. It is secure from fire, robbery, and
other accidents ; the city of Amsterdam is bound for
it •, it can be paid away by a simple transfer, without
the trouble of counting, or the risk of transporting it
from one place to another. In consequence of those
different advantages, it seems from the beginning to
have born an agio ; and it is generally believed that
all the money originally deposited in the bank was al¬
lowed to remain there, nobody caring to demand pay¬
ment of a debt which he could sell for a premium in the
market. Besides, this money could not be brought from
these coffers, as it will appear by and by, without pre¬
viously paying for the keeping.
Those deposits of coin, or which the bank was bound
to restore in coin^ constituted the original capital of the
bank, or the whole value of what was represented by
what is called bank-money. At present they are sup¬
posed to constitute but a very small part of it. In or¬
der to facilitate the trade in bullion, the bank has
been for these many years in the practice of giving
credit in its books upon deposits of gold and silver bul¬
lion. The credit is generally about 5 per cent, below
the mint price of such bullion. The bank grants at
the same time what is called a recipice or receipt, en¬
titling the person who makes the deposit, or the bear¬
er, to take out the bullion again at any time within
six months, upon re-transferring to the bank a quan¬
tity of bank-money equal to that for which credit had
been given in its books when the deposit was made, and
upon paying ^ per cent, for the keeping if the deposit
was in silver, and 4 per cent, if it was in gold ; but at
the same time declaring, that in default of such pay¬
ment, and upon the expiration of this term, the depo¬
sit should belong to the bank at the price at which it
had been received, or for which credit had been given
in the transfer books. What is thus paid for the keep¬
ing of the deposit may be considered as a sort of ware-
house-rent j and why this warehouse-rent should be so
much dearer for gold than for silver, several different
reasons have been assigned. The fineness of gold, it
has been said, is more difficult to be ascertained than
that of silver. Frauds are more easily practised, and
occasion a greater loss in the more precious metal.
Silver, besides, being the standard metal, the state, it
has been said, wishes to encourage more the making of
deposits of silver than those of gold.
Deposits of bullion are most commonly made when
the price is somewhat lower than ordinary $ and they
are taken out again when it happens to rise. In Hol¬
land the market price of bullion is generally above the
mint price, for the same reason that it was so in Eng¬
land before the late reformation of the gold coin. The
difference is said to be commonly from about six to
sixteen
ban r 369 ] BAN
Bank, sixteen stivers upon the mark, or eight ounces of silver
—Y—of eleven parts fine and one part alloy. The bank-
price, or the credit which the bank gives for deposits
of such silver (when made in foreign coin, of which the
fineness is well known and ascertained, such as Mexico
dollars), is 22 gilders the mark ; the mint-price is about
23 gilders ; and the market-price is from 23 gilders six
stivers to 23 gilders 16 stivers, or from 2 to 3 percent,
above the mint-price. The proportion between the
bank-price, the mint-price, and the market-price, of
gold bullion, are nearly the same. A person can gene¬
rally sell his receipt for the difference between the mint-
price of bullion and the market-price. A receipt for
bullion is almost always worth something ; and it very
seldom happens therefore that anybody suffers his re¬
ceipt to expire, or allows his bullion to fall to the bank
at the price at which it had been received, either by
not taking it out before the end of the six months, or
by neglecting to pay the ^ or | per cent, in order to
obtain a new receipt for another six months. This,
however, though it seldom happens, is said to happen
sometimes, and more frequently with regard to gold
than with regard to silver, on account of the higher
warehouse-rent which is paid for the keeping of the
more precious metal.
The person who by making a deposit of bullion ob¬
tains both a bank-credit and a receipt, pays his bills of
exchange as they become due with his bank-credit; and
either sells or keeps his receipt, according as he judges
that the price of bullion is likely to rise or to fall. The
receipt and the bank-credit seldom keep long together,
and there is no occasion that they should. The person
who has a receipt, and who wants to take out bullion,
finds always plenty of bank-credits, or bank-money, to
buy at the ordinary price ; and the person who has
bank-money, and wants to take out bullion, finds re¬
ceipts always in equal abundance.
The owners of bank-credits and the holders of re¬
ceipts constitute two diflerent sorts of creditors against
the bank. The holder of a receipt cannot draw out
the bullion for which it is granted, without re-assigning
to the bank a sum of bank-money equal to the price at
which the bullion had been received. If he has no
bank-money of his own, he must purchase it of those
who have it. The owner of bank-money cannot draw
out bullion without producing to the bank receipts for
the quantity which he wants. If he has none of his
own, he must buy them of those who have them. The
holder of a receipt, when he purchases bank-money,
purchases the power of taking out a quantity of bul¬
lion, of which the mint-price is 5 per cent, above the
bank-price. The agio of 5 per cent, therefore, which
he commonly pays for it, is paid not for an imagina¬
ry, but for a real value. The owner of bank-money,
when he purchases a receipt, purchases the power of
taking out a quantity of bullion, of which the market-
price is commonly from 2 to 3 per cent, above the mint-
price. The price which he pays for it, therefore, is
paid likewise for a real value. The price of the re¬
ceipt, and the price of the bank money, compound or
make up between them the full value or price of the
bullion.
Upon deposits of the coin current in the country,
the bank grants receipts likewise as well as bank-credits ;
but those receipts are frequently of no value, and will
Vol. III. Part I. 4.
bring no price in the market. Upon ducatoons, for Bank,
example, which in the currency pass for three gilders —y—.
three stivers each, the bank gives a credit of three gil¬
ders only, or 5 per cent, below their current value. It
grants a receipt likewise entitling the bearer to take
out the number of ducatoons deposited at any time
within six months, upon paying % per cent, for the
keeping. This receipt will frequently bring no price
in the market. Three gilders bank-money generally
sell in the market for three gilders three stivers, the full
value of the ducatoons if they were taken out of the
bank ; and before they can be taken out, per cent,
must be paid for the keeping, which would be mere
loss to the holder of the receipt. If the agio of the
bank, however, should at any time fall to 3 per cent,
such receipts might bring some price in the market,
and might sell for per cent. But the agio of
the bank being now generally about 5 per cent, such
receipts are frequently allowed to expire, or, as they
express it, to fall to the bank. The 5 per cent, which
the bank gains, when deposits either of coin or bul¬
lion are allowed to fall to it, may be considered as the
warehouse rent for the perpetual keeping of such de¬
posits.
The sum of bank-money for which the receipts are
expired must be very considerable. It must compre¬
hend the whole original capital of the bank, which,
it is generally supposed, has been allowed to remain
there from the time it was first deposited, nobody
caring either to renew his receipt or to take out his
deposit, as, for the reasons already assigned, neither
the one nor the other could be done without loss. But
whatever may be the amount of this sum, the propor¬
tion which it bears to the whole mass of bank-money is
supposed to be very small. The bank of Amsterdam
has for these many years past been the great warehouse
of Europe for bullion, for which the receipts are very
seldom allowed to expire, or, as they express it, to fall
to the bank. The far greater part of the bank-money,
or of the credits upon the books of the bank, is sup¬
posed to have been created, for these many years past,
by such deposits which the dealers in bullion are con¬
tinually both making and withdrawing.
No demand can be made upon the bank but by means
of a recipice or receipt. The smaller mass of bank-
money, for which the receipts are expired, is mixed
and confounded with the much greater mass for which
they are still in force; so that, though there may be
a considerable sum of bank-money for which there are
no receipts, there is no specific sum or portion of it
which may not at any time be demanded by one.
The bank cannot be debtor to two persons for the
same thing; and the owner of bank-money who has
no receipt cannot demand payment of the bank till
he buys one. In ordinary and quiet times, he can
find no difficulty in getting one to buy at the market-
price, which generally corresponds with the price af
which he can sell the coin or bullion it entitles him to
take out of the bank.
It might be otherwise during a public calamity ; an
invasion, for example, such as that of the French in
1672. The owners of bank-money being then all eager
to draw it out of the bank, in order to have it in their
own keeping, the demand for receipts might raise their
price to an exorbitant height. The holders of them
3 A might
BAN [ 370 ] BAN
Bank might form extravagant expectations, and instead of
—v—2 or ^ per cent, demand half the bank-money for which
credit had been given upon the deposits that the re¬
ceipts had respectively been granted for. The enemy,
informed of the constitution of the bank, might even
buy them up in order to prevent the carrying away of
the treasure. In such emergencies, the bank, it is sup¬
posed, would break through its ordinary rule of making
payment only to the holders of receipts. The holders
of receipts, who had no bank-money, must have recei¬
ved within 2 or 3 per cent, of the value of the deposit
for which their respective receipts had been granted.
The bank, therefore, it is said, would in this case make
no scruple in paying, either with money or bullion, the
full value of what the owners of bank-money who could
get no receipts were credited for in its books ; paying
at the same time 2 or 3 per cent, to such holder of re¬
ceipts as had no bank-money, that being the whole
value which in this state of things could justly be sup¬
posed due to them.
Even in ordinary and quiet times it is the interest of
the holders of receipts to depress the agio in order ei¬
ther to buy bank-money (and consequently the bullion
which their receipts would then enable them to take
out of the bank) so much cheaper, or to sell their re¬
ceipts to those who have bank-money, and who want
to take out bullion, so much dearer j the price of a re¬
ceipt being generally equal to the difference between
the market-price of bank-money and that of the coin
or bullion for which the receipt had been granted. It
is the interest of the owners of bank-money, on the
contrary, to raise the agio, in order either to sell their
bank money so much dearer, or to buy a receipt so
much cheaper. To prevent the stock-jobbing tricks
which those opposite interests might sometimes occa¬
sion, the bank has of late years come to a resolution to
sell at all times bank-money for currency, at 5 per cent,
agio, and to buy it again at 4 per cent. agio. In con¬
sequence of this resolution, the agio can never either
rise above 5 or sink below 4 per cent, and the propor¬
tion between the market-price of the bank and that of
current money is kept at all times very near to the pro¬
portion between their intrinsic values. Before this re¬
solution was taken, the market-price of money used
sometimes to rise so high as 9 per cent, agio, and some¬
times to sink so low as par, according as opposite in¬
terests happened to influence the market.
The bank of Amsterdam professes to lend out no part
of what is deposited with it, but, for every gilder for
which it gives credit in its books, to keep in its repo¬
sitories the value of a gilder either in money or bullion.
That it keeps in its repositories all the money or bullion
for which there are receipts in force, for which it is at
all times liable to be called upon, and which, in reality,
is continually going from it and returning to it again,
cannot well be doubted. But whether it does so like¬
wise with regard to that part of its capital for which
the receipts are long ago expired, for which in ordi¬
nary and quiet times it cannot be called upon, and
which in reality is very likely to remain with it for
ever, or as long as the States of the United Provinces
subsist, may appear perhaps more uncertain. At Am¬
sterdam, however, no part of faith is better established,
than that for every gilder circulated as bank-money,
there is a correspondent gilder in gold and silver to be
found in the treasure of the bank. The city is gua¬
rantee that it should be so. The bank is under the di¬
rection of the four reigning burgomasters, who are
changed every year. Each new set of burgomasters vi¬
sits the treasure, compares it with the books, receives
it upon oath and delivers it over, with the same awful
solemnity, to the set which succeeds it 5 and in that so¬
ber and religious country oaths are not yet disregarded.
A rotation of this kind seems alone a sufficient security
against any practices which cannot be avowed. Amidst
all the revolutions which faction has ever occasioned in
the government of Amsterdam, the prevailing party
has at no time accused their predecessors of infidelity
in the administration of the bank. No accusation could
have affected more deeply the reputation and fortune of
the disgraced party ; and if such an accusation could
have been supported, we may be assured that it would
have been brought. In 1672, when the French king
was at Utrecht, the bank of Amsterdam paid so readi¬
ly as left no doubt of the fidelity with which it had
observed its engagements. Some of the pieces which
were then brought from its repositories appeared to
have been scorched with the fire which happened
in the town-house soon after the bank was establish¬
ed. Those pieces, therefore, must have lain there from
that time.
What may be the amount of the treasure in the
bank is a question which has long employed the specu¬
lations of the curious. Nothing but conjecture can be
offered concerning it. It is generally reckoned, that
there are about 2000 people who keep accounts with
the bank ; and allowing them to have, one with another,
the value of 1500I. lying upon their respective ac¬
counts (a very large allowance), the whole quantity of
bank-money, and consequently of treasure in the bank,
will amount to 3,000,000!. or, at 11 gilders the pound
sterling, 33,000,000 of gilders ; a great sum, and suf¬
ficient to carry on a very extensive circulation, hut
vastly below the extravagant ideas which some people
have formed of this treasure.
The city of Amsterdam derives a considerable revenue
from the bank. Besides what may be called the ivare-
house-rent above-mentioned, each person, upon first
opening an account with the bank, pays a fee of 10 gil¬
ders, and for every new account, 3 gilders 3 stivers j
for every transfer, 2 stivers j and if the transfer is for
less than 300 gilders, 6 stivers ; in order to discourage
the multiplicity of small transactions. The person who
neglects to balance his accounts twice in the year for¬
feits 25 gilders. The person who orders a transfer for
more than is upon his accounts, is obliged to pay 3 per
cent, for the sum overdrawn, and his order is set aside
into the bargain. -The bank is supposed, too, to make
a considerable profit by the sale of the foreign coin or
bullion which sometimes falls to it by the expiring of
receipts, and which is always kept till it can be sold
with advantage. It makes a profit likewise by selling
bank-money at 5 per cent, agio, and buying it in at 4.
These different emoluments amount to a good deal more
than what is necessary for paying the salaries of officers,
and defraying the expence of management. What is
paid for the keeping of bullion upon receipts, is alone
supposed to amount to a neat annual revenue of be¬
tween 150,000 and 200,000 gilders. Public utility,
however, and not revenue, was the original object of
Bank
BAN C ] BAN
Its object was to relieve the merchants given of him in our statute-law, may be defined “ a tra¬
der, who secrets himself, or does certain other acts tend¬
ing to defraud his creditors.For the better understand¬
ing of this article, it will be proper to consider, 1. Who
this institution. j     
„ from the inconvenience of a disadvantageous exchange.
Bankrupt 'fhe revenue which has arisen from it was unforeseen.
* ^ See Banking, Supplement.
Banks for Savings, a class of institutions lately in¬
troduced with the view of encouraging habits of econo¬
my among the labouring classes. See the article in
the Supplement.
Bank, in sea affairs, denotes an elevation of the
ground or bottom of the sea, so as sometimes to sur¬
mount the surface of the Water, or at least to leave the
water so shallow as usually not to allow a vessel to re¬
main afloat over it.—In this sense, bank amounts to
much the same as flat, shoal, &c.
BANKER, a person who traffics and negociates in
money j who receives and remits money from place to
place by commission from correspondents, or by means
of bills or letters of exchange, &c.
The ancient bankers were called argentarii, and num-
mularn ; by the Greeks, TgccTn^tlcci, xoXXvftircu, and
yv^xpeifiot. Their chief business was to put out the mo¬
ney of private persons to interest; they had their boards
and benches, for this purpose, in all the markets and
public places, where they took in the money from some
to lend it to others.
BANKING, the making of banks to oppose the
force of the sea, rivers, or the like, and secure the land
from being overflowed thereby. With respect to the
water which is to be kept out, this is called banking ;
with respect to the land, which is hereby to be defend¬
ed, imbanking.
Banking is also applied to the keeping a bank, or
the employment of a banker. Banking, in this sense,
signifies the trading in money, or remitting it from
place to place, by means of bills of exchange. This
answers to what the French call jaire la banque. In
I ranee, every body is allowed to bank, whether mer¬
chant or not; even foreigners are indulged in this kind
of traffic. In Italy, banking does not derogate from
nobility, especially in the republican states j whence it
is, that most of the younger sons of great families en¬
gage in it. In reality, it was the nobility of Venice
and Genoa, that, fora long time, were the chief bankers
in the other countries of Europe.
BANK1SH, a province of the IVIoguBs dominions,
in the north part of the Hither India, lying south-west
of the province of Cassimere.
BANKRUPT, {bancus ruptus), is so called, be¬
cause, when the bank or stock is broken or exhausted,
the owner is said to be a bankrupt. And this word
bankrupt is derived from the French bunqueroute, which
signifies a breaking or failing in the world: banque in
French is as much as mens a in Latin, and route is the
same as vestigium ; and this term is said to have been
taken originally from the Roman mensarii, which were
set in public places; and when a tradesman slipped away,
with an intention to deceive his creditors, he left only
some vestigia or signs of his table or shop behind him.
But a bankrupt with us, from the several descriptions
Bankrupt.
. .  , I-
may become a bankrupt. 2. What acts make a bank-
nipt. 3. The proceedings on a commission of bankrupt¬
cy : and, 4. In what manner an estate in goods and chat¬
tels may be transferred by bankruptcy.—But of these,
the two last being treated under the article Commission
of Bankruptcy, the two first only belong to this place.
1. A bankrupt was formerly considered merely in
the light of a criminal or offender ; and in this spirit
we are told by Sir Edward Coke, that we have fetched
as well the name, as the wickedness of bankrupts from
foreign nations. But at present the laws of bank¬
ruptcy are considered as laws calculated for the benefit
of trade, and founded on the principles of humanity as
well as justice ; and to that end they confer some pri¬
vileges not only on the creditors, but also on the bank¬
rupt or debtor himself. On the creditors 3 by com¬
pelling the bankrupt to give up all his effects to their
use, without any fraudulent concealment: on the debt¬
or, by exempting him from the rigour of the general
law, whereby his person might be confined at the dis¬
cretion of his creditor, though in reality he has nothing
to satisfy the debt; whereas the law of bankrupts, taking
into consideration the sudden and unavoidable accidents
to which men in trade are liable, has given them the
liberty of their persons, and some pecuniary emoluments,
upon condition they surrender up their whole estate to
be divided among their creditors.
In this respect our legislature seems to have attended
to the example of the Roman law. We mean not the Blacksi.
terrible law of the twelve tables, whereby the creditors Comm. H.
might cut the debtor’s body into pieces, and each of^2’ ^c‘
them take his proportionable share: if indeed that law,
de debitore in partes secando, is to be understood in so
very butcherly a light; which many learned men have
with reason doubted. Nor do we mean those less in¬
human laws (if they may be called so, as their meaning
is indisputably certain), of imprisoning the debtor’s
person in chains ; subjecting him to stripes and hard
labour, at the mercy of his rigid creditor.; and some¬
times selling him, his wife, and children, to perpetual
foreign slavery trans Tibertm (a) : an oppression which
produced so many popular insurrections, and secessions
to the mons sacer. But we mean the law of cession, in¬
troduced by the Christian emperors 3 whereby, if a
debtor ceded, or yielded up all his fortune to his cre¬
ditors, he was secured from being dragged to a gaol,
“ omni quoque corporali cruciatu semotoi’1 For, as the
emperor justly observes, “ inhumanum erat spoliatum
fort unis suis in solidum damnari.” Thus far was just
and reasonable : but as the departing from one ex¬
treme is apt to produce its opposite, we "find it after¬
wards enacted, that if the debtor by any unforeseen
accident was reduced to low circumstances, and would
swear that he had not sufficient left to pay his debts, he
should not be compelled to cede or give up even that
3 A 2 which
, . (A^,. 11 jeKU’ a.n^ flie a<ll^cent countries in the East Indies, the creditor is entitled to dispose of the debtor
r*118!6 1 ’ a?11 !i.kewise an^ children; insomuch that he may even violate with impunity the chastity of
the debtor s wife ; but then, by so doing, the debt is understood to be discharged.
BAN [ 372 ] BAN
Bankrupt, which he had in his possession j a law which, under a
—v—i "< false notion of humanity, seems to be fertile of perjury,
injustice, and absurdity.
The laws of England, more wisely, have steered in
the middle between both extremes : providing at once
against the inhumanity of the creditor, who is not suf¬
fered to confine an honest bankrupt after his effects are
delivered up ; and at the same time taking care that
all his just debts shall be paid, so far as the effects will
extend. But still they are cautious of encouraging
prodigality and extravagance by this indulgence to
debtors ; and therefore they allow the benefit of the
laws of bankruptcy to none but actual traders ; since
that set of men are, generally speaking, the only per¬
sons liable to accidental losses, and to an inability of
paying their debts, without any fault of their own. If
persons in other situations of life run in debt without
the power of payment, they must take the consequence
of their own indiscretion, even though they meet with
sudden accidents that may reduce their fortunes : for
the law holds it to be an unjustifiable practice, for any
person but a trader to encumber himself with debts of
any considerable value. If a gentleman, or one in a
liberal profession, at the time of contracting his debts,
has a sufficient fund to pay them, the delay of pay¬
ment is a species of dishonesty, and a temporary injus¬
tice to his creditor : and if, at such a time, he has not
sufficient fund, the dishonesty and injustice is the great¬
er. He cannot therefore murmur, if he suffers the pu¬
nishment which he has voluntarily drawn upon himself.
But in mercantile transactions the case is far otherwise.
Trade cannot be carried on without mutual credit on
both sides ; the contracting of debts is therefore here
not only justifiable but necessary. And if, by acci¬
dental calamities, as by the loss of a ship in a tempest,
the failure of brother-traders, or by the non-payment
of persons out of trade, a merchant or trader becomes
incapable of discharging his own debts, it is his mis¬
fortune and not his fault. To the misfortunes therefore
of debtors, the law has given a compassionate remedy,
but denied it to their faults : since, at the same time
that it provides for the security of commerce, by en¬
acting that every considerable trader may be declared
a bankrupt, for the benefit of his creditors as well as
himself, it has also, to discourage extravagance, decla¬
red that no one shall be capable of being made a bank¬
rupt, but only a trader j nor capable of receiving the
full benefit of the statutes, but only an industrious tra¬
der.
In the interpretation of the several statutes made
* .34 HWi. concerning English bankrupts*, it hath been held,
i 4’ t*iat l)Uy*nS on'y, or selling only, will not qualify a
2i. Jac. I. man to be a bankrupt; but it must be both buying
c, l9. ' and selling, and also getting a livelibood by it: as, by
5 Geo. II. exercising the calling of a merchant, a grocer, a mer-
«• 30* cer, or, in one general word, a chapman, who is one
that buys and sells any thing. But no handicraft oc¬
cupation (where nothing is bought or sold, and there¬
fore an extensive credit, for the stock in trade, is not
necessary to be had) will make a man a regular bank¬
rupt : as that of a husbandman, a gardener, and the
like, who are paid for their work and labour. Also an
innkeeper cannot, as such, be a bankrupt: for his
gain or livelihood does not arise from buying and sell¬
ing in the way of merchandise, but greatly from the
2
use of his rooms and furniture, his attendance, and the Bankmpt.
like $ and though he may buy corn and victuals, to v
sell again at a profit, yet that no more makes him a
trader, than a schoolmaster or other person is, that
keeps a boarding-house, and makes considerable gains
by buying and selling what he spends in the house,
and such a one is clearly not within the statute. But
where persons buy goods, and make them up into sale¬
able commodities, as shoemakers, smiths, and the like}
here, though part of the gain is by bodily labour, and
not by buying and selling, yet they are within the sta¬
tutes of bankrupts: for the labour is only in meliora¬
tion of the commodity, and rendering it more fit for
sale.
2. To learn what the acts of bankruptcy are which
render a man a bankrupt, we must consult the several
statutes, and the resolutions formed by the courts there¬
on. Among these may therefore be reckoned, I. De¬
parting from the realm, whereby a man withdraws him¬
self from the jurisdiction and coercion of the law, with
an intent to defraud his creditors. 2. Departing from
his own house, with an intent to secrete himself and
avoid his creditors. 3. Keeping in his own house,,
privately (except for just and necessary cause), so as
not to be seen or spoken with by his creditors ; which
is likewise construed to be an intention to defraud his
creditors, by avoiding the process of the law. 4. Pro¬
curing or suffering himself willingly to be arrested, or
outlawed, or imprisoned, without just and lawful cause }
which is likewise deemed an v attempt to defraud his
creditors. 5. Procuring his money, goods, chattels,
and effects, to be attached or sequestrated by any legal
process} which is another plain and direct endeavour
to disappoint his creditors of their security. 6. Making
any fraudulent conveyance to a friend, or secret trustee,
of his lands, tenements, goods, or chattels: which i&
an act of the same suspicious nature with the last.
7. Procuring any protection, not being himself privile¬
ged by parliament, in order to screen his person from
arrests } which also is an endeavour to elude the justice
of the law. 8. Endeavouring, or desiring, by any
petition to the king, or bill exhibited in any of the
king’s courts against any creditors, to compel them to
take less than their just debts ; or to procrastinate the
time of payment, originally contracted for } which are
an acknowledgment of either his poverty or his knavery.
9. Eying in prison for two months, or more, upon,
arrest or other detention for debt, without finding
bail, in order to obtain liberty. For the inability
to procure bail argues a strong deficiency in his credit,
owing either to his suspected poverty, or ill character }
and his neglect to do it, if able, can arise only from
a fraudulent intention ; in either of which cases, it
is high time for his creditors to look to themselves, and.
compel a distribution of his effects. 10. Escaping
from prison after an arrest for a just debt of look or
upwards : for no man would break prison, that was
able and desirous to procure bail : which brings it
within the reason of the last case. II. Neglecting to
make satisfaction for any just debt to the amount of
tool, within two months after service of legal process,
for such debt, upon any trader having privilege of par¬
liament.
rl hese are the several acts of bankruptcy expressly
defined by the statutes relating to this article } which
being
BAN
Sanknipt, being so numerous, and the whole law of bankrupts
B»nk». being an innovation on the common law, our courts
of justice have been tender of extending or multiplying
acts of bankruptcy by any construction or implication.
And therefore Sir John Holt held, that a man’s re¬
moving his goods privately to prevent their being sei¬
zed in execution, was no act of bankruptcy. For the
statutes mention only fraudulent gifts to third persons,
and procuring them to be seized by sham process, in
order to defraud creditors j hut this, though a pal¬
pable fraud, yet, falling within neither of those cases,
cannot be adjudged an act of bankruptcy. So also it
has been determined expressly, that a banker’s stopping
or refusing payment is no act of bankruptcy : for it is
not within the description of any of the statutes ; and
there may be good reasons for his so doing, as suspicion
of forgery, and the like j and if, in consequence of
such refusal, he is arrested, and puts in bail, still it is
no act of bankruptcy j but if he goes to prison, aud lies
there two months, then, and not before, is he become a
bankrupt.
As to the consequences resulting from the unhappy
situation of a bankrupt, see the article Commission of
Bankruptcy.
BANKS, John, a dramatic writer, was bred to
the law, and belonged to the society of Gray’s Inn $
but this profession not suiting his natural disposition,
he quitted it for the service of the muses. Here, how¬
ever, he found his rewards by no means adequate to
his deserts. His emoluments at the best were preca¬
rious, and the various successes of his pieces too feel¬
ingly convinced him of the error in his choice. This,
however, did not prevent him from pursuing with
cheerfulness the path he had taken ; his thirst of fame,
and warmth of poetic enthusiasm, alleviating to his
imagination many disagreeable circumstances into which
indigence, the too frequent attendant on poetical pur¬
suits, frequently threw him. His turn was entirely to
tragedy; his merit in which is of a peculiar kind,
lor at the same time that his language must be confes¬
sed to be extremely unpoetical, and his numbers un¬
couth and unharmonious ; nay, even his characters ve¬
ry far from being strongly marked or distinguished,
and his episodes extremely irregular : yet it is impos¬
sible to avoid being deeply affected at the representa¬
tion, and even at the reading, of his tragic pieces.
This is owing in the general to a happy choice of his
subjects ; which are all borrowed from history, either
real or romantic ; and indeed the most of them from
circumstances in the annals of our own country, which,
not only from their being familiar to our continual re¬
collection, but even from their having some degree of
relation to ourselves, we are apt to receive with a kind
of partial prepossession, and a pre-determination to be
pleased. He has constantly chosen as the basis of his
plays such tales as were in themselves and their well-
known catastrophes most truly adapted to the purposes
of the drama. He has indeed but little varied from
the strictness of historical facts ; but he seems to have
made it his constant rule to keep the scene perpetually
alive, and never suffer his characters to droop. His
verse is not poetry, but prose run mad. Yet will the
false gem sometimes approach so near in glitter to the
true one, at least in the eyes of all but real connoisseurs
^and how small a part of an audience are to be ranked-
BAN
in this class it will need no ghost to inform us), that Banics
bombast will frequently pass for the true sublime; and |)
Avhere it^is rendered the vehicle of incidents in them-_ Jtann.
selves affecting, and in which the heart is apt to inte- v" '"f
rest itself, it will perhaps be found to have a stronger
power on the human passions than even that property
to which it is in reality no more than a bare succeda-
neum. And from these principles it is that we must
account for Mr Banks’s writings having in the gene¬
ral drawn more tears from, and excited more terror in,
even judicious audiences, than those of much more cor¬
rect and more truly poetical authors. The tragedies-
he has left behind him are, I. Albion Queens. 2. Cyrus
the Great. 3. Destrustion of Troy. 4. Innocent U-
surper. 5. Island Queens. This is only the Albion
Queens altered. 6. Rival Kings. 7. Virtue Betray¬
ed. 8. Unhappy Favourite. The Albion Queens was
rejected by the managers in 1684; but was acted by
Queen Anne’s command in 1706, with great applause,
and has been several times revived. The Unhappy
Favourite continued till very lately a stock tragedy at
the theatres ; but gives way at present, to the later
tragedies from the same story, by Jones and Brooke.—
Neither the time of the birth, nor that of the death,
of this author, are ascertained. His remains, how¬
ever, lie interred in the church of St James’s, West¬
minster.
BANKS’S island, a small island in the South sea,
discovered by Captain Cook in 1770, in S. Lat. 53.
32. W. Long. 186. 30. It is of a circular figure, and
about 24 leagues in compass : it is sufficiently high to
be seen at the distance of 12 or 15 leagues ; and the
land has a broken irregular surface, with the appear¬
ance of barrenness rather than fertility. It is, however,
inhabited ; as some straggling savages were observed
upon it.
BANKSIA. See Botany Index.
BANN, or Ban (from the Brit, ban, i. e. clamour),
is a proclamation or public notice; any public sum¬
mons or edict, whereby a thing is commanded or for¬
bidden. It is a word ordinary among the feudists ;
and there is both bonus and banum, which signify two
several things.—The word banns is particularly used in
England in publishing matrimonial contracts ; which
is done in the church before marriage, to the end th^t'
if any persons can speak against the intention of the
parties, either in respect of kindred, precontract, or
for other just cause, they may take their exception in
time before the marriage is consummated ; and in the
canon law, Bannse sunt proclamationes sponsi et sponsce
m ecclestis fieri solitce. But there may be a faculty or
license for the marriage, and then this ceremony is
omitted: and ministers are not to celebrate matrimony
between any persons without a license, except the banns
have been first published three several times, upon pain ,
of suspension, &c. Can. 62.
The use of matrimonial banns is said to have been
first introduced in the Galilean church, though some¬
thing like it obtained even in the primitive times; and
it is this that Tertullian is supposed to mean Udnun-
dina promulgation The council of Lateran first ex¬
tended, and made the usage general. By the ordi¬
nance of Blois, no person could validly contract mar¬
riage, without a preceding proclamation of three banns ;
nor could any person whatever be dispensed with, ex-
cep£x
1 573 T
BAN t 374 ] BAN
Bann, cept for the two last. But the French themselves have
Banner, abated much of this severity ; and only minors are now
   under an absolute necessity of submitting to the forma¬
lity of banns. For majors, or those of age, after pub¬
lication of the first banns, the two latter are easily
bought off.
Bank is also used to denote proscription or banish¬
ment for a crime proved j because anciently published
by sound of trumpet 5 or, as Vossius thinks, because
those who did not appear at the above-mentioned sum¬
mons, were punished by proscription. Hence to put a
prince under the bann of the empire, is to declare him
divested of all his dignities. The sentence only denotes
an interdict of all intercourse, and offices of humanity,
with the offender; the form of which seems taken from
that of the Romans, who banished persons by forbidding
them the use of fire and water. Sometimes also cities
are put under the imperial bann j that is, stripped of
their rights and privileges.
Bann also denotes a pecuniary mulct, or penalty,
laid on a delinquent for offending against a bann.
Bank, or Bannus, a title anciently given to the
governor or viceroy of Croatia, Dalmatia, and Scla-
vonia.
Episcopal Bann {Bannus Episcopalis'), a mulct paid
to the bishop by those guilty of sacrilege and other
crimes.
Bann is also used for a solemn anathema, or ex-
communication attended with curses, &c. In this sense
we read oipapal banns, &c.
Bank, in military affairs, a proclamation made in the
army by beat of drum, sound of trumpet, &c. requiring
the strict observance of discipline, either for the declar¬
ing a new officer, or punishing an offender.
BANNER denotes either a square flag, or the prin¬
cipal standard belonging to a prince.
We find a multiplicity of opinions concerning the
etymology of the word banner ; some deriving it from
the Latin bandum, “ a band or flag j” others from the
word bann, “to summons the vassals to appear in arms j”
others again from the German ban, “ a field or tene¬
ment,” because landed men alone were allowed a ban¬
ner : and, finally, there are some who think it is a cor¬
ruption of panniere, from pannus, “ cloth,” because
banners were originally made of cloth.
The Banner of France, was the largest and richest
of all the flags borne by the ancient kings in their great
military expeditions. St Martin’s cap was in use 600
years as the banner of France 5 it was made of taffety,
painted with the image of that saint, and laid one or
two days on his tomb to prepare it for use. About
the yeai 1100 came in a more pompous apparatus.
The banner royal was fastened to the top of a mast, or
some tall tree, planted on a scaffold } borne on a carri¬
age drawn by oxen, covered with velvet housings, de¬
corated with devices or cyphers of the prince reigning.
At the foot of the tree was a priest, who said mass early
every morning. Ten knights mounted guard on the
scaffold night and day, and as many trumpets at the
foot of the tree never ceased flourishing, to animate the
troops. I Ins cumbersome machine, the model of which
was brought from Italy, continued in use about 130
years. Its post was in the centre of the army. And
here it was that the chief feats were performed, to car¬
ry off and defend the royal banner; for there was no
3
victory without it, nor was any army reputed vanquish- Banner
ed till they had lost their banner. Bannerets.
BANNERETS, an ancient order of knights, 0rv"" v —
feudal lords j who, possessing several large fees, led
their vassals to battle under their own flag or banner,
when summoned thereto by the king. The word seems
formed from banner, “ a square flag,” or from bund,
which anciently denoted a flag.^—Bannerets are also
called in ancient writers milites vexilliferi, and vexillarii
bannerarii, bannarii, banderisii, Sfc.
Anciently there W'ere two kinds of knights, great
and little ; the first whereof was called bannerets, the
second bachelors; the first composed the upper, the
second the middle, nobility.
The banneret was a dignity allowed to march un¬
der his own flag, whereas the bachelarius eques follow¬
ed that of another, lo be qualified for a banneret,
one must be a gentleman of family, and must have a
power to raise a certain number of armed men, with
estate enough to subsist at least 28 or 30 men. This
must have been very considerable in those days j be¬
cause each man, besides his servant, had two horsemen
to W'ait on him armed, the one with a cross-bow, the
other with a bow and hatchet. As he was not allow¬
ed to be a baron who had not above 13 knights fees,
so he was not admitted to be a banneret if he had less
than 10.
Banneret, according to Spelman, was a middle or¬
der between a baron and a simple knight; called some¬
times also vexillarius minor, to distinguish him from the
greater, that is, from the baron, to whom alone pro¬
perly belonged jus vexilli, or privilege of the square
flag. Hence the banneret was also called bannerettus,
quasi baro minor; a word frequently used by English
writers in the same sense as banneret was by the French,
though neither of them occur before the time of Ed¬
ward II.
Some will have bannerets to have originally been
persons who had some portion of a barony assigned
them ; and enjoyed it under the title of baro proximus,
and that with the same prerogatives as the baron him¬
self. Some, again, find the origin of bannerets in
1 ranee, others in Brittany, others in England. These
last attribute the institution of bannerets to Conan,
lieutenant of Maximus, who commanded the Roman
legions in England under the empire of Gratian in 383.
Ihis general, say they, revolting, divided England into
40 cantons, and in these cantons distributed 40 knights ;
to whom he gave a power of assembling, on occasion,
under their several banners, as many of the effective
men as were found in their respective districts: whence
they are called bannerets. However this be, it appears ^
from Iroissart, &c. that anciently such of the military
men as were rich enough to raise and subsist a company
of armed men, and had a right to do so, were called
bannerets. Not, however, that these qualifications
rendered them knights, but only bannerets ; the appel¬
lation of knight being only added thereto, because they
were simple knights before.
Bannerets were second to none but knights of the
Garter. They were reputed the next degree below the
nobility ; and were allowed to bear arms with sup¬
porters, which none else may under the degree of a
baion. In France, it is said, the dignity was heredi¬
tary 3 but in England it died with the person that
BAN [3
Banneret gained it. The order1 dwindled on the institution of
11 baronets by King James I. and at length became ex-
Banquet- tjnct< The last person created banneret was Sir John
i Smith, made so after Edgehill fight, for rescuing the
standard of King Charles I.
1 he form ot the banneret’s creation was this. On
a day of battle, the candidate presented his flag to the
king or general 5 who, cutting oft' the train or skirt
thereof, and making it a square, returned it again, the
proper banner of bannerets 5 who are hence sometimes
called knights of the square flag. There seem to have
been bannerets created either in a different manner, or
by others than the sovereign ; since King James, in the
patents of baronets, gives them precedence to all knights
bannerets, except such as are created by the king him¬
self in the field ; which implies, either that there are
some of this order created out of the field, or by infe¬
rior persons. See Chivalry, Supplement.
Banneret is also the name of an officer or magi¬
strate of Rome towards the close of the 14th century.
— I he people of that city, and throughout the terri¬
tory of the church, during the disputes of the anti-
popes, had formed a kind of republican government 3
where the whole power was lodged in the hands of a
magistrate called senator, and twelve heads of quarters
called bannerets, by reason of the banners which each
raised in his district.
BANNOCK, a kind of oat-cake, baked in the em¬
bers, or on a stone placed before the fire. It is com¬
mon in the northern parts of this kingdom.
BANNOCKBURN, a village in Scotland, near
Stirling, celebrated as the place of a great battle be¬
tween the Scots and English. See Supplement.
BANNUM, in Law, signifies the utmost bounds of
a manor or town.
BANQUET, a feast or entertainment where people
regale themselves with pleasant foods or fruits.
Banquet, in the manege, that small part of the
branch of a bridle that is under the eyej which gathers
and joins the extremities of the bit to the branch.
BANQUET-Line, an imaginary line drawn, in making
a bit, along the banquet, and prolonged up or down,
to adjust the designed force or weakness of the branch,
in order to make it stiff or easy.
Banquet, or Banquette, in Fortification, a little
foot-bank, or elevation of earth, forming a path which
runs along the inside of a parapet, upon which the
musketeers get up, in order to discover the counter¬
scarp, or to fire on the enemy, in the moat or in the
covert-way.
^ BANQUETING room or house. See Saloon.
Hie ancient Romans supped in the atrium, or vesti¬
bule, of their houses 5 but, in after times, magnificent
saloons, or banqueting-rooms, were built, for the more
commodious and splendid entertainment of their guests.
Lucullus had several of these, each distinguished by the
name of some god ; and there was a particular rate of
expence appropriated to each. Plutarch relates with
what magnificence he entertained Cicero and Pompey,
who went with a design to surprise him, by only tellino-
a slave who waited, that the cloth should be laid in the
Apollo. The emperor Claudius, among others, had a
splendid banqueting-room named Mercury. But every
thing of this kind was outdone by the lustre of that
celebrated banqueting-house of Nero, called domus au-
5 ] BAN
rea i which, by the circular motion of its partitions £anf)Uei;
and ceilings, imitated the revolution of the heavens, ||
and represented the different seasons of the year, which bantam-
changed at every service, and showered down flowers,, W01*{-
essences, and perfumes, on the guests.
BANS! 1CKLE. See Gasterosteus, Ichthyo¬
logy Index.
BAN!AM, a town of the island of Java, in the
East Indies, situated in E. Long. 105. 16. S. Lat..
6. 20. It is the capital of a kingdom of the same
name, with a harbour and castle ; but the harbour is
now so choked up that it is inaccessible to vessels of
any great burden. It is divided into two towns sepa¬
rated by a river, and one of them inhabited by
Chinese. Bantam once enjoyed a flourishing trade. It
was a great mart for pepper and other spices ; but this
trade, as well as the power of its sovereign, has fallen
to decay. lor its history, &c. see Java.
Bantam-work, a kind ot painted or carved work,
resembling that of Japan, only more gaudv.
There are two sorts of Bantam, as well as of Japan
work. As, in the latter, some are flat, lying even
with the black, and others high and embossed j so in
Bantam-work, some are flat and others in-cut, or
cai ved into the wood, as we find in many large screens :
with this difference, that the Japan arti'sts work chiefly
in gold and other metals j and those of Bantam gene¬
rally in colours, with a small sprinkling of gold here
and there : for the flat Bantam-work is done in co¬
lours, mixed with gum-water, proper for the thing de¬
signed to be imitated. For the carved, or in-cut kind,
the method of performing it is thus described by an in¬
genious artist: First, the wood is to be primed with
whiting and size, so often till the primer lie near a
quarter of an inch thick 5 then it is to be water-plain¬
ed, i. e. rubbed with a fine wet cloth, and some time
after, rubbed very smooth, the blacks laid on, varnished
up with a good body, and polished well, though with
a gentle hand. This done, the design is to be traced
out with vermilion and gum-water, exactly in the
manner wherein it is intended to be cut j the figures,
trees, building, &c. in their due proportion : then the
graver is applied, with other tools, of proper shapes,
differing according to the workman’s fancy : with these
he cuts deep or shallow, as is found convenient, but
never -deeper than the whiting lies, the wood being
never to feel the edge of the instrument. Lines, or
p.u ts of the black, are still to be left for the draperies,
and other outlines, and for the distinction of one
thing from another j the rule being to cut where the
white is, and leave the black untouched. The carving
being finished, then take to the pencil, with which the
colours are laid into the cut-work : after this, the gold
is to be laid in those places which the design requires j
for which purpose a strong thick gum-arabic water is
taken and laid with a pencil on the work ; and, while
this remains wret, leaf-gold is cut with a sharp smooth-
edged knife, in little pieces, shaped to the bigness and
figure of the places where they are to be laid. These
being taken up with a little cotton, they daub them
with the same close to the gum-water, which affords a
rich lustre. The work thus finished, they clear up the
black with oil, taking care not to touch the colours.
The European workmen ordinarily use brass dust, which
is less bright and beautiful.,
BANTRY,
Various
Hames
given to
baptism.
Bingham’s
Or/g. Ke¬
cks.
Its origin,
&G.
BAP l 31
T3ANTRY, a town of Ireland, in the county of
Cork, and province of Munster. It is seated on a
bay of the same name, in W. Long. 9. 15. N. Lat.
51- 3°'
BAOBAB, the name given by Prosper Alpinus to
the African calabash-tree, since called Adansonia.
See Botany Index.
BAPTISM, in matters of religion, the ceremony
of washing; or a sacrament, by which a person is ini¬
tiated into the Christian church.—The word is formed
from the Greek fixTrlt^u, of /Sctirlv, to dip or wash. Bap¬
tism is known, in ecclesiastical writers, by divers other
names and titles. Sometimes it is called paiingenesia,
or laver of regeneration ; sometimes salus, or life and
salvation ; sometimes a-^neyis, signacuhnn Domini, and
signacuhwi fidei, or the seal of faith ; sometimes abso¬
lutely mysterium, and sacramentum; sometimes the sa¬
crament of faith ,* sometimes viaticum, from its being
administered to departing persons ; sometimes sacerdo-
tium laici, or the lay priesthood, because allowed, in cases
ot necessity, to be conferred by laymen: sometimes it is
called the great circumcision, because it was imagined to
succeed in the room of circumcision, and to be a seal of
the Christian covenant, as that was the seal of the cove¬
nant made with Abraham: so, in regard that baptism had
Christfor its author, and not man, it was anciently known
by the name of and ^x^icry,» Kvptt, the gift of the
lord: sometimes it was simply called tfcn^ov, without any
other addition, by way of eminence, because it was
both a gratuitous and singular gift of Christ: in refe¬
rence to the making men complete members of Christ’s
body, the church, it had the name of Tstoutris, and
Titew, the consecration and consummation ; because it
gave men the perfection of Christians, and a right to
partake of the To TsXtov, which was the Lord's Supper:
it had also the name of y.vYi<rts and y,vcxyuytx, the ini¬
tiation, because it was the admittance of men to all the
sacred rites and mysteries of the Christian religion.
Baptism has been supposed by many learned authors
to have had its origin from the Jewish church, in
which, as they maintain, it was the practice long be¬
fore Christ’s time, to baptize proselytes or converts to
their faith, as part of the ceremony of their admission :
a practice which, according to some, obtains among
them to this day ; a person turning Jew, is first cir¬
cumcised, and, when healed, is bathed, or baptized in
water, in presence of their rabbins ; after which he is
reputed a good Jew. Others, however, insist that the
Jewish pfoselyte baptism is not by far so ancient, and
that John the Baptist was the first administrator of
baptism among the Jews. Of this opinion were Dey-
lingius, J. G. Carpzovius, Boernerus, Wernsdorfius,
Zeltnerus, Owen, Knatchbull, Jennings, Gill, and
others.
. Grotius Is of opinion, that the rite of baptism had
its original from the time of the deluge ; immediately
after which, he thinks, it was instituted In memory of
the world having been purged by water. Some learned
men think it was added to circumcision, soon after the
Samaritan schism, as a mark of distinction to the ortho-
ox . evvs. . Spencer, who is fond of deriving the rites
ot the Jewish religion from the ceremonies of the Pa¬
gans, lays it down as a probable supposition, that the
Jews received the baptism of proselytes from the neigh¬
bouring nations, who were wont to prepare candidates
6 ]
BAP
Baptism,
for the more sacred functions of their religion, by a so¬
lemn ablution ; that by this affinity of sacred rites,  
they might draw the Gentiles to embrace their religion,
and that the proselytes (in gaining of whom they were
extremely diligent) might the more easily comply with
the transition from Gentilism to Judaism. In confirma¬
tion of this opinion, he observes, first, that there is
no divine precept for the baptism - of proselytes, God
having enjoined only the rite of circumcision for the
admission of strangers into the Jewish religion. Se¬
condly, that, among foreign nations, the Egyptians, Per¬
sians, Greeks, Romans, and others, it was customary that
those rvho were to be initiated into their mysteries, or sa¬
cred rites, should be first purified by dipping their whole
body in water. That learned writer adds, as a farther
confirmation of his opinion, that the cup of blessing
likewise, added to the paschal supper, seems plainly to
have been derived from a pagan original : for the '
Greeks, at their feasts, had one cup, called
etyxig ^xtuovog, the cup of the good dee man or god, which
they drank at the conclusion of their entertainment,
when the table was removed. Since then, a rite of
Gentile origin was added to one of the Jewish sacra¬
ments, viz. the passover, there can be no absurdity in
supposing, that baptism, which was added to the other
sacrament, namely circumcision, might be derived from
the same source. In the last place, he observes, that
Christ, in the institution of his sacraments, paid a pe¬
culiar regard to those rites which were borrowed from
the Gentiles : for rejecting circumcision and the paschal
supper, he adopted into his religion baptism and tiie
sacred cup; thus preparing the way for the conversion
and reception of the Gentiles into his church.
The design of the Jewish baptism, if baptism be
practised by them, is supposed to be, to import a rege¬
neration, whereby the proselyte is rendered a new man,
and of a slave becomes free. The effect of it is, to
cancel all former relations ; so that those who were
before akin to the person, after the ceremony ceased to
be so. It is to this ceremony Christ is supposed to have
alluded, in his expression to Nicodemus, that it was
necessary that he should be born again, in order to be¬
come his disciple.—The necessity of baptism to salva¬
tion is grounded on those two sayings of our Saviour;
He that believeth, and is baptised, shall be saved; and
Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot
enter into the kingdom of God. The ancients did not ge- Opinions
nerally think the mere want of baptism, where the pro-concerni*?
curing it was impracticable, excluded men absolutely the effects
from the hopes oi eternal salvation. Some few of them,
indeed, are pretty severe upon infants dying without
baptism; and some others seem also, in general terms,
to deny eternal life to adult persons dying without it:
but when they interpret themselves, and speak more
distinctly, they make some allowances, and except se¬
veral cases, in which the want of baptism may be sup¬
plied by other means. Such are, martyrdom, which
commonly goes by the name of second baptism in men's
own blood, in the writings of the ancients; because 6f
the power and efficacy it was thought to have to save
men by the invisible baptism of the Spirit, without the
external element of water. Faith, and repentance,
were also esteemed a supplement to the want of bap¬
tism, in such catechumens as died while they were pi¬
ously preparing themselves for baptism. Constantly
communicating
BAP
Bsplism
communicating with the church, was thought to sup
j ply the want of baptism in persons who had been ad¬
mitted to communion, on a presumption of their being
duly baptized, though the contrary afterwards appear¬
ed. lor infants dying without baptism, the case was
thought more dangerous j as here, no personal faith,
repentance, or the like, could be pleaded, to supply the
defect, and wash away original sin : on this account,
they who spoke most favourably of them, as Greg.
l\ azianzen, and Severus bishop of Antioch, only assign¬
ed them a middle state, neither in heaven nor hell.
But the Latins, as St Augustin, Fulgentius, Marius
Mercator, &c. who never received the opinion of a
middle state, concluded, as they could not be received
into heaven, they must go to hell. Pelagius, and his
followers, who denied original sin, asserted, that they
might be admitted to eternal life, and salvation, though
not to the kingdom of heaven $ between which they
distinguished. Where the fault was not on the side of
the child, nor his parents, but of the minister, or
where any unavoidable accident rendered baptism ab¬
solutely impossible, Hincmar, and others, make an
exception, in holding the child saved without bap¬
tism.
I he receiving baptism is not limited to any time, or
de’suPb!Ce’a-ge 0?]‘fe' .Some contend for its being administered
like circumcision, precisely on the eighth day, as Greg*
Nazianzen ; and others would have it deferred till the
child is three years of age, and able to bear the mystic
words, and make answer thereto, though he do not un¬
destand them. In the canon law we find divers injunc¬
tions against deferring the baptism of infants beyond the
37th day, 30th day, and the 9th day j some of them
under pecuniary forfeitures.
Salmasius, and Suicerus from him, deliver it as
authentic history, that for the two first ages, no one
received baptism, who was not first instructed in the
faith and doctrine of Christ, so as to be able to an¬
swer for himself, that he believed 5 because of those
words, He that believeth and is baptized; which, in
effect, is to say, that no infant, for the first two ages,
was ever admitted to Christian baptism. But, after¬
wards, they own, that paedo-haptism came in, upon
r 377 i
BAP
the
ie, p
d sub
■ts of
litism.
the opinion that baptism was necessary to salvation.
But Vossius, Dr Forbes, Dr Hammond, Mr Walker,
and especially Mr Wall, who has exactly considered
the testimony and authority of almost every ancient
writer that has said any thing upon this subject, en¬
deavour to evince, that infants were baptized even In
the apostolical age. It is certain, Tertullian pleads
strongly against giving baptism to infants ; which shows,
at least, that there was some such practice in his age
though he disapproved of it. It is certain, the ordi¬
nary subjects of this sacrament, in the first ages, were
converts from Judaism and Gentilism, who, before they
could be admitted to baptism, were obliged to spend
some time in the state of catechumens, to qualify them
to make their professions of faith, and a Christian life,
in their own persons: for, without such personal pro-
iessions, there was ordinarily no admission of them to
the privilege of baptism. Those baptized in their
sick-beds were called clinici; and were held in some re¬
proach, as not being reputed true Christians. Hence
several censures, in councils and ecclesiastical writers,
°t clime baptism. This clinic baptism was not suffi-
Vol. III. Part I. * |
cient to qualify the person, in case of recovery, for Baptism.
ordination. Some had their baptism put off by way '1 y——.
of punishment, when they fell into gross and scanda¬
lous crimes, which were to be expiated by a longer
course of discipline and repentance. This was some¬
times 5, 10, 20 years or more; even all their lives
to the hour of death, when their crimes were very fla¬
grant.
In the earliest ages of the church, there was no stated
time or place for the reception of baptism. After¬
wards Easter, Whitsuntide, and Epiphany, became so¬
lemn seasons, out of which baptism was not administer¬
ed, except in cases of necessity. The catechumens who
were to receive it at these times, were called competent
tes: and to these it is that St Cyril addresses his cate-
cheses. In the apostolical age, and some time after,
before churches and baptisteries were generally erected,
they baptized in any place where they had conveni¬
ence ; as John baptized in Jordan, and Philip baptized
the eunuch in the wilderness, and Paul the jailor in his
own house. But in after ages, baptisteries were built
adjoining to the church ; and then rules were made,
that baptism should ordinarily be administered nowhere
but in these buildings, Justinian, in one of his novels,
refers to ancient laws, appointing that none of the sa¬
cred mysteries of the church should be celebrated in pri¬
vate houses. Men might have private oratories for
prayer in their own honses; but they were not to ad¬
minister baptism or the eucliarist in them, unless by a
particular license from the bishop of the place. Such
baptisms are frequently condemned in the ancient coun¬
cils, under the name TrugctfixTrlie-ficflct, baptisms inprivate
conventicles.
As to the attendant ceremonies and manner of bap-Ancient ee-
tism in the ancient church : The person to be baptized, l'emonies*
if an adult, was first examined by the bishop or officiat-
ing priest, who put some questions to him ; as, first,
Whether he abjured the devil and all his works ; second-
ly, Whether he gave a firm assent to all the articles of
the Christian faith: to both which he answered in the
affirmative. If the person to be baptized was an in¬
fant, these interrogatories were answered by his spon~
sores, or godfathers. Whether the use of sponsors
was as old as the apostles days, is uncertain : perhaps
it was not, since Justin Martyr, speaking of the me¬
thod and form of baptism, says not a word of them.—
After the questions and answers, followed exorcism ; the
manner and end of which was this : The minister laid
Ins hands on the person’s head, and breathed in his
face, implying thereby the driving away or expelling
of the devil from him, and preparing him for baptism,
by which the good and holy spirit was to be conferred
upon him—After exorcism, followed baptism itself:
and first the minister, by prayer, consecrated the water
for that use. Tertullian says, “ any waters may he
applied to that use : but then God must be first invo-
cated; and then the Holy Ghost presently comes down
from heaven, and moves upon them, and sanctifies
them.” The waters being consecrated, the person was
baptized “ in the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghostby which “ dedication of him
to the blessed Trinity, the person, (says Clemens Alexan-
drinus) is delivered from the corrupt trinity, the devil
the world, and the flesh.” In performing the ceremony'
of baptism, the usual custom (except in clinical cases
3 B or
bap
Baptism or where there was scarcity of water), was to immerse
ami (i;p t|ie whole body. Thus St Barnabas, describ¬
ing a baptized person,’says, “ We go down into the
water full of sin and filth, but we ascend bearing fruit
in our hearts.” And this practice of immersing the
whole body was so general, that we find no exceptions
made in respect either to the tenderness of infants, or
the bashfulness of the other sex, unless in case of sick¬
ness or other disability. But to prevent any indecency,
men and women were baptized apart. To which end,
either the baptisteries were divided into two apart¬
ments, one for the men, the other for the women, as
Bingham has observed •, or the men were baptized at
one time and the women at another, as is shown by
Vossius, from the Ordo Romanus, Gregory’s Sacramen-
tarium, &c. Add, that there was anciently an order
of deaconesses, one part of whose business was to assist
at the baptism of women. The precautions, however,
rather indicate a scrupulous attention to delicacy, than
imply any indecency in the circumstance of immersion
itself. From the candidates being immersed, there is
at least no reason to infer that they were naked : The
present Baptists never baptize naked, though they al¬
ways immerse. After immersion, followed the unction ;
by which (says St Cyril) was signified that they wrere
now' cut off from the wild olive, and were ingrafted in¬
to Christ, the true olive tree j or else to shew that they
were now to be champions for the gospel, and were
anointed thereto, as the old athletae were against their
solemn games. With this anointing was joined the
sign of the cross, made upon the forehead of the person
baptized ; which being done, he had a white garment
given him, to denote his being washed from the defile¬
ments of sin, or in allusion to that of the apostle, “ As
many as are" baptized in Christ have put on Christ.”
From this custom the feast of Pentecost, which was
one of the annual seasons of baptism, came to be called
Whitsunday, i. e. White-sunday. This garment w’as
afterwards laid up in the church, that it might be an
evidence against such persons as violated or denied that
faith which they had owned in baptism.—When the
baptism was performed, the person baptized, according
to Justin Martyr, “ was received into the number of
the faithful, who then sent up their public prayers to
God, for all men, for themselves, and for those who had
been baptized.”
The ordinary ministers, w'ho had the right of admini¬
stering this sacrament, that is, of applying the water to
the body, and pronouncing the formula, were presbyters
or bishops ; though on extraordinary occasions laymen
were admitted to perform the same.
Modern As to the present form of administering baptism,
forms—In church of Rome uses the following. When a child
ofMlome^1 *s l,e baptized, the persons who bring it wait for the
priest at the door of the church, who comes thither in
his surplice and purple stole, attended bv his clerks.
He begins with questioning the godfathers, whether
they promise, in the child’s name, to live and die in
the true catholic and apostolic faith, and what name
they wrould give the child. Then follows an exhorta¬
tion to the sponsors ; after which the priest, calling the
child by its name, asks it as follows : What dost thou
demand oj the church ?- The godfather answers, Eter¬
nal life. The priest goes on : If you are desirous of
obtaining eternal life, keep God's commandments, thou
BAP
shall love the Lord thy God, &c. After which he Baptism
breathes three times in the child’s face, saying, Come u—yAl.
out of this child, thou evil spirit, and make room for the
Holy Ghost. This said, he makes the sign of the cross
on the child’s forehead and breast, saying, Receive the
sign of the cross on thy forehead, and in thy heart. Then
taking off his cap, he repeats a short prayer j and lay¬
ing his hand gently on the child’s head, repeats a second
prayer : which ended, he blesses some salt; and putting
a little of it into the child’s mouth, pronounces these
words, Receive the salt of wisdom. All this is per¬
formed at the church door. The priest, with the god¬
fathers and god-mothers, coming into the church, and
advancing towards the font, repeat the apostles creed
and the Lord’s prayer. Being come to the font, the
priest exorcises the evil spirit again ; and taking a little
of his own spittle, with the thumb of iiis right hand,
rubs it on the child’s ears and nostrils, repeating, as he
touches the right ear, the same word {Ephatha, be thou
opened) which our Saviour made use of to the man born
deaf and dumb. Lastly, they pull oft’ its swaddling-
clothes, or strip it below the shoulders, during which
the priest prepares the oils, &c. The sponsors then
hold the child directly over the font, observing to turn
it due east and w'est : w hereupon the priest asks the
child, Whether he renounces the devil and all his works?
and the godfather having answered in the affirmative,
the priest anoints the child between the shoulders in the
form of a cross. Then taking some of the consecrated
water, he pours part of it thrice on the child’s head, at
each perfusion calling on one ot the Persons of the Holy
Trinity. The priest concludes the ceremony of bap¬
tism with an exhortation.—The Romish church allows
midwives, in cases of danger, to baptize a child before
it comes entirely out of its mother’s womb : where it is
to be observed, that some part of the body ol the child
must appear before it can be baptized, and that it is
baptized on the part which first appears : if it be the
head, it is not necessary to rebaptize the child ; but if
only a foot or hand appears, it is necessary to repeat
baptism. A stillborn child thus baptized may be buried
in consecrated ground.
The Greek church differs from the Romish, as to the In the
rite of baptism, chiefly in performing it by immersion,
or plunging the infant all over in the water.
The forms of administering baptism among us being
too well known to require a particular description, we in the
shall only mention one or two of the more material dif-liturgy o*
ferences between the form, as it stood in the first litur-King Ed¬
gy of King Edward, and that in the English Com-war
mon Prayer Book at present. First, the form of con- j
secrating the water did not make a part of the office,
in King Edward’s liturgy, as it dues in the present, he- !
cause the- water in the font was changed, and conse¬
crated, hut once a month. The form likewise itself
was something different from that now used ■, and was
introduced with a short prayer, that Jesus Christ, upon
whom {when he was hapti%ed') the Holy Ghost came
down in the likeness of a dove, would send down the same
Holy Spirit, to sanctify the fountain of baptism ; which
prayer wss afterwards left out, at the second review.—
By King Edward’s first book, the minister is to dip the
child in the water thrice ; first, dipping the right side ;
secondly, the left; the third time, dipping the face to¬
ward the foot. This trine immersion was a very _an-
• * dent
[ 378 ]
B A F [ 379 ] BAP
Baptism, cient practice in the Christian church, and used in ho-
u. vnour of the Holy Trinity j though some later writers
say, it was done to represent the death, burial, and re¬
surrection, of Christ, together with his three days con¬
tinuance in the grave. Afterwards, the Arians ma¬
king an ill use of it, by persuading the people that it
was used to denote that the three Persons in the Tri¬
nity were three distinct substances, the orthodox left it
off, and used only one single immersion.
By the first common-prayer of King Edward, after
the child was baptized, the godfathers and godmothers
were to lay their hands upon it, and the minister was
to put on him the white vestment commonly called the
chrysome, and to say, “ Take this white vesture, as a
token of the innocency, which, by God’s grace, in
this holy sacrament of baptism, is given unto thee ;
and for a sign, whereby thou ai’t admonished, so long as
thou livest, to give thyself to innocence of living, that
after this transitory life thou mayest be partaker of
the life everlasting. Amen.” As soon as he had pro¬
nounced these words, he was to anoint the infant on
the head, saying, “ Almighty God, the father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who hath regenerated thee by wa¬
ter and the Holy Ghost, and hath given unto thee re¬
mission of all thy sins; may he vouchsafe to anoint thee
with the unction of his Holy Spirit, and bring thee to
the inheritance of everlasting life. Amen.” This was
manifestly done in imitation of the practice of the pri¬
mitive church.
The custom of sprinkling children, instead of dip¬
ping them in the font, which at first was allowed in
case of the weakness or sickness of the infant, has so
far prevailed, that immersion is' at length quite exclu¬
ded. What principally tended to confirm the practice
of affusion or sprinkling, was, that several of our Pro¬
testant divines, flying into Germany and Switzerland
during the bloody reign of Queen Mary, and returning
home when Queen Elizabeth came to the crown,
brought back with them a great zeal for the Protestant
churches beyond sea, where they had been sheltered and
received ; and having observed, that at Geneva and some
other places, baptism was administered by sprinkling,
they thought they could not do the church of England
a greater piece of service than by introducing a practice
dictated by so great an oracle as Calvin. This, together
with the coldness of our northern climate, was what
„ contributed to banish entirely the practice of dipping
infants in the font.
otions Many different notions have been entertained con-
ncerning corning the effects of baptism, which it would be end-
bapUsm ^eSS t0 — Hie Remonstrants and Socinians
' reduce baptism to a mere sign of divine grace. The
Romanists, on the contrary, exalt its power •, hold¬
ing, that all sin is entirely taken away by it j that it
absolutely confers the grace of justification, and con¬
sequently grace ex opere operate. Some also speak of
an indelible character impressed on the soul by it, call¬
ed character dominicus, and character regius: but this
is held, by others, a mere chimera ; for that the spi¬
ritual character, conferred in regeneration, may easily
be effaced by mortal sins. Dodwell maintained, that
it is by baptism the soul is made immortal j so that
those who die without it will not rise again. It must
be added, he restrains this effect to episcopal baptism
alone. From the effects ordinarily ascribed to bap¬
tism, even by ancient writers, it should seem, that the Baptira.
ceremony is as much of heathen as Jewish origin ; -~-v—
since Christians do not restrain the use of it, like the
Jews, to the admission of new members into the church,
but hold, with the heathens, a virtue in it for remit¬
ting and washing away sins. The Bramins are still
said to baptize with this latter view, at certain sea¬
sons, in the river Ganges ; to the waters whereof they
have annexed a cleansing or sanctifying quality j and
hence it is that they flock from all parts, even of Tar¬
tary, driven by the expectation of their being eased
of their load of sins. But, in this point, many Chri¬
stians seem to have gone beyond the folly of the hea¬
thens. It was only the smaller sins of infirmity which
these latter held to be expiable by washing; for crimes
of a blacker dye, they allowed no water could efface
them, no purgation could discharge them. The Chri¬
stian doctrine of a total remission of sins by baptism
could not fail, therefore, to scandalize many among
the heathens, and furnished Julian an occasion of sati¬
rizing Christianity itself: “ Whoever (says he) is guilty
of rapes, murders, sacrilege, or any abominable crime,
let him be washed with water, and he will become pure
and holy.”
In the ancient church, baptism was frequently con¬
ferred on Jews by violence: but the church itself never
seems to have allowed of force on this occasion. By
a canon of the fourth council of Toledo, it is express¬
ly forbid to baptize any against their wills. That
which looks most like force in this case, allowed by
law, were two orders of Justinian; one of which ap¬
points the heathens, and the other Samaritans, to be
baptized, with their wfives and children and servants,
under pain ot confiscation. By the ancient laws, bap¬
tism was not to be conferred on image-makers, stage-
players, gladiators, aurigev or public drivers, magi¬
cians, or even strolling beggars, till they quitted such
professions. Slaves were not allowed the privilege of
baptism without the testimony and consent of their Bingham.
masters ; excepting the slaves of Jews, Heathens, and OWg-. Etcl.
heretics ; who were not only admitted to baptism, but,^e*S;
in consequencp thereof, had their freedom. Vossius^jj*
has a learned and elaborate vtorkDe Baptismo, where¬
in he accurately discusses all the questions concerning
baptism according to the doctrine of the ancients.
Baptism by Fire, spoken of by St John the Baptist,
has occasioned much conjecture. The generality of the
fathers held, that believers, before they enter paradise,
are to pass through a certain fire, which is to purify
them from all pollutions remaining on them unexpia¬
ted. Others, with St Basil, understand it of the fire
of hell ; others, of that of tribulation and temptation.
Others, with St Chrysostom, will have it denote an
abundance of gracesl Others suppose it to mean the
descent of the Holy Ghost on the apostles, in form of
fiery tongues. Lastly, others maintain, that the word
fire here is an interpolation ; and that we are only to
read the text, He that shall tome after me will baptize
you with the Holy Ghost. In reality, it is not found in
divers manuscript copies of St Matthew.
The ancient Selucians and Hermians, understand¬
ing the passage literally, maintained, that material fire
was necessary in the administration of baptism. But
we do not find how7 or to what part of the body they
applied’it, or whether they were satisfied%ith obliging
3*B 2 the
BAP [ 380 ] BAP
Baptism, the person baptized to pass through the fire. Valenti-
■y...- .1 * nus rebaptized all who had received water-baptism, and
conferred on them the baptism of fire.
Bis docuit tingi, traductoque corpore flamma.
Tertull. Carm. contr. Marc. 1. 1.
Heracleon, cited by Clemens Alexandrinus, says, that
some applied a red-hot iron to the ears of the person
baptized, as if to impress some mark upon him.
Baptism of the Dead) a custom which anciently pre¬
vailed among some people in Africa, of giving baptism
to the dead. The third council of Carthage speak of
it as a thing that ignorant Christians were fond of.
Gregory Nazianzen also takes notice of the same su¬
perstitious opinion prevailing among some who delay¬
ed to be baptized. In his address to this kind of men,
he asks, whether they stayed to be baptized after
death ? Philastrius also notes it as the general error of
the Montanists or Cataphrygians, that they baptized
men after death. The practice seems to be grounded
on a vain opinion, that, when men had neglected to
receive baptism in their life-time, some compensation
might be made for this default by receiving it after
death.
Baptism of the Dead was also a sort of vicarious
baptism, formerly in use, when a person dying without
baptism, another tvas baptized in his stead.
St Chrysostom tells us, this was practised among the
Marcionites with a great deal of ridiculous ceremony $
which he thus describes : After any catechumen was
dead, they hid a living man under the bed of the de¬
ceased ; then coming to the dead man, they asked him
whether he would receive baptism j and he making no
answer, the other answered for him, and said, he would
be baptized in his stead : and so they baptized the li¬
ving for the dead.
Epiphanius assures us, the like was also practised
among the Corinthians. This practice they pretended
to found on the Apostle’s authority ; alleging that text
of St Paul for it, If the dead rise not at all, what shall
they do who are baptized for the dead/* A text which
has given occasion to a great variety of different systems
and explications. Vossius enumerates no less than nine
different opinions among learned divines concerning the
sense of the phrase, being baptized for the dead.
St Ambrose and Walafred Strabo seem clearly of
opinion, that the apostle had respect to such a custom
then in being j and several moderns have given into
the same opinion, as Baronius, Jos. Scaliger "justellus,
and Grotius.
Several among the Koman Catholics, as Bellarmin,
Salmeron, Menochius, and a number of schoolmen,
understand it of the baptism of tears, and penance, and
prayers, which the living undergo for the dead 5 and
thus allege it as a proof of the belief of purgatory in
St Paul’s days.
Hypothetical Baptism, that formerly administered in
certain doubtful cases, with this formula : If thou art
baptized, I do not rebaptize ; if thou art not, I baptize
tliee in the name of the Father, &e. This sort of bap¬
tism, enjoined by some ancient constitutions of the Eng¬
lish church, is now fallen into disuse.
Solemn Baptism, that conferred at stated seasons ;
such, in the ancient church, were the Paschal baptism,
2
and that at Whitsuntide. This is sometimes also called Baptism
general baptism. ||
Lay Baptism, we find to have been permitted by baptismal, j
both the Common-prayer Books of King Edward and ,
that of Queen Elizabeth, when an infant is in imme¬
diate danger of death, and a lawful minister cannot be
had. This was founded upon the mistaken notion of
the impossibility of salvation without the sacrament of
baptism: but afterwards, when they came to have
clearer notions of the sacraments, it was unanimously
resolved in a convocation, held in the year 1575, that
even private baptism, in a case of necessity, was only
to be administered by a lawful minister.
Baptism is also applied, abusively, to certain cere¬
monies used in giving names to things inanimate.
The ancients knew nothing of the custom of giving
baptism to inanimate things, as bells, ships, and the
like, by a superstitious consecration of them. The first
notice we have of this is in the Capitulars of Charles
the Great, where it is only mentioned to be censured:
but, afterwards, it crept into the Roman offices by de¬
grees. Baronius carries its antiquity no higher than
the year 968, when the greatest bell of the church of
Lateran was christened by Pope John III. At last it
grew to that superstitious height, as to be thought pro¬
per to be complained of in the Centum Gravamina of
the German nation, drawn up in the public diet of the
empire held at Nuremberg otz/z© 1581 j where (after
having described the ceremony of baptizing a bell, with
godfathers, who make responses as in baptism, and give
it a name, and clothe it with a new garment as Christiana
were used to be clothed, and all this to make it capable
of driving away tempests and devils) they conclude
against it, as not only a superstitious practice, but con¬
trary to the Christian religion, and a mere seduction of
the simple people.
Baptism, in the sea language, a ceremony in long
voyages on board merchant ships, practised both on
persons and vessels who pass the tropic or line for the
first time. The baptizing the vessels is simple, and
consists only in washing them throughout with sea-wa¬
ter ; that of the passengers is more mysterious. The
oldest of the crew, that has past the tropic or line,
comes with his face blacked, a grotesque cap on his
head, and some sea-book in his hand, followed by the
rest of the seamen dressed like himself, each having
some kitchen utensil in his hand, with drums beating j
he places himself on a seat on the deck, at the foot of
the mainmast. At the tribunal of this mock magi¬
strate, each passenger, not yet initiated, swears he will
take care the same ceremony be observed, whenever he
is in the like circumstances : Then, by giving a little
money by way of gratification, he is discharged with
a little spx*inkling of water j otherwise he is heartily
drenched with streams of water poured upon him j and
the ship boys are enclosed in a cage, and ducked at dis¬
cretion.-— Ihe seamen, on the baptizing a ship, pretend
to a right of cutting off' the beak-head unless redeemed
by the captain.
BAPTISMAL, something belonging to baptism J
thus we say baptismal vow, presents, &c.
Baptismal Vow or Covenant, a profession of obedi¬
ence to the laws of Christ, which persons in the an¬
cient church made before baptism. It was an indis¬
pensable
fiaptists.
BAP [ 381
Baptismal pensable part of the obligation on catechumens before
11 they were admitted to the ceremony of regeneration.
, It was made by turning to the east $ for what mystical
reasons, is not well agreed on.
Baptismal Bresents are in use in Germany, made
by the sponsors to the infant, consisting of money,
plate, or even sometimes fiefs of lands ; which by the
laws of the country are to be kept for the child till of
age, the parents having only the trust, not the right, of
disposing of them. An anonymous author has published
a discourse express on this occasion, en\.i[\e<k,De pecunia
lustrica.
BAP BIST, John Monnoyer, a painter of flowers
and fruit, was born at Lisle in 1635, and educated at
* Antwerp, where he perfected himself in the knowledge
of his art, and in his first years was intended for a
painter of history : but having soon observed that his
genius more strongly inclined him to the painting of
flowers, he applied his talents to those subjects, and in
that style became one of the greatest masters. His
pictures are not so exquisitely finished as those of Van
Huysum, but his composition and colouring are in a
bolder style. His flowers have generally a remarkable
freedom and looseness, as well in the disposition as in
the penciling ; together with a tone of colouring that is
lively, admirable', and nature itself. The disposition of
his objects is surprisingly elegant and beautiful 5 and in
that respect his compositions are easily known, and as
easily distinguished from the performances of others.
He died in 1699*—He left a son, Anthony, who paint¬
ed flowers in the same style and manner, and had great
merit.
BAPTISTS, in ecclesiastical history, (from /SxTrh^a,
I baptize); a denomination of Christians, distinguished
from other Christians by their particular opinions re¬
specting the mode and the subjects of baptism.
Instead of administering the ordinance by sprinkling
or pouring water, they maintain that it ought to be
administered only by immersion. Such, they insist, is
the meaning of the word fixTirh^co; so that a command
to baptize is a command to immerse. Thus it was un¬
derstood by those who first administered it. John the
Baptist, and the apostles of Christ, administered it in
Jordan and other rivers and places where there was
much water. Both the administrators and the subjects
are described as going down into, and coming up again
out of, the water; and the baptized are said to be bu¬
ried in baptism, and to be raised again: which lan¬
guage could not, they say, be properly adopted on
supposition of the ordinance being administered in any
other manner than by immersion. Thus also, they af¬
firm, it was in general administered in the primitive
church. Thus it is now administered in the Russian
and Greek church : and thus it is, at this day, directed
to be administered in the church of England, to all
who are thought capable of submitting to it in this
manner. With regard to the subjects of baptism, the
Baptists say, that this ordinance ought not to be admi¬
nistered to children or infants at all, nor to grown up
persons in general j but to adults only of a certain cha¬
racter and description. Our Saviour’s commission to
his apostles, by which Christian baptism was institu¬
ted, is to go and teach all nations, baptizing them :
that is, say they, not to baptize all they meet with j
] BAP
but first to instruct them—to teach all nations, or to Baptists,
preach the gospel to every creature—and whoever re-
reives it, him to baptize in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. To such
persons, and to such only, baptism appears to have been
administered by the apostles, and the immediate dis¬
ciples of Christ. They are described as repenting of
their sins, as believing in Christ, and as having gladly
received the word. Without these qualifications, Pe¬
ter acquaints those who were converted by his sermon,
that he could not have admitted them to baptism.
Philip holds the same language in his discourse with,
the eunuch ; and Paul treats Lydia, the jailor, and
others, in the same manner. Without these qualifica¬
tions, Christians in general think it wrong to admit
persons to the Lord’s supper ; and, for the same rea¬
sons, without these qualifications, at least a profession
of them, the Baptists think it wrong to admit any to
baptism. Wherefore they withhold it, not only from
the impenitently vicious and profane, and from infidels
who have no faith j but also from infants and children,
who have no knowledge, and are incapable of every ac¬
tion civil and religious. They further insist, that all
positive institutions depend entirely upon the will and
declaration of the institutor : and therefore, that reason¬
ing by analogy from abrogated Jewish rites is to be re¬
jected, and the express commands of Christ respecting
the mode and subjects of baptism ought to be our only
rule.
The Baptists in England form one of the denomina¬
tions of Protestant dissenters. They separate from the
establishment for the same reasons as their breth ren of
the other denominations do $ and from additional mo¬
tives derived from their particular tenets respecting
baptism. Tire constitution of their churches, and their
modes of worship, are congregational or independent:
in the exercise of which they are protected, in com¬
mon with other dissenters, by the act of toleration.
Before this act, they were liable to pains and penalties
as nonconformists, and often for their peculiar senti¬
ments as Baptists. A proclamation wras issued out
against them, and some of them were burnt in Smith-
field in 1538. They bore a considerable share in the
persecutions of the last and of the preceding centuries ;
and, as it should seem, in those of some centuries be¬
fore j for there were several among the Lollards and
the followers of Wicklift, who disapproved of infant
baptism. There were many of this persuasion among
the Protestants and reformers abroad. In Holland,
Germany, and the North, they went by the names of
Anabaptists, and Mennonites ; and, in Piedmont
and the south, they were found among the Albigenses
and Waldenses. See the histories of the Reformation
and the above articles in this Dictionary.
The Baptists subsist under two denominations, viz. the
Barticular or Calvinistical, and the General or Armi-
nian. The former is by far the most numerous. Some
of both denominations allow of mixed communion, viz.
of persons who have been sprinkled in their infancy,
and therefore unbaptized in the view of the Baptists;
others disallow it; and some of them observe the seventh
day of the week as the Sabbath, apprehending the law
that enjoined it not to have been repealed by Christ or
his apostles. But a difference of opinion respecting these
and
BAR [ 382 ] BAR
and other matters, is not peculiar to the Baptists: it is
common to all Christians, and to ail bodies of men who
think and judge for themselves.
BATISTERY, in ecclesiastical writers, a place in
which the ceremony of baptism is performed.
In the ancient church it was one of the exedrse or
buildings distinct from the church itself: and consisted
of a porch or anti-room where the persons to be bap¬
tized made their confession of faith, and an inner room
where the ceremony of baptism was performed. Thus
it continued till the sixth century, when the baptiste¬
ries began to be taken into the church-porch, and af¬
terwards into the church itself.
The ancient baptisteries were commonly called (pon-
p/iotisterta, q. d. places of illumination ; an ap¬
pellation sometimes given to baptism. Or they might
have the name for another reason, because they were
the places of an illumination, or instruction, preceding
baptism : for here the catechumens seem to have been
trained up, and instructed in the first rudiments of the
Christian faith.
Those baptisteries were anciently very capacious :
because, as Dr Cave observes, the stated times of bap¬
tism retmning but seldom, there were usually great
multitudes to be baptized at the same time : and then
the manner of baptizing, by immersion, or dipping
under water, made it necessary to have a large font
likewise. In Venantius Fortzmatus, it is called aula
haptismatis, the large hall of baptism 5 which was in¬
deed so capacious, that we sometimes read of councils
meeting and sitting therein. This hall, or chapel, was
always kept shut during Lent, and the door sealed up
with the bishop’s seal, not to be opened till Maunday-
Thursday.
The baptistery was always reputed a sacred place.
In the Roman order, we find the ceremonies used in
the consecration of the baptisteries : they were to be
built of a round figure, and distinguished with the image
of St John the Baptist 5 over the bason or font was a
figure of a dove in gold or silver, to represent the Holy
Ghost.
I he name baptistery is sometimes also given to a
kind of chapel in a large church, which served for the
same office. It is an observation of some learned men,
that anciently there was but one baptistery in a city,
and that at the bishop’s church ; and that afterwards
they were set up in parish churches, with the special
allowance however of the bishop.
BAR, in a general sense, denotes a slender piece of
wood or iron, for keeping things close together.
Bar, in courts of justice, an enclosure made with a
:-trong partition of timber, where the counsel are placed
to plead causes. It is also applied to the benches
where the lawyers or advocates are seated, because an¬
ciently there was a bar to separate the pleaders from
the attorneys and others. Hence our lawyers who are
called to the bar, or licensed to plead, are termed bar-
nsters, an appellation' equivalent to licentiate in other
countries.
Bar, or Farr, (Latin barra, and in French barrel,
in a legal sense, is a plea or peremptorv exception of a
defendant, sufficient to destroy the plaintiff’s action.
Am it is divided into bar to common intendment, and
)ar special; bar temporary, and perpetual. Bar to a
common intendment is an ordinary or general bar, which
usually disableth the declaration of the plaintiff j bar
special is that which is more than ordinary, and falls out
upon some special circumstance of the fact as to the case
in hand. Bar temporary is such a bar as is good for tjie
present, but may afterwards fail 5 and bar perpetual is
that which overthrows the action of the plaintiff for
ever.
Bar, in Heraldry, an ordinary in form of the fess
but much less. See Heraldry.
Bar, in the manege, the highest part of that place
of a horse’s mouth situated between the grinders and
tushes, so that the part of the mouth which lies under
and at the side of the bars retains the name of the gum.
A horse with sensible bars has a fine light mouth, with
an even and firm appui. See Appui.
To Bar a Vein, in Farriery, is an operation per¬
formed upon the veins of the legs of a horse and other
parts, with intent to stop the malignant humours. It is
done by opening the skin above it, disengaging it, and
tying it both above and below, and striking between
the two ligatures.
Bar, in Music, a stroke drawn perpendicularly a-
cross the lines of a piece of music, including between
each two a certain quantity or measure of time, which
is various as the' time of the music is either triple or
common. In common time, between'’each two bars is
included the measure of four crotchets $ in triple,
three. The principal use of bars is to regulate the
beating of time in a concert. The use of bars is not
to be traced higher than the time when the English
translation of Adrian le Roy’s book on the Tablature
was published, viz. the year 15745 and it was some
time after that before the use of bars became general.
To come nearer to the point, Barnard’s cathedral mu¬
sic, printed in 1641, is without bars 5 but bars are to
be found throughout in the Ayres and Dialogues of
Henry Lawes published in 1653 ; from whence it may
be conjectured that we owe to Lawes this improve¬
ment.
Bar, in Hydrography, denotes a bank of sand, or
other matter, whereby the mouth of a river is in a
manner choked up.
The term bar is also used for a strong beam where¬
with the entrance of a harbour is secured : this is more
commonly called boom.
Bar of a tavern- or coffeehouse, the place where the
waiters attend to answer the calls of the customers.
Bar, among printers, denotes a piece of iron with a
wooden handle, whereby the screw of the press is turn¬
ed in printing. See Printing.
Bars of Iron, are made of the metal of the sows
and pigs as they come from the furnace. These pass
through two forges, called the finery and the chaufery;
where, undergoing five several heats, they are formed
into bars.
Bar, a very strong city of Podolia in Poland, upon
the river Kiow. E. Long. 28. 30. N. Lat. 50. 6.
Bar, formerly a duchy of France, now the depart¬
ment of Meuse, is bounded on the east by Lorrain,
on the north by Luxembourg, on the west by Cham-
pagne, en the south by part of the same country, and
by Francbe Compte. It is crossed by the river Meuse
from north to south, and watered by several other
rivers, which render it very fertile. It was divided
into four balliages, viz. Bassilyni, Bar, St Michael,
Bar
Bara.
BAR [ 3
ami Clermont. The chief towns are Bar-le-duc, Cler¬
mont, St Michael, Longuey, Pont a Mousson, and
Stenay. In 1736, it was given to Stanislaus then king
of Poland.
Bar le-di/c, the capital of the late duchy of Bar, in
the department of Meuse, is seated on the declivity of
a hill. It is divided into the higher and lower town :
the lower is watered by the rivulet Qrney, which a-
bounds with excellent {routs. The wines are excellent,
and not inferior to those of Champagne. E. Long. 5. 30.
N. Lat. 48. 35.
BAR-le-Mont, a town of France, in the department
of the North, situated on the river Sambre. E. Long.
3. 40. N. Lat. 50. 10.
Bar sur Aube, an ancient town of France, in the de¬
partment of Aube, seated at the foot of a mountain.
It is much celebrated for excellent wines. E. Long.
4. 50. N. Lat. 48. 14.
Bar sur Seine, a town of France, in the duchy of
Burgundy, now in the department of Aube, seated be¬
tween a mountain which covers it on the west, and the
river Seine which runs on the east. E. Long. 4. 30.
N. Lat. 48. 5.
BAR-Master, among miners, the person who keeps
the gauge, or dish, for measuring the ore.
BABA, in Ancient Geography, a small island in the
Adriatic, opposite to Brundusium : the Pharos of Mela.
Also a frith or arm of the sea of Britannia Secunda
(Ptolemy) ; supposed to be the Murray frith.
Bara, one of the Hebrides or Western islands of
Scotland. It is a small rock, only a quarter of a mile
in circumference, being part of a chain called the Long
Island, the whole cluster appearing at low water as one
island. Bara is altogether barren \ but abounds with
great numbers of sea-fowl, such as solan geese, guilla-
motes, puffins, &c.
Bara, the name of a festival celebrated with much
magnificence at Messina, and representing the assump¬
tion of the Virgin. The bara, though used as the ge¬
neral denomination of this festival, signifies more parti¬
cularly a vast machine 50 feet high, at the top of which
a young girl of 14, representing the Virgin, stands up¬
on the hand of an image of Jesus Christ.
Bound him turn vertically, in a circle, 12 little chil-
rePresent the seraphims ; below them, in
t'nigh Si- ano^ier circle, which turns horizontally, are I 2 more
fl’.&c. representing the cherubims : below these a sun turns
lid's
vertically, with a child at the extremity of each of the
four principal radii of his circle, who ascend and de¬
scend with his rotation, yet still stand upright. Be¬
low the sun is the lowest circle, about seven feet from
the ground, in which 12 boys turn horizontally with¬
out interruption j these are intended for the twelve
apostles, who are supposed to surround the tomb of
the Virgin at the moment when she ascends into hea¬
ven. This complication of superstitious whirligigs rnwy
have already nearly turned the stomachs of some of our
readers, or at least rendered them squeamish. But
think of the poor little cherubims, seraphims, and apo¬
stles, who are twirled about in this procession ! for, says
Mr Houel, some of them fall asleep, many of them
vomit, and several do still worse : but these unseemly
effusions are no drawback upon the edification of the
people; and nothing is more common than to see fa¬
thers and mothers soliciting with ardour for their bovs
33 ] BAR
and girls the pious distinction of puking at the bara.
1 ins machine is not drawn by asses or mules, but by a
multitude of robust monks.
BABABINZIANS, a tribe of Tartars, living on
both sides ol the river Irtis. They seem to derive their
name from the Barubaian desert, whose lakes supply
them abundantly with fish, on which and their cattle
they chiefly subsist. They have plenty of game and
wild fowl of every kind, particularly ducks and puf¬
fins. Most of them are heathens, but Mahometanism
daily gains ground among them. Some of them pay
tribute to the empress of Bussia, and others to the
Khan Taisha.
BABACOA, a town in the north east part of the
island of Cuba. W. Long. 74. 50. N. Lat. 20. 25.
BABALIPTON, among logicians, a term denoting
the first indirect mode of the first figure of syllogism. A
syllogism in baralipton, is when the two first propositions
are general, and the third particular, the middle term
being the subject in the first proposition and the predi¬
cate in the second. The following is of this kind.
Ba. E very evil ought to be feared ;
RA. Every violent passion is an evil ;
lip. Therefore something that ought to be feared
is a violent passion.
BABALLOTS, in Church History, a sect of here¬
tics at Bologna in Italy, who had all things in common,
even their wives and children. Their facility in com¬
plying with all manner of debauchery made them get
the name obedientes, “ compliers.”
BABANCA DE malambo, a town of Terra Firma
in America, with a bishop’s see and a good haven. It
is a place of great trade, and is seated on the river Mag-
daline. W. Long. 75. 30. N. Lat. 11. 10.
BABANGI, officers among the Greeks of the lower
empire. Cujas calls them in Latin protectores, and
others give them the name of securigeri. It was their
business to keep the keys of the city gates, where the
emperor resided.
BABANWAHB, a town of Lower Hungary, in
a county of the same name, taken by the emperor of
Germany from the Turks in 1684. ft *s seated be¬
tween Buda and Belgrade, in E. Long. 18. 5. N. Lat.
46. 0.*'
BABATHBUM, in antiquity, a deep dark pit at
Athens, into which condemned persons were cast head¬
long. It had sharp spikes at the top, that no man
might escape out; and others at the bottom, to pierce
and torment such as were cast in. Its depth and ca¬
paciousness made it to be applied proverbially to a co¬
vetous person : to a glutton, called Barathro by the
Bomans (Lucretius, Horace) ; and Barathrum in the
same sense (Horace); and for a common, prostitute
(Plautus).
BABATIEBE, Philip, a most extraordinary in¬
stance of the early and rapid exertion of mental facul¬
ties. 7’his surprising genius was the son of Francis
Baratiere, minister of the French church at Schwobach
near Nuremberg, where he was born Jan. 10. 1721.
The French was his mother tongue, together with some
words of High Hutch ; but by means of his father
insensibly talking Latin to him, it became as familiar, to
him as the rest: so that, without knowing the rules of
grammar, he at four years of age talked French to his
mother, .
BAR [ 384 ] BAR
Baratiere, mother, Latin to his father, High Dutch to the maid
Baiatz. or neighbouring children ; and all this without mixing
or confounding the respective languages. About the
middle of his fifth year he acquired Greek in like man¬
ner j so that in 15 months he perfectly understood all
the Greek books in the Old and New Testament,
which he readily translated into Latin. When he was
five years and eight months old, he entered upon He¬
brew ; and in three years time was so expert in the He¬
brew text, that from a bible without points, he could
give the sense of the original in Latin or French ; or
translate extempore the Latin or irench versions into
Hebrew, almost word for word ; and had all the He¬
brew psalms by heart. He composed at this time a
dictionary of rare and difficult Hebrew words, with
critical remarks and philological observations, in about
400 pages in 4to ; and, about his tenth year, amused
himself for twelve months with the Rabbinical wri¬
ters. With these he intermixed a knowledge of the
Chaldaic, Syriac, and Arabic ; and acquired a taste
for divinity and ecclesiastical antiquity, by studying
the Greek fathers, and councils of the first four ages
of the church. In the midst of these occupations, a
pair of globes coming into his possession, he could in
8 or 10 days time resolve all the problems on them 5 and
in about three months, in Jan. 1735, devised his pro¬
ject for the discovery of the longitude, which he com¬
municated to the Royal Society at London and the
Royal Academy of Sciences at Berlin. In June 1731,
he was matriculated in the university of Altorf j and at
the close of the year 1732, he was presented by his fa¬
ther at the meeting of the reformed churches of the
circle of Franconia 5 who, astonished at his wonderful
talents, admitted him to assist in the deliberations of
the synod j and to preserve the memory of so singular
an event, it was ordered to be registered in their acts.
In 1734, the margrave of Brandenburg Anspach grant¬
ed this young scholar the use of whatever books he
wanted from the Anspach library, together with a
pension of 50 florins, which he enjoyed three years ;
and his father receiving a call from the French church
at Stetin in Pomerania, young Baratiere was, on the
journey, admitted master of arts, with universal ap¬
plause, at the university of Hall: at Berlin he was ho¬
noured with several conversations with the king of Prus¬
sia, and was received into the Royal Academy. To¬
wards the close of his life he acquired a taste for me¬
dals, inscriptions, and antiquities j metaphysical inqui¬
ries, and experimental philosophy, intervening occasi¬
onally between these studies. He wrote several essays
and dissertations $ made astronomical remarks, and la¬
borious calculations; took great pains toward a history
of the heresies of the anti-trinitarians, and of the 30
years war in Germany: his last publication, which ap¬
peared in 1740, was on the succession of the bishops of
Rome. The final work he engaged in, and for which
he had gathered large materials, was Inquiries concern¬
ing the Egyptian Antiquities. But the substance of this
blazing meteor was now almost exhausted: he was al¬
ways weak and sickly j and died October 5. 1740, aged
19 years 8 months and 16 days. He published 11 dif¬
ferent pieces, and left 29 manuscripts on various sub¬
jects, the contents of which may be seen in his life writ¬
ten by M. Formey professor of philosophy at Berlin.
BARATZ, (Turkish'), letters-patent granted by
the Turkish emperors to the Greek patriarch, bishops, jjarat?
&c. for the exercise of their ecclesiastical functions. [j
This Baratz gives the bishops full power and authori- Barbadoei.
ty to establish and depose the inferior clergy, and ail
other religious persons; to grant licenses for marriages,
and issue out divorces ; to collect the revenues belong¬
ing to the churches ; to receive the pious legacies be¬
queathed to them ; in short, to enjoy all the privileges
and advantages belonging to their high station ; and
all this (as it is expressed in the baratz itself) “ ac¬
cording to the vain and idle ceremonies of the Chri¬
stians.”
BARB, or Barbe, a horse brought from Barbary.
See Equits, Mammalia Index.
BARBA, in Botany, a species of pubes, or down,
with which the surface of some plants is covered. The
term was invented by Linnaeus; and by its application
in the Species Plant arum, seems to signify a tuft or
bunch of strong hairs terminating the leaves. Mesem-
bryanthemum barbatum furnishes an example.
The word is also often used in composition with some
other, to form the trivial names of several plants, as
barba jovis, barba caprce, &c.
BARBACAN, or Barbican, an outer defence or
fortification to a city or castle, used especially as a
fence to the city or walls; also an aperture made in
the wall of a fortress, to fire through upon the enemy.
See Castle.
Barbacan is also used to denote a fort at the en¬
trance of a bridge, or the outlet of a city, having a
double wall with towers.
BARBADOES, the most easterly of all the Carib-
bee islands, subject to Great Britain, and according to
the best geographers, lying between 590 50' and 6o° 2^
of west longitude, and between 120 56' and 130 16' of
north latitude. It lies 20 leagues east from St Vin¬
cent, which may be seen in a clear day. It is 21 miles
in length and 14 in breadth; but these mensurations
are subject to so many uncertainties, that it will per¬
haps convey a moi’e adequate idea of this island, to
tell the reader that in reality it does not contain
above 107,000 acres. The climate is hot, but not un¬
wholesome, the heat being qualified by sea-breezes;
and a temperate regimen renders this island as safe to
live in as any climate south of Great Britain ; and,
according to the opinion of many, as even Great Bri¬
tain itself. The island has on its east side two streams
that are called rivers, and in the middle is said to have
a bituminous spring which sends forth a liquor like
tar, which serves for the same uses as pitch or lamp-
oil. The island abounds in wells of good water, and
has several reservoirs for rain-water. Some parts
of the soil are said to be hollowed into caves, some of
them capable of containing 300 people. These are
imagined to have been the lurking-places of runaway
negroes, but may as probably be natural excavations.
The woods that formerly grew upon the island have
been all cut down, and the ground converted into
sugar plantations. When those plantations were first
formed, the soil -was prodigiously fertile, but has since
been worn out, insomuch, that about the year 1730,
the planters were obliged to raise cattle for the sake of
their dung, by which means the profit of their planta¬
tions was reduced to less than a tenth of its usual value.
Notwithstanding the smallness of Barbadoes, its soil is
different';
BAR r 385 ] BAR
lurbadoes. different; being in some places sandy and light, in
.—r*—' others rich, and in others spongy ; but all of it is culti¬
vated according to its proper nature, so that the island
presents to the eye the most beautiful appearance that
can be imagined. Oranges and lemons grow in Bar-
badoes in great plenty, and in their utmost perfection.
The lemon juice here has a peculiar fragrancy. The
citrons of Barbadoes afford the best drams and sweet¬
meats of any in the world, the Barhadoes ladies excel¬
ling in the art of preserving the rind of the citron
fruit. The juice of the limes, or dwarf-lemons, is the
most agreeable souring we know, and great quantities
of it have of late been imported into Britain and Ire¬
land. The pine apple is also a native of Barbadoes,
and grows there to much greater perfection than it can
be made to do in Europe by any artificial means. A
vast number of different trees peculiar to the climate are
also found to flourish in Barbadoes in great perfection $
such as the aloe, mangrove, calabash, cedar, cotton,
mastich, 8tc. Here likewise are produced some sensi¬
tive plants, with a good deal of garden stuff, which is
common in other places. In short, a native of the finest,
the richest, and most diversified country in Europe, can
hardly form an idea of the variety of delicious and at
the same time nutritive vegetable productions with
which this island abounds.
When Barbadoes was first discovered by the English,
few or no quadrupeds were found upon it, except hogs,
which had been left there by the Portuguese. For con¬
venience of carriage to the sea side, some of the planters
at first procured camels 5 which undoubtedly would in
all respects have been preferable to horses for their su¬
gar and other works j but the nature of the climate
disagreeing with that animal, it was found impossible
to preserve the breed. They then applied for horses
to Old and New England : from the former they had
those that were fit for show and draught j from the
latter those that were proper for mounting their mi¬
litia, and for the saddle. They had likewise some of
an inferior breed from Curassoa, and other settle¬
ments. 1 hey are reported to have had their first
breed of black cattle from Bonavista and the isle of
Mayo; they now breed upon the island, and often
do the work of horses. Their asses are very ser¬
viceable in carrying burdens to and from the planta¬
tions. The hogs of Barbadoes are finer eating than
those of Britain, but the few sheep they have are not
rear so good. They likewise have goats, which when
young are excellent food. Racoons and monkeys are
also found here in great abundance. A variety of birds
are produced in Barbadoes, of which the humming
bird is the most remarkable. Wild fowl do not often
frequent this island : but sometimes teal are found near
their ponds. A bird which they call the man of war,
is said to meet ships at 20 leagues from land, and their
return is, to the inhabitants, a sure sign of the arrival
of these ships. When the wind blows from the south
and south-west, they have flocks of curlews, plovers,
snipes, wild pigeons, and wild ducks. The wild pi¬
geons are very fat and plentiful at such seasons, and
rather larger than those of England. The tame pi¬
geons, pullets, ducks, and poultry of all kinds, that
are bred at Barbadoes, have also a fine flavour, and are
accounted more delicious than those of Europe. Their
rabbits are scarce; they have no hares; and if they
Vol. III. Part I. ’I
have deer of any kind, they are kept as curiosities. Barbadoes,
I he insects of Barbadoes are not venomous, nor do ei- —-v—
ther their snakes or scorpions ever sting. The mu-
sketoes are troublesome, and bite, but are more tole¬
rable in Barbadoes than on the continent. Various
other insects are found on the island, some of which
are troublesome, but in no greater degree than those
that are produced by every warm summer in England.
Barbadoes is well supplied with fish ; and some caught
in the sea surrounding it are almost peculiar to itself j
such as the parrot-fish, snappers, gray cavallos, terbums,
and coney-fish. The mullets, lobsters, and crabs,
caught here are excellent ; and the green turtle is per¬
haps the greatest delicacy that ancient or modern lux¬
ury can boast of. At Barbadoes this delicious shell¬
fish seldom sells for less than a shilling a pound, and
olten for more. There is found in this island a kind
of land crab, which eats herbs wherever it can find
them, and shelters itself in houses and hollows of trees.
According to report, they are a shell-fish of passage ;
for in March they travel to the sea in threat numbers.
See Cancer.
> The inhabitants may be reduced to three classes j
viz. the masters, the white servants, and the blacks.
The former are either English, Scots, or Irish: but
the great encouragement given by government to the
peopling this and other West Indian islands, induced
some Dutch, French, Portuguese, and Jews, to settle
among them with their estates ; by which, after a cer¬
tain time, they acquire the rights of naturalization in
Great Britain. The white servants, whether by cove¬
nant or purchase, lead more easy lives than the day-
labourers in England 5 and when they come to be over¬
seers, their wages and other allowances are considerable.
As to the treatment of the negro slaves in this and
the other islands, that falls to be spoken of under the
articles Negro, Slave, West-Indies j which see.
The manners of the white inhabitants, in general, are
the same as in most polite towns and countries in Eu¬
rope. The capital of the island is called Bridge-Town ;
see that article.
As the history of this island furnishes no very remark¬
able events, the following short hints concerning it may
suffice.
When the English, some time after the year 1625,
first landed here, they found it the most savage and
destitute place they had hitherto visited. It had not
the least appearance of ever having been peopled even
by savages. There was no kind of beasts of pasture
or of prey, no fruit, no herb, no root fit for support¬
ing the life of man. Yet as the climate was so good,
and the soil appeared fertile, some gentlemen of small
fortune in England resolved to become adventurers
thither. The trees were so large, and of a wood so
hard and stubborn, that it was with great difficulty they
could clear as much ground as was necessary for their
subsistence. By unremitting perseverance, however,
they brought it to yield them a tolerable support j and
they found that cotton and indigo agreed well with
the soil $ and that tobacco, which was beginning to
come into repute in England, answered tolerably.
These prospects, together with the storm between the
king and parliament, which was beginning to break
out in England, induced many new adventurers to
transport themselves into this island. And what is ex-
3 C tremely
BAR [ 386 ] BAR
Barbadoes tremely remarkable, so great was the increase of people
H in Barbadoes, 25 years after its first settlement, that
Barbarossa.;n Tg^0 jt contained more than 50,000 whites, and a
L-—-v—1 muci, greater number ol negro and Indian slaves. I he
latter they acquired by means not at all to their ho¬
nour : for they seized upon all those unhappy men,
without any pretence, in the neighbouring islands, and
carried them into slavery j a practice which has ren¬
dered the Caribbee Indians irreconcilable to us ever
since. They had begun a little before this to cultivate
sugar, which soon rendered them extremely wealthy.
The number of slaves, therefore, was still augmented 5
and in 1676 it is supposed that their number amount¬
ed to J 00,000, which, together with 50,00c whites,
make 150,00000 this small spot: a degree of popu¬
lation unknown in Holland, in China, or any other
part of the world most renowned for numbers. Their
annual exports, in sugar, indigo, ginger, cotton, and
citron-water, wei’e above 350,000!. and their circula¬
ting cash at home was 200,000!. Such was the in¬
crease of population, trade, and wealth, in the course
of 50 years. But these accounts are supposed by Mr
Bryan Edwards to be greatly exaggerated. But since
that time this island has been much on the decline j
which is to be attributed partly to the growth of the
French sugar colonies, and partly to their own esta¬
blishments in the neighbouring isles. Their numbers
in 1811 were 16,289 whites, 62,258 slaves, and 3392
free persons of colour. The official value of the
exports in 1810 was 271,597!. and of the imports
311,400!.
BARBADOES-Tar, a mineral fluid of the nature of
the thicker fluid bitumens, of a nauseous bitterish taste,
very strong and disagreeable smell, found in many parts
of America trickling down the sides of the mountains,
and sometimes floating on the surface of the waters. It
has been greatly recommended in coughs and other dis¬
orders of the breast and lungs.
BARBARA, among logicians, the first mode of the
first figure of syllogisms. A syllogism in barbara is one
whereof all the propositions are universal and affirma¬
tive 5 the middle term being the subject of the first
proposition, and attribute in the second.
Examp. Bar. Every wicked man is miserable j
Ba. All tyrants are wicked men j
Ra. Therefore all tyrants are miserable.
BARBARIAN, a name given by the ancient
Greeks and Romans to all who were not of their own
country, or were not initiated in their language, man¬
ners, and customs. In this sense, the word signified
with them no more than foreigner •, not signifying, as
among us, a wild, rude, or uncivilized person.
BARBARISM, in a general sense, a rudeness of
language or behaviour.
Barbarism, in Grammar, an offence against the
purity ot style or language ; or an ungrammatical way
of speaking or waiting, contrary to the true idiom of
any particular language.
BARBAROSSA, Aruch* and Hayradin, two
famous corsairs, the sons of a potter in the isle of Les¬
bos j who, turning pirates, carried on their depreda¬
tions with such success and conduct, that they were
soon possessed of 12 galleys besides smaller vessels. Of
this fleet Aruclx the elder brother, called Barbarossa
3,
from the redness of his beard, was admiral, and Hay- Barbwoss
radin the second in command : they called themselves Baibarus.
the friends of the sea, and the enemies of all who sailed '-“"“v—
upon it; and their names became terrible from the
straits of Dardanelles to those of Gibraltar. With such
a power they wanted an establishment", and the oppor¬
tunity of settling themselves oftered in 1516, by the
inconsiderate application of Eutemi king of Algiers to
them for assistance against the Spaniards. Aruch, leav¬
ing his brother to command the fleet, carried 5000
men to Algiers, where he was received as their deli¬
verer j and secretly murdering the prince he came to
aid, caused himself to be proclaimed king in his stead.
To this usurpation he added the conquest of Treme-
cen j when his exploits and piracies induced the em¬
peror Charles V. to furnish the marquis de Gomarez,
governor of Oran, with troops to suppress him ; by
whom he was defeated and killed near Tremecen. His
brother Hayradin, known also by the name of Barba-
rossa, assumed the sceptre at Algiers with the same abi¬
lities, and with better fortune ; for the Spaniards, suf¬
ficiently employed in Europe, giving him no disturb¬
ance, he regulated the interior police of his kingdom
with great prudence, carried on his naval operations
with vigour, and extended his conquests on the conti¬
nent of Africa. He put his dominions under the pro¬
tection of the Grand Signior, Solyman the Magnifi¬
cent j and obtained the command of the Turkish fleet.
With so powerful a protector, he acquired the kingdom
of T unis in a manner similar to that by which his bro¬
ther gained Algiers. Since the time of the Barbarossas,
Algiers has been understood to be dependent on the
Porte ; but this dependence is now little more than
merely nominal.
BARBARUS, Francis, a noble Venetian, was a
man of great fame in the 15th centurv, not only for
learning, but likewise for a skilful address in the ma¬
nagement of public affairs. He is author of a book De
Be Uxona, and some speeches.
Barbarus, Hermolaus, grandson of the preceding,
one of the most learned men in the 15th century. The
public employments he was intrusted with early, did not
prevent him from cultivating polite learning with great
application. As he was very skilful in the Greek, he
undertook the most difficult translations, and began with
a famous paraphrase upon Aristotle. He then attempt¬
ed Dioscorides, whose text he corrected, gave a transla¬
tion of him, and added a commentary. But of all his
works, there is none which has gained him so much re¬
putation as that which he made upon Pliny j he cor¬
rected in him above 5000 passages, and occasionally re¬
stored 300 in Pomponius Mela. Pope Innocent VIII.
to whom he was ambassador, conferred the patriarchate
of Aquileia upon him. He was so imprudent as to ac¬
cept of it without waiting for the consent of his supe¬
riors ; though he could not be ignorant that the repub¬
lic of Venice had made laws to forbid all the ministers
they sent to the court of Rome to accept any benefice.
His superiors were inflexible j and not being able to
gain any thing upon them either by his flattery or his
father’s interest, the father died of grief, and the son
soon followed him.
Barbarus, Daniel, of the same family with the
preceding, was patriarch of Aquileia, and famous for
his learning. He was ambassador from Venice to Eng¬
land ;
B A K
X
xtent,
c.
lienee
med.
Barbaras, land j and was one of the fathers of the council of Trent,
Barbary. where he acted with great zeal for the interest of the
pope. He wrote, I. A commentary on Vitruvius.
2. Catena Grcecorum Patrum in quinquaginta Psalmos
I, at me Versa. 3. La Pratica della Perspectiva. He
died in 1569, at 41 years of age,
BARBA RY, a region of Africa, including the states
of Algiers, Morocco, Tripoli, and Tunis; (see those
articles). This country contains almost the whole of
what the Romans possessed of the continent of Africa,
excepting Egypt. It stretches itself in length from
east to west, beginning at the southern limits of Egypt,
to the straits of Gibraltar, full 35 degrees of longi¬
tude j and from thence to Santa Cruz, the utmost west¬
ern edge of it, about six more, in all 41 degrees; so
that the utmost length of Barbary from east to west is
computed at above 759 German leagues. On the south,
indeed, it is confined within much narrower bounds, ex¬
tending no farther than from 27 to 35I- degrees of north
latitude; so that its utmost breadth, from north to south j
does not exceed 128 German miles. More particular¬
ly, Barbary begins on the west of the famed Mount
Atlas, called by the Arabs Ay Duacal, or Al Duacal,
enclosing the ancient kingdoms of Suez and Dela, now
provinces of Morocco; thence stretching north-east¬
ward along the Atlantic to the pillars of Hercules at
Cape Finisterre, then along the coast of the Mediter¬
ranean, it is at last bounded by the city of Alexandria
in Egypt.
Concerning the origin of the name Barbary, there
are many conjectures. According to some, the Ro¬
mans, after they had conquered this large country,
gave it that name out of contempt and dislike to the
barbarous manners of the natives, according to their
custom of calling all other people but themselves Bar¬
barians. Marmol, on the contrary, derives the word
Barbary from Berber, a name which the Arabs gave
to its ancient inhabitants, and which they retain to
this day in many parts of the country, especially along
the great ridge of the mountains of Atlas ; and which
name was given them on account of the barrenness of
their country. According to Leo Africanus, the name
of Barbary was given by the Arabs on account of the
strange language of the natives, which appeared to
them more like a murmur or grumbling of some brute
animals than articulate sounds. Others, however, de¬
rive it from the Arabic word bar, signifying a desert,
twice repeated ; which was given by one Ifric, or A-
fricus, a king of Arabia, from whom the whole conti¬
nent of Africa is pretended to have taken its name.
According to them, this king being driven out of his
own dominions, and closely pursued by his enemies,
some of his retinue called out to him Bar, Bar ; that
is, To the desert, To the desert; from which the coun¬
try was afterwards called Barbary.
Among the Romans this country was divided into
the provinces of Mauritania, Africa Propria, &c. and
they continued absolute masters of it from the time of
Julius Caesar till the year of Christ 428. At that time
Bonifacius the Roman governor of these provinces,
4 having through the treachery of iEtius been forced to
® ifacius revolt, called in to his assistance Genseric king of the
X1" the Vandals, who had been some time settled in Spain.
as> The terms offered, according to Procopius, were, that
Genseric should have two thirds, and Bonifacius one
[ 38? ]
BAB
Siect to
d Ho.
4 is.
third, of Africa, provided they could maintain them- Barbary.
selves against the Roman power; and to accomplish''•—"v '
this they were to assist each other to the utmost.—This
proposal was instantly complied with ; and Genseric set
sail from Spain in May 428, with an army of 80,000
men, according to some, or only 24,000 according to
others, together with their wives, children, and all their
effects. In the mean time, however, the empress Pla-
cidia having discovered the true cause of Bonifacius’s
revolt, wrote a most kind and obliging letter to h'm, in
which she assured him of her favour and protection for
the future, exhorting him to return to his duty, and ex¬
ert his usual zeal for the welfare of the empire, by dri¬
ving out the Barbarians whom the malice of his ene¬
mies had obliged him to call in for his own safety and
preservation. s
Bonifacius readily complied with this request, and Endea-
oftered the Vandals considerable sums if they wouldvours un¬
retire out of Africa and return to Spain. But Gense-
ric, already master of the greatest part of the country, themto^e-
first returned a scoffing answer, and then, falling unex- turn,
pectedly on him, cut most of his men to pieces, and
obliged Bonifacius himself to fly to Hippo, which place
he invested in May 430. The siege lasted till the
month of July the following year; when the Vandals
were forced, by a famine that began to rage in their
camp, to drop the enterprise, and retire. Soon after,
Bonifacius having received two reinforcements, one
from Rome, and the other under the conduct of the
celebrated Aspar, from Constantinople, a resolution
was taken by the Roman generals to offer the enemy 5
battle. The Vandals readily accepting the challenge, Romani
a bloody engagement ensued, in which the Romans were defeated by
utterly defeated, a prodigious number of them taken, J^^of'the
and the rest obliged to shelter themselves among the Vandals/
rocks and mountains. Aspar, who commanded the
eastern troops, escaped with difficulty to Constanti¬
nople, and Bonifacius was recalled to Italy. Upon
their departure, the Vandals overran all Africa, com¬
mitting everywhere the most terrible ravages; which
struck the inhabitants of Hippo with such terror, that
they abandoned their city, which was first plundered,
and then set on fire by the victorious enemy; so that
Cirtha and Carthage were now the only strong places
possessed by the Romans. y
In 435, Genseric, probably being afraid of an at-Peace coa-
tack by the united forces of the eastern and western cluded with
empires, concluded a peace with the Romans, 'vho^sVa11'
yielded to him part of Numidia, the province of Pro- d S‘
consularis, and likewise Byzancene ; for which, accord¬
ing to Prosper, he was to pay a yearly tribute to the
emperor of the east. Genseric delivered up his son
Hunneric by way of hostage ; but so great was the con¬
fidence which the Romans placed in this barbarian, that
some time after they sent him back his son. Of this
they soon had reason to repent ; for in 439, the Ro¬
mans being engaged in a war with the Goths in Gaul, s
Genseric laid hold of that opportunity to seize upon the Genseric’s
city of Carthage ; by which he considerably enlarged treac^ei7’
his African dominions. Valentinian, the Roman em¬
peror, however, maintained as long as he lived the two
Mauritanias, with Tripolitana, Tingitana, and that part
of Numidia where Cirtha stood.
On the taking of Carthage, Genseric made it the
seat of his empire ; and in 440 made a descent on the
3 ^ 2 island
BAR
[ 388 ]
BAR
Barbary.
9
Makes
himself
master of
all the Ro¬
man pro¬
vinces.
10
Defeated
by Ricimer
and Majo-
rianus.
It
Genseric
defeats the
eastern em¬
peror’s
fleet.
island of Sicily, where he ravaged the open country,
and even laid siege to Palermo. Not being able, how¬
ever, to reduce that place, he soon returned to Africa
with an immense booty and a vast number of captives.
Being now become formidable to both empires, Theo¬
dosius emperor of the east resolved to assist Valentinian
against so powerful an enemy. Accordingly, he fitted
out a fleet consisting of 1100 large ships ; and putting
on board of it the flower of his army, under the conduct
of Arcovindas, Ansilas, and Germanus, he ordered them
to land in Africa, and joining the western forces there,
to drive Genseric out of the countries he had seized.
But Genseric in the mean time pretending a desire to
be reconciled with both empires, amused the Roman ge¬
neral with proposals .for peace, till the season for action
was over $ and, next year, Theodosius being obliged to
recal bis forces to oppose the Huns, Valentinian found
it necessary to conclude a peace with the Vandals j and
this he could obtain on no other terms than yielding to
them the quiet possession of the countries they had
seized.
So powerful was Genseric now become, or rather
so low was the Roman empire by this time reduced,
that in 455 he took and plundered the city of Rome
itself, as is fully related under the article Rome $ and,
after his return to Africa, made himself master of the
remaining countries held by the Roman* in that part
of the world. Hereupon Avitus, who had succeeded
Valentinian in the empire, despatched ambassadors to
Genseric, putting him in mind of the treaty he had
concluded with the empire in 442 j and threatening, if
he did not observe the articles at that time agreed up¬
on, to make war upon him not only with his own for¬
ces, but with those of his allies the Vesigoths, who
were ready to pass over into Africa. To this Genseric
was so far from paying any regard, that he immediate¬
ly put to sea with a fleet of 60 ships \ but being at¬
tacked by the Roman fleet under Ricimer, he was ut¬
terly defeated, and forced to fly back into Africa : he
returned, however, soon after with a more powerful
fleet, committing great ravages on the coast of Italy j
but in a second expedition he was not attended with so
good success j the Romans falling unexpectedly upon
his men while busied in plundering the country, put
great numbers of them to the sword, and among the
rest the brother-in-law of Genseric himself. Not con¬
tent with this small advantage, Majorianus, at that time
empeior, resolved to pass over into Africa, and attempt
the recovery of that country. lor this purpose he
made great preparations j but his fleet being surprised
and defeated by the Vandals, through the treachery, it
is said, of some of his commanders, the enterprise mis¬
carried.
Notwithstanding this misfortune, however, Majo-
rianus persisted in his resolution ; and would in all like¬
lihood have accomplished his purpose, had not he him¬
self been murdered soon after by Ricimer. After his
death, Gensenc committed what ravages he pleased in
the poor remains of the western empire, and even made
descents on Peloponnesus and the islands belonging to
the emperor of Constantinople. To revenge this affront,
Leo made vast preparations for the invasion of Africa,
insomuch, that, according to Procopius, he laid out
rSOjOCG pounds weight of gold in the equipment of his
anny and navy. The forces employed on this occasion
were sufficient for expelling the Vandals, had they Barbary.
been much more powerful than they were 5 but the-v—
command being given to Basiliscus, a covetous and am¬
bitious man, the fleet was utterly defeated through his
treachery, and all the vast preparations came to nothing.
By this last defeat the power of the Vandals in Africa
was fully established, and Genseric made himself master
of Sicily, as well as of all the other islands between
Italy and Africa, without opposition from the western
emperors, whose power was entirely taken away in the
year 476. > # ra
Thus was the Vandalic monarchy in Barbary found-Kingdom
ed by Genseric, between the years 428 and 468. If weoftheVaR-
take a view of that prince’s government in his new d0.^ls
minions, it presents no very agreeable prospect. Being ’ ^
himself an absolute barbarian in the strictest sense of the Barbarity
word, and an utter stranger to every useful art, he didand ty™"*
not fail to show his own prowess by the destruction 0fny.°^Geifi*
all the monuments of Roman greatness which were so8611*’
numerous in the country he had conquered. Accord¬
ingly, instead of improving his country, he laid it
waste, by demolishing all the stately structures both
public and private, and all other valuable and sump¬
tuous works with which those proud conquerors had
adorned this part of their dominions. So that, what¬
ever monuments the Romans had been at such an im¬
mense expence to erect, in order to eternize their own
glory, the barbarous Vandals were now at no less pains
to reduce into heaps of ruins. Besides this kind of
devastations, Genseric made his dominions a scene of
blood and slaughter, by persecuting the orthodox
Christians $ being himself, as well as most of his coun¬
trymen, a zealous Arian ; and for this his long
reign is chiefly remarkable. He died in 477, after a
reign of 60 years: and was succeeded by his son Hun-
neric.
The new king proved yet a greater tyrant than bisHunneriet
father, persecuting the orthodox with the utmost fury *, bloody ty-
and, during his short reign of seven years and a half,™111,
destroyed more of them than Genseric had done in all
his lifetime. He is said to have died in the same man-His tenikle
ner as the heresiarch Arius * j before which time hisdeath.
flesh had been rotting upon his bones, and crawling *^.ee
with worms, so that he looked more like a dead car-
case than a living man. Concerning his successors Gu-
tamund, Thrasamund, and Hilderic, we find nothing re¬
markable, except that they sometimes persecuted, and
sometimes were favourable to, the orthodox j and by his
favour for them the last king was ruined. For, having
unadvisedly published, in the beginning of his reign, a
manifesto, wherein he repealed all the acts of his prede¬
cessors against the orthodox, a rebellion was the imme- j<f
diate consequent^. At the head of the malcontents was Hilderic
one Gilimer, or Gildemar, a prince of the blood-royal, deP°se<*
who by degrees became so powerful, as to depose Hilde-^’m€ir‘
ric in the seventh year of his reign ; after which he
caused the unhappy monarch, with all his family, to be
closely confined, and was himself crowned king of the
Vandals at Carthage.
Gilimer proved a greater tyrant than any that had
gone before him. He not only cruelly persecuted the
orthodox, but horribly oppressed all the rest, so that
he was held in universal abhorrence and
detestation Beli»
when the Greek emperor Justinian projected an invasion jn^a(je,
of Africa. Ibis expedition of Justinian’s is said to Africa;
have
B.u'bary
i3
feats the
audals.
*9
ies Car-
1 ‘ge;
to
* puts
a;'-nd to
^ Vanda-
h' aonar-
cl,
BAR [
have been occasioned by an apparition of Laetns an
' African bishop, who had been murdered some time be¬
fore, but now commanded the emperor to attempt the
recovery of Africa, and assured him of success. Ac¬
cordingly, this, or some other motive, prevailed upon
Justinian so far, that, notwithstanding his being at that
time engaged in a war with Persia, he sent a powerful
fleet and army to Africa, under the command of the ce¬
lebrated general Belisarius, who was for that reason re¬
called from Persia.
bo much was Gilimer, all this time, taken up with
his own pleasures, or with oppressing his subjects, that
he knew little or nothing of the formidable prepara¬
tions that were making against him. On the arrival of
Belisarius, however, he was constrained to put himself
into a posture of defence. The management of his
army he committed to his two brothers Gundimer and
Gelamund, who accordingly attacked the Komans at
the head of a numerous force. The engagement was
long and bloody} but at last the Vandals were defeated,
and the two princes slain. Gilimer, grown desperate
at this news, sallied out at the head of his corps de re¬
serve, with full purpose to renew the attack with the
utmost vigour} but.by his own indiscretion lost a fair
opportunity of defeating the Romans. For no sooner
did they perceive Gilimer hastening after them at the
head of a fresh army, than they betook themselves to
flight} and the greatest part were dispersed in such a
manner, that, had the king followed them close, they
must have been totally cut off. Instead of this, how¬
ever, stumbling unfortunately on the body of one of his
slain brothers, the sight of it made him lose all thoughts
about the enemy } and instead of pursuing them, he
spent part of his time in idle lamentation, and part in
burying the corpse with suitable pomp and dignity.
By this means Belisarius had an opportunity of rallying
his men } which he did so effectually, that, coming un¬
expectedly upon Gilimer, he easily obtained a new and
complete victory over him.
This defeat was followed by the loss of Carthage,
which the barbarians had been at no pains to put into
a posture of defence. After which Gilimer, having in
vain endeavoured to obtain assistance from the Moors
and Goths, was obliged torecal his brother Tzason from
Sardinia. The meeting between the two brothers was
very mournful } but they soon came to a resolution of
making one desperate attempt to regain the lost king¬
dom, or at least recover their captives out of the hands
of the enemy. The consequence of this resolution was
another engagement, in which Tzason was killed with
800 of his choicest men, while the Romans lost no
more than 50 } after which Belisarius moving sudden¬
ly forward at the head of all his army, fell upon the
camp of the Vandals. This Gilimer was no sooner ap¬
prised of, than, without staying to give any more orders
to the rest of his army, he fled towards Numidia in the
utmost consternation. His flight was not immediately
known among his troops} but when it was, such^an
universal confusion ensued, that they abandoned their
camp to the Romans, who had now nothing to do but
plunder it 5 and not content with this, they massacred
all the men found in it, carrying away the women cap¬
tives.
Thus a total end was put to the power of the Van¬
dals in Barbary, and the Romans once more became
389 ] BAR
masters of this country. The Vandal inhabitants were Barbary.
permitted to remain as they were, on condition of ex- v—1
changing the heresy of Arius for the orthodox faith.
As for Gilimer, he fled with the utmost expedition to
Medamus, a town situated on the top of the Pappuan
mountain, and almost inaccessible by reason of its
height and ruggedness. The siege of this place was
committed to Pharas, an officer of great experience,
who having shut up all avenues to the town, the un- 21
happy Gilimer was reduced to the greatest straits for GiMmer’s _
want of provisions. Pharas being soon apprised of theextreme
distress he was in, wrote him a most friendly and pa-StieSS‘
thetic letter, earnestly exhorting him to put an end to
the distress of himself and his friends by a surrender.
This Gilimer declined} but at the same time concluded
his answer with a most submissive request, that Pharas
would so far pity his great distress as to send him a loaf
of bread, a sponge, and a lute. This strange request
greatly surprised Pharas } but at last it was explained
by the messenger, who told him that the king had not
tasted any baked bread since his arrival on that moun¬
tain, and earnestly longed to eat a morsel of it before
he died : the sponge he wanted to allay a tumour that
was fallen on one of his eyes} and the lute, on which
he had learned to play, was to assist him in setting some
elegiac verses he had composed on the subject of his
misfortunes to a suitable tune. At this mournful re¬
port Pharas could not refrain from tears, and imme¬
diately despatched the messenger with the things be
wanted.
Gilimer had spent near three winter months on the
summit of this inhospitable mountain, bis misery har¬
dening him still more against the thoughts of surren¬
dering, when a melancholy scene in his own family at
once reconciled him to it. This was a bloody struggle
between two boys, one of them his sister’s son, about
a flat bit of dough, laid on the coals } which the one
seized upon, burning hot as it was, and clapped it in¬
to his mouth} but the other by dint of blows forced it
out, and ate it from him. This quarrel, which might
have ended fatally had not Gilimer interposed, made so
deep an impression upon him, that he immediately des¬
patched a messenger to Pharas, acquainting him that he
was willing to surrender himself and all his effects upon
the conditions he had offered, as soon as he was assured
that they were embraced by Belisarius. Pharas lost no
time to get them ratified and sent back to him } after
which he was conducted to Belisarius, who gave him a
very kind reception. Gilimer was afterwards brought
before Justinian in gold chains, whom he besought in 2S,
the most submissive manner to spare his life. This was Kindly
readily granted by the emperor } who also allowed him atreated by
handsome yearly pension to live upon as a private gen-^U:’^nhU1’
tleman. But bis mind and heart were too much unset¬
tled and broken to enjoy the sweets of a private state }
so that Gilimer, oppressed with grief, died in the year
534, the first of his captivity, and five years after be
had been raised to the throne.
Barbary being thus again reduced under the power
of the Romans, its history falls to be taken notice of 23
under that of Rome. In the caliphate of Omar, this Bart ary
country was reduced by the Saracens, as we have al-re^uce^ ^
ready related under the article Arabia. It continuedthe Sara~
subject to the caliphs of Arabia and Bagdad till the^"5*
reign of Harun A1 Rascbid, who having appointed I-
brahim
BAR
ijarbary. ‘braliim Ebn Aglab governor of the western parts of
■,■■■■»» i.—m.» i K * <-* m f o r* t- + r\r\\r f la o lini i xr flTSt
t 39° ]
BAR
his empire, that prefect took the opportunity,
founded.
*  ~ "l* 7   I .    1 A J '
24 of assuming greater powers to himself than had been
Principal granted by the caliph, and then erecting a princi-
city of the pai;ty altogether independent of the caliphs. The
Aglabites rac{, continued to enjoy their new principa¬
lity peaceably till the year of the Hegira 297 or 298,
during which time they made several descents on the
island of Sicily, and conquered part of it. About this
time, however, one Obeidallah rebelled against the
house of Aglab, and assumed the title of caliph of
Kairwan (the ancient Gyrene, and residence of the
Aglabite princes). To giye the greater weight to his
pretensions, he also took the surname of A1 Mohdi, or
A1 Mahedi, the director. According to some, also, he
pretended to be descended in a right line from Ali Ebn
Abu Taleb, and Fatima the daughter of Mahomet j for
which reason, say they, the Arabs called him and his
descendants Fatemites. He likewise encouraged him¬
self and his followers by a traditional prophecy of Ma¬
homet, that at the end of 300 years the sun should rise
a , out of the west. Having at length driven the Agla-
Uiiveu out bites into Egypt, where they became known by the
by At Moh-name of Magrebians, he extended his dominions in
di the first Africa and Sicily, making Kairwan the place of his
cahT6 residence.
25 In the 300th year of the Hegira, Habbasah, one of
His general A1 Mohdi’s generals, overthrew the caliph A1 Mokh-
Habbasah tader’s forces in the neighbourhood of Barca, and
invades
Egypt
made himself master of that city. After which he re¬
duced Alexandria itself j and was making great pro¬
gress in the conquest of the whole country, when A1
Mokhtader despatched against him his two generals,
rIakin and A1 Kasem, with an army of 100,000 men.
Habbasah being informed that the caliph’s troops were
motion, advanced at the head of his army to give
them battle, and at last came up with them in an island
called by the Arabs Ard Al Khamsin. Here he at¬
tacked them with incredible bravery, notwithstanding
their force was much superior to his $ but the approach
ol night obliged both generals to sound a retreat. 
The action therefore was by no means decisive, though
extremely bloody, the caliph’s generals having lost
20,000, and Habbasah 10,000. The latter, however,
durst not renew the fight next morning; but stole off
in the night, and returned home, so that Al Mokhta¬
der in effect gained a victory. In the 302d year of
the Hegira, however, Habbasah returned, possessed
himself of Alexandria a second time, defeated a bodv
of the caliph s forces, and killed 7000 of them upon
As does al- tl,e spot. What further progress he made at that
so his son time we are not certainly told ; but in the 307th year
of the Hegira, Abul Kasem, son to the Fatemite ca¬
liph Al Mohdi, again entered Egypt with an army of
100,000 men. At first be met with extraordinary suc¬
cess, and overran a considerable part of that fine coun¬
try. He made himself master of Alexandria, Al Tay-
um, Al Baknasa, and the isle of Al Ashmaryin, pene¬
trating even to Al Jizah, where the caliph’s army un¬
der the command of Munes was posted in order to op¬
pose him. In this country he found means to main-
who is ut- tain himself till the 308th year of the Hegira. This
terlyde- year, however, he was entirely defeated by Munes
feated by who made himself master of all his baggage, as well as
0- the plunder he had acquired) and this blow ob-
Abul Ka-
sem,
28
Mimes.
liged him to fly to Kairwan with the shattered remains Barbarv
of his army, where he remained without making any '—v—j
further attempt on Egypt.
Al Mohdi reigned 24 years j and was succeeded by
his son Abul Kasem above mentioned, who then took
the surname Al Kayem Mohdi. During his reign we
read of nothing remarkable, except the revolt of one
Yezid Ebn Condat, a man of mean extraction, but
who, having been raised to the dignity of chancellor,
found means to raise such a strong party, that the caliph Rebellbn
was obliged to shut himself up in the castle of Mohedia. of Yezid.
Yezid, being then at the head of a powerful army,
soon reduced the capital of Kairwan, the cities of Al
Rakkada and Tunis, and several other fortresses. He
■was no less successful in defeating a considerable num¬
ber of troops which Al Kayem had raised and sent
against him ; after which he closely besieged the caliph
himself in the castle where he had shut himself up.
The siege continued seven months j during which time
the place was reduced to such straits, that the caliph
must either have surrendered it or been starved, when
death put an end to his anxiety in the 12th year of his
reign, and the 334th of the Hegira.
Al Kayem was succeeded by his son Ishmael, who Ai ]£,„*
immediately took upon himself the title of Al Mansur, c&vfii.
This caliph thought proper to conceal the death of his
father till he had made the preparations necessary for
reducing the rebels. In this he was so successful that
he obliged Yezid to raise the siege of Mohedia the same
year j and in the following gave him two great over¬
throws, obliging him to shut himself up in the fortress
of Kothama, or Cutama, where he besieged him in his
turn. Yezid defended the place a long time with de¬
sperate bravery; but finding the garrison at last obliged
to capitulate, he made shift to escape privately. Al
Mansur immediately despatched a body of forces in pur¬
suit of him ; who overtook, and brought him back in
fetters ; but not till after a vigorous defence, in which
Yezid received several dangerous wounds, of which he
died in prison. After his death, Al Mansur caused his Deathof
body to be flayed, and his skin stuffed and exposed to Yezid.
public view. Of Al Mansur’s exploits in Sicily an
account is given under that article. Nothing farther
remarkable happened in his African dominions ; and
he died after a reign of seven years and 16 days, in the
341st of the Hegira.
Al Mansur was succeeded by his son Abu Zammin jj02m
Moad, who assumed the surname oi Al Mock Ledinil-ljdMW^
lah. He proved a very warlike prince, and maintained caliph,
a bloody contest with Abdalrahman, caliph of Anda¬
lusia ; for a particular account of which see the article
Spain. In the 347^ year of the Hegira, beginning
March 25th, 958, Al Moez sent a powerful army to the
western extremity of Africa, under the command of
Abul Hasan Jawhar, one of his slaves, whom he had
advanced to the dignity of vizir. Jawhar first ad¬
vanced to a city called Tahart, which he besieged for
some time ineffectually. From thence he marched to
Fez, and made proper dispositions for attacking that
City. But finding that Ahmed Ebn Beer, the emir
of the place, was resolved to defend it to the last, he
thought proper to abandon the enterprise. However,
having traversed all the tract between that capital and
the Atlantic ocean, he again sat down before Fez, and
took it by storm the following year.
But
R A Ji F 39i ] BAR
aihary, But the greatest achievement performed by this
rbatelli. caliph was his conquest of Egypt, and the removal of
'■V"the caliphate to that country. This conquest, though
j con- l°ng Pr°jected, he did not attempt till the year of the
crsE* Hegira 358. Having then made all necessary prepa-
jit, rations for it, he committed the care of that expedition
to a faithful and experienced general called Giafar, or
Jaafar; but in the mean time, this enterprise did not
divert A1 Moez from the care of his other conquests,
particularly those of Sicily and Sardinia : to the last
of which he sailed in the year of the Hegira 361, con¬
tinuing a whole year in it, and leaving the care of his
African dominions to an experienced officer named
Yusef Ben Zetri. He sailed thence the following year
for Tripoli in Barbary, where he had not staid long
before he received the agreeable news that his general
had made himself master of Alexandria. He lost no
time, but immediately embarked for it, leaving the
government of his old African dominions in the hands
of his trusty servant Yusef above mentioned, and arriv-
34 ing safely at that port was received with all the de¬
an nans- monstrations of joy. Here he began to lay the founda-
feitheseattioHs 0f his new Egyptian dynasty, which was to put a
miUo11 en<^ to ^ie one °f Kairwan after it had con-
thi coim- thrued about 65 years.
trt A1 Moez preserved all his old dominions of Kair-
wan or Africa Proper. But the ambition or avarice
of the governor’s whom he appointed suffered them to
run quickly to a shameful decay ; particularly the new
and opulent metropolis of Mohedia, on which immense
sums had been lavished, as well as labour and care, so
as to render it not only one of the richest and state¬
liest, but one of the strongest, cities in the world : so
that we may truly say, the wealth and splendour of this
once famed, though short-lived state, took their final
leave of it with the departure of the caliph A1 Moez,
seeing the whole maritime tract from the Egyptian
confines to the straits of Gibraltar hath since become
the nest of the most odious piratical crew that can be
imagined.
Under the article Algiers we have given a short
account of the erection of a new kingdom in Barbary
by Texefien; which, however, is there no farther con¬
tinued than is necessary for the proper understanding
the history of that country. A general history might
here be given of the whole country of Barbary ; but as
that would necessarily occasion repetitions under (lie
articles Morocco, Tripoli, Tunis, &c. we must refer
to those articles for the historical part, as well as for an
account of the climate, inhabitants, &e.
BARBA 1EELI, Bernardino, otherwise called
Pochetti, a painter of history, fruit, animals, and'flowers,
was born at Florence in 1542. He was the disciple of
Ridolfo Ghirlandaio at Florence $ from whose school
he went to Rome, and studied there with such uncom¬
mon assiduity, that he was frequently so abstracted,
and so absolutely engrossed by the objects of his con¬
templations, as to forget the necessary refreshments of
sleep and food. He was excellent for painting every
species of animals, fruit, or flowers j and in those
subjects not only imitated, but equalled nature. His
touch was free, light and delicate, and the colouring
of his objects inexpressibly true ; and, beside his me¬
rit in this most usual style of painting, the histori¬
cal subjects which he designed from sacred or profane
authors were much esteemed and admired. Pie died
in 1612.
BARBE, or B-\rb. See Barb.
Barbe in the military art. To fire in barbe, means
to fire the cannon over the parapet, instead of firing
through the embrasures; in which case the parapet must
not be above three feet and a half high.
Barbe, or Barde, is an old word, denoting the
armour of the horses of the ancient knights and soldiers,
who were accoutred at all points. It is said to have
been an armour of iron and leather, wherewith the
neck, breast, and shoulders of the horse were covered.
Barbe, St, a town of Biscay in Mexico, near which
are rich silver mines. W. Long. 109. 55. N. Lat.
26. o.
BARBED, in a general sense, bearded like a fish¬
hook set with barbs ; also shaved or trimmed.
_ Barbed and Crested, in Heraldry, an appellation
given to the combs and gills of a cock, when parti¬
cularized for being of a diflerent tincture from the
body.
A barbed cross, is across the extremities whereof
are like the barbed irons used for striking fish.
BARBEL, in Ichthyology. See Cyprinus.
BARBELICOT^E, an ancient sect of Gnostics,
spoken of by Theodoret. Their doctrines were ab¬
surd, and their ceremonies too abominable to be re¬
peated.
BARBER, one who makes a trade of shaving or
trimming the beards of other men for money. An¬
ciently a lute or viol, or some such musical instrument,
was part of the furniture of a barber’s shop, which was
used then to be frequented by persons above the or¬
dinary level of the people, who resorted to the barber
either for the cure of wounds, or to undergo some
chirurgical operation, or as it was then called, to be
trimmed, a word that signified either shaving or cutting
and curling the hair; these, together with letting
blood, were the ancient occupations of the barber-sur¬
geon. As to the other important branch of surgery,
the setting of fractured limbs, that was practised by
another class of men called bone-setters, of whom there
are hardly any now remaining. The musical instru¬
ments in his shop were for the entertainment of wait¬
ing customers ; and answered the end of a newspaper,
with which at this day those who wait for their turn
at the barber’s amuse themselves. For the origin of
the barber’s pole, see the article Appellation.
BARBER1NI, F RANCis, one of the most excellent
poets of his age, was born at Barberino, in Tuscany,
in the year 1264. As his mother was of Florence, lie
settled in that city ; where his profession of the law,
but especially the beauty of his poetry, raised him a
very considerable character. The greatest part of his
works are lost; but that which is entitled the Precepts
oj Love, which is a moral poem calculated to instruct
those in their duty who have a regard for glory, virtue,
and eternity, has had a better fate. It was published
at Rome, adorned with beautiful figures, in 1640, by
Frederic Ubaldini: he prefixed the author’s life ; and
as there are in the poem many words which are grown
obsolete, he added a glossary to explain them, which
illustrates the sense by the authority of cotemporary •
poets.
BARBERINO, a town of Tuscany in Italy, si¬
tuated
Barbe
Barberi n
v—
0.
mj.
BAR
[ 392 ]
BAR
Bai^enrro tuated at the foot of the Apennine mountains, in E.
1! Long. 12. 25. N. Lat. 43. 40.
i Baibien. ^ BARBERRY. See Berberis, Botany Index.
' BARBESUL, in Ancient Geography, a town anti
river of Baetica, and a colony in the resort of the
Conventus Gaditanus in Spain: now Morbella in Gra¬
nada.
BARBET, in Natural History, a name given by
M. Reaumur, and other of the French writers, to a
peculiar species of the worms which feed on the pnee-
rons or aphides. See Aphis, Entomology Index.
BARBETS, the name of the inhabitants of several
valleys in Piedmont, particularly those of Lucern, An-
grona, Perusa, and St Martin.
BARBEYRAC, John, was born at Besiers in
Lower Languedoc in 1674. He was made professor
of law and history at Lausanne in 1710 5 which he en¬
joyed for seven years, and during that time was three
times rector: in 1717, he was professor of public and
private law at Groningen. He translated into French
the two celebrated works of Puffendorff, his Law of
Nature and Nations, and his Duties of a Man and a
Citizen ; to both which he wrote excellent notes, and
to the former an introductory preface. He translated
also Grotius’s treatise De lure Belli ac Pads, with
large and excellent notes j and several of Tillotson’s
sermons. He wrote a work entitled Traitd de leu,
2 vols. 8vo.
BARBEZTEUH, a town of France, in the de¬
partment of Charente. It had a manufactory of linen
cloth ; and contained 2740 inhabitants in 1815. W.
Long. o. 5. N. Lat. 45. 23.
BARBICAN, or Barbacan. See Barbacan.
BARBIERI, Giovanni Francesco, otherwise
called Guercino da Cento, an eminent historical painter,
was born at Cento, a village not far from Bologna, in
1590. At first he was the disciple of Benedetto Gen-
nari; but he afterwards studied for some time in the
school of the Caracci, though he did not adopt the
manner of that famous academy. He seemed to pre¬
fer the style of Caravaggio to that of Guido or Alba-
no, imagining it impossible to imitate nature truly,
; without the assistance of strong lights and strong sha¬
dows •, and from that principle, his light was admitted
into his painting room from above. In effect, by the
opposition of his strong lights and shadows, he gave
such force to his pictures, that few, except those of
Caravaggio, can stand near them, and not seem feeble
in their effect: however, that manner is censured as
not being like nature, because it makes objects appear
as if they were seen by candle-light, or by the bright¬
ness of a sun-beam, which alone can justify the deep¬
ness of his shadowing. The principal attention of Guer¬
cino seems to have been fixed on arriving at perfec¬
tion in colouring ; he saw the astonishing effects pro¬
duced by the colouring of the celebrated Venetian
masters*, and observed, that notwithstanding any im¬
perfections in regard to grace, correctness, or elegance,
• the works of these masters were the objects of universal
admiration. I rom which observation, he seems to
have devoted his whole study to excel in colouring as
if he were convinced, that few are qualified to discern
the elevation of thought, which constitutes the excel¬
lence of a composition; few maybe touched with the
grandeur or beauty ol the design, or perhaps have a ca¬
pacity to examine even the correctness of any part of a Parl.leri
painting j and yet every eye, and even every imperfect [)
judge of a picture, may be sensibly affected by the Barbuda,
force and beauty of the colouring. His taste of design ' » —^
was natural, easy, and often grand, but without any
extraordinary share of elevation, correctness, or ele¬
gance. The airs of his heads often want dignity, and
his local colours want truth. However, there is great
union and harmony in his colours, although his carna¬
tions are not very fresh ; and in all his works there is a
powerful and expressive imitation of life, which will
for ever render them estimable. Towards the decline
of his life, he observed that the clearer and brighter
style of Guido and Albano had attracted the admira¬
tion of all Europe *, and therefore he altered his man¬
ner, even against his own judgment. But he apologized
for that conduct, by declaring, that in his former time
he painted for fame, and to please the judicious $ and
he now painted to please the ignorant, and enrich him¬
self. He died in 1666.—The most capital performance
of Guercino, is the history of S. Petronilla, which is
considered as one of the ornaments of St Peter’s at
Rome.
Barbieri, Paolo Antonio, da Cento, painter of
still life and animals, was the brother of Guercino, and
born at Cento in 1596. He chose for his subjects
fruits, flowers, insects, and animals ; which he painted
after nature with a lively tint of colour, great tender¬
ness of pencil, and a strong character of truth and life.
He died in 1640.
BARBITOS, or Barbiton, an ancient instrument
of music, mounted with three, others say seven, strings*,
much used by Sappho and Alcaeus, whence it is also
denominated Lesboum.
BABBLES, or Barbs, in Farriery, the knots or
superfluous flesh that grow up in the channels of a
horse’s mouth j that is, in the intervals that separate the
bars, and lie under the tongue. These, which are also
called barbes, obtain in black cattle as well as horses,
and obstruct their eating. For the cure, they cast the
beast, take out his tongue, and clip off the barbies with
a pair of scissars, or cut them with a sharp knife j others
choose to burn them off with a hot iron.
BARBOUR, John, archdeacon of Aberdeen, was
esteemed an excellent poet in the reign of David II. He
wrote the history of Robert the Bruce, in a heroic
poem, which is still extant, and which contains many
facts and anecdotes omitted by other historians. The
latest edition of this book is that of Glasgow, 8vo,
printed in the year 1672. It is entitled, “ The acts
and life of the most victorious conqueror Robert Bruce
king of Scotland $ wherein also are contained the mar¬
tial deeds of the valiant princes Edward Bruce, Sir
James Dowglass, Earl Thomas Randel, Walter Stew*
ard, and sundry others.” In one passage, he calls it a-
romance ; but that word was then of good reputation :
every body knows that the ‘ Romant of romants’ has
been innocently applied to true history, as well as the
‘ Ballad ol ballads’ to a sacred song.
BARBUDA, one of the British Caribbee islands,
about 20 miles long and 12 broad. It is low land, but
fruitful and pretty populous. The inhabitants employ
themselves in husbandry, and find always a ready mar¬
ket for their corn and cattle in the sugar islands. Bar¬
buda is the property of the Codrington family, who
have
BAR
Barbuda, have great numbers of negroes here as well as In Bar-
Barca‘ badoes. It lies in W. Long. 61. 3. N. Lat. 18. 5.
Jr y BARCA, a large country of Africa, lying on the
coast of the Mediterranean sea, between the kingdoms
Egypt an(l Iripoli, extending itself in length from
east to west from the 39^ to the 46th degree of east
longitude, and in breadth from north to south about
30 leagues, as is generally supposed. It is for the most
part, especially in the middle, a dry sandy desert: on
which account the Arabs call it Sahart or Ceyart
Rarka, that is, the desert or road of whirlwinds or
hurricanes. It labours almost everyW'here under a
great scarcity of water; and except in the neighbour¬
hood of towns and villages, where the ground produces
fiome small quantities of grain, such as millet and some
maize, the rest is in a manner quite barren and un¬
cultivated, or, to speak more properly, uncultivable \
and even of that small quantity which those few spots
produce, the poor inhabitants are obliged to exchange
some part with their indigent neighbours, for dates,
sheep, and camels, which they stand in greater need of
than they, by reason of their great scarcity of grass
and other proper food 5 for want of which, those that
are brought to them seldom thrive or Jive long. In this
country stood the famed temple of Jupiter Ammon 5
and notwithstanding the pleasantness of the spot where
it stood, this part of the country is said to have been
the most dangerous of any, being surrounded with such
quick and burning sands as are very detrimental to tra¬
vellers ; not only as they sink under their feet, hut be-
ing light, and heated by the rays of the sun, are easily
raised by every breath of wind \ which, if it chance to
be in their faces, almost burns their eyes out, and stifles
them for want of breath ; or, if vehement, often over¬
whelms whole caravans. Against this temple Cambyses
king of Persia despatched an army of 30,000 men.
1 hey set out from Ihebes in Upper Egypt, and under
the conduct of proper guides reached the city of Oasis
seven days journey from that place : but what was their
fate afterwards is uncertain ; for they never returned
either to Egypt or to their own country. The Am-
monians informed Herodotus, that, after the army
had entered the sandy desert which lies beyond Oasiss
a violent wind began to blow from the south at the
time of their dinner, and raised the sand to such a de¬
gree, that the whole army was overwhelmed and buried
alive.
Concerning the government or commerce of this
country we know nothing certain. Most probably the
maritime towns are under the protection of the Porte:
but whether under the bashaw of Egypt or Tripoli, or
whether they have formed themselves into independent
states like those of Algiers and Tunis, we cannot say ;
Only we are told that the inhabitants of the maritime
towns are more civilized than those that dwell in the
inland parts. I he first profess Mahometanism, and
have imbibed some notions of humanity and justice }
whilst the latter, who have neither religion nor any
sign of worship among them, are altogether savage and
brutish. They are a sort of Arabs, and like them live
entirely upon theft and plunder. By them this tract,
which before was a continued desert, was first inhabited.
At their first coming in, they settled themselves in one
ef the best places of the country •, but as they multi¬
plied, and had frequent wars with one another, the
Vol. III. Part I. f
BAH
strongest drove the weakest out of the best spots, and Buca
sent them to wander in the desert parts, where they live Barcelona;
in the most miserable manner, their country hardly af- ' v  
fording one single necessary of life. Hence it is that
they are said to be the ugliest of all the Arabs : their
bodies having scarcely any thing but skin and bone,
their faces meagre, with fierce ravenous looks j their
garb, which is commonly what they take from the pas¬
sengers who go through* those parts, tattered with long
wearing; whilst the poorest of them have scarce a rag
to cover their nakedness. They are most expert and
resolute robbers, that being their chief employment
and livelihood ; but the travellers in these parts are so
few, that the Barcans are often necessitated to make
distant excursions into Numidia, Libya, and other
southern countries. Those that fall into their hands
are made to drink plenty of warm milk : then they
hang them up by the feet, and shake them, in order to
make them vomit up any money they think they have
swallowed 5 after which, they strip them of all their
clothes, even to the last rag : but with all this inhu¬
manity, they commonly spare their life, which is more
than the other African robbers do. Yet notwithstand¬
ing every artifice they can use, the Barcans are so poor,
that they commonly let, pledge, or even sell their chil¬
dren to the Sicilians and others from whom they have
their corn, especially before they set out on any long
excursion.
BARCALON, an appellation given to the prime
minister of the king of Siam. The barcalon has in his
department every thing relating to commerce, both at
home and abroad. He is likewise sUpevintendant of the
king’s magazines.
BARCELONA, a handsome, rich, and strong city
of Spain, in the province of Catalonia, of which it is
the capital. This city was originally founded by Ha-
milcar Barcas, and from him called Barcino. ]t was
reduced by the Romans, and continued subject to them
till the kingdom of Spain was overrun by the Goths
and Vandals, and afterwards by the Saracens and Moors;
In the beginning of the 9th century, Barcelona was in
the hands of the Moors, and under the government of
one Zade. This governor having more than once abu¬
sed the clemency of Charlemagne, at last irritated Lewis
king of Aquitain, and son to Charles, to such a degree,
that he gave orders to his generals to invest the "city,
and not to rise from before it till they had put Zade
into his hands. The Moor made a most obstinate re*
sistance, so that the siege lasted many months : at last,
finding it impossible to preserve the city much longer*
and being destitute of all hopes of relief, he determined,
or rather was compelled by the inhabitants, to go to the
Christian camp and implore the emperor’s mercy ; but
here he was no sooner arrived than he was arrested and
sent prisoner to Charlemagne, who condemned him to
perpetual banishment. The people gaining nothing by
this expedient, continued to hold out for six weeks
longer, when the king of Aquitain himself took the
command of the siege. To him they made a proposal,
that if he would allow them to march out and go
where they pleased, they would surrender the plac'e;
Lewis having agreed to this, made his public entry in¬
to Barcelona, where he formed a design of extending
his father’s dominions as far as the Ebro $ but being
recalled before he could put his design in execution
3 ® he
t 393 1
BAR [ 394 ] BAR
Barcelona, he appointed one Bera count of Barcelona. The city
'—~\r—continued subject to him and his successors, who still
enjoyed the title of counts of Barcelona, from the year
802 to 1131 j during which time we find nothing re¬
markable, except that the city was once taken by the
Moors, but soon after retaken by the assistance of
Lewis IV. king of France. In 1131 it was united to
the crown of Arragon by the marriage of Don Ray¬
mond V. count of Barcelona with the daughter of Don
Ramiro the monk, king of Arragon. In 1465 the
Catalonians revolted against Don Juan II. king of Ar¬
ragon, out of hatred to his queen Donna Juanna ; the
consequence of which was, that Barcelona was besieged
by that monarch in 1471. Various efforts were made
by Lewis XI. of France and the duke of Lorrain in
order to raise the siege, but without effect. Things
at length were brought to the utmost extremity, when
the king offered to pardon them all, without the small¬
est punishment either in pei’son or property, provided
they would submit : but these terms they rejected,
chiefly through the influence of the count de Pailhars,
who had been pardoned the year before. The army,
on the other hand, was very earnest on being led on to
the assault, in hopes of plunder. The king, however,
wrote a letter to the citizens, dated the 6th of Octo¬
ber, in terms as affectionate as it he had been writing
to his children, bewailing the miseries they had brought
on themselves, and concluding with a protestation that
they, and not he, must be answerable for the conse¬
quences. Upon this, at the persuasion of a priest who
had a reputation for sanctity, they sent deputies to the
king, and made a capitulation on the 17th of the same
month. In this the king acknowledged they had
taken up arms on just motives; and forgave every body
except Pailhars, who was, however, suffered to escape.
On the 22d of October the king made his entry into
the city, and confirmed all their ancient privileges. In
1697, Barcelona was taken by the French, after a
bloody siege of 52 days ; and the loss of this city had
a considerable effect in disposing the Spaniards to agree
to the treaty of Ryswick. In Queen Anne’s time it
was taken by the allies under the earl of Peterborough.
In 1808 it was surprised by a body of French troops un¬
der General Duhesme, and continued in their possession
till 1814. It contains 10,200 houses, and 111,500 in¬
habitants, including the contiguous town of Barcelonetta.
Barcelona is situated by the sea-side, of a form be¬
tween a square and an oval. It is surrounded with a
good brick wall, round which is another, with 14 ba¬
stions, horn-works, ramparts, and ditches; the ram¬
parts are high, broad, and spacious, insomuch that
100 coaches may be seen every evening driving thereon
for pleasure. The city is divided into two parts, the
Old and the New, which are separated from each other
by a wall and a large ditch ; the streets are handsome,
well paved with large stones, wide, and very clean. It
is the residence of a viceroy, is a bishop’s see, has a
fine university, a mint, a good port, and is adorned
with handsome buildings. Here is a court of inquisi¬
tion, which the inhabitants look upon as an advantage.
I he remarkable buildings are the cathedral, which is
large, handsome, and adorned with two high towers,
the church of the Virgin Mary, the palace of the bishop,
that of the inquisition, and several religious houses :
add to these the palace of the viceroy; the arsenal,
2
which contains arms for 1000 men ; the exchange, Barcelona
where the merchants meet; the tersana, where they |j
build the galleys ; and the palace where the nobility Barclay,
of the country meet, called La Casa de la Dejnitation. » -1
This last is built with fine large freestone, and adorn¬
ed with columns of marble : there is in it a large hall,
with a gilt ceiling and a handsome portico, wherein
persons may either walk or sit; the hall is adorned
with the portraits of all the counts of Barcelona.
There are several fine squares, particularly that of St
Michael, into which all the great streets run. The
port is wide, spacious, deep, and safe ; defended on
the one side by a great mole, and on the other shelter¬
ed from the west wind by two mountains that advance
into the sea, and form a kind of promontory : the mole
is 750 paces long, with a quay, at the end of which
is a light-house and a small fort. One of the moun¬
tains, called Mount Joy, is very high, and rises in the
middle of the plain near the city : it is covered with
gardens, vineyards, groves of trees, and has a strong
fort for the defence of the city. This mountain, being
a rock, yields an inexhaustible quarry of fine hard free¬
stone. Barcelona is a place of great trade, on account
of the conveniency of its harbour. Since the trade
with Mexico has been thrown open, the commerce of
this port has increased surprisingly. Before the late
revolution its trade inward and outward was computed
at 1,750,000!. Sterling. The number of vessels that
entered the harbour in 1803, was 1333. The women
are well shaped, and as handsome as any in Spain ;
they are brisk and lively in their conversation, and more
free and unrestrained in their behaviour than in other
parts of Spain. E. Long. 2. 5. N. Lat 41. 26.
BARCELONETTE, a town of France, in the
department of the Lower Alps, formerly in the go¬
vernment of Dauphiny, and capital of the valley of
its own name. It belonged to the duke of Savoy, and
was ceded to France by the treaty of Utrecht in 1712.
E. Long. 6. 40. N. Lat. 44. 26.
B ARCELOR, a town of Asia, in the East Indies,
on the coast of Malabar. It is supposed to be the an¬
cient Barace, and has a considerable trade in pepper.
E. Long. 74. 15. N. Lat. 13. 45.
BARCELOS, a town of Portugal, with the title
of a duchy. It is seated on the river Cavado, over
which there is a handsome bridge. W. Long. 7. 0.
N. Lat. 41. 20.
BARC1NO, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
Tarraconensis in Spain, and capital of the Laletanh
Now Barcelona. See that article.
BARCLAY, Alexander, a learned monk in the
reign of Henry VIII. Where he was born, though
ol no great importance, was nevertheless a matter of
virulent contention among his former biographers.
Bale, who was his cotemporary, is of opinion he was
born in Somersetshire. There is indeed a village of
his name, and a numerous family, in that county. Pits
thinks he was born in Devonshire. Mackenzie is po¬
sitive he was a Scotchman ; but without proof, unless
we admit as such his name Alexander. He was, how¬
ever, educated in Oriel-college, Oxford. After leaving
the university he went abroad, and continued some
time in France, Italy, and Germany, where he ac¬
quired a competent knowledge of the languages of those
countries, as appears from several translations of books,
which
BAR [ 395 ] BAR
Barclay, which he afterwards published. On his return to Eng-
—land, he was made chaplain to his pati’on the bishop
of Tyne, who likewise appointed him a priest of St
Mary, at the college of Ottery in Devonshire, found¬
ed by Grandison bishop of Exeter. After the death
of his patron, he became a Benedictine monk of Ely.
On the dissolution of that monastery, he first obtained
the vicarage of St Matthew at Wokey in Somerset¬
shire 5 and, in 1549, being then doctor of divinity,
was presented to the vicarage of Much Badew in Es¬
sex. In 1552, he was appointed rector of Allhallows,
Lombard-street, which be lived to enjoy but a very
short time. He died at Croydon in Surry in June
1552. He is generally allowed to have improved the
English language, and to have been one of the politest
writers of his time. He composed several original
works ; but was chiefly remarkable for his translations
from the Latin, Italian, French, and German langua¬
ges. His version from Sallust of the war of Jugurtha is
accurate, and not without elegance. His lives of seve¬
ral saints, in heroic verse, are still unpublished. His
Stultifera navis, or 17ie ship of fools $ is the most singu¬
lar of his performances. It was printed by Bichard
Pynson at London, 1509, in folio ; and contains a va¬
riety of wooden plates, which are worthy the inspection
of the curious.
Barclay, William, a learned civilian, was born
in Aberdeenshire in the year 1541. He spent the
early part of his life, and much of his fortune, at the
court of Mary queen of Scots, from whose favour he
had reason to expect preferment. In 1573 he went
over to France, and at Bourges commenced student of
civil law under the famous Cujacius. He continued
some years in that seminary, where he took a doctor’s
degree ; and was soon after appointed professor of civil
law in the university of Pont h Mousson, then first
founded by the duke of Lorrain. That prince after¬
wards made him counsellor of state and master of re¬
quests. Barclay, in the year 1581, married Ann de
Mallaville, a French lady, by whom he had a son, who
became a celebrated author, and of whom the reader
will find an account in the next article. This youth
the Jesuits would gladly have received into their so¬
ciety. His father refused his consent, and for that
reason these disciples of Jesus soon contrived to ruin
him with the duke his patron. Barclay now embark¬
ed for Britain, where King James I. offered him a con¬
siderable preferment, provided he would become a
member of the church of England : but not choosing
to comply, he returned to France in 1604 j and, soon
after his arrival, was appointed professor of civil law
in the university of Angers, where he died the year
following, and was buried in the Franciscan church.
He was esteemed a learned civilian ; and wrote elabo¬
rately in defence of the divine right oi kings, in an¬
swer to Buchanan and others. The titles of his works
are, 1. De regno et regalipotestate, &c. 2. Commen-
tarius in tit. pandectarum de rebits creditis, et de jure-
juraudo. 3. De potestate paper, &c. 4. Primitia in
vitam Agricolce.
Barclay, John, son of the former, was, as we
have above mentioned, so great a favourite of the Je¬
suits, that they used all their efforts to engage him in
their society. His father would not consent, and car¬
ried his son with him into England, who was already
an author, for he had published “ A Commentary up- Barclay,
on the Thebais of Statius,” and a Latin poem on the *■——y-—~
coronation of King James, and the first part of JLu-
phormio, 1603. He returned to France with his fa¬
ther j and after his father’s death went to Paris, and
soon after came back to London : he was there in
1606. He published “ The History of the Gunpow¬
der Plot,” a pamphlet of six leaves, printed at Am¬
sterdam. He published at London in 1610 “ An A-
pology for the Euphormio,” and his father’s treatise
De potestate paper. And at Paris, 1612, he published
a book entitled Pietas, in answer to Cardinal Bellar-
min, who had written against William Barclay’s book
concerning the power of the Pope. Two years after
he published Icon Animorum. He was invited to
Borne by Pope Paul V. and received a great deal of
civility from Cardinal Bellarmin, though he had writ¬
ten against him. He died at Borne in 1621, while
his Argenis was printing at Paris. This celebrated
work has since gone through a great number of edi¬
tions, and has been translated into most languages.
M. de Peiresc, who had the care of the first edition,
caused the effigies of the author to be placed before the
book; and the following distich, written by Grotius,
was put under it:
Gente Caledonius, Gallus natalibus, hie est,
Romam Romano qai docet ore loqui.
Barclay, Robert, one of the most eminent among
the Quakers, the son of Colonel David Barclay, de¬
scended of the ancient family of Barclays, was born at
Edinburgh in 1648. He was educated under an uncle
at Paris, where the Papists used all their efforts to draw
him over to their religion. He joined the Quakers in
1669, and distinguished himself by his zeal and abili¬
ties in defence of their doctrines. In 1676 he pub¬
lished in Latin at Amsterdam his “ Apology for the
Quakers $” which is the most celebrated of his works,
and esteemed the standard of the doctrine of the Qua¬
kers. The Theses Theological, which were the foun¬
dation of this work, and addressed to the clergy of
what sort soever, were published before the writing of
the Apology, and printed in Latin, French, High-
Dutch, Low Dutch, and English. The dedication of
his Apology to King Charles II. is very remarkable
for the uncommon frankness and simplicity with which
it is written. Amongst many other extraordinary pas¬
sages, we meet with the following: “ There is no king
in the world who can so experimentally testify of God’s
providence and goodness j neither is there any who
rules so many free people, so many true Christians;
which thing renders thy government more honourable,
thyself more considerable, than the accession of many
nations filled with slavish and superstitious souls. Thou
hast tasted of prosperity and adversity ; thou knowest
what it is to be banished thy native country, to be
over-ruled as well as to rule and sit upon the throne ;
and being oppressed, thou hast reason to know how
hateful the oppressor is both to God and man: if, after
all those warnings and advertisements, thou dost not
turn unto the Lord with all thy heart, but forget him
who remembered thee in thy distress, and give thyself
up to follow lust and vanity, surely great will be thy
condemnation.”—He travelled with the famous Mr
William Penn through the greatest part of England,
3 B a Holland,
BAR [ 396 ]
BAR
Barclay Holland, and Germany, and was everywhere received
I! with the highest respect ; for though both his conver-
, sation and behaviour were suitable to his principles, yet
there was such liveliness and spirit in his discourse, and
such serenity and cheerfulness in his deportment, as
rendered him extremely agreeable to all sorts of people.
When be returned to his native country, he spent the
remainder of his life in a quiet and retired manner. He
died at his own house at Ury on the 3d of Oct. 1690,
in the 43d year of his age.
BARCOCHEBAS, or rather Barcochab, a Jew¬
ish impostor, whose real name was Akiba ; but he took
that of Barcochab, which signifies the Son of a Star ;
in allusion to the prophecy of Balaam, “ There shall
a star arise out of Jacob.” He proclaimed himself the
Messiah ; and talking of nothing but wars, victories,
and triumphs, made his countrymen rise against the Ro¬
mans, by which means he was the author of innumerable
disorders; he ravaged many places, took a great num¬
ber of fortresses, and massacred an infinite multitude of
people, particularly the Christians. The emperor sent
troops to Rufus, governor of Judea, to suppress the se¬
dition. Rufus in obedience exercised a thousand cruel¬
ties, but could not finish his attempt. The emperor was
therefore obliged to send Julius Severus, the greatest
general of that time j who attained his end without a
direct battle : he fell on them separately ; cut off their
provisions 5 and at last the whole contest was reduced to
the siege of Bitter, in the 18th year of Hadrian. The
impostor perished there. This war cost the Romans a
great deal of blood.
BARD, a word denoting one who was a poet by
his genius and profession j and “ who sung of the bat¬
tles of heroes, or the heaving breasts of love.” Ossicm's
Poems, I. 37.
SkTches The curiosity of man is great with respect to the
Sk. v. ’ transactions of bis own species; and when such trans¬
sect. ii. actions are described in verse, accompanied with mu¬
sic, the performance is enchanting. An ear, a voice,
skill in instrumental music, and, above all, a poetical
genius, are requisite to excel in that complicated art.
As such talents are rare, the few that possessed them
were highly esteemed; and hence the profession of a
bard, which, besides natural talfents, required more cul¬
ture and exercise than any other known art. Bards
were capital persons at every festival and at every so¬
lemnity. Their songs, which, by recording the achieve¬
ments of kings and heroes, animated every hearer,
must have been the entertainment of every warlike
nation. We have Hesiod’s authority, that in his time
bards were as common as potters or joiners, and as
liable to envy. Demodocus is mentioned by Homer as
a celebrated bard; and Phemius, another bard, is in¬
troduced by him deprecating the wrath of Ulysses in
the following words :
“ O King ! to mercy be thy soul Inclin’d,
And spare the poet’s ever-gentle kind :
^ A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,
For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
« ^eulf'tau^t I s>ngj by heav’n, and heav’n alone,
Ihe genuine seeds of poesy are sown ;
“ And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay,
To gods alone, and godlike worth, we pay.
3
“ Save then the poet, and thyself reward ;
“ ’Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.”
Odyssey, viii,
Cicero reports, that at Roman festivals, anciently, the
virtues and exploits of their great men were sung. The
same custom prevailed in Peru and Mexico, as we learn
from Garcilasso and other authors. We have for our
authority Father Gobien, that even the inhabitants of
the Marian islands have bards, who are greatly admir¬
ed, because in their songs are celebrated the feats of
their ancestors.
But in no part of the world did the profession of
bard appear with such lustre as in Gaul, in Britain, and
in Ireland. Wherever the Celtae or Gauls are men¬
tioned by ancient writers, we seldom fail to hear of
their druids and their bards ; the institution of which
two orders, was the capital distinction of their manners Blair's
and policy. The druids were their philosophers andBiWto.
priests; the bards, their poets and recorders of heroicf1®”’
actions .* and both these orders of men seem to have
subsisted among them, as chief members of the state, poms*
from time immemorial. The Celtae possessed, from vol. ii.’
very remote ages, a formed system of discipline and P- 3°^
manners, which appears to have had a deep and lasting
influence. Ammianus Marcellinus* gives them this*Lib. xt,
express testimony, that there flourished among themc* 9*
the study of the most laudable arts ; introduced by the
bards, whose office it was to sing in heroic verse the
gallant actions of illustrious men ; and by the druids,
who lived together in colleges or societies, after the
Pythagorean manner, and philosophizing upon the
highest subjects, asserted the immortality of the hu¬
man soul. Though Julius Caesar, in his account of
Gaul, does not expressly mention the bards ; yet it is
plain, that, under the title of Druids, he comprehends
that whole college or order ; of which the bards, who,
it is probable, were the disciples of the druids, un-2)epe/,
doubtedly made a part. It deserves remark, that, ac-G«/. lib. vi.
cording to his account, the druidical institution first
took rise in Britain, and passed from thence into
Gaul; so that they who aspired to be thorough ma¬
sters of that learning were wont to resort to Britain.
He adds too, that such as were to be initiated among
the druids, were obliged to commit to their memory a
great number of verses, insomuch that some employed
20 years in this course of education ; and that they
did not think it lawful to record these poems in writ¬
ing, but sacredly handed them down by tradition from
race to race.
bo strong was the attachment of the Celtic nations
to their poetry and their bards, that amidst all the
changes of their government and manners, even long
after the order of the druids was extinct, and the na*
tional religion altered, the bards continued to flourish ;
not as a set of strolling songsters, like the Greek loiioi
or rhapsodists, in Homer’s time, but as an order of
men highly respected in the state, and supported by a
public establishment. We find them, according to the
testimonies of Strabo and Diodorus, before the age of
Augustus Csesar ; and we find them remaining under
the same name, and exercising the same functions as of
old, in Ireland, and in the north of Scotland, almost
down to our own times. It is well known, that, in
Bard
i nan,
i u.
} nry s
l ■lory,
if. i.
F
BAR [
, both these countries, every regains or chief had his
—'own bard, who was considered as an officer of rank in
his court.
Of the honour in which the bards were held, many
instances occur in Ossian^s poems. On ali important
occasions, they were the ambassadors between contend¬
ing chiefs j and their persons were held sacred. “ Cair-
boi feaied to stretch his sword to the bards, though his
soul was dark. Loose the bards (said his brother
Cathmor), they are the sons of other times. Their voice
shall be heard in other ages, when the kings of Temora
have failed. —The bards, as well as the druids, were
exempted fiom taxes and military services, even in
times of tlie greatest danger £ and when they attended
their patrons in the field, to record find celebrate their
great actions, they had a guard assigned them for their
protection. At all festivals and public assemblies they
were seated near the person of the king or chieftain,
and sometimes even above the greatest nobility and
chief officers of the court. I'Jor was the profession of
the bards less lucrative than it was honourable. For,
besides the valuable presents which they occasionally
received from their patrons when they gave them un¬
common pleasure by their performances, they had es¬
tates in land allotted for their support. INIay, so great
was the veneration which the princes of these times en¬
tertained for the persons of their poets, and so highly
were they charmed and delighted with their tuneful
strains, that they sometimes pardoned even their capi¬
tal crimes for a song.
We may very reasonably suppose, that a profession
that was at once so honourable and advantageous, and
enjoyed so many flattering distinctions and desirable im¬
munities, would not be deserted, ft was indeed very
much crowded j and the accounts which we have of the
numbers of the bards in some countries, particularly in
Ireland, are hardly credible. We often read, in the
poems of Ossian, of a hundred bards belonging to one
prince, singing and playing in concert for his entertain¬
ment. Every chief bard, who was called Allah Redan,
or doctor in poetry, was allowed to have 30 bards of in¬
ferior note constantly about his person j and every bard
of the second rank was allowed a retinue of 15 poetical
disciples.
Though the ancient Britons of the southern parts of
this island had originally the same taste and genius for
poetry with those of the north, yet none of their poetical
compositions of this period have been preserved. Nor
have we any reason to be surprised at this. For after
the provincial Britons had submitted quietly to the Ro¬
man government, yielded up their arms, and had lost
theii fiee and martial spirit, they could take little plea¬
sure in hearing or repeating the songs of their bards in
honour of the glorious achievements of their brave an¬
cestors. The Romans, too, if they did not practise the
same barbarous policy which was long after practised by
Edward I. of putting the bards to death, would at least
discourage them, and discountenance the repetition of
their poems, for very obvious reasons. The sons of the
song being thus persecuted by their conquerors, and ne¬
glected by their countrymen, either abandoned their
country or their profession j and their songs being no
longer heard, were soon forgotten.
ft is probable that the ancient Britons, as well as
397 3 BAR
many other nations of antiquity, had no idea of poems
that were made only to be repeated, and not to be sung ()
to the sound of musical instruments. In the first stages Baidas,
of society in all countries, the two sister arts of poetry
and music seem to have been always united ; every poet
was a musician, and sung his own verses to the sound
of some musical instrument. This, we are directly told
by two writers of undoubted credit, was the case in
Gaul, and consequently in Britain, in this period. “ The
bards (says Diodorus Siculus *) sung their poems to the * Lib. v.
sound of an instrument not unlike a lyre.” “ The bardssect .3**
(according to Ammianus Marcellinus f, as above hint-t Lib. xv,
ed) celebrated the brave actions of illustrious men, inc‘5*
heroic poems, which they sung to the sweet sounds of
the lyre.” This account of these Greek and Latin
writers is confirmed by the general strain, and by many
particular passages, of the poems of Ossian. “ Beneath
his own tree, at intervals, each bard sat down with his
harp. They raised the song, and touched the string,
each to the chief he loved J.” f Vol. ii.
The invention of writing made a considerable change P* II2» I13*
in the bard profession. It is now an agreed point, that
no poetry is fit to be accompanied with music, but
what is simple : a complicated thought or description Kai^'«
requires the utmost attention, and leaves none for theS^cheSi
music; or, if it divide the attention, it makes but au,)lsuPra*
faint impression The simple operas of Quinault § See th*
bear away the palm from every thing of the kind com-artic,e.
posed by Boileau or Racine. But when a language,
in its progress to maturity, is enriched with variety of
phrases fit to express the most elevated thoughts, men
of genius aspired to the higher strains of poetry, leav¬
ing music and song to the bards : which distinguished
the profession of a poet from that of a bard. Homer
in a lax sense, may be termed a bard ; for in that cha-
lactei he strolled from feast to feast. But he was not
a bard in the original sense : he, indeed, recited his
poems to crowded audiences ; but his poems are too
complex for music, and he probably did not sing them,
nor accompany them with the lyre. The Trovadores
of Provence were bards in the original sense, and made
a capital figure in the days of ignorance, when few
could read, and fewer write. In later times, the songs
of the bards were taken down in writing, which gave
every one access to them without a bard; and the pro¬
fession sunk by degrees into oblivion. Among the
Highlanders of Scotland, reading and writing in their
mvn tongue is not common even at present; and that
ciicumstance supported long the bard profession among
them, after being forgot among the neighbouring na¬
tions.
BARDANA, or Burdock. See Arctium, Bo¬
tany Index.
BARDARIO ry£, in antiquity, were a kind of an¬
cient guard attending the Greek emperors, armed with
rods, wherewith they kept off the people from crowd¬
ing too near the prince when on horseback. Their cap¬
tain, or commander, was denominated jorzwiftwgzV/s.—
The word was probably formed from the hardec, or
housings on their horses.
BARD AS, the brother of the empress Theodora,
and uncle of the famous Photius, is said to have had
no other good quality besides that of loving the scien¬
ces and polite literature, which he established in the
Eastern
BAR [ 398 ] B A. R
Baidas Eastern empire *, for lie was treacherous, cruel, and
|i ambitious, In the year 856, he assassinated Theoctistes,
Barfleur. general 0f the emperor Michael’s forces, and obtained
j,;s p0St. At length he caused the disgrace of the em¬
press Theodora ; and St Ignatius, patriarch of Con¬
stantinople, reproaching him for his vices, he had him
deposed in 858, in order to make room for Photius.
Bardas was assassinated by Basilius the Macedonian,
in 866.
BARDED, in Heraldry, is used in speaking of a
horse that is caparisoned. He bears sable, a cavalier
d'or, the horse barded, argent.
BARDESANISTS, a sect of ancient heretics,
thus denominated from their leader, Bardesanes, a Sy¬
rian of Edessa in Mesopotamia. Bardesanes, born in
the middle of the second century, became eminent, af¬
ter his conversion to Christianity, for his zeal against
heretics ; against whom, we are informed by St Je¬
rome and Eusebius, he wrote a multitude of books :
yet had he the misfortune to fall, himself, into the er¬
rors of Valentinus, to which he added some others of
his own. He taught, that the actions of men depend
altogether on fate, and that God himself is subject to
necessity. His followers went further, and denied the
resurrection of the body, and the incarnation and death
of our Saviour j holding that these were only apparent
or fantastical.
BARDEWICK, a town of Germany, in the circle
of Lower Saxony and duchy of Lunenburg; formerly
a very large place j but being ruined in 1189, by the
duke of Saxony, has never yet recovered itself. It is
seated on the river Ilmenau, in E. Long. 10. 6. N.
Lat. 53. 40.
BARDT, a strong and rich town of Germany, in
the duchy of Pomerania, with a castle and spacious
harbour. It is subject to the Swedes ; and is situated
near the Baltic sea, in E. Long. 13. 20. N. Lat. 54.
23-
BARE, in a general sense, signifies not covered.
Hence we say bare-headed, bare-footed, &c.
The Roman women, in times of public distress and
mourning, went bare-headed, with their hair loose,—
Among both Greeks, Romans, and Barbarians, we find
a feast called The Abyssinians never en¬
ter their churches, nor the palaces of kings and great
men, but bare-footed.
Bare-Foot Carmelites and Augustines, are religious
of the order of St Carmel and St Austin, who live un¬
der a strict observance, and go without shoes, like the
Capuchins. There are also bare-foot fathers of mercy.
Formerly there were bare-foot Dominicans, and even
bare-foot mins of the order of St Augustine.
BAREITH, a town of Germany in Franconia, now
subject to Bavaria, and containing 10,000 inhabitants.
It was formerly the chief town of a margravate of the
same name. E. Long. II. 50. N. Lat. 50. o.
BARENT, Diteric, an excellent painter, was born
at Amsterdam, and was the son of a very industrious
painter. He studied in Italy, and became the favour¬
ite disciple of Titian, with whom he lived a long time j
but at length returned to Amsterdam, where he
painted many extraordinary pieces. He died in 11:82
aged 48.
BARFLEUR, a town of France, in Normandy,
now the department of the Channel. It was ruined, and Barfltur
had its harbour filled up by the English in 1346. The |)
cape of that name is 12 miles east of Cherburg, and near Barge-
it part of the French fleet was destroyed in 1692. W. C0Ul'te-
Long. 1. 6. N. Lat. 49. 40. —
BARGAIN and Sale, a species of conveyance in
the English law. It is a kind of a real contract,
whereby the bargainer for some pecuniary consideration
bargains and sells, that is, contracts to convey, the
land of the bargainee; and becomes by such bargain a
trustee for, or seized to the use of, the bargainee 5 and
then the statute of uses completes the purchase : or, as
it hath been well expressed, the bargain first vests the
use, and then the statute vests the possession. But as it
was foreseen that conveyances, thus made, would want
all those benefits of notoriety which the old common-
law assurances were calculated to give; to prevent there¬
fore clandestine conveyances of freeholds, it was enact¬
ed in the same session of parliament, by statute 27 Hen.
VIII. c. 16. that such bargains and sales should not
endure to pass a freehold, unless the same be made by in¬
denture, and enrolled within six months in one of the
courts of Westminster-hall, or with the custos rotulorum
of the county. Clandestine bargains and sales of chattel
interests, or leases for years, were thought not worth re¬
garding, as such interests were very precarious till about
six years before; which also occasioned them to be over¬
looked in framing the statute of uses: and therefore such
bargains and sales are not directed to be enrolled. But
how impossible it is to foresee, and provide against, all
the consequences of innovations! This omission has
given rise to the species of conveyance by lease and
RELEASE.
BARGE {Bargie, Dutch), a vessel or boat of state,
furnished with elegant apartments, canopies, and cu¬
shions; equipped with a band of rowers, and decorated
with flags and streamers : they are generally used for
processions on the water, by noblemen, officers of state,
or magistrates of great cities. Of this sort, too, we
may naturally suppose the famous barge or galley of
Cleopatra, which, according to Shakespeare,
       Like a burnish’d throne,
Burnt on the water : the poop was beaten gold :
Purple her sails ; and so perfum’d, that
The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were
silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept time, and made
I he water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes 
     ■ At the helm
A seeming mermaid steer’d : the silken tackles
Swell’d with the touches of those flower-soft hands
That yarely ’form’d their office.——
There are likewise other barges of a smaller kind, for
the use of admirals and captains of ships of war. These
are of a lighter frame, and may be easily hoisted into
and out of the ships to which they occasionally belong.
Barge is also the name of a flat-bottomed vessel of
burden, for lading and discharging ships, and removing
their cargoes from place to place in a harbour.
Barge-Couples, in Architecture, abeam mortised in¬
to another, to strengthen the building.
Barge-Course, with bricklayers, a term used for
that
bah r 399 ] BAR
Birge- I™'1 ^,e tiling which projects over without the still more like samphire. It is sown hut once in three, Barilla
course principal rafters, in all sorts of buildings where there four, or five years, according to the nature of the soil* Baring.
!] ei^,er g^hle or a kirkin-head. So%a, when of the same size, has the same appear- ‘'■——y——
Jlir! Z1' . # BARGHMAS1LR, JBarmer, or Bar-Master, ance as gazul j but in time grows much larger, as its
in the loyal mines, the steward or judge of the barmote. natural soil is a strong salt marsh, where it is to be
Ihe bar-master is to keep two great courts of bar- found in large tufts of sprigs, treble the size of barilla,
mote yearly 5 and every week a small one, as occasion and of a bright green colour, which it retains to the
requires. ^ last.
BARGHMOIE, or Barmote, a court which takes Salicov has a stalk of a deep green colour inclining
cognizance of causes and disputes between miners.— to red, which last becomes by degrees the colour of
By the custom of the mines, no person is to sue any the whole plant. From the beginning it grows up1*
nunei foi ore-debt, or for ore, or for any ground in right, and much resembles a bush of young rosemary,
variance, but only in the court of barmote, on penalty Its natural soil is on the declivities of hills near the *
of forfeiting the debt, and paying the charges at law. salt marshes, or on the edges of the small drains or chan-
BABJ, a very handsome and rich town of Italy, in nels cut by the husbandmen for the purpose of watering
the kingdom of Naples j the capital of Terra di Bari, the fields 5 before it has acquired its full growth, it is
and an archbishop’s see. It is well fortified, is seated very like the barilla of those seasons in which the
on the gulf of Venice, and had formerly a good bar- ground has been dunged before sowing. In those
hour, but it was destroyed by the Venetians. E. Long, years of manuring, barilla, contrary to its usual na-
17. 4°. N. Lat. 41. 31. . ture, comes up with a tinge of red 5 and when burnt
Bari, or Terra di Tart, a territory of Italy, in falls far short of its wonted goodness, being hitter,
the kingdom of Naples, of which the above-mentioned more impregnated with salts than it should be, and rai-
city is the capital. It is bounded on the north by the sing a blister if applied for a few minutes to the tongue.
Capitanata, on the north-west by the Ulterior Princi- Barilla contains less salt than the others: when burnt,
pato, on the south by the Basilicata, on the south-east it runs into a mass resembling a spongy stone, with a
by the Terra de Otranto, and on the north-east by the faint cast of blue.
gulf of \ enice. . It has no considerable river except Gazul, after burning, comes as near barilla in its
the Offanto, which separates it from the Capitanata. ontw'ard appearance as it does while growing in its ve-
The air is temperate 5 and the soil produces plenty of getable form $ but if broken, the inside is of a deeper
corn, fruit, and saffron: but there are a great many and more glossy blue. Soza and salieor are darker,
serpents, and spiders called tarantidas. See Aranea. and almost black within, of a heavier consistence, with
The principal towns are Bari the capital, Frani, An- very little or no sign of sponginess.
dria,^Bavo, Bilonto, Conversano, Monopoli, Polignia- All these ashes contain a strong alkali; but barilla
no, Larletto, and Malsetto. Ihe two first are archi- the best and purest, though not in the greatest quan**
episcopal, and all the rest episcopal. tity. Upon this principle, it is fittest for making glass
BARILLA, or Barilha, the name of a plant cul- and bleaching linen j the others are used in making
tivated in Spain for its ashes, from which the purest soap. Each of them would whiten linen 5 but alk,
kinds of mineral alkali or soda are obtained. except barilla, would burn it. A good crop of ba-
There are four plants, which, in the early part of rilla impoverishes the land to such a degree, that it can<-
their growth, bear so strong a resemblance to each other not bear good barilla a second time, being quite ex>
as would deceive any but the farmers and nice obser- hausted. For this reason the rich farmers lay ma»-
vers. I hese four are, &arz//a, (or, as some call nure upon the ground, and let it lie fallow for a sea-
it, alga'&al'), soza, and saltcornia or salieor. T hey are son j at the end of which it is sown afresh without any
all burnt to ashes ; but applied to different uses, as danger, as the weeds that have sprung up in the year
being possessed of different qualities. Some of the of rest have carried off all the pernicious effects of the
roguish farmers mix more or less of the three last with dung. A proper succession of crops is thus secured
the first; and it requires a complete knowledge of the by manuring and fallowing the different parts of the
colour, taste, and smell of the ashes to be able to detect farm, each in their turn. The poorer tribe of cultiva-
theu- knavery. tors cannot pursue the same method for want of capital $
Bardta is sown afresh every year. Its greatest height and are therefore under the necessity of sow'ing their
above ground is four inches: each root pushes out a lands immediately after manuring, which yields them a
vast number of little stalks, which again are subdivided profit just sufficient to afford a present scanty subsistence^,
into smaller sprigs resembling samphire j and all together though the quality and price of their barilla be but
form a large spreading tufted bush. The colour is trifling.
blight green ; as the plant advances towards maturity, The method used in making barilla is the same as
thia colour vanishes away till it comes at last to be a that followed in Britain in burning kelp. The plant
ul green tinged with brown. as g00n as rjpe Jg plucked up and laid in heaps, then
Gazul bears the greatest affinity to barilla, both in set on fire. The salt juices run out below into a
quality and appearance : the principal difference con- hole made in the ground, where they run into a vitri-
„ s,sts ’n ’ts. growing on a still drier salter earth, con- fied lump, which is left about a fortnight to cool. An
sequently it is impregnated with a stronger salt. It acre may give about a tun.
< oes not rise above two inches out of the ground, BARING OF TREES, in Agriculture, the taking
spreading out into little tufts. Its sprigs are much away some of the earth about the roots, that the
utter and more pulpy than those of barilla, and are winter-rain and snow-water may penetrate farther
into >
BAH [ 400 ] BAB
Baring into the roots. This is frequently practised in the au-
{1 tumn.
Bal'^ BARJOLS, a town of Provence, now the department
ofVar, in France, containing 3025 inhabitants in 1815.
E. Long. 5. 23. N. Lat. 43. 35.
BARIUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of Apulia,
on the Adriatic; so called from the founders, who be¬
ing expelled from the island Bara, built this town. It
is now called Bari $ see that article.
BARK, in the anatomy of plants, the exterior part
of trees, corresponding to the skin of an animal. For
its organization, texture, &c. see the article Plants.
As animals are furnished with a panniculus adipo-
sus, usually replete with fat, which invests and covers
all the fleshy parts, and screens them from external
cold 5 plants are encompassed with a bark replete with
fatty juices, by means whereof the cold is kept out,
and in winter-time the spiculge of ice prevented from
fixing and freezing the juices in the vessels : whence it
is, that some sort of trees remain evergreen the year
round, by reason their barks contain more oil than can
be spent and exhaled by the sun, &c.
The bark has its peculiar diseases, and is infested
with insects peculiar to it.—It appears from the expe¬
riments of M. Buffon, that trees stripped of their bark
the whole length of their stems, die in about three or
four years. But it is very remarkable, that trees thus
stripped in the time of the sap, and suffered to die,
afford timber heavier, more uniformly dense, stronger,
and fitter for service, than if the trees had been cut
down in their healthy state. Something of a like na¬
ture has been observed by Vitruvius and Evelyn.
The ancients wrote their books on bark, especially of
the ash and lime tree, not on the exterior, but on the
inner and finer bark called philyra.
There are a great many kinds of barks in use in the
several arts. Some in agriculture, and in tanning lea¬
ther, as the oak-bark; some in physic, as the quinqui¬
na ov 3 esuWs hark, mace, &c. j others in dyeing, as
the bark of alder, and walnut-trees j others in spicery,
as cinnamon, cassia lignea, &c. j and others for divers
uses, as the bark of the cork tree, &c.
In the East Indies, they prepare the bark of a cer-
’tain tree so as to spin like hemp. After it has been
beat and steeped in water, they extract long threads
from it, which are something between silk and common
thread ; being neither so soft nor so glossy as silk, nor
so rough and hard as hemp. They mix silk with it in
some stuffs ; and these are called nillaes, and cherque-
mollcs. *
Of the bark of a species of mulberry-tree the Japanese
make their paper. See Morus.
In the island of Otaheite, the natives make their
cloth, which is of three kinds, of the bark of three dif¬
ferent trees ; the paper-mulberry above mentioned, the
bre.ul-fi uit tree, aud the cocoa tree. I hat made of the
mulberry is the finest and whitest, and worn chiefly by
the principal people. It is manufactured in the fol¬
lowing manner. When the trees are of a proper size,
they are drawn up, and stripped of their branches 5 afl
ter which, the roots and tops are cut off: the bark of
these rods being then slit up longitudinally, is easily
drawn oil j and, when a proper quantity has been pro¬
cured, it is carried down to some running water, in
which it is deposited to soak, and secured from float- park¬
ing away by heavy stones : when it is supposed to be -y-l.
sufficiently softened, the women servants go down to
the brook, and stripping themselves, sit down in the
water, to separate the inner bark from the green part
on the outside : to do this, they place the under side up¬
on a flat smooth board, and with a kind of shell scrape
it very carefully, dipping it continually in the water
till nothing remains but the fine fibres of the inner
coat. Being thus prepared in the afternoon, they are
spread out upon plantain leaves in the evening j they
are placed in lengths of about IX or 12 yards, one by
the side of another, till they are about a foot broad,
and txvo or three layers are also laid one upon the o-
ther: care is taken that the cloth shall be in all parts
of an equal thickness, so that if the bark happens to be
thinner in any one particular part of one layer than the
rest, a piece that is somewhat thicker is picked out to
be laid over in the next. In this state it remains till
the morning, when great part of the Water which it
contained when it was laid out is either drained off or
evaporated, and the several fibres adhere together, so
as that the whole may be raised from the ground in
one piece. It is then taken away, and laid upon the
smooth side of a long piece of wood px-epared for the
purpose, and beaten by the women servants. The in¬
strument used for this purpose is a square wooden club,
having each of its four sides or faces mai'ked, length¬
wise, with small grooves, or fun-ows, of different de¬
grees of fineness j those on one side being of a width
and depth sufficient to receive a small pack-thread, and
the others finer in a regular gradation, so that the last
are not more than equal to sewing silk. They beat it
first with the coarsest side of this mallet, keeping time
like our smiths j it spreads very fast under the strokes,
chiefly however in the bi*eadtb, and the gi-ooves in the
mallet mark it with the appearance of threads $ it is
successively beaten with the oilier sides, last with the
finest, and is then fit for use. Of this cloth there are
several sorts, of different degrees of fineness, in pro¬
portion as it is more or less beaten. The other cloth al¬
so difl’ers in proportion as it is beaten ; but they differ
from each other in consequence of the different mate¬
rials of which they are made. The bark of the bread¬
fruit is not taken till the trees are considerably longer
and thicker than those of the mulberry; the process af¬
terwards is the same.—Of the bark, too, of a tree which
they call poerou*, they manufacture excellent matting; *jHibiscw
botli a coarse sort which serves them to sleep upon, and
a finer to wear in wet weather. Of the same bark they 1,11186
also make ropes and lines, from the thickness of an inch
to the size of a small pack-thread.
Bark, or JemtVs Bark, is a name given by way of
eminence to the quinquina, or cinchona. See Cin¬
chona.
Bark, in Navigation, ft general name given to small
ships; it is, however, peculiarly appropriated by seamen
to those which carry three masts without a mizen top¬
sail. Our northern mariners, who are trained in the
coal-trade, apply this distinction to a broad-sterned
ship which carries no ornamental figure on the stern or
prow.
IFater-BARKs, are little vessels used in Holland tor
the carriage of fresh water to places where it is want-
' ing,
BAR
Bark
II
Barley.
ing, as well as for the fetching sea-water to make salt
of. They have a deck, and are filled with water up to
the deck.
BARK-Binding, a distemper incident to trees ; cured
by slitting the bark, or cutting along the grain.
Bark-Galling, is when the trees are galled with
thorns, &c. It is cured by binding clay on the galled
places.
BARK-Longue, or Barca Longa, a small, low, sharp-
built, but very long vessel, without a deck. It goes
with sails and oars, and is very common in Spain.
BARKHAMSTEAD, or Berkhamstead, a town
of1 Hertfordshire in England, seems to have been the
site of a Roman town. It had formerly a strong castle,
which has long since been demolished. Population
1963 in 1811. W. Long. o. 35. N. Lat. 45. 49.
BARKING, a town of Essex, in England, with
2421 inhabitants, seated on the river Roding, not far
from the Thames, in a very unwholesome air. It has
been chiefly noted for a large monastery, now in ruins;
there being nothing left standing but a small part of the
walls and a gate-house. E. Long. o. 13. N. Lat. 51.
Barking of Trees, the peeling off the rind or bark.
This must be done, in our climate, in the month of
May, because at that time the sap of the tree separates
the bark from the wood. It would be very difficult
to perform it at any other time of the year, unless the
season was extremely wet and rainy j for heat and dry¬
ness are a very great hindrance to it.
By the French laws, all dealers are forbid to bark
their wood while growing, on the penalty of 500 livres.
This law was the result of ignorance 5 it being now
found that barking of trees, and letting them die, in¬
creases the strength of timber.
BARKLEY, a town of Gloucestershire in England,
seated on a branch of the river Severn, with 616 inhabi¬
tants in 1811. It had formerly a nunnery, and has still
the title of a barony. W. Long. 2. 30. N. Lat. 51. 40.
BARKWA1, a town of Hertfordshire in Eng¬
land, on the great road from London to York. W.
Long. o. 5. N. Lat. 52.
BARLiEUS, Caspar, professor of philosophy at
Amsterdam, and one of the best Latin poets of the
17th century. There was scarce any thing great that
happened in the world, while he lived, but he made a
pompous elegy upon it, when reasons of state were no
obstacle to it.. He was a great defender of Arminius j
and showed his abilities in history by his relation of
what passed in Brasil during the government of Count
Maurice of Nassau, published in 1647. He died the
year after.
BARLERIA, Snap-Dragon. See Botany Index.
, BARLETTA, a handsome and strong town of Italy,
in the kingdom of Naples, and in the Terra di Bari,
with a bishop’s see. It is situated on the gulf of Ve¬
nice, in E. Long. 16. 32. N. Lat. 41. 30.
BARLEY, in Botany. See Hordeum, Botany
and Agriculture Index.
The principal use of barley among us is for making
beer; in order to which it is first malted. See the a£
tide Beer.
The Spaniards, among whom malt liquors are little
known, feed their horses with barley as we do with
oats. In Scotland, barley is a common ingredient in
TTT T> i. r T
[ 401 ]
BAR
Vol. Ill, Part II.
f
broths j and the consumpt of it for that purpose is very
considerable, barley-broth being a dish as frequent there
as that of soup in France.
Bearl Barley, and French Barley ; barley freed
of the husk by a mill $ the distinction between the two
being, that the pearl barley is reduced to the size of
small shot, all but the very heart of the grain being
ground away.
Barley-TBiter, is a decoction of either of these, re¬
puted soft and lubricating, of frequent use in physic.
This well known decoction is a very useful drink in
many disorders ; and is recommended, with nitre, by
some authors of reputation, in slow fevers.
BARLEY-Corn is used to denote along measure, con¬
taining in length the third part of an inch, and in
breadth the eighth. The Irench carpenters also use
barley-corn, gram d'orge, as equivalent to a line, or
the twelfth part of an inch.
. BARLEY-Corn {grain d'orge), is also used in build¬
ing for a little cavity between the mouldings of joiners
work, served to separate or keep them asunder 5 thus
called because made of a kind of plane of the same
name.
BARLOW, William, bishop of Chichester, de¬
scended of an ancient family in Wales, was born in the
county of Essex. In his youth he favoured the Refor¬
mation ; and travelled to Germany to be instructed by
Luther, and other preachers of the new doctrine.
How long he continued a Protestant is uncertain : but
from his letter to King Henry VIII. quoted below, it
appears that he wrote several books against the church
of Rome. However, he was a regular canon in the
Augustine monastery of St Osith in the county of Es¬
sex, and studied some time at Oxford with the brothers
of that order, where he took the degree of doctor in
divinity.. He was then made prior of the convent at
Bisham in Berkshire j and afterwards succeeded to the
several priories of Blackmore, Typtree, Lega, Brom-
hole, and H.averford-west. On the dissolution of ab¬
beys, he resigned not only with a good grace, but per¬
suaded several other abbots to follow his example.
King Henry was so pleased with his ready obedience
on this occasion, that he sent him, in 1535, on an
embassy to Scotland ; in the same year made him bi¬
shop of St A.saph ; in two months after, translated him
to the see of St David’s, and in 1547 °f Bath
and Wells. During this time, our good bishop, as
appears from the following epistle to the king, was, or
pretended to be, a staunch Papist: it was written in
il Prayse be to God, who of his infynyte good¬
ness and mercy inestymable hath brought me out of
darkness into light, and from deadly ignorance into the
quick knowledge of the truth. From which, through
the fiend’s instigation and false persuasion, I have great¬
ly swerved. In so much that I have made certayn
bokes, and have suffered them to be emprinted, as the
tretise of the Buryall of the Mass, &$c. In these tre-
tises I perceive and acknowledge myself grievously to
have erred, namely against the blessed sacrament of the
altare disallowing the masse and denying purgatory,
with slanderous infamy of the pope and my lord car¬
dinal, and outrageous rayling against the clergy ;
which I have forsaken and utterly renounced—Asks
pardon William Barlow.” However, when Edward VI.
came to the crown, he was again a Protestant; and for
3 P that
Barley
„ {l
Barlow.
BAR
[ 402 ]
BAR
Barlow, that reason, on Queen Mary’s accession, was deprived -
v '-"-s of his bishopric, and sent prisoner to the 1' leet, where
he continued some time. At length he found means
to escape, and immediately joined the other English
Protestants in Germany. When Queen Elizabeth as¬
cended the throne, our prelate was raised to the see of
Chichester, and soon after made first prebendary of the
collegiate church of Westminister. He died in 1568,
and was buried in the cathedral at Chichester. He
had five daughters, each of whom married a bishop.
He wrote, 1. The Buryal of the masse. 2. The climb¬
ing up of Fryers and religious Persons, portred with li-
gures. 3. Christian Homilies. 4. A book upon Cosmo¬
graphy. 5. The godly and pious Institution of a Chri¬
stian Man, commonly called the Bishop's Book ; and
several other works. He is said to be the translator of
the Apocrypha as far as the book of Wisdom. His
letters to M. Parker are in manuscript in Corpus Christi
college, Cambridge, Misc. i. 445.
Barlow, William, a mathematician and divine, the
son of the bishop of Chichester, was born in Pem¬
brokeshire whilst his father was bishop of St David’s.
In 1560, he was entered commoner of Baliol college in
Oxford*, and in 1564, took a degree in arts, which
having completed by determination, he left the uni¬
versity and went to sea 5 but in what capacity is un¬
certain : however, he acquired considerable knowledge
in the art of navigation. About the year 1573, he
entered into orders, and became prebendary of Win¬
chester and rector of Easton near that city. In 1588
he was made prebendary of Litchfield, which he ex¬
changed for the place of treasurer of that church. Some
years after, he was made chaplain to Prince Henx*y,
the son of King James 1. ; and in 1614, archdeacon of
Salisbury. He was the first writer on the nature and
properties of the magnet. Barlow died in the year
1625, and was buried in the church at Easton. His
works are, 1. “ The Navigator’s Supply, containing
many things of principal importance belonging to na¬
vigation, and use of diverse instruments framed chiefly
for that purpose.” London, 1597, 4to, Dedicated to
Robert earl of Essex. 2. “ Magnetical Advertisements,
or diverse pertinent Observations and approved Expe¬
riments concerning the Nature and Properties of the
Loadstone.” London, 1616, 4to. 3. “ A brief Dis¬
covery of the idle Animadversions of Mark Ridley,
M. D. upon a Treatise entitled Magnetical Advertise¬
ments.” London, 1618, 4to.
Barlow, Thomas, born in 1607, was appointed
fellow of Queen’s college in Oxford in 1633 5 ant^ tw0
years after was chosen reader of metaphysics to the uni¬
versity. He was keeper of the Bodleian library, and
in 1657 was chosen provost of Queen’s college. After
the restoration of King Charles II. he was nominated
one of the commissioners for restoring the members un¬
justly expelled in 1648. He wrote at that time The
Case of Toleration in Matters of Religion, to Mr R.
Boyle. In 1675, he was made bishop of Lincoln.
Atter the popish plot, he published several tracts
against the Roman catholic religion *, in which he
shows an uncommon extent of learning, and skill in
polemical divinity. Nevertheless, when the duke of
A ork was proclaimed king, he took all opportunities
of expressing his afiection toward him j but after the
revolution he as readily voted that the king had abdi-
2
cated his kingdom; and was very vigorous in excluding
those' of the clergy who refused the oaths, from their
benefices.
Mr Granger observes, that “ this learned prelate,
whom nature designed for a scholar, and who acted in
conformity with the bent of nature, was perhaps as
great a master of the learned languages, and of the
works of the celebrated authors who have written ia
those languages, as any man in his age. The greatest
part of his writings, of which Mr Wood has given us
a catalogue, are against Popery : and his conduct for
some time, like that of other Calvinists, appeared to
be in direct opposition to the church of Rome. But
after James ascended the throne, he seemed to approach
much nearer to Popery than he ever did before. Fie
sent the king an address of thanks for his declaration
for liberty of conscience, and is said to have written
reasons for reading that declaration. His compliances
were much the same after the revolution. His mo¬
deration, to call it by the softest name, was very great;
indeed so great as to bring the firmness of his charac¬
ter in question. But casuistry reconciles seeming con¬
tradictions. Fie was, abstracted from this laxity of
principles, a very great and worthy man.” He died at
Buckden, in Huntingdonshire, on the 8th of October
1691, in the 85th year of his age.
Barlow, Francis, an English painter, was born
in Lincolnshire. On his coming to London, he was
placed with one Shephard, a limner ; but his ge¬
nius led him chiefly to drawing of birds, fish, and
other animals. There are six books of animals from
his drawings, and he painted some ceilings with birds
for noblemen and gentlemen in the country. His
etchings are numerous ; his illustration of Esop is his
greatest work. He died in 1702. There is some¬
thing pleasing in the composition and manner of this
master, though neither is excellent. His drawing
. too is very indifferent; nor does he characterize any
animal justly. His birds in general are better than his
beasts.
Barlow, Joe/, an American literary and political
character. See Supplement.
BARM, the same with yest. See Yest.—Barm
is said to have been first used by the Celtee in the
composition of bread. About the time of Agricola’s
entrance into Lancashire, a new sort of loaf had been
introduced at Rome, which was formed only of wa¬
ter and flour, and much esteemed for its lightness:
and it was called the water cake from its simple com¬
position, and the Parthian roll from its original inven¬
tors. But even this was not comparable to the French
or Spanish bread for its lightness. The use of curmi
and the knowledge of brewing, had acquainted the
Celtes with an ingredient for their bread, which was
much better calculated to render it light and pleasant,
than the leaven, the eggs, the milk, or the wine and
honey, of other nations. This was the spume which
arose on the surface of their curmi in fermentation, and
which the Welch denominate harm, and we barm. The
Ceites of Gaul, of Spain, and most probably therefore
of South Britain, had long used it; and their bread
was, in consequence of this, superior in lightness to
that of any other nation in the worldt. See the ar*
tides Baking and Bread.
BARMAS, an East Indian people, who in 1515
possessed
* See Ale.
xviii. c. 1<
ii.
BAH [ 403 ] BAH
II irmas P0S3esse(l a‘! the coast extending from Bengal to Pegu.
|| It appears also, that they were formerly masters of
irnabas’s, Ava, the dominions of which extended as far as China 5
—*   and of consequence the Barmas were masters of most
of the northern parts of the peninsula beyond the Gan¬
ges. Their dominions, however, were afterwards re¬
duced to very narrow bounds, and their king became
tributary to the king of Pegu } but by degrees they not
only recovered their former empire, but conquered the
kingdoms of Pegu, Siam, and several others. By the
latest accounts, their kingdom extends from the pro¬
vince of Yun-nan in China, about 800 miles in length
from north to south, and 250 in breadth from east to
west. See Asia and Pegu.
BARN, in Husbandry, a covered place or house, with
air-holes in the sides, for laying up any sort of grain,
hay, or straw.
St BARNABAS’S Day, a Christian festival, cele¬
brated on the nth of June.—St Barnabas was born in
Cyprus, and descended of the tribe of Levi, whose
Jewish ancestors are thought to have retired thither to
secure themselves from violence during the troublesome
times in Judea. His proper name was Joses; to which,
after his conversion to Christianity, the apostles added
that o^i Barnabas, signifying either the son of prophecy,
or the son of consolation; the first respecting his eminent
prophetic gifts, the other his great charity in selling
his estate for the comfort and relief of the poor Chri¬
stians. He was educated at Jerusalem, under the great
Jewish doctor Gamaliel 5 which might probably lay
the foundation of that intimate friendship which was
afterwards contracted between this apostle and St Paul.
The time of his conversion is uncertain $ but he is ge¬
nerally esteemed one of the seventy disciples chosen by
our Saviour himself.
At Antioch, St Paul and St Barnabas had a con¬
test, which ended in their separation : but what fol¬
lowed it with respect to St Barnabas is not related in
the Acts of the Apostles. Some say, he went into Ita¬
ly, and founded a church at Milan. At Salamis, we
are told, he suffered martyrdom j whither some Jews,
being come out of Syria, set upon him, as he was dis¬
puting in the synagogue, and stoned him to death.
He was buried by his kinsman Mark, whom he had
taken with him, in a cave near that city. The re¬
mains of his body are said to have been discovered in
the reign of the emperor Zeno, together with a copy
of St Matthew’s gospel, written with his own hand,
and lying on his breast.
St Barnabas'1 s Epistle, an apocryphal work ascribed
to St Barnabas, and frequently cited by St Clement
of Alexandria and Origen, It was first published in
Greek, from a copy of Father Hugh Menard, a Bene¬
dictine monk. An ancient version of it was found in
a manuscript of the abbey of Coebey, near a thousand
years old. Vossius published it, in the year 1656, to¬
gether with the epistles of St Ignatius.
St Barnabas's Gospel, another apocryphal work,
ascribed to St Barnabas the apostle, wherein the history
of Jesus Christ is related in a manner very different
from the account given us by the four Evangelists.
The Mahometans have this gospel in Arabic, and it
corresponds very well with those traditions which Ma¬
homet followed in his Koran. It was, probably, a
forgery of some nominal Christians j and afterwards
altered and interpolated by the Mahometans, the better Barnabas’s
to serve their purpose. [|
BARNABI'l'ES, a religious order, founded in the Barneveldl.
16th century by three Italian gentlemen, who had been v J
advised by a famous preacher of those days to read
carefully the epistles of St Paul. Hence they were
called clerks of St Paul y and Barnabites, because they
performed their first exercise in a church of St Barna¬
bas at Milan. Their habit is black 5 and their office
to instruct, catechise, and serve in mission.
BARNACLE, a species of goose. See Anas, Or¬
nithology Index.
BARNACLES, in Farriery, an instrument com¬
posed of two branches joined at one end with a hinge,
to put upon horses noses when they will not stand quiet¬
ly to be shod, blooded, or dressed.
.BARNADESIA. See Botany Index.
BARNARD, or Bernard, John, the son of John
Barnard gent, was born at Castor in Lincolnshire, and
educated at Cambridge. After several preferments, be
was made a prebendary of the church of Lincoln. He
wrote Censura Clerior, against scandalous ministers not
fit to be restored to church livings ; the Life of Dr
Heylyn j and a few other works. He died at Newark,
August 17. 1683.
Barnard Castle, seated on the river Tees in the
county of Durham, is a town and barony belonging to
Vane earl of Darlington. It is indifferently large, and
has a manufactory of stockings. W. Long. 1. 45.
N. Lat. 54. 35.
BARNES, Joshua, professor of the Greek language
at Cambridge, in the beginning of the 18th century.
He was chosen queen’s professor of Greek in 1695, a
language he wrote and spoke with the utmost facility.
His first publication was a whimsical tract, entitled
Gerania, or a New Discovery of the little sort of people
called Pygmies. After that appeared his Life of Ed¬
ward III . in which he introduces his hero making
long and elaborate speeches. In the year 1700, when
he published many of his works, Mrs Mason, of Hem-
mingford, in Huntingdonshire, a widow lady of be¬
tween 40 and 50, with a jointure of 200I. per annum,
who had been for some time a great admirer of him,
came to Cambridge, and desired leave to settle look
a-year upon him after her death j which he politely
refused, unless she would likewise condescend to make
him happy with her person, which was not very enga¬
ging. The lady was too obliging to refuse any thing
to Joshua, for whom she said, “ the sun stood still 5”
and they were accordingly married. Mr Barnes wrote
several other books besides those above mentioned, par¬
ticularly, Sacred Poems; The Life of Oliver Cromwell,
the Tyrant; several dramatic pieces ; a poetical Para¬
phrase on the History of Esther, in Greek verse, with a
Latin translation, &c. : and he published editions of
Euripides, Anacreon, and Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey,
with notes and a Latin translation. He wrote with
greater ease in Greek than even in English, and yet is
generally allowed not to have understood the delicacies
of that language. He was of such a humane disposition,
and so unacquainted with the world, that he gave his
only coat to a vagrant begging at his door. This ex¬
cellent man died on the 3d of August 1712, in the 58th
year of his age.
BARNEVELDT, John d’Olden, the celebrated
3 E 2 Dutch
BAR [ 404 ] BAR
Barneveldt Dutch statesman, and one of the founders of the civil
I! . liberty of Holland. His patriotic zeal inducing him to
, Bargee!. ^ t|ie authority of Maurice prince of Orange the se-
"~"v cond stadtholder of Holland, the partizans of that prince
falsely accused him of a design to deliver his country in¬
to the hands of the Spanish monarch. On this absurd
charge he was tried by 2t5 commissaries deputed from
the seven provinces, condemned, and beheaded in 1619.
H is sons William and Rene, with a view of revenging
their father’s death, formed a conspiracy against the
stadtholder, which was discovered. William fled : but
Rene was taken and condemned to die ; which fatal
circumstance has immortalized the memory of his mo¬
ther, of whom the following anecdote is recorded. She
solicited a pardon for Rene; upon which Maurice ex¬
pressed his surprise that she should do that for her son
which she had refused for her husband. To this remark,
she replied with indignation, “ I would not ask a par¬
don for my husband, because he was innocent. I soli¬
cit it for my son, because he is guilty.”
BARNET, a town partly in Middlesex and partly
in Hertfordshire. It is a great thoroughfare, and the
market is very remarkable for hogs. Population 1579.
W. Long, o. 5. N. Lat. 51. 42.
BARNSLEY, or Black Barnsley, a town of the
west riding of Yorkshire, seated on the side of a hill,
and five furlongs in length, and containing 5014 in¬
habitants in 1811. W. Long. 1. 20. N. Lat. 53. 35.
BARNSTABLE, a sea-port town of Devonshire,
seated on the river Tau, over which there is a good
bridge. It sends two members to parliament, and had
4019 inhabitants in 18x1. W. Long. 4. 5. N. Lat.
51' 15-
BARO, or Baron, Peter, professor of divinity in
the university of Cambridge, in the 16th century, was
born at Estampes in France, and educated in the uni¬
versity of Bourges, where he was admitted a licentiate
in the law : but being of the Protestant religion, he
was obliged to leave his native country to avoid perse¬
cution ; and withdrawing into England, was kindly en¬
tertained by Lord Burleigh. He afterwards settled at
Cambridge; and by the recommendation of his noble
patron, was, in I574> chosen Lady Margaret’s profes¬
sor there. For some years he quietly enjoyed his pro¬
fessorship ; but there was at last raised a restless fac¬
tion against him, by his opposing the doctrine of abso¬
lute predestination ; which rendered his place so un¬
easy to him, that he chose to leave the university, and
to settle in London. He wrote, 1. In Jonam Prophe-
tam Praleciiones xxxix. 2. De Prcestantia et P)ig-
mtcite Divmce Lcgis ; and other pieces. He died in
London, about the year 1600.
BAROCCI, Frederic, a celebrated painter, was
born at Urbino, where the genius of Raphael inspired
him. . In his early youth he travelled to Rome; where
he painted several things in fresco. He then returned
to Urbino ; and giving himself up to intense study, ac¬
quired a great name in painting. His genius particu¬
larly led him to religious subjects. At his leisure hours,
he etched a few prints from his own designs ; which are
highly finished, and executed with great softness and
delicacy. The Salutation is his capital performance in
that way: of which we seldom meet with any impres¬
sions, but those taken from the retouched plate, which
are very harsh. He died at Urbino in 1612, aged 84.
BAROCHE, or I3r.o.acHj r town of* CL'cimliciycij m
Hindostan j it is walled round, and was formerly a II
place of great trade. It is now inhabited by weavers ^arometet.
and such mechanics as manufacture cotton cloth. Here
they have the best cotton in the world, and the best
bastas are manufactured in this place. It was taken
possession of by the'British in iSo3,and is still retain¬
ed by them. E. Long. 72. 5. N. Lat. 22. 15.
BAROCO, in Logic, a term given to the fourth
mode of the second figure of syllogisms. A syllogism
in baroco has the first proposition universal and affirma¬
tive, but the second and third particular and negative,
and the middle term is the predicate in the two first
propositions. For example,
Nullus homo non est bipes :
Non onine animal est bipes :
Non omne animal est homo.
BAROMETER (from /3^.„ weight, and
measure'), an instrument for measuring the weight of
the atmosphere, and of use in foretelling the changes of
the weather, and also for measuring the height of moun¬
tains, &c. _ * - hift -i. Bj
The common barometer consists cf a glass tube her-Principles
nietically sealed at one end, and filled with quicksilver the ba.
well defecated and purged of its air. The finger being
then placed on the open end, in immediate contact
with the mercury, so as not to admit the least particle
of air, the tube is inverted, and the lower end plung¬
ed into a bason of the same prepared mercury ; then
upon removing the finger, the mercury in the tube
will join that in the bason, and the mercurial column
in the tube will subside to the height of 29 or 30
inches, according to the state of the atmosphere at
that time. This is the principle on which all barome¬
ters are constructed. Of their invention, the differ¬
ent kinds of them, and the theories by which their phe¬
nomena are solved, we shall proceed to give an histori¬
cal account.
In the beginning of the last century, when the doc-Discovered
trine of a plenum was in vogue, philosophers were of by Galileo,
opinion, that the ascent of water in pumps was owing an‘j’ni!50"
to the abhorrence of a vacuum ; and that by means of^jj-^
suction, fluids might be raised to any height whatever.
But Galileo, who flourished about that time, discovered
that water could not ascend in a pump unless the sucker
reached within 33 feet of its surface in the well. From
hence he concluded, that not the power of suction, but
the pressure of the atmosphere, was the cause of the as¬
cent of water in pumps ; that a column of w ater 33 feet
high was a counterpoise to one of air, of an equal base,
whose height extended to the top of the atmosphere;
and that lor this reason the water would not follow the
sucker any farther. From this Torricelli, Galileo’s dis¬
ciple, took the hint ; and considered, that if a column
of water of about 33 feet in height was equal in weight
to one of air having the same base, a column of mercury
no longer than about 29^ inches would be so too, be¬
cause mercury being about 14 times heavier than water,
a column of mercury must be 14 times shorter than one
of water equally heavy. Accordingly, having filled a
glass tube with mercury, and inverted it into a bason of
the same, he found the mercury in the tube to descend
till it stood about 29£ inches above the surface of that
in the bason.
la
a
fiii
J11
lil
a
1 \
!' 'sti
' III
3
Notwithstanding
]
•othciis of
jinus.
4
'xperi-
lents in
onfirtna-
on of it
5
:futed.
BAR [ 405
Barometer. Notwithstanding this clear proof of the pressure of ing in
— « ' the atmosphere, however, the assertors of a plenum left
, ^ k no means untried to solve the phenomena of the Tor-
•othefis of 1'icellian experiment by some other hypothesis. The
most ridiculous solution, and which at the same time
gave the adverse party the greatest difficulty to over¬
throw it, was that of Linus. Pie contended, that in the
upper part of the tube, there is a film or rope of mer¬
cury, extended through the seeming vacuity ; and that,
by this rope, the rest of the mercury was suspended,
and kept from falling into the bason. Even this so ab¬
surd hypothesis he pretended to confirm by the follow¬
ing experiments. Take, says he, a small tube, open at
both ends, suppose about 20 inches long; fill this tube
with mercury, stopping the lower orifice with your
thumb: Then closing the upper end with your finger,
and immerging the lower in stagnant mercury, you shall
perceive, upon the removal of your thumb, a manifest
suction of your finger into the tube j and the tube and
mercury will both stick so close to it that you may car¬
ry them about the room. Therefore, says he, the in¬
ternal cylinder of mercury in the tube is not held up by
the preponderate air without ; for if so, whence comes
so strong a suction, and so firm an adhesion of the tube
to the finger?—The same effect follows, though the
tube be not quite filled with mercury \ for if a little
space of air is left at the top, after the tube is immerged
in the stagnant mercury, there will be a considerable
suction as before.
These experiments, which are themselves clear proofs
of the pressure of the air, supported for some time the
funicular hypothesis, as it was called, of Linus. But
when it was discovered, that if the tube was carried
to the top of a high mountain the mercury stood lower
than on the plain, and that if removed into the vacuum
<> of an air-pump it fell out altogether, the hypothesis of
mark- Linus was rejected by every body.—There, are, how-
isnts {^n*ever> two experiments which create a considerable dif¬
ficulty. One is mentioned by Mr Huygens, viz. that
if a glass tube 75 inches long, or perhaps longer, is
filled with mercury well purged of its air, and then in¬
verted, the whole will remain suspended j whereas, ac¬
cording to the Torricellian experiment, it ought to sub¬
side immediately to the height of 29 or 30 inches. It
is true indeed, that, upon shaking the tube, the mer¬
cury presently subsides to that height ; but why it
should remain suspended at all, more than twice the
height to which it can be raised by the pressure of the
7 most dense atmosphere, seems not easily accounted for:
Latisfac-and accordingly, in the Philosophical Transactions we
c iHedC" a^eraP^s account for it by the pressure of a me-
dium more subtile than the common air, and capable
It phical pervading both the mercury and glass. We find
there also another very surprising fact of the same
kind mentioned ; viz. that a pretty large tube under 29
inches in length, filled with mercury, and inverted into
a bason of the same, will remain full,, though there he
a small hole in the top. This too, is there accounted
for by the pressure of a medium more subtile than com¬
mon air; but by no means in a satisfactory manner. Mr
solu. Howning, who mentions the phenomenon of the 75
inch tube, accounts for it in the following manner.
“ The cause of this phenomenon seems to be, that by
the great weight of so long a column of mercury, it
was pressed into so close contact with the glass in pour-
tbat.
BAR
by the mutual attraction of cohesion be- Barometer.
tween the mercury and the glass, the whole column
wTas sustained after the tube was inverted.”—Here,
however, we must observe, that this solution seems
9
Insufli-
cient.
nts by
' Huy-
f u.
3insao.
t, s.
^ Kow-
ni
ti
equally unsatisfactory with that of the subtile medium
already mentioned ; because it is only one end of the co¬
lumn which sustains so great a pressure from the weight
of the mercury 5 and therefore, though five or six inches
of the upper part of the tube, where the pressure had
been strongest, might thus remain full of mercury, yet
the rest ought to fall down. Besides, it is only the out¬
side of the mercurial column that is in contact with the
glass, and consequently these parts only ought to be at¬
tracted. Therefore, even granting the pressure to be
equally violent, on the inversion of the tube, all the way
from 29 to 75 inches, yet the glass ought to be only as
it were silvered over by a very thin film of mercury,
while the middle parts of the column ought to fall out
by reason of their fluidity.
The other experiment hinted at, is with regard to Another
siphons : which, though it belongs more properly to the experiment
article Hydrostatics, yet seems necessary to be men-w’t'1 s**
tioned here. It is this: That a siphon, once set a run-^"om
ning, will continue to do so though set under the re¬
ceiver of an air-pump and the air exhausted in the most
perfect manner j or if a siphon is filled, and then set
under a receiver and the air exhausted, if by any con¬
trivance the end of the lower leg is opened, it will im¬
mediately begin to run, and discharge the water of any
vessel in which the other leg is placed, as though it was
in the open air. The cause of this phenomenon, as
well as the former, seems very difficult to be investi¬
gated. Some philosophers have attempted a solution
on a principle something similar to that of the funi-
cular hypothesis of Linus above-mentioned; namely,Another
that “ fluids in siphons seem as it were to form one con-so^u^on“
tinned body ; so that the heavier part, descending, like
a chain pulls the lighter after it.” This might be
deemed a sufficient explanation, if the siphon were,
only to empty the water it at first contains in itself:
but when we consider that the water in the vessel,
which much exceeds the quantity contained in the dent,
siphon, is likewise evacuated, this hypothesis can
by no means be admitted ; because this would be
like the lighter part of a chain pulling the heavier af¬
ter it.
Concerning the cause of these singular phenomena, Another so-
we can only offer the following conjecture. The ex-dution from
istence of a medium much more subtile than air, and ^ jact*°u
which pervades the vacuum of an air-pump with the eC
utmost facility, is now sufficiently ascertained in the
phenomena of electricity. It is also well known, that
this fluid surrounds the whole earth to an indeterminate
height. If, therefore, this fluid either is the power of
gravity itself, or is acted upon by that power, it must
necessarily press upon all terrestrial bodies in a manner
similar to the pressure of the atmosphere. If then
we could from any vessel entirely exclude this subtile
fluid, and form an electrial vacuum, as well as we can
do an aerial one by means of the air-pump, we would
in that case see fluids as evidently raised by the pressure
of the electric matter, as we now see them raised by
that of the air. But though this cannot be done, w.e
are assured that there are certain substances, of which
glass is one, through which the electric manner cannot
pass >•,
12
Insuffi-
BAR
[ 4°6 ]
BAR
Barometer, pass but with difficulty. We are likewise certain, that
—v—■ though the electric matter passes through the pores of wa¬
ter, metals, &c. with very great facility, yet it still must
meet with some resistance from their solid and impene¬
trable parts, which cannot be pervaded by any material
substance. We know also, that all substances do na¬
turally contain a certain quantity of this electric mat¬
ter, which they are not always ready to part with *, and
when by any means the fluid they contain is set in mo¬
tion, they are then said to be electrified. Now, though
we are certain, that the friction of glass by mercury
does set in motion the electric fluid contained in the
mercury or in the glass j vet when the tube is filled
with the metallic fluid, whatever quantity has been
extricated either from the glass or mercury during
the time of filling, will be re-absorbed again by the me¬
tal and conveyed to the earth during the time of in¬
version ; and consequently, the mercurial tube, when
inverted, will not be electrified, but both glass and
mercury will be in their natural state. Here, then, the
pressure of the electrical fluid is kept olf in some mea¬
sure from the upper part of the mercury by the glass,
which it cannot penetrate easily at least. To the
mercury in the bason it has free access, and therefore
presses more upon the lower than the upper part 5 the
consequence of which is a suspension of the mercury.
It is true, this fluid very easily penetrates the metallic
matter ; but it must be considered, that the electric fluid
itself is in some measure entangled in the particles of
the quicksilver, and cannot be extricated without mo¬
tion. As soon therefore as the tube is shaken, some
part of the electricity is extricated, and the mercury
begins to descend. The subtility of the medium is such,
that no sooner has it begun to extricate itself, than, by
the motion of the metal downwards, it issues forth in
great quantities, so as to become visible, like a blue
flame, in the dark. The equilibrium is therefore de¬
stroyed in an instant, as it would be were we to admit
air to the top of the barometer $ nay, in a more effec¬
tual manner. For if a small quantity of air was ad¬
mitted to the top of a barometer, the mercury would
only descend in proportion to the quantity of air ad¬
mitted j but here, no sooner is a quantity of electric
matter admitted, than it procures admission for a vast
deal more, and consequently the mercury descends with
accelerated velocity.—On this principle the ascent of
water in the siphon while in vacuo is so easily accounted
for, that we need not take up time in explaining it far¬
ther.—But why an inverted glass tube should remain
full of mercury when it has a hole either great or small
in the top, is more difficult to be accounted for, and
requires this farther circumstance to be taken into con¬
sideration, viz. that though all solid bodies will, by the
action of gravity, or byany otherimpulse, easily approach
very near to one another, yet they cannot be brought
into absolute contact without a very considerable force,
much greater than is sufficient to overcome their gravity j
and thus it appears from some experiments, that the
links of a chain are by no means in contact with one
another, till the chain has a considerable weight append¬
ed to it. Ibis may be the case with the tube in que¬
stion. The air by its gravity descends upon it, and is
ready to enter the small hole in the top $ but, by a re¬
pulsive power from the glass, its action is prevented, so
that the mercury cannot fall.
It was, however, some time after the Torricellian ex- BaromeUr
periment had been made, and even after it had been —y—
universally agreed that the suspension of the mercury 14
was owing to the weight of the atmosphere, before it ®a™metw
was discovered that this pressure of the air was different io1,.
1 , pro^nosti-
at different times though the tube was kept in the same catmo-the
place. But the variations of altitude in the mercurial weather,
column were too obvious to remain long unobserved j
and accordingly philosophers soon became careful enough
to mark them. When this was done, it was impossible
to avoid observing also, that the changes in the height
of the mercury were accompanied, or very quickly suc¬
ceeded, by changes in the weather. Hence the instru¬
ment obtained the name of the weather-glass, and was
generally made use of with a view to the fore-knowledge
of the weather. In this character, its principal pheno¬
mena are as IVilow : ^
1. The rising of the mercury presages, in general, Its pheno-
fair weather j and its falling, foul weather, as rain, mei>a as a
snow, high winds, and storms. "lash"M
2. In very hot weather, the falling of the mercuryr
foreshows thunder.
3. In winter, the rising presages frost-, and in frosty
weather, if the mercury falls three or four divisions,
there will certainly follow a thaw. But in a continued
frost, if the mercury rises, it will certainly snow.
4. When foul weather happens soon after the falling
of the mercury, expect but little of it j and, on the
contrary, expect hut little fair weather when it proves
fair shortly after the mercury has risen.
5. In foul weather, when the mercury rises much
and high, and thus continues for two or three days be¬
fore the foul weather is quite over, then expect a conti¬
nuance of fair weather to follow.
6. In fair weather, when the mercury falls much and
low, and thus continues for two or three days before
the rain comes, then expect a great deal of wet, and
probably high winds.
7. The unsettled motion of the mercury denotes un¬
certain and changeable weather.
8. You are not so strictly to observe the words en¬
graven on the plates (though in general it will agree
with them), as the mercury’s rising and falling. For if
it stand at much rain, and then rises up to changeable,
it presages fair w'eatherj though not to continue so long
as if the mercury had risen higher : and so, on the con¬
trary, if the mercury stood at fair, and falls to change¬
able, it presages foul weather j though not so much of
it as if it had sunk lower.
These are the observations of Mr Patrick, on which Remarks
Mr Rowning makes the following remarks : “ From ^r.
these observations it appeax-s, that it is not so muchKoW
the height of the mercury in the tube that indicates
the weather, as the motion of it up and down : where¬
fore, iri order to pass a right judgment of what weather
is to be expected, we ought to know whether the mer¬
cury is actually x-ising or falling j to which end the fol¬
lowing rules are of use.
“ 1. If the surface of the mercury is convex, stand-
ing higher in the middle of the tube than at the sides,
it is generally a sign that the mercury is then rising.
“ 2. If the surface is concave, it is then sinking:
and,
“ 3- ^ is plain, the mercury is stationary j or ra¬
ther, if it is a little convex : for mercury being put into
16
BAR [ 407 ] BAR
trnmeter. a g^ass tube, especially a small one, will naturally have
.—its surface a little convex, because the particles of mer¬
cury attract one another more forcibly than they are
attracted by glass. Further,
“ 4. If the glass is small, shake the tube; and if
the air is grown heavier, the mercury will rise about
half the tenth of an inch higher than it stood before ;
if it is grown lighter, it will sink as much. This pro¬
ceeds from the mercury’s sticking to the sides of the
tube, which prevents the free motion of it till it is dis¬
engaged by the shock : and therefore, when an obser¬
vation is to be made with such a tube, it ought always
to be shaken first ; for sometimes the mercury will not
vary of its own accord, till the weather it ought to have
jy indicated is present.
' ese phe- Here we must observe, that the above-mentioned
! aena pe* phenomena a.re peculiar to places lying at a consider-
t' tempe- a^e ^*stance from equator; for, in the torrid zone,
1 e and the mercury in the barometer seldom either rises or
j ;id falls much. In Jamaica, it is observed by Sir Wil-
!ies; liam Beeston *, that the mercury in the morning con-
amact stantly stood at one degree below changeable, and at
: 2;J0> * noon sunk to one degree above rain ; so that the whole
scale of variation there was only t3q- of an inch. At
St Helena, too, where Dr Halley made his observations,
he found the mercury to remain wholly stationary what¬
ever weather happened. Of these phenomena, their
causes, and why the barometer indicates an approaching
change of weather, the Doctor gives us the following
18 account :
Ihnoraena “ 1. In calm weather, when the air is inclined to
1 .liebaro-ra|n^ j]ie mercury ]s commonly low.
vl bySDr 2* serene» g00fl> and settled weather, the mer-
I'lley. cury is generally high.
“ 3. Upon very great winds, though they be not
accompanied with rain, the mercury sinks lowest of all.
With relation to the point of the compass the wind
blows upon,
“ 4. Cceteris paribus, the greatest heights of the mer¬
cury are found upon easterly, or north-easterly, winds.
“ 5. In calm frosty weather, the mercury generally
stands high.
“ 6. After very great storms of wind, when the mer¬
cury has been very low, it generally rises again very
fast.
“ 7. The more northerly places have greater altera¬
tions of the barometer than the more southerly.
“ 8. Within the tropics, and near them, those ac¬
counts we have had from others, and my own observa¬
tions at St Helena, make very little or no variation of
the height of the mercury in all weathers.
“ Hence I conceive, that the principal cause of the
rise and fall of the mercury is from the variable winds
which are found in the temperate zones, and whose great
inconstancy here in England is notorious.
“ A second cause is, the uncertain exhalation and
precipitation of the vapours lodging in the air, where¬
by it comes to be at one time much more crowded than
at another, and consequently heavier ; but this latter
depends in a great measure upon the former. Now
from these principles I shall endeavour to explicate the
several phenomena of the barometer, taking them in the
same order f have laid them down. Thus,
“ I. The mercury’s being lower inclines it to rain \
because th-s air being light, the vapours are no longer
supported thereby, being become specifically heavier
than the medium wherein they floated ; so that they
descend towards the earth, and, in their fall, meeting
with other aqueous particles, they incorporate toge¬
ther, and form little drops of rain : but the mercury’s
being at one time lower than another, is the effect of
two contrary winds blowing from the place where the
barometer stands; whereby the air of that place is car¬
ried both ways from it, and consequently the incumbent
cylinder of air is diminished, and accordingly the mer¬
cury sinks : As, for instance, if in the German ocean it
should blow a gale of westerly wind, and at the same
time, an easterly wind in the Irish sea 5 or, if in France
it should blow a northerly wind, and in Scotland a
southerly ; it must be granted, that that part of the
atmosphere impendant over England would thereby be
exhausted and attenuated, and the mercury would sub¬
side, and the vapours which before floated in these parts
of the air of equal gravity with themselves would sink
to the earth.
“ 2. The greater height of the barometer is occa¬
sioned by two contrary winds blowing towards the
place of observation, whereby the air of other places is
brought thither and accumulated ; so that the incum¬
bent cylinder of air being increased both in height and
weight, the mercury pressed thereby must needs stand
high, as long as the wind continues so to blow ; and
then the air being specifically heavier, the vapours are
better kept suspended, so that they have no inclination
to precipitate and fall down in drops, which is the rea¬
son of the serene good weather which attends the greater
heights of the mercury.
3. The mercury sinks the lowest of all by the very
rapid motion of the air in storms of wind. For the
tract or region of the earth’s surface, wherein the winds
rage, not extending all round the globe, that stagnant
air which is left behind, as likewise that on the sides,
cannot come in so fast as to supply the evacuation made
by so swift a current', so that the air must necessarily
be attenuated when and where the said winds continue
to blow, and that more or less according to their vio¬
lence : add to which, that the horizontal motion of the
air being so quick as it is, may in all probability take
off some part of the perpendicular pressure thereof 5
and the great agitation of its particles is the reason why
the vapours are dissipated, and do not condense into
drops so as to form rain, otherwise the natural conse¬
quence of the air’s rarefaction.
“ 4. The mercury stands highest upon the easterly
and north-easterly winds ; because in the great Atlantis
ocean, on this side the 35th degree of north latitude,
the winds are almost always westerly or south-westerly j
so that whenever here the wind comes up at east and
north-east, it is sure to be checked by a contrary gale
as soon as it reaches the ocean 5 wherefore, according
to our second remark, the air must needs be heaped
over this island, and consequently the mercury must
stand high as often as these winds blow. This holds
true in this country ; but is not a general rule for others,
where the winds are under different circumstances :
and l have sometimes seen the mercury here as low as
29 inches upon an easterly wind ; but then it blew ex¬
ceedingly hard, and so comes to be accounted for by
what was observed in the third remark.
“ 5. 3n calm frosty weather the mercury generally
stands
BAH [ 408 ] B
Barometer, stands high 5 because (as I conceive) it seldom freezes fore, and rise after, rain.
A R
19
Objections
to this
theory.
but when the winds come out of the northern and
north-eastern quarters, or at least unless those winds
blow at no great distance off. For the north parts of
Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and all that
tract from whence north-eastern winds come, are subject
to almost continual frost all the winter: and thereby the
lower air is very much condensed, and in that state is
brought hitherward by those winds, and, being accu¬
mulated by the opposition of the westerly wind blowing
in the ocean, the mercury must needs be pressed to a
more than ordinary height j and as a concurring cause,
the shrinking of the lower parts of the air into lesser
room by cold, must needs cause a descent of the upper
parts of the atmosphere, to reduce the cavity made by
this contraction to an equilibrium.
“ 6. After great storms, when the mei’cury has been
very low, it generally rises again very fast: I once ob¬
served it to rise one inch and a half in less than six
hours after a long-continued storm of south-west wind.
The reason is, because the air being very much rare¬
fied by the great evacuations which such continued
storms make thereof, the neighbouring air runs in the
more swiftly to bring it to an equilibrium $ as we
see water runs the faster for having a greater decli-
vity.
“ 7. The variations are greater in the more northerly
places, as at Stockholm greater than at Paris (compared
by M. Paschal) j because the more northerly parts have
usually greater storms of wind than the more southerly,
whereby the mercury should sink lower in that ex¬
treme } and then the northerly winds bringing in the
more dense and ponderous air from the neighbourhood
of the pole, and that again being checked by a southerly
wind at no great distance, and so heaped, must of neces¬
sity make the mercury in such case stand higher in the
other extreme.
“ 8. Lastly, This remark, that there is little or no
variation near the equinoctial, does above all others
confirm the hypothesis of the variable winds being the
cause of these variations of the height of the mercury ;
for in the places above named there is always an easy
gale of wind blowing nearly upon the same point, viz.
E. N. E. at Barbadoes, and E. S. E. at St Helena $
so that there being no contrary currents of air to ex¬
haust or accumulate it, the atmosphere continues much
in the same state : however, upon hurricanes, the
most violent of storms, the mercury has been observ¬
ed very low ; but this is but once in two or three
years, and it soon recovers its settled state, about 2oi
inches.”
This theory has been controverted, and the princi¬
pal objections are, “ That if the wind was the sole
agent in raising or depressing the mercury, the altera¬
tions of its height in the barometer would be only re¬
lative or topical 5 there would still be the same quanti¬
ty supported at several places taken collectively : thus
what a tube at London lost, another at Paris, Pisa, or
Zurich, &c. would gain. But the contrary is found
to be the case } for, from all the observations hitherto
made, the barometers in several distant parts of the
globe rise and fall together. This is a very surprising
and deserves to be well examined. Again, set-
fact
ting aside all other objections, it is impossible, on Dr
Halley’s hypothesis, to explain the mercury’s fall be-
For suppose two contrary Barometef
winds sweeping the air from over London : We know 1 ' j
that few if any of the winds reach above a mile high $
all therefore they can do will be to cut off a certain
part of the column of air over London : if the conse¬
quence of this be the fall of the mercury, yet there is
no apparent reason for the rains following it. The
vapours indeed may be let lower 5 but it rvill only be
till they come into an air of the same specific gravity
with themselves 5 and there they will stick as before.
Lastly, it is impossible, according to the laws of fluids,
that the air above any place could be exhausted by the
blowing of two contrary winds from it; for, suppose a
north-east and south-west wind both blow from London
at the same time, there will be two others at the same
time blowing towards it from opposite points, viz. a
north-west and south-east one, which will every moment
restore the equilibrium, so that it can never be lost in
any considerable degree at least.”
Mr Leibnitz accounted for the sinking of the mer- Hypothesis
cury before rain upon another principle, viz. That as of Mr
a body specifically lighter than a fluid, while it is su-Leibnitz,
spended by it, adds more weight to that fluid than
when, by being reduced in its bulk, it becomes spe¬
cifically heavier, and descends ; so the vapour, after
it is reduced into the form of clouds, and descends,
adds less weight to the air than before 5 and therefore
the mercury falls. To which it is answered, 1. That^efutei
when a body descends in a fluid, its motion in a very
little time becomes uniform, or nearly so, a farther
acceleration of it being prevented by the resistance of
the fluid j and then, by the third law of nature, it
forces the fluid downwards with a force equal to that
whereby it tends to be farther accelerated, that is,
with a force equal to its whole weight. 2. The mer¬
cury by its descent foretels rain a much longer time
before it comes, than the vapour after it is condensed
into clouds can be supposed to take up in falling.
3. Supposing that as many vapours as fall in rain du¬
ring a whole year wex-e at once to be condensed into
clouds, and even quite cease to gravitate upon the air,
its gi’avity would scai’cely be diminished thereby so much
as is equivalent to the descent of two inches of mercu¬
ry in the barometer. Besides, in many places be¬
tween the tropics, the rains fall at certain seasons in
very gi’eat quantities, and yet the bai’ometer shows
there vex-y little or no alteration in the weight of the
atmosphere. 21
Another hypothesis somewhat similar to that of Leib- Another
nitz has been given : but as it is liable to the objec-hypothesis,
tions just now mentioned, especially the last, we fox*-hut in¬
bear to give any particular account of it j and shallsufficient'
attempt, upon other principles, to give a satisfactory
solution of this phenomenon.
The necessary preliminaries to our hypothesis are,Anotfier
1. That vapour is formed by an intimate union between theory,
the element of fire and that of water, by which the
fire or heat is so totally enveloped, and its action so
entirely suspended by the watery particles, that it not
only loses its pi’operties of giving light and of burning,
but becomes incapable of affecting the most sensible
thermometer; in which case, it is said by Dr Black,
the author of this theory, to be in the latent state. For
the proofs of this, see the articles Evaporation,
Cold, Congelation, &c. 2. If the atmosphei’e is.
affected
BAH t 409 ] BAR
rdraeter. aueciea oy any unusual degree of heat, it thence be-
'comes incapable of supporting so long a column of
mercury as before, for which reason that in the baro¬
meter sinks. This appears from the observations of Sir
William Beeston already mentioned; and likewise from
those of De Luc, which shall be afterwards taken no¬
tice of.
These axioms being established, it thence follows,
that as vapour is formed by an union of fire with wa¬
ter, or if we please to call it an elective attraction be¬
tween them, or solution of the water in the fire, it is
impossible that the vapour can be condensed Until this
union, attraction, or solution, be at an end. The be¬
ginning of the condensation of the vapour then, ot the
first symptoms of an approaching rain, must be the se¬
paration of the fire which lies hid in the vapour. This
may be at first slow and partial, or it may be sudden
and violent: in the first case, the rain will come on
slowly, and after a considerable interval j and in the
other, it will be very quick, and in great quantity*
But Dr Black hath proved, that when fire quits its
latent state, however long it may have lain dormant
and insensible, it always assumes its proper qualities
again, and afi'ects the thermometer as though it had
never beeti absorbed. 1 he consequence of this must
be, that in proportion as the latent heat is discharged
from the vapour, it must sensibly affect those parts of
the atmosphere into which it is discharged; and in pro¬
portion to the heat communicated to these, they will
become specifically lighter, and the mercury sink of
course. Neither are we to imagine that the quantity
of heat discharged by the vapour is inconsiderable ;
foi Dr Black hath shown, that when any quantity of
water, a pound for instance, is condensed from the va¬
pour of a common still, as much heat is communicated
to the head and refrigeratory as would have been suffi¬
cient to heat the pound of water red hot, could it have
borne that degree of sensible heat.
The causes by which this separation between the fire
and water is, or may be effected, come to be consider¬
ed under the articles Rain, Condensation, Vapour,
&c. Here W6 have only to observe, that as the sepa-
lation may be gradual and slow, the barometer may
indicate rain for a considerable time before it happens i
or if the sensible heat communicated from the vapour
to the-atmosphere shall be absorbed by the colder
parts, or by any unknown means carried off, or pre¬
vented from affecting the specific gravity of the air,
the barometer will not be affected ; and yet the water
being deprived of the heat necessary to sustain it, must
descend in rain ; and thus it is found that the indica¬
tions of the barometer do not always hold true. Hence
also it appears, that though the specific gravity of the
air is diminished, unless that diminution proceeds from
a discharge of the latent heat contained in the vapours,
no rain will follow ; and thus the sinking of the baro¬
meter may prognosticate wind as well as Pain, or some¬
times nothing at all.
The difficulty, however, on this hypothesis, is to
account for the barometer being stationary in all wea¬
thers between the tropics ; whereas it ought to move
np and down there as well as here, only more sudden¬
ly, as the changes of weather there are more sudden
than here. But it must be considered, that in these
climates, during the daytime, the action of the sun’s
Vol. HI. Part H. +
rays is so violent, that what is gained by the discharge Barometer;
of latent heat from the vapour, is lost by the interposi- v—-■
tion of the clouds betwixt the sun and earth* or by the
great evaporation which is constantly going on ; and
in the night, the cold of the atmosphere is so much in -
creased, that it absorbs the heat as fast as the vapour
discharges it, so that no sensible effect can be produ¬
ced ; for in warm climates, though the day is exces¬
sively hot, the night is observed to be Vastly colder in
proportion than it is with us. This, however, does
not prevent the barometer from being affected by other
causes, as well as with us; for Dr Halley observes, that
in the time of hurricanes it sinks very low. The cause
of this is most probably a gPeat commotion in the elec¬
tric fluid, by which the air is internally agitated, and
its power of gravitation in part suspended.—A confir¬
mation of the above hypothesis, however, is taken from
the different heights at which the mercury arrives in
different climates. The barometer range, for instance,
at the latitude 0^45° is the greatest of all; because
here the evaporation and condensation of the vapours
are both very considerable, at the same time that the
latent heat discharged cannot be absorbed so suddenly
as in the torrid tone, the difference betwixt the length
of the days and nights being greater, and consequently
the nights warmer in summer and colder in winter.
Farther to the northward the range is less, and in the
latitude of 6o° only two inches, by reason of the great¬
er cold and length of the days and nights; whence the
quantity of vapour condensed, or of latent heat expel¬
led, becomes proportionably less.
- Having thus given an account of the several pheno- Differtnt
mena of the barometer considered as a weather-glass, kinds of ^
and likewise endeavoured to account for them in the barometerg
most satisfactory manner, we now proceed to o-ive a t*escr*betf-
particular description of the barometers most common¬
ly made use of, with various schemes for their improve¬
ment.
Fig. 1* represents the common barometer, such as pJ;Ue
was invented by Torricelli, and such as we have al- LXXXV.
ready given a general description of. AB represents
a tube of glass, a quarter of an inch in diameter, and
34 inches long, hermetically sealed at A. This tube
being supposed to be filled with mercury, is then in¬
verted into the bason CD ; upon which the mercurv
in the tube falls down to GH, somewhat above 28
inches, while that in the bason rises to CF. The low¬
est station of the mercury in this country is found to
be 28 inches, and the highest 31. From the surface
of the mercury CF, therefore, 28 inches are to be mea¬
sured on the tube AB, which suppose to reach to the
point K. This point, therefore, is the lowest of the
scale of variation, and in the common barometers is
marked stormy. In like manner, the highest point of
the scale of variation I, is placed 31 inches above EF;
and is marked very dry on one side for the summer,
and very hard frost on the other for the winter. The
next half inch below is marked set fair on tie one side,
and set frost on the other. At 30 inches from CF is
marked the word fair ou one side, and frost on the
other. Half an inch below that, is wrote the word
changeable, which answers both for summer and winter.
At 29 inches is rain on the one side, and snow on the
other; and at 28^ are the words much rain on the one
side, and much snow on the other. Each of these
3 ^ large
BAR [ 410 ] BAR
Barometer *arge divisions is usually subdivided into IO$ and there
v——/is a small sliding index fitted to the instrument, by
which the ascent or descent of the mercury to any
number of divisions is pointed out. Each of these tenths
is sometimes divided into ten more, or hundredths of an
inch, by means of a sliding slip of brass with a vernier
scale on it, which shall be hereafter described and ex¬
plained. This kind of barometer is the most common,
and perhaps the most useful and accurate, of any that
has yet been invented, from the following circum¬
stance. that the natural simplicity of its construction,
in preference to others hereafter described, does not
admit of any kind of resistance to the free motion of
the column of mercury in the tube. The scale of va¬
riation being only three inches, and it being naturally
wished to discover more minute variations than can
thus be perceived, several improvements have been
thought of.
The improvement most generally adopted is the dia¬
gonal barometer represented fig. 2. in which the scale
of variation, instead of three inches, may be made as
many feet, by bending the tube so as to make the up¬
per part of it the diagonal of a parallelogram, of which
the shortest side is the three-inches scale of variation of
the common barometer. This, however, has a very
great inconvenience: for not only is the friction of the
mercury upon the glass so much increased that the
height doth not vary with every slight change of air j
but the column of mercury is apt to break in the tube,
and part of it to be left behind, upon any considerable
descent.
Fig. 3. is the rectangular barometer ; where AC re¬
presents a pretty wide cylinder of glass, from which
proceeds the tube CDF bent into a right angle at D.
Suppose now the cylinder AC to be four times larger
than the tube CD, so that every inch of the cylinder
from C to A should be equal in capacity to four inches
of the tube CD. The whole being then filled with
mercury, and inverted, the mercury will subside from
A to 13, at the same time that it cannot run out at the
open orifice F, because the air presses in that way. If
any alteration then happens in the weight of the air,
suppose such as would be sufficient to raise the mer¬
cury an inch from B towards A, it is evident that
this could not be done without the mercury in the ho¬
rizontal leg retiring four inches from E towards D ;
and thus the scale of variation counted on the horizon¬
tal leg would be 12 inches. But the inconveniences
of friction are much greater here than in the diagonal
barometer; and besides, by the least accident, the mer¬
cury is apt to be driven out at the open orifice F.
The pendant barometer (fig. 4.) consists of a single
tube, suspended by a string fastened to the end A.
This tube is of a conical or tapering figure, the end
A being somewhat less than the end B. It is herme¬
tically sealed at A, and filled with mercury : then will
the mercury sink to its common station, and admit of
a length of altitude CD, equal to that in the common
barometers. But from the conical bore of the tube,
the mercury will descend as the air grows lighter, till
it reaches its lowest altitude, when the mercury will
stand from the lower part of the tube B to E, so that
BE will be equal to 28 inches : consequently the mer¬
cury will, in such a tube, move from A to E, or 32
inches, if the tube be five feet, or 60 inches j and
therefore the scale AE is here above te/i times greater Barometer
than in the common barometer : but the fault of this 1   j
barometer is, that the tubes being of a very small bore,
the friction will be considerable, and prevent its mov¬
ing freely ; and if the tube is made of a wider bore,
the mercury will be apt to fall out.
Fig. 5. is an invention of Mr Rowning, by which
the scale of variation may be increased to any length,
or even become infinite. ABC is a compound tube
hermetically sealed at A, and open at C, empty from
A to D, filled with mercury from thence to B, and
from thence to E with water. Let GBH be a hori¬
zontal line j then it is plain, from the nature of the
siphon, that all the compound fluid contained in the
part from H to G, will be always in (equilibria with
itself, be the weight of the air what it will, because
the pressure at FI and G must be equal. Whence it
is evident that the column of mercury DH is in ce-
quilibrio with the column of water GE, and a column
of air taken conjointly, and will therefore vary with
the sum of the variations of these. That the variation
in this barometer may be infinite, will appear from the
following computation. Let the proportion between
the bores of the tube AF and FC be such, that when
HD, the difl’erence of the legs wherein the mercury is
contained, is augmented one inch, GE, the difference
of the legs wherein the water is contained, shall be di¬
minished 14 j then, as much as the pressure'of the mer¬
cury is augmented, that of the water will be diminished,
and so the pressure of both taken together will remain
as it was •, and consequently, after it has begun to rise,
it will have the same tendency to rise on, without ever
coming to an equilibrium with the air.
Fig. 6. represents Dr Hook’s wheel-barometer. Here
ACDG is a glass tube, having a large round head at
A, and turned up at the lower end F. Upon the sur¬
face of the mercury in the bent leg is an iron ball G,
with a string going over a pulley CD. To the other
end of the string is fastened a smaller ball H, which as
the mercury rises in the leg FG, turns the index KL
from N towards M, on the graduated circle MNOPj
as it rises in the other leg, the index is carried the con¬
trary way by the descent of the heavier ball G along
with the mercury. The friction of this machine, how¬
ever, unless it is made with very great accuracy, ren¬
ders it useless.
Fig. 7. is another barometer, invented by Mr Rown¬
ing, in which also the scale may be infinite. ABCD is
a cylindrical vessel, filled with a fluid to the height W,
in which is immerged the barometer SP consisting of
the following parts: The principal one is the glass
tube TP (represented separately at t p'), whose upper
end T is hermetically sealed : this end does not appear
to the eye, being received into the lower end of a tin
pipe GH, which in its other end G receives a cylin-
dric rod or tube ST, and thus fixes it to the tube TP.
This rod ST may be taken off, in order to put in its
stead a larger or a lesser as occasion requires. S is a
star at the top of the rod ST: and serves as an index
by pointing to the graduated scale LA, which is fixed
to the cover of the vessel ABCD. MN is a large cy¬
lindrical tube made of tin (represented separately at
m ra}, which receives in its cavity the smaller part of the
tube 1 P, and is well cemented to it at both ends, that
none of the fluid may get in. The tube TP, with this
apparatus,
BAR
apparatus, being filled with mercury, and plunged into
the bason MP, which hangs by two or more wires upon
the lower end of the tube MN, must be so poised as to
float in the liquor contained in the vessel A BCD ; and
then the whole machine rises when the atmosphere be¬
comes lighter, and vice versa. Let it now be supposed,
that the fluid made use of is water 5 that the given
variation in the weight of the atmosphere is such, that,
by pressing upon the surface of the water at W, the
surface of the mercury at X may be raised an inch
higher (measuring from its surface at P) than before $
and that the breadth of the cavity of the tube at X,
and of the bason at P, are such, that by this ascent of
the mercury, there may be a cubic inch of it in the
cavity X more than before, and consequently in the
bason a cubic inch less. Now, upon this supposition,
there will be a cubic inch of water in the bason more
than there was before j because the water will succeed
the mercury, to fill up its place. Upon this account
the whole machine will be rendered heavier than before
by the weight of a cubic inch of water ; and therefore
will sink, according to the laws of hydrostatics, till
a cubic inch of that part of the rod WS, which was
above the surface of the water at W, comes under it.
Then, if we suppose this rod so small, that a cubic
inch of it shall be 14 inches in length, the whole ma¬
chine will sink 14 inches lower into the fluid than be¬
fore; and consequently the surface of the mercury in
the bason will be pressed, more than it was before, by
a column of water 14 inches high. But the pressure of
14 inches of water is equivalent to one of mercury ; this
additional pressure will make the mercury ascend at X
as much as the supposed variation in the weight of the
air did at first. This ascent will give room for a
second cubic inch of water to enter the bason ; the ma¬
chine will therefore be again rendered so much heavier,
and will subside 14 inches farther, and so on in infini¬
tum. If the rod was so small that more than fourteen
inches of it were required to make a cubic inch, the va¬
riation of this machine would be negative with respect
to the common barometer; and instead of coming nearer
to an equilibrium with the air by its ascent or descent,
it would continually recede farther from it: but if less
than 14 inches of rod were required to make a cubic
inch, tbe scale of variation would be finite, and might
be made in any proportion to the common one. Nei¬
ther this nor the other infinite barometer have ever been
tried, so that how far they would answer the purposes
of a barometer is as yet unknown.
Fig. 8. represents another contrivance for enlarging
the scale of the barometer to any size.—AB is the
tube of a common barometer open at B and sealed at
A, suspended at the end of the lever which moves on
the fulcrum E.—CD is a fixed glass tube, which serves
in place of the cistern. This last tube must be so
wide as to allow the tube AB to play up and down
within it AB being filled with mercury, is nearly
counterbalanced by the long end of the lever. When
the atmosphere becomes lighter, the mercury descends
in the long tube, and the surface of the mercury rising
in the cistern pushes up the tube AB, which at the
same time becoming lighter, the lever preponderates,
and points out the most minute variations. Here too
the friction occasions inconveniences; but this may be
[411 ]
BAR
in some measure remedied by a small shake of the ap- Barometer,
paratus at each inspection. v—
In the Philosophical Transactions, Mr Caswell gives
the following account of a barometer, which has been
commended as a very accurate one : “ Let ABCD
(fig. 9.) represent a bucket of water in which is the
barometer er e% 0 s m, which consists of a body e r s m%
and a tube cnyo: the body and tube are both concave
cylinders communicating with one another, and made
of tin : the bottom of the tube, z y, has a lead weight to
sink it so that the top of the body may just swim even
with the surface of the water by the addition of some
grain weights on the top. The water, when the instru¬
ment is forced with its mouth downwards, gets up into
the tube to the height yu. There is added on the top
a small concave cylinder, which I call the pipe, to di¬
stinguish it from the bottom small cylinder which I call
the tube. This pipe is to sustain the instrument from
sinking to the bottom : m d is a wire ; ms, de, are two
threads oblique to the surface of the water, which
threads perform the office of diagonals : for that while
the instrument sinks more or less by the attraction of
the gravity of the air, there, where the surface of the
water cuts the thread, is formed a small bubble ; which
bubble acsends up the thread, as the mercury in the
common barometer ascends.
The dimensions of this instrument given there are,
21 inches for the circumference of the body, the alti¬
tude 4, each base having a convexity of inches. The
inner circumference of the tube is 5.14 inches, and its
length 4^ ; so that the whole body and tube will con¬
tain almost 2-5- quarts. The circumference of the pipe,
that the machine may not go to the bottom on every
small alteration of the gravity of the air, is 2.14 inches ;
according to which dimensions, he calculates that it
will require 44 grains to sink the body to the bottom,
allowing it only four inches to descend ; at the same
time that it is evident, that the fewer grains that are
required to sink it to this depth, the more nice the
barometer will be. He also calculates, that when
the mercury in the common barometer, is 30^ inches
high, the body with a weight of 44 grains on its
top will be kept in (equilibria with the water; hut
when the mercury stands at 28 inches, only 19 grains
can be supported: and lastly, by computing the length
of the diagonal threads, &.c. he finds, that his instru¬
ment is 1200 times more exact than the common baro¬
meter. The following are his observations on the use
of it.
“ I. While the mercury of the common barometer is Mr Cas-
often known to be stationary 24 hours together, the well’s ot>-
bubble of the new barometer is rarely found to stand serTat‘?ns
still one minute. barometer
“ 2. Suppose the air’s gravity increasing, and ac¬
cordingly the bubble ascending ; during the time that
it ascends 20 inches, it will have many short descents
of the quantity of half an inch, one, two, three, or
more inches ; each of which being over, it will ascend
again. These retrocessions are frequent, and of all va¬
rieties in quantity and duration ; so that there is no
judging of the general course of the bubble by a single
inspection, though you see it moving, but by waiting a
little time.
“ 3. A small blast of wind will make the bubble
5 F a descend ;
BAR [ 412 ] BAR
Barometer, descend ; a blast tliat cannot be heard in a chamber
-v'-"-—' of the town will sensibly force the bubble downward.
The blasts of wind sensible abroad, cause many of the
above-mentioned retrocessions or accelerations in the
general course j as I found by carrying my barometer
to a place where the wind was perceptible.
“ 4. Clouds make the bubble descend. A small
cloud approaching the zenith, works more than a
great cloud near the horizon. In cloudy weather,
the bubble descending, a break of the clouds (or
clear place) approaching to the zenith, has made the
bubble to ascend; and after that break had passed
the zenith a considerable space, the bubble again de¬
scended.
“ 5. All clouds (except one) hitherto by me ob¬
served, have made the bubble to descend. But the
other day, the wind being north, and the course of
the bubble descending, I saw to the windward a large
thick cloud near the horizon, and the bubble still
descended : but as the cloud di'ew near the zenith, it
turned the way of the bubble, making it to ascend ;
and the bubble continued ascending till the cloud was
all passed, after which it resumed its' former descent.
It was a cloud that yielded a cold shower of small
hail.”
These are the most remarkable contrivances for the
improvement of the common barometer j the last, on
25 account ol its being so exceedingly sensible, and like-
Marine ba- wise easy of construction and portable, seems to de-
rometer by serve attention much more than the others, which are
Mi: Hook, always the more inaccurate, and the less easily moved,
according to the enlargement of their scale; whereas
this is seemingly subject to no such inconvenience. It
is evident, however, that none of these could be used
at sea, on account of the unsteady motion of the ship :
lor which reason Dr Hook thought of constructing a
barometer upon other principles.
This contrivance was no other than two thermome¬
ters. The one was the common spirit-of-wine thermo¬
meter, which is affected only by the warmth of the
air: the other, which acts by the expansion of a
bubble of air included, is affected not only by the ex¬
ternal warmth, but by the various weight of the atmo¬
sphere. Therefore, keeping the spirit thermometer as
a standard, the excess of the ascent or descent of the
27 othei above it would point out the increase or decrease
jFLccom- the specific gravity of the atmosphere. This in-
mended by strument is recommended by Dr Halley, who speaks
Br Halley, ol it as follows. “ It has been observed bv some,
that, in long keeping this instrument, the air includ¬
ed either finds means to escape, or deposits some
vapours mixed with it, or else from some other cause
becomes less elastic, whereby in process of time it
gives the height of the mercury somewhat greater than
it ought : but this, il it should happen in some of
them, hinders not the usefulness thereof, for that it
may at any time very easily be corrected by experi¬
ment $ and the rising and falling thereof are the things
chiefly remarkable in it, the just height being barely
a^curiosity.
“ I had one of these barometers with me in my late
southern voyage, and it never failed to prognosticate
and give early notice of all the bad weather we had,
jo that I depended thereon, and made provision ac¬
cordingly j and from my own experience I conclude,
3
that a more useful contrivance hath not for this long Baromete
time been ofl’ered for the benefit of navigation.” ^ e—
Fig. 10. represents a kind of Chamber Bai'ometcr, 2S
or a complete instrument for observing in a fixed place, ^lamber
such as a room, &c. the changes in the atmosphere.
It is constructed by Mr W. Jones, optician, London jliam Jonts
and consists of a barometer d, thermometer a c, and
hygrometer c, all in one mahogany frame. One advan¬
tage of this instrument is, that either the thermo¬
meter or hygrometer may be taken from the frame,
and occasionally made use of in another place if re¬
quired. The thermometer is separated by only un¬
screwing two screws cr, a ; and the hygrometer by un¬
screwing a brass pin at the back of the frame, not
seen in this figure. J he index ol the hygrometer is
at any time set, by only moving with your finger the
brass wheel seen at c; the two sliding indexes of the
barometer and thermometer are moved by a rack-work
motion, set in action by the key# placed in the holes
h and i. The divisions of the barometer plate b are in
tenths of an inch, from 28 to 31 inches ; these again
subdivided into hundredths by means of the vernier scale,
placed oppositely on a sliding slip of brass similar to
the common barometers, most of which are now made
with this vernier. On this vernier are ten equal parts, 2p
or divisions ; (see A, fig. 11. which for the sake of per-Method of
spicuity is drawn larger). All of these together are usillK die
equal just to 11 of those on the scale of inches j thatvern’er
to eleven tenths. By this artifice the height of the
mercury at E is evident by inspection only, to the one
hundredth part of an inch. To understand this, no¬
thing more is necessary than to consider, that one tenth
part of a tenth of an inch is the one hundredth part of
an inch. Now every tenth of an inch in the scale B
is divided into ten equal parts by the slip or vernier A:
for since ten divisions on that exceed ten on the scale
by one division, that is, by one tenth of an inch ; there¬
fore one division on the vernier will exceed one division
on the scale by one tenth part; and two divisions on
the vernier will exceed two on the scale by two
tenths, and so on : rl herefore every division on the
vernier will exceed the same number of divisions in
the scale by so many tenths of a tenth, or by so many
hundredth parts of an inch. Therefore the ten equal
divisions of an inch on the scale B, must be looked
upon as so many ten hundredth parts of an inch, and
numbered thus, 10, 20, 30, 40, &c. parts of an inch ;
then the vernier gives the unit to each ten, thus : Set
the index C very nicely to the top of the surface of
the mercury E 5 and if at the same time the beginning
of the divisions at C coincides with a line of division
in the scale B, then it shows the altitude of the mer¬
cury in inches and tenths of an inch exactly. Butsup-
pose the index line C of the vernier falls between two
divisions or tenths on the scale B, then there will be a
coincidence of lines on both at that number of the ver¬
nier, which shows how many tenth parts of that tenth
the index ol the vernier has passed the last decimal di¬
vision of the scale. Ihus, for example, suppose the in¬
dex of the vernier were to point somewhere between
the sixth and seventh tenth above 30 on the scale: then
if, by looking down the vernier, you observe the coin¬
cidence at number 8, it shows that the altitude of the
mercury is 30 inches and 68 parts of a hundredth of
another inch j or simply thus, 30.68 inches.
The
BAR
arometcr. The screw at fig. 10. serves to press the mercury
■—y—quite up into the tube, when required to be much mo¬
ved or carried about, thereby rendering the barometer
of the kind called portable. To the lower extremity
of the tube (see fig. 14.) is cemented a wooden reser¬
voir A, with a kind of leathern bag at bottom, the
whole containing the mercury, but not quite full: and
though the external air cannot get into the bag to
suspend the mercury in the tube, by pressing on its sur¬
face, as in the common one ; yet it has the same effect
by pressing on the outside of the bag 5 which being
flexible, yields to the pressure, and keeps the mercury
suspended in the tube to its proper height. Through
the under part of the frame passes the screw^ with a
flat round plate at its end ; by turning of this screw, the
bag may be so compressed as to force the mercury up to
the top of the tube, which keeps it steady, and hinders
the tube from breaking by the mercury dashing against
the top when carried about, which it is otherwise apt
30 to do.
irineba- A new kind of marine barometer has lately been
meter by invented by Mr Nairne. It differs from the common
; -Nairne-one in having the bore of the tube small for about two
feet in its lower part; but above that height it is en¬
larged to the common size. Through the small part
of the instrument the mercury is prevented from ascend¬
ing too hastily by the motion of the ship ; and the mo¬
tion of the mercury in the upper wide part is conse¬
quently lessened. Much is found to depend on the
proper suspension of this instrument j and Mr Nairne
has since found, by experiment, the point from which
it may be suspended so as not to be affected by the mo-
t tion of the ship.
bPasse- Another marine barometer has been invented by one
e ite. Passemente, a French artist. It is only a common one
having the middle of the tube twisted into a spiral con¬
sisting of two revolutions. By this contrivance, the im¬
pulses which the mercury receives from the motions of
the ship are destroyed by being transmitted in contrary
directions.
I ometer We must now speak of the barometer in its second
aided to character, namely, as an instrument for measuring ac-
‘ cessible altitudes. This method was first proposed by
a.ude«. M. Pascal ; and succeeding philosophers have been at
no small pains to ascertain the proportion between the
sinking of the mercury and the height to which it is
carried. For this purpose, however, a new improve¬
ment in the barometer became necessary, viz. the ma¬
king of it easily portable from one place to another with¬
out danger of its being broken by the motion of the
mercury in the tube ; which was effected by the con-
33 trivance already mentioned.
St icalba- Among the number of portable barometers we may
ter. perhaps reckon what Mr Boyle called his Statical Ba¬
rometer. It consisted of a glass bubble, about the size
of a large orange, and blown very thin, so as to weigh
only 70 grains. This being counterpoised by brass
weights in a pair of scales that would turn with the
20th part of a grain, was found to act as a barometer.
The reason of this was, that the surface of the bubble
was opposed to a vastly larger portion of air than that
of the brass weight, and consequently liable to be
affected by the various specific gravity of the atmo¬
sphere : thus, when the air became specifically light,
the bubble descended, and vice, versa, and thus, he
BAR
says, he could have perceived variations of the atmo-Barometer,
sphere no greater than would have been sufficient to * —- y—■ -J
raise or lower the mercury in the common barometer
an eighth part of an inch.
lo these we may add an account of a new and very jyjgifjoj 0f
singular barometer mentioned by M. Tazowski in his measnrinjr
tour through Switzerland. “A cure, shortsighted,tbechanges
who nevertheless amused himself with firing at a mark, ^ 'j*6 a*r
thought of stretching a wire in such a manner as tosJuln<jof
draw the mark to him, in order to see how he had a wire,
aimed. He observed, that the wire sometimes sound¬
ed as if it had been oscillatory ; and that this happen¬
ed when a change was about to ensue in the atmo¬
sphere j so that he came to predict with considerable
accuracy when there was to be rain or fine weather.
On making further experiments, it was observed, that
this wire was more exact, and its sounds more distinct,
when extended in the plane of the meridian than in
other positions. The sounds were more or less soft,
and more or less continued, according to the changes
of weather that were to follow ; though the matter
was not reduced to any accuracy, and probably is not
capable of much. Fine weather, however, was said to
be announced by the sounds of counter tenor, and rain
by those of bass. M. Volta was said to have mounted
15 chords at Pavia, in order to bring this method to
some perfection j but there are as yet no accounts of his
success.
The portable barometer, as already observed, has
long been in use for the mensuration of accessible alti-in measur-
tudes ; and, in small heights, was found to be more ex-begins
act than a trigonometrical calculation, the mercury de-,)y the ba”
scending at the rate of about one inch for 800 feet Of romctcr*
height to which it was carried : but, in great heights,
the most unaccountable differences were found between
the calculations of the most accurate observers ; so that
the same mountain would sometimes have been made
thousands of feet higher by one person than another;
nay, by the same person at different times. All these
anomalies M. de Luc of Geneva undertook to account
for, and to remove j and in this undertaking he per¬
sisted with incredible patience for 20 years. The result
of his labour is as follows.
The first cause of irregularity observed was a fault Removed
in the barometer itself. M. de Luc found, that twobyM.de
barometers, though perfectly alike in their appearance, Jaw
did not correspond in their action. This was owing
to air contained in the tube. The air was expelled by
boiling the mercury in them ; after which, the motions
of both became perfectly consonant. That the tubes Mercury,
may bear boiling, they must not be very thick, the how boiled
thickness of the glass not above half a line, and thein tube*,
diameter of the bore ought to be from two and a halfwi.tb t^ie
to three lines. The operation is performed in the fol-C CCtS*
lowing manner : A chaffing dish with burning coals is
placed on a table ; the tube hermetically sealed at one
end, is inverted, and filled with mercury within two
inches of the top j the tube is gradually brought near
the fire, moving it obliquely up and down, that the
whole length of it may be heated ; and advancing it
nearer and nearer, till it is actually in the flame, the
globules of air begin to move visibly towards the top.
The boiling at last commences ; and it is easy to make
it take place from one end to the other, by causing the
several parts of the tube successively pass with rapidity
through;,
[ 413 ]
BAR [ 414 ] ’ BAR
■Barometer,
.3?.
Variation
of the
height of
the mercu¬
ry by heat.
39
M. de
line’s port
abie baro¬
meter.
tbrough the flame. By this operation the mercury is
- freed from all aerial particles, particularly those which
line the inside of the tube, and which cannot easily be
got clear of by any other method. When this last stra¬
tum of air is discharged, the tube may be afterwards
emptied, and filled even with cold mercury, when it
will be found nearly as free of air as before. The mer¬
cury in the tube thus prepared by a determinate quan¬
tity of heat, will rise higher than those in the common
sort, and the barometers will more nearly correspond
with each other: whereas there will be a difference of
six or eight lines in the ascent of mercury in the com¬
mon barometers. Instruments of this kind rise uni¬
formly in a heated room, whilst those of the common
kind descend in dift'erent proportions. On cooling the
room, the former descend uniformly, while the latter
descend unequally, by reason of the unequal proportions
of air in them.
The next cause of variation was a difference of tem¬
perature. To discover the effects of heat on the mer¬
cury, several barometers were chosen that for a long
time had been perfectly consonant in their motions.
One of these was placed in an apartment by itself, to
mark the change in the external air, if any should hap¬
pen. The rest were situated in another apartment,
along with three thermometers, graduated according
to the scale of M. de Reaumur, and exactly corre¬
spondent with one another. The point at which the
mercury stood when the experiment began, was care¬
fully noted, and also the precise height of the thermo¬
meters. The latter apartment then was gradually
heated j and with so much uniformity, that the ther¬
mometers continued still to agree. When the heat had
been augmented as much as possible, the altitudes both
of the barometers and thermometers were again accu¬
rately marked, to ascertain the differences that cor¬
responded to one another. This experiment was re¬
peated several times with next to no variation ; and
from the barometer in the first apartment it appeared,
that no sensible alteration had taken place in the ex¬
ternal air. Hence M. de Luc found, that an increase
of heat sufficient to raise the thermometer from the
point of melting ice to that of boiling water, aug¬
ments the height of the mercury in the barometer pre¬
cisely six lines j and, therefore, dividing the distance
between these two points on the thermometer into 96
equal parts, there will be T^th of a line to add to, or
subtract from, the height of the mercury in the baro¬
meter, for every degree of variation of the thermometer
so graduated. A scale of this kind, continued above
boiling or below freezing water, accompanies his port¬
able baiometer and thermometer.—So accurate, he
says, did long practice make him in barometrical ob¬
servations, that he could distinguish a variation of T'? of
a line in the height of the mercury. He allows of no
inclination of the tube, or other means to augment the
scale, as all these methods diminish the accuracy of the
instrument. Two observations are always required to
measure the altitude of a mountain: one with a baro¬
meter left on the plain, and another on the summit;
and both must be accompanied with a thermometer.
His portable barometer consists of two tubes, one
•°f 34 trench inches in length $ and from the top, for
this length, perfectly straight j but below this, it is
bent round, so that the lower end turns up for a short
space parallel to the straight part. On this open end
is fixed a cock $ and on the upper side of this cock is
placed another tube, of the same diameter with the
former, eight inches in length, open at both ends, and
communicating with the long tube, through the cock.
When the barometer is carried from one place to an¬
other, it is inverted very slowly, to hinder any air get¬
ting in ; the quicksilver retires into the long tube on
which the key of the cock is turned ; and to preserve
the cock from too great pressure of the mercury, the
barometer is conveyed about in this inverted posture.
When an observation is to be made, the cock is first
opened ; the tube is then turned upright, very slowly,
to prevent, as much as possible, all the vibration of the
mercury, which disturbs the observation j and accord¬
ing to the weight of the atmosphere, the mercury falls
in the longer branch, and rises up through the cock,
into the shorter. *
The whole of the cock is made of ivory, except the
key. The extremities of the tubes are wrapped round
with the membrane employed by the gold-beaters, done
over with fish-glue, in order to fix them tight, the one
in the lower, and the other in the upper, end of the
perpendicular canal of the cock. The part of the key
that moves within the cock is of cork, and the outward
part or the handle is of ivory. The cock is fastened firm¬
ly to the ivory by means of a broad thin plate of steel,
which cuts both the ivory and^cork, lengthwise, through
the centre, and reaches inward to the hole of the key.
This plate also counteracts the flexibility of the cork,
and makes it obey the motion of the handle, notwith¬
standing it is very considerably compressed by the ivo¬
ry, to render it tight. That this compression may not
abridge the diameter of the hole of the key, it is lined
with a thin hollow ivory cylinder, of the same diameter
with the tubes.
On the upper end of the shorter tube is fixed, in the
intervals of observation, a kind of funnel, with a small
hole in it, which is shut with an ivory stopple. The
use of it is to keep the tube clean ; to replace the mer¬
cury that may have made its way through the cock in
consequence of any dilatation ; and likewise to replace
the mercury taken out of the shorter tube, after shut¬
ting the cock, on finishing an observation ; because,
when the mercury is left exposed to the air; it con¬
tracts a dark pellicle on its surface, that sullies both it¬
self and the tube. The shorter tube should be wiped
from time to time, by a little brush of sponge fixed on
the end of a wire.
-The barometer, thus constructed, is placed in a long
box of fir, the two ends of which are lined on the in¬
side with cushions of cotton covered with leather.
This box may be carried on a man’s back, like a qui¬
ver, either walking or riding j and should have a cover
of wax-cloth to defend it against rain. It should be
kept at some distance from the body of the man, and
he protected from the sun by an umbrella, when near
the place of observation, to prevent its being affected
by any undue degree of heat. The barometer should,
farther, be attended with a plummet, to determine
the perpendicular position of it $ and a tripod to sup¬
port,it firm in that position at the time of observa¬
tion.
The scale of the barometer begins on the long tube,
at a point on a level with the upper end of the short one;
and
Barometer.
BAR
[ 415 ] BAR
;,r0metpr< and rises, in the natural order of the numbers, to 2i
v inches. Below the above point, the scale is transferred
to the short tube : and descends on it, in the natural
order of the numbers, to 7 inches. The whole length
of the scale is 28 French inches: and since, as the
mercury falls in the one tube, it must rise in the other,
the total altitude will always be found by adding that
part of the scale, which the mercury occupies in the long
tube, to that part of it which the mercury does not
occupy in the short one. In estimating, however, the
total fall or rise on the long tube, every space must be
reckoned twice ; because, of barometers of this con¬
struction, half the real variation only appears in one of
the branches.
Near the middle of the greater tube is placed the
thermometer above mentioned, for ascertaining the cor¬
rections to be made on the altitude of the mercury in
consequence of any change in the temperature of the
air. It is placed about the middle of the barometer,
that it may partake as much as possible of its mean
heat. 1 he ball is nearly of the same diameter with
the tube of the barometer, that the dilatations or con¬
densations of the fluids they contain may more exactly
correspond. The scale is divided into 96 parts, be¬
tween the points of boiling water and melting ice} and
the term of o is placed one-eighth part of this interval
above the lower point} so that there are 12 degrees
belo'w, and 84 above it. The reason for placing o here
is, that as 27 French inches are about the mean height
of the barometer, so the 12th degree above freezing is
nearly the mean altitude of the thermometer. Hence,
by taking these two points, the one for the mean alti¬
tude, and the other for the mean heat, there will be
fewer corrections necessary to reduce all observations to
the same state, than if any higher or lower points had
been fixed upon.
If then the barometer remains at 27 inches, and the
thermometer at o, there are no corrections whatever to
be made. But if, while the barometer continues at 27
inches, the thermometer shall rise any number of de¬
grees above o, so many sixteenths of a line must be
subtracted from the 27 inches, to obtain the true height
of the barometer produced by the weight of the at¬
mosphere, and to reduce this observation to the state of
the common temperature. If, on the other hand, the
thermometer shall fall any number of degrees below o,
while the barometer still stands at 27 inches, so many
sixteenths must be added to that height, to obtain the
true altitude.
Nothing is more simple than these corrections, when
the barometer is at or near 27 inches of height. If,
however, it fall several inches below this point, as the
portable barometer very frequently must, the dilata¬
tions will no longer keep pace with the degrees of heat,
after the rate of y ^ of a line for every degree of the
thermometer} because the columns of mercury being
shortened, the quantity of fluid to be dilated will be di¬
minished. The truth is, the quantity of the dilata¬
tions for the same degree of heat is just as much dimi¬
nished as the column is shortened. If, then, it shall
still be found convenient to reckon the dilatations by
sixteenths of a line, these sixteenths must be counted on
a scale, of which the degrees shall be as much longer
than the degrees of the first scale, as the shortened co¬
lumn of mercury is less than 27 inches, the height to Barometer,
which the length of the degrees of the first scale was -y—
adapted. For instance, let the mercury descend to 134
inches, half the mean column, and let the thermome¬
ter ascend 10 degrees above the mean heat; 10 six¬
teenths should be deduced from the mean column, for
this temperature, according to the rule; hut 10 half¬
sixteenths only, or 5 whole sixteenths, must be subtract¬
ed from the column of 13^ inches, because the sum
of its dilatations will be half that of the former, the
quantities of fluid being to one another in that propor¬
tion.
It would cause considerable embarassment if the six¬
teenths of cori’ection were always to be subdivided into
less fractions, proportional to every half inch, of de¬
scent of the barometer; and the same end is obtained
in a very easy manner, by reckoning the corrections on
different scales of the same length, but of which the
degrees are longer according as the columns of the
barometer are shorter. For example, the degrees of
correction on the scale applicable to the column of
inches, will be double in length what the same
degrees are for the column of 27 inches; and of
course the number of corrections will be reduced like¬
wise one half, which we have seen by the ryle they
ought to be.
I he author constructed, on a piece of vellum, scales
with these properties, for no less than 23 columns of
mercury, being all those between 18 inches and 29 in¬
clusive, counting from half inch to half inch ; within
which extremes, every practical case will be compre¬
hended. He wrapped this vellum on a small hollow
cylinder, including a spring, like a spring-curtain, and
fixed it on the right side ol the thermometer. The vel¬
lum is made to pass from right to left, behind the
tube of the thermometer, and to graze along its sur¬
face. The observer, to find the corrections to be
made, pulls out the vellum till the scale corresponding
to the observed altitude of the barometer comes to
touch the thermometer, and on that scale he counts
them. The vellum is then let go, and the screw gently
furls it up.
The author having now, as he imagined, completely His opera-
finished the instruments necessary for the accurate men-tions on the
suration of heights, proceeded to establish, by expe-niounta*n
riment, the altitudes corresponding to the different Sale,'C3
scents of the mercury. Much had been written, and
many rules had been given, on this subject, by different
eminent philosophers, since the days of Pascal, who
first broached it : but these disagreed so much with one
another, and presented so little good reason why any
one of them should be preferred, that no conclusion
could with confidence be deduced from them. It be¬
came x-equisite, therefore, to lay them all aside, and to
endeavour to discover by practice what could not be as¬
certained by theoxy. Saleve, a mountain near Geneva,
was chosen for the scene of these operations. This
mountain is near 3000 French feet high. The height
of it was twice measured by levelling, and the result
of the mensurations differed only io£ inches ; though
there intervened six months between them, and the
total altitude was so considerable. On this mountain-
were chosen no less than 15 different stations, rising af¬
ter the rate of 20a feet, one above another, as nearly
as
BAR t 416 1 BAR
Barometer
4£
Strange a-
noaialies of
the baro¬
meter at
different
times of
the dav.
4*
Accounted
for.
as the ground would admit. At these stations, it was
proposed to make such a number of observations as might
he a good foundation either for establishing a new rule
of proportion between the height of places and the de¬
scents of the mercury, or for preferring some one of
those formerly discovered.
Little progress was made in this plan, when a phe¬
nomenon, altogether unexpected, presented itsdlf. The
barometer being observed, at one of the stations, twice
in one day, was found to stand higher in the latter ob¬
servation than in the former. This alteration gave little
surprise, because it was naturally imputed to a change
of the weight of the atmosphere, which would affect the
barometer on the plain in the same manner. But it
produced a degree df astonishment, when on examining
the state of the latter, it was found, instead of corre¬
sponding with the motions of the former, to have held an
opposite course, and to have fallen while the other rose.
This difference could not proceed from any inaccuracy
in the observations, which had been taken with all ima¬
ginable care ; and it was so considerable as to destroy
all hopes of success, should the cause not be detected
and compensated.
The experiment was repeated several times at in¬
tervals, that no material circumstance might escape no¬
tice. An observer on the mountain, and another oil
the plain, took their respective stations at the rising of
the sun, and continued to mark an observation, every
quarter of an hour, till it set. It was found, that the
lower barometer gradually descended for the first three
quarters of the day j after which it reascended, till iti
the evening it stood at nearly the same height as in th£
morning. While the higher barometer ascended for
the first three-fourths of the day ; and then descended,
so as to regain likewise, about sunset, the altitude of the
morning.
The following theory seems to account in a satis¬
factory manner for this phenomenon. When the sun
rises above the horizon of any place, his beams pene¬
trate the whole of the section of the atmosphere of
which that horizon is the base. They fall, however,
very obliquely on the greater part of it, communicate
little heat to it, and consequently produce little dila¬
tation of its air. As the sun advances, the rays be^
come more direct, and the heat and rarefaction of course
increase. But the greatest heat of the day is not felt
even when the rays are most direct, and the sun is in
the meridian. It increases while the place receives
moie lays than it loses, which itjivill do for a consider¬
able time after mid-day*, in like manner as the tide
attains not its highest altitude till the moon has ad¬
vanced a considerable way to the west of the meridian.
I he heat of the atmosphere is greatest at the surface of
the earth, and seems not to ascend to any great di¬
stance above it. The dilatations, for this reason, of
the air, produced by the sun, will be found chiefly if
not solely, near the earth. A motion must take place
in all directions, of the adjacent air, to allow the
heated air to expand itself. The heated columns ex¬
tending themselves vertically, will become longer, and
at the same time specifically lighter, [in consequence of
the rarefaction of their inferior parts. The motion of
air till it arises into wind, is not rapid: these leneth-
ened columns, therefore, will take some time to dissi¬
pate their summits among the adjacent less rarefied co-Bartimebr
lumns that are not so high ; at least, they will not do  
this as fast as their length is increased by the I'arefac-
tion of their bases.
The reader, we presume, anticipates the application
of this theory to the solution of the phenomenon in
question. The barometer on the plain begins to fall
a little after morning, because the column of air that
supports it becomes specifically lightef on account of the
rarefaction arisiiig from the heat of the sun. It con¬
tinues to fall for the first three quarters of the day $ be¬
cause, during that time, tile heat, and consequently the
rarefaction, are gradually increasing. It rises again af¬
ter this period j because the cold, and of course the con¬
densation, coming on, the specific gravity is augmented
by the rushing in of the adjacent air. The equilibrium
is restored, and the mercury returns to the altitude of
the morning.
rIhe barometer bn the eminence rises after morning,
and continues to do so for three-fourths of the day,
for two reasons. The density of the columns of air is
greatest near the earth, and decreases as the distance
from it increases! The higher, for this reason, we
ascend in the atmosphere, we meet with air specifical¬
ly lighter* But by the rarefaction of the base of the co¬
lumn that supports the mercury of the barometer on
the eminence, the denser parts of that column are raised
higher than naturally they would be if left to the ope¬
ration ot their own gravity. On this account, the
higher barometer is pressed with a weight, nearly as
great as it would sustain, were it brought down, in
the atmosphere, to the natural place of that denser air
now raised above it by the prolongation of the base of
the column. Ihe other reason is, that as the rarefac¬
tion does not take place at any great distance from thb
earth, little change is produced in the specific gravity
of the portion of the column that presses on the higher
barometer, and the summit of that column dissipates
itself more slowly than it increases. Thus, we see
how this barometer must ascend during the first three-
fourths of the day, and pursue a course the reverse
of that on the plain. The condensation returning af¬
ter this time, the denser air subdues, the 'equilibrium
takes place, and the mercury descends to its first po¬
sition. 43
T-his phenomenon prompted the idea of a second pair^en^ef ?n
of thermometers, to measure the mean heat of the
lumn of air intercepted between the barometers. These,neters ne-
thermometers are extremely delicate and sensible. Thecessary.
tubes are the finest capillary, the glass very thin, and
the diameters of the balls only three lines. The balls
are insulated, or detached from the scales, which are
fixed to the tubes only, by ligatures of fine brass-wire
covered with silk. The air, by this contrivance, has
free communication with the balls on all sides ; and, if
the direct rays of the sun be intercepted at some di¬
stance by a hit of paper, or even the leaf of a tree, the
thermometers will quickly mark the true temperature
of the air. ^
The reader, perhaps, will ask here, Could not this Method of
end have been gained by the first pair of thei,monie-comPu^n®
ters ? But we must x*equest him to suspend his judge-^
ment till we have explained the theory of computingtU
the altitudes from the descents of the mercury. He
will
BAH [ 41^ "|
roraeter. will then find the scales of these thermometers so dif- the fixed point.
’ ferent, that neither of them could, without much incon-
veniency, serve the purpose of the other.
The altitudes are computed by logarithms. A table
of logarithms contains two series of numbers, running
parallel to one another. The first has its terms in geo¬
metrical progression, and the second its terms in arith¬
metical. The natural numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. form
the first series } which, though in arithmetical progres¬
sion when standing detached, are in geometrical in
regard of the second series ; whose terms are in arith¬
metical progression, and are called loga?-ithtns, because
they express the distance of their correspondent terms
of the geometrical progression from the beginning of the
series.
To apply this table to the present purpose : let us
suppose the whole atmosphere divided into concentric
spherical sections, whose common centre is that of the
earth. Suppose also all these sections of equal thick¬
ness, namely, 12.497 toises, which is found to be the
thickness of the lowest section, and balances a line of
mercury, when the barometer stands at 348 lines or 26
inches. Add, then, all these sections together j and
we shall have the total altitude of the atmosphere ex¬
pressed in an arithmetical progression, whose common
difference is 12.497 ^°*se3. Consequently, in this view,
the heights are proportioned to the logarithms.
It remains only to find the descents of the mercury,
which measures the weights of the respective sections,
in geometrical proportion, in order to justify the ap¬
plication of the logarithmic table to the computation
of the altitudes. Now, it is easy to prove, in a very sa¬
tisfactory manner, that the mean densities of these sec¬
tions, which are in proportion of their weights, must
be in geometrical progression, when the altitudes are in
arithmetical 5 consequently, it is with great propriety
and convenience that the logarithms are employed in
the computation of the altitudes corresponding to the
descents of the mercury. For, to find the vertical di¬
stance between two barometers, at different heights, no
niore is necessary than to look, in a table of logarithms,
for the numbers that express in lines, or sixteenths of a
line, the altitudes of the two columns of mercury, and
take the logarithms of these numbers, whose difference
will give this distance accurately, in thousandth parts
of a toise. Multiply the toises by 6, which will furnish
the altitudes in French feet.
This author made about 500 different observations
at the several stations on the mountain of Saleve, which
both suggested and verified the computation by loga-
lilhms. Many, however, of these observations, pro¬
duced conclusions that deviated considerably from the
results of the actual mensuration,' on account of the dif¬
ferent temperatures in which they were taken. It was
the design of the second pair of thermometers to point
out the corrections of these deviations. In settling the
scales necessary for this end, the first object was, to
mark the temperature of all the observations where
the logarithms gave the altitudes exactly, or nearly
equal to what they wer* found to be by levelling. This
temperature corresponded to 16^ on the scale of Reau¬
mur, and to 70 on that of Fahrenheit, and at it was fixed
the term o. The next step was, to determine the cor¬
rections of the heights that became necessary, accord¬
ing as the state of the air was warmer or colder than
> OX,, in. Part II. 3
BAH
. - With this view, all the remaining ob- Barometer,
serrations were collected, and compared with the dif- v—~v——j
ferent temperatures in which they were taken ; and
from an attentive examination of these circumstances,
it was discovered, that for every 215 feet of height fur-
nijlied by the logarithms, one foot of correction must
be added or subtracted, for every degree of the ther¬
mometer, according as it stood above or below the
term o.
The scale of Reaumur did not conveniently express
this correction of 1 to 215. The author wished to adopt
the ratio of I to 1000, in forming a new scale for that
purpose ; but the divisions would have been too small.
-He employed, therefore, that of 1 to 500 : because,
by doubling the degrees of the higher thermometer
above or below o 5 or, which amounted nearly to the
same thing, by doubling the mean heat of the column
of air in taking the sum of the degrees of both thermo¬
meters, there resulted the ratio of 1 to 1000. The new
scale, then, was divided by the following proportion :
As 215, the last term of the ratio found by Reaumur’s
scale, is to 500, the last term of the ratio to be applied
on the new-scale: so is 80, the parts between the fixed
points of the first scale, to 186, the number of parts be¬
tween the same points on the second. And as 80 is to
186 ; so is i6|, the point on Reaumur’s scale at which
iae logarithms give the altitudes without correction, to
39, the point at which they give them on the new scale.
Hie term o is placed at this point, 39 at meltinir ice,
and 147 at that of boiling water. To reduce all obser¬
vations to the same temperature by this scale, nothing
more is necessary than to multiply the heights found
from the logarithms by the sum of the degrees of both
thermometers above or below O, and to divide the pro¬
duct by 1000. The quotient must be added to, or sub¬
tracted from, the logarithmic height, according as the
temperature is positive or negative.
As a specimen of the author’s method, we shall now Specimen
present our readers with the result of his operations at °f this me-
the 15 stations on Saleve. In one column are marked
the heights found by levelling, and opposite to them "•ensura*
the same heights found by the barometer j to the latter 01
are prefixed the number of observations of which thev
are the mean.
Stations. Heights by Numbers of
Levelling. Observations.
Feet. Inches.
1 2l6 2 12
2 428 10 13
3 586 o 13
4 728 8 21
3 9*7 o 24
6 1218 8 27
7 1420. o 23
8 1800 o 17
9 j965 3 J7
10 2211 o 17
11 2333 o 17
12 2582 4 16
13 2700 o 15
14 2742 o 10
15 2626 O II
Heights by
Barometer.
Feet.
23 o|
43 5A
59 Hr
732t
9r9H
1 221W
141
1 798tt
19624
2210
2331A
2583tb-
2703tV
274rf
292444
From this table we presume the reader will be in¬
clined to entertain the most favourable opinion of the
3 ^ abilities
BAR [418] BAR
Barometer, abilities and industry of M. de Luc. Notwithstanding
v ^ —n 1 the amazing pains, however, which be has taken to re-
46 move every inaccuracy in the barometer, it did not xe-
Description majn entirely free from error •, nor in many instances
improved*41 have the observations made by different persons exactly
barometer corresponded. Considerable improvements have been
yet invent- suggested by Colonel Roy and Sir George Shuck¬
ed. burgh, &c. (see Phil. Trans, vol. Ixvii. and Ixviii.) ;
and put in execution, with improvements, by Mr Rams-
den, and other ingenious instrument-makers in Lon¬
don. The following is a description of a very portable
one constructed by Mr William Jones of Holborn, which,
from its principle, comprehends every advantage that
M. de Luc’s instrument possesses; in many particulars
is exempted from the errors to which his is liable j and
is not subject to be deranged by carriage or other mo¬
tion.
Fig. 12. is a representation of the instrument as en¬
closed in its mahogany case by means of three metallic
rings b bb : This case is in the form of a hollow cone
divided into three arms or legs from a to c, and is so
carved in the inside as to contain steadily the body of
the barometer: The arms, when separated, form three
firm legs or supports for the barometer when making
observations (see fig. 13.) : The instrument is suspend¬
ed at the part g of the case, by a kind of improved gim¬
bals j and therefrom, with its own weight, is sufficient¬
ly steady in exposed weather. In that part of the frame
where the barometer tube is seen («<?), there is a long
slit or opening made, so that the altitude of the mer¬
cury may be seen against the light, and the vernier
piece a brodght down to coincide with the edge of the
mercury to the greatest possible exactness. When the
instrument is placed on its support, the screw /’is to be
let down in order that the mercury may subside to its
proper height j and also a peg at must be loosened, to
give admission to the action of the external air upon
the mercury contained in the box b. The adjustment
or mode of observing what is called the zero, or o,
division of the column of mercury, is by the mercury
being seen in the transparent part of the box b; the
inside of which is a glass tube or reservoir for the
mercury, and an edge piece of metal fixed on the ex¬
ternal part of the box. The mercury is to be brought
into contact with the edge by turning the screw J to¬
wards the right or left as necessary. The vernier
piece at a that determines the altitude of the column
of mercury, is to he brought down by the hand to a
near contact, and then accurately adjusted by turning
the screw h at top of the instrument. This barometer
has usually two different sorts of scales inserted on it:
that on the right atae, is a scale of French inches
from 19 to 31, measured from the surface or zei'o of
the mercury in the box 6 below, divided into 12th parts
or lines, and each line subdivided by the vernier into
ten parts, so that the height of the column of mercury
may be ascertained to the 120th part of a French inch.
The scale which is on the other side, or left of observa¬
tion, is of the same length ; but divided into English
' * inches, each of which is subdivided into 20ths of an
inch, and the vernier subdivides each 20th into 25 parts j
so that the height of the mercury is hereby ascertained
to the 5COth part of an English inch (viz. 20 X 25=
500). But this vernier is figured double for the con-
veniency of calculation, viz. the first five divisions are
marked 10, the 20 marked 40, and the 25 marked 50 j
then each exact division is reckoned as the two thou¬
sandth of an inch, which amounts to the same ; for
is the same in value as 3-^-0 °f an inch. A thermometer
is always attached to the barometer, and indeed is indi¬
spensably necessary: it is fastened to the body at c, coun¬
tersunk beneath the surface of the frame, which makes
it less liable to be broken: the degrees of the thermo¬
meter are marked on two scales, one on each side, viz.
that of Fahrenheit and Reaumur, scales generally
known; the freezing point of the former being at 32,
and the latter at o. On the right hand side of these
two scales there is a third, called a scale of correction ;
it is placed oppositely to that of Fahrenheit, with the
words add and subtract: it serves as a necessary correc¬
tion to the observed altitude of the mercury at any gi¬
ven temperature of the air shown by the thermometer.
There are several other valuable pieces of mechanism
about the instrument that cannot clearly be represented
in the figure ; but what has already been said, we pre¬
sume, is sufficient for the reader’s general information.
For the manner of making the necessary observations,
and calculating the nectary particular’s deducible
therefrom, a full information may be obtained from M.
de Luc, Recherches sur les Modifications de PAtmo¬
sphere, and the Philos. Trans, vol. Ixvii. and Ixviii. be-
Earometer
fore cited.
It may be necessary to add here, that by very small
additional contrivances to this instrument, Mr Jones
renders it equally useful for making observations at sea,
with any marine barometer that has hitherto been in¬
vented.
This article may not be improperly concluded by an
observation of Mr Magellan *, relative to a principal
cause of error in barometrical measurements. This he/arc's di¬
states to be owing to the inattention of observers to ihetionof
specific gravity of the mercury with which their baro-
meters were made. If two barometers were both at^ Notw
30 inches high, and equally circumstanced in every ou Mfr-
other respect, excepting only the specific gravity ofcrc^.
the quicksilver; s,o that one be filled with the first kind
I have tried, viz. whose specific gravity was =13.62
and the other =13.45. In this case, and in all proba¬
bility many of this kind have often occurred, the error
must have been no less than 327 feet; because the
heights of the mercurial columns in each barometer must
he in the inverse ratio of their specific gravities : viz.
13,45 : 136* v 3° : 3°»379*
Now the logarithm of 30=4771*21
ditto of 30,379=4825.73
the difference is = 54*52
which difference shows, that there are 54*52 fathoms
between one place and another, or 327 feet; though m
reality both places are on the same level.
“ But if the specific gravity of the mercury, in the
two barometers, were as the two above alluded to of
Bergman and Fourcroy; viz. one of 14,110, and the
other of 13,000, which may happen to be the case, as
the heaviest is commonly reputed the purest mercury ;
on this supposition the error must have amounted to
355,76 toises or above 2134 feet and a hall; because
13,000 : 14,110 : : 30 : 32,561, and the difference
between
PLATE EXXXV.
F> 'J ■ p ■
bar [ 4TQ ] BAR
romcter,between tlie logarithms of 30 and 32,561 is 355,76,
jsron. which converted into feet gives 2134,5.
A historical account of the invention and progres¬
sive improvement of the Barometer, and of its applica¬
tion to the mensuration of heights, will be found under
the articles Barometer and Barometrical Mea¬
surements in the Supplement.
BAUQN, a person who holds a barony. The origin
and primary import of this term are much contested.
Menage derives it from the Latin baro, which we
find used in the pure age of that language for vir, a stout
or valiant man; whence, according to this author, it
was, that those placed next the king in battles were
called barones, as being the bravest men in the army j
and as princes frequently rewarded the bravery and fi¬
delity of those about them with fees, the word came to
be used for any noble person who holds a fee imme¬
diately of the king. Isidore, and after him Camden,
take tl*8 word in its original sense, to signify a nierce-
nary soldier. Messieurs of the Port Royal derive it
from /Stfcgsf, weight or authority. Cicero uses the word
baro for a stupid brutal man ; and the old Germans
make mention of buffeting a baron, i. e. a villain; as
the Italians use the word barone to signify a beggar.
M. de Marca derives baron from the German bar, man,
ax freeman ; others derive it from the old Gaulish, Cel¬
tic, and tlebrew languages ; but the most probable
opinion is, that it comes from the Spanish vai'o, a stout,
noble person ; whence wives used to call their husbands,
and princes their tenants, barons. In the Salic law, as
well as the laws of the Lombards, the word baron sig¬
nifies a man in the general 5 and the old glossary of
Philomenes translates baron by aimj, man.
Baron is more particularly used among us, for a
lord or peer of the lowest class j or a degree of nobi¬
lity next below that of a viscount, and above that of
a knight or baronet. In ancient records the word
baron included all the nobility of England, because re¬
gularly all noblemen were barons, though they had also
a higher dignity. But it hath sometimes happened,
that, when an ancient baron hath been raised to a new
degree of peerage, in the course of a few generations
the two titles have descended differently ; one perhaps
to the male descendants, the other to the heirs general j
whereby the earldom or other superior title hath sub¬
sisted without a barony: and there are also modern in¬
stances where earls and viscounts have been created
without annexing a barony to their other honours : so
that now the rule doth not hold universally that all
peers are barons.
The original and antiquity of barons has occasioned
great inquiries among our English antiquarians. The
most probable opinion is supposed to be, that they were
the same with our present lords of manors \ to which
the name of court baron (which is the lord’s court, and
incident to every manor) gives some countenance. It
is said the original name of this dignity in England wras
vavassour, which by the Saxons was changed to thane,
and by the Normans into baron. It may be collected
from King John’s magna charta, that originally all lords
of manors, or barons, had seats in the great council or
parliament: but such is the deficiency of public records,
that the first precept to be found is of no higher date
than the 49th year of King Henry III.; which, al¬
though it was issued out in the king’s name, was nei¬
ther by his authority nor by his direction : for, not only Barom
the king himself, but his son Prince Edward, and most —■—v—-
of the nobility who stood loyal to him, were then pri¬
soners in the hands of the rebellious barons; having
been so made in the month of May preceding, at the
battle of Lewes, and so continued until the memorable
battle of Evesham, which happened in August the vear
following ; when, by the happy escape of Prince Ed¬
ward, he rescued the king and his adherents out of the
hands of Simon Mountfort earl of Leicester. It cannot
be doubted but that several parliaments were held by
King Henry III. and King Edward I.; yot no record
is to be found giving any account thereof (except the
Jth of King Edward I.), until the 22d year of the reign
of the last mentioned king.
Before the 49^^ °f Henry III. the ancient parlia¬
ments consisted of the archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls,
and barons. Of these barons there were two sorts :
the greater barons, or the king’s chief tenants, who.
held of him in capite by barony ; and the lesser barons,
who held of the first military service in capite. The
former had summons to parliament by several writs ;
and the latter (i. e. all those who were possessed of
thirteen knights fees and a quarter) had a general sum¬
mons from the sheriff in each county. Thus things
continued till the 49th of Henry III* But then, in¬
stead of keeping to the old form, the prevailing powers
thought fit to summon, not all, but only those of the
greater barons who were of their party ; and, instead
of the lesser barons who came with large retinues, to
send their precepts to the sheriff' of each county, to
cause two knights in every shire to be chosen, and one
or two burgesses for each borough, to represent the
body of the people residing in these counties and
boroughs ; which gave rise to the separation into two
houses of parliament. By degrees the title came to be
confined to the greater barons, or lords of parliament
only ; and there were no other barons among the peer¬
age but such as were summoned by writ, in respect of
the tenure of their lands or baronies, till Richard II.
first made it a mere title of honour, by conferring it on
divers persons by his letters patent. See further on
this subject the article Law.
When a baron is called up to the house of peers by
writ of summons, the writ is in the king’s name, and
he is directed to come to the parliament appointed to
be held at a certain time and place, and there to treat
and advise with his majesty, the prelates, and nobility,
about the weighty affairs of the nation. The ceremo¬
ny of the admission of a baron into the house of peers
is thus : He is brought into the house between two
barons, who conduct him up to the lord chancellor,
his patent or writ of summons being carried by a king
at arms, who presents it kneeling to the lord chan¬
cellor, who reads it, and then congratulates him on
his becoming a member of the house of peers, and in¬
vests him with his parliamentary robe. The patent is
then delivered to the clerk of the parliament, and the
oaths are administered to the new peer, who is then
conducted to his seat on the barons bench. Some ba¬
rons hold their seats by tenure. The first who was
raised to this dignity by patent was John de Beau¬
champ of Holt Castle, created baron of Kiddermin¬
ster in Worcestershire, to him and his heirs male, by
King Richard II. in the nth year of his reign. He
3 G 2 invested
BAR ' - [ 4
Buon. invested him with a mantle and cap. The coronation-
•—v—robes of a baron are the same as an earl’s, except that
he has only two rows of spots on each shoulder. In like
manner, his parliamentary robes have but two guards of
white fur, with rows of gold lace. In other respects
they are the same as other peers. King Charles II.
granted a coronet to the barons. It has six pearls, set
at equal distances on the chaplet. His cap is the same
as a viscount’s. His style is Right Honourable; and
he is styled by the king or queen, Right Trusty and
Well Reloved.
Barons by ancient tenure were those who held
certain territories of the king, who still reserved the
tenure in chief to himself. We also read of barons by
temporal tenure; who are such as hold honours, castles,
manors, as heads of their barony, that is, by grand sear-
geanty; by which tenure they were anciently sum¬
moned to parliament. But at present a baron by te¬
nure is no lord of parliament, till he be called thither
by writ.
The barons by tenure after the Conquest, were di¬
vided into majores and minores, and were summoned
accordingly to parliament; the majores or greater ba¬
rons, by immediate writ from the king j the minores,
or lesser barons, by general writ from the high sheriff,
at the king’s command.
Anciently they distinguished the greater barons from
the less, by attributing high, and even sovereign juris¬
diction, to the former, and only inferior jurisdiction
over smaller matters to the latter.
Barons of the Exchequer, the four judges to whom
the administration of justice is committed, in causes
between the king and his subjects relating to matters
concerning the revenue. They were formerly barons
of the realm, but of late are generally persons learned
in the laws. Their office is also to look into the ac¬
counts of the king, for which reason they have auditors
under them. See Exchequer.
Barons of the Cinque-ports are members of the
house of commons, elected by the five ports, two for
each port. See the article Cinque-ports.
Baron and Feme, in the English Law, a term used
for husband and wife, in relation to each other: and they
are deemed but one person ; so that a wife cannot be
witness for or against her husband, nor he for or against
his wife, except in cases of high treason.
Baron and Feme, in Heraldry, is when the coats of
arms of a man and his wife are born par pale in the
same escutcheon, the man’s being always on the dexter
side, and the woman’s on the sinister ; but here the
woman is supposed not an heiress, for then her coat
must be borne by the husband on an escutcheon of
pretence.
BARON, Robert, a dramatic author, who lived
during the reign of Charles I. and the protectorship of
Oliver Cromwell. He received the earlier parts of his
education at Cambridge, after which he became a
member of the honourable society of Gray’s Inn. Du¬
ring his residence at the university, he wrote a novel
called the Cyprian Academy, in which he introduced
the two first of the dramatic pieces mentioned below.
The third of them is a much more regular and perfect
play, and vvas probably written when the author had
attained a riper age. The names of them are, I. Deo-
rum Dona, a masque. 2. Gripus and Hegio, a pasto-
3
10 ] BAR
ral. 3. Mirza, a tragedy. Mr Baron had a great pann
intimacy with the celebrated Mr James Howell, the ||
great traveller, in whose collections of Letters * there Barone!
is one to this gentleman, who was at that time at Paris. ' W
To Mr Howell in particular, and to all the ladies and j ''
gentlewomen in England in general, he has dedicated 4
his romance.
BARONET, a dignity or degree of honour next be¬
neath a baron, and above a knight; having precedency
of all knights excepting those of the Garter, and being
the only knighthood that is hereditary.
The dignity of baronet is given by patent, and is
the lowest degree of honour that is hereditary. The
order vvas founded by King James I. at the suggestion
of Sir Robert Cotton, in 1611, when 200 baronets
were created at once5 to which number it was intended
they should always be restrained : but it is now enlar¬
ged at the king’s pleasure, without limitation.
They had several considerable privileges givtS them,
with an habendam to them and their heirs male. They
were allowed to charge their coat with the arms of
Ulster, which are, in a field argent, a sinister hand,
gules; and that upon condition of their defending* the
province of Ulster in Ireland against the rebels, who
then harassed it extremely : to which end they were
each to raise and keep up 30 soldiers at their own ex¬
pence for three years together, or to pay into the ex¬
chequer a sum sufficient to do it ; which, at 8d. per
day per head, was 1095I. So that, including fees,
the expence of this dignity may be about 1 200I. ster¬
ling. To be qualified for it, one must be a gentle¬
man born, and have a clear estate of locol. per an¬
num.
Baronets take place according to the dates of their
patents ; by the terms of which no honour is to be
erected between barons and baronets. The title Sir is
granted them by a peculiar clause in their patents,
though they be not dubbed knights: but both a baro¬
net, and his eldest son, being of full age, may claim
knighthood.—The first baronet who was created was
Sir Nicholas Bacon of Redgrave in Suffolk, whose
successor is therefore styled Frimus Baronetorum
Anglice.
Baronets of Scotland, called also Baronets of Nova
Scotia. The order of knights baronets was also de¬
signed to be established in Scotland in the year 1621,
by king James I. for the plantation and cultivation of
the province of Nova Scotia in America ; but it was
not actually instituted till the year 1625 by his son
Charles I. when the first person dignified with this title
was Sir Robert Gordon of Gordonstone, a younger son
of the earl of Sutherland. The king granted a cer¬
tain portion of land in Acadia or New Scotland, to
each ot them, which they were to hold of Sir William
Alexander (afterwards earl of Stirling), for their en¬
couragement who should hazard their lives for the good
and increase of that plantation, with precedency to
them, and their heirs-male for ever, before all knights
called equites aurati, and all lesser barons called laircW,
and all other gentlemen, except Sir William Alexan¬
der his majesty’s lieutenant in Nova Scotia, his heirs,
their wives and children ; that the title of Sir should
be prefixed to their Christian name, and Baronet added
to their surname; and that their own and their eldest
sons wives should enjoy the title of Lady, Madame, or
Dame,
BAR [ 4
BaroneU, Tillius, His majesty was so desirous of adding every
Baroni. mark of dignity to this his favourite order, that, four
'* years after its institution, he issued a royal warrant,
granting them the privilege of wearing an orange rib¬
bon and a medal 5 which last was presented to each of
them by the king himself, according to the words of
the warrant. All the privileges of the order, particu¬
larly this of wearing the medal, were confirmed at the
king’s request by the convention of estates in the year
16305 and in order to establish them on the most so¬
lid foundation, they were again confirmed by an act of
the parliament of Scotland in the year 1633. This
mark of distinction fell to the ground with all the
other honours of Scotland during the usurpation of the
long parliament and of Oliver Cromwell. It conti¬
nued in general, though not total, disuse after the Re¬
storation. There have been former meetings of the or¬
der to revive the use of it, one in the year 1721, and
another in 1734. These meetings proved ineffectual,
because the proper steps towards its revival were not
taken 5 but, under the auspices of our illustrious mo¬
narch George III. such measures were concerted in the
year 1775 as have effectually established this honour¬
able dignity.
Baronets oj Ireland. This order was likewise in¬
stituted by Iving James I. in the 18th year of his reign,
for the same purpose and with the same privileges with¬
in the kingdom of Ireland, as he had conferred on the
like order in England ; for which the Irish baronets
paid the same fees into the treasury of Ireland. The
first of that kingdom who was advanced to this here¬
ditary dignity was Sir Francis Blundell, then secretary
for the affairs of Ireland. Since his time several have
been created, no number being limited.
BARONI, Leonora, a celebrated singer and com¬
poser, was born at Naples, but spent the greatest part
of her life at Rome. She was daughter of Adriana
Baroni of Mantua, baroness of Pian-caretta 5 a lady
also distinguished for her musical talents, and for her
beauty surnamed the fair. Leonora had less beauty
than her mother 5 but excelled her in her profound
skill in music, the fineness of her voice, and the charm¬
ingness of her manner. She is said by Mr Bayle to
have been one of the finest singers in the world. She
was, as well as her mother, celebrated by the wits,
who strove to excel each other in recording her prai¬
ses ; and in 1639 th61'6 was published, at Bracciano, a
collection of Latin, Greek, Italian, Spanish, and
French poems addressed to her, under this title, dj)-
plai/si Poetici alle Glorie della Signora Leonora Baroni.
Among the Latin poems of Milton are no fewer than
three entitled Ad Leonoram Romce canentem, wherein
this lady is celebrated for her singing, with an allusion
to her mother’s exquisite performance on the lute. A
fine eulogium on this accomplished woman is contain¬
ed in a discourse on the music of the Italians, printed
with tiie life of Malherbe, and some other treatises at
Paris, 1672, in i2mo. This discourse was composed
by M. Maugars prior of St Peter de Mac, the king’s
interpreter of the English language, and besides so fa¬
mous a performer on the viol, that the king of Spain
and several other sovereign princes of Europe desired
to hear him. The character given by this person of
Leonora Baroni is as follows : She is endowed with
fine parts j she has a very good judgment to distinguish
it ] BAR
good from had music 5 she understands it perfectly well, parea;
and even composes 5 which makes her absolute mistress |]
of what she sings, and gives her the most exact pro- Barony,
nunciation and expression of the sense of her words.
She does not pretend to beauty, neither is she dis¬
agreeable or a coquet. She sings with a hold and ge¬
nerous modesty, and an agreeable gravity 5 her voice
reaches a large compass of notes, and is exact, loud,
and harmonious j she softens and raises it without
straining or making grimaces. Her raptures and sighs
are not lascivious 5 her looks having nothing impudent,
nor does she transgress a virgin modesty in her gestures*
In passing from one key to another, she shows some¬
times the divisions of the enharmonic and chromatic
kind with so much art and sweetness, that every body
is ravished with that fine and difficult method of sing¬
ing. She has no need of any person to assist her with
a theorbo or viol, one of which is necessary to make
her singing complete 5 for she plays perfectly well her¬
self on both these instruments. In short, I have had
the good fortune to hear her sing several times above
30 different airs, with second and third stanzas com¬
posed by herself. I must not forget to tell you, that
one day she did me the particular favour to sing with
her mother and he.r sister. Her mother played upon
the lute, her sister upon the harp, and herself upon
the theorbo. This concert, composed of three fine
voices, and of three different instruments, so powerful¬
ly transported my senses, and threw me into such rap¬
tures, that I forgot my mortality, and thought myself
already among the angels enjoying the felicity of the
blessed.”
BARONIUS, CiESAR, a pious and learned cardi¬
nal, was born at Sore in 1538. He studied at Rome,
and put himself under the discipline of St Philip de Ne-
ri. In 1593, he was made general of the congregation
of the Oratory by the resignation of the founder Philip
de Neri. Pope Clement VIII. made him his confessor,
and created him a cardinal in 1596. He was after¬
wards made librarian to the Vatican; and died in 1605,
at 68 years of age. He wrote several works, the prin¬
cipal of which is his Annales Ecclesiastici, from A. D. 1 „
to 1198, in 12 vols folio ; which has been abridged by
several persons, particularly by Henry Spondfeus,
Bzovius, and Ludovico Arelio.
BARONY, Baronia, or Baronagiutn, the lordship
or fee of a baron, either temporal or spiritual: In which
sense barony amounts to the same with what is other¬
wise called honour.
A barony may be considered as a lordship held by
some service in cbier of the king, coinciding with .what
is otherwise called grand serjeanty. Baronies, in their
first creation, moved from the king himself, the chief
lord of the whole realm, and could be bolden imme¬
diately of no other lord. For example, the king en¬
feoffed a man of a great seigneurie in land, to hold to
the person enfeoffed and his heirs, of the king and his
heirs, by baronial service ; to wit, by die service of
20, 40, 60 knights, or of such other number of
knights, either more or fewer, as the king by his en¬
feoffment limited or appointed.—In the ages next after
the Conquest, when a great lord was enfeoffed by the
king of a large seigneurie, such seigneurie was called a
barony, but more commonly an honour ; as, the honour
of Gloucestershire, the honour of Wallingford, the ho¬
nour s;
'BAR [42
nour of Lancaster, the honour of Tuchmond, ami the
like. There were in England certain honours, which
were often called by Norman or other foreign names ;
this is to say, sometimes by tbe English and sometimes
by the foreign name. This happened when tbe same
person was lord of an honour in Normandy, or some
other foreign country, and also of an honour in Eng¬
land. Eor example, William de Forz, de Force, or
de Fortibus, was lord of the honour of Albemarle in
Normandy: he was also lord of two honours in Eng¬
land ; to wit, the honour of Holderness, and the ho¬
nour of Skipton in Cravene. These honours in Eng¬
land were sometimes called by the Norman name, the
honour of Albemarle, or the honour of the earl of
Albemarle. In like manner, the earl of Britannic was
lord of the honour of Britannic in France, and also of
the honour of Richmond in England : the honour of
Richmond was sometimes called by the foreign name,
the honour of Britannie, or the honour of the earl of
Britannic. This serveth to explain the terms “ honour
of Albemarle in England,” honor Albemarlice, or comi-
tis Albemarlicc in Anglia ; honor Britannia’, or comitis
Britannice in Anglia, “ the honour of Britannie,” or
“ the earl of Britannie in England.” Not that Al¬
bemarle or Britannie were in England, but that the
same person respectively was lord of each of the said
honours abroad and of each of the said honours in
England. The baronies belonging to bishops are by
some called regalia, as being held solely on the king’s
liberality. These do not consist in one barony alone,
but in many : for tot erant baronice, quot majora prce-
dia.
A barony, according to Bracton, is a right indivi¬
sible. Wherefore, if an inheritance be to be divided
among coparceners, though some capital messuages may
be divided, yet if the capital messuage be the head of
a county or barony, it may not be parcelled : and the
reason is, lest by this division many of the rights of
counties and baronies by degrees come to nothing, to
the prejudice of the realm, which is said to be compo¬
sed of counties and baronies.
BARRA, or Barray, island of. See Barray.
Barra, in Commerce, a long measure used in Por¬
tugal and some parts of Spain, to measure woollen
cloths, linen cloths, and serges. There are three sorts :
the barra of Valencia, 13 of which make 12^ yards
English measure ; the barra of Castile, 7 of which make
64 yards $ and the barra of Arragon, 3 of which make
24 yards English.
BARRABA, Desert of ; a tract of land in Sibe¬
ria, lying between the rivers Irtis and Oby, in the pro¬
vince of Tobolsk. It is uninhabited, but not through
any deficiency of the soil j for that is excellent for
tillage, and part of it might also be laid out in mea¬
dows and pastures. It is interspersed with a great
number of lakes, which abound with a species of carp
called by the neighbouring people karawschen ; and
the country produces great numbers of elks, deer,
foxes, ermine, and squirrels. Between the Irtis and
Oby are some rich copper mines ; particularly on a
mountain called Pictowa, from the picta or white firs
that grow upon it. Every hundred weight of the ore
found here yields 12 pounds of pure copper j and there
is no occasion for digging deep in order to come at it.
Most of these ores, besides being very rich in copper,
a
2 ] BAP,
yield a great deal of silver, which affords so much gold
as makes rich returns for tbe trouble and expence of
extracting it.
BARRACAN, in Commerce, a sort of stuff, not dia¬
pered, something like camblet, but of a coarser grain.
It is used to make cloaks, surtouts, and such other gar¬
ments, to keep off the rain.—The cities where the most
barracans are made in France are Valenciennes, Lisle,
Abbeville, Amiens, and Roan. Those of Valenciennes
are the most valued ; they are all of wool, both the
warp and tbe woof.
BARRACIDA, a species of pike. See Esox, Ich¬
thyology Index.
BARRACK'S, or Baracks, places for soldiers to
lodge in, espcially in garrisons.—Barracks, when damp,
are greatly prejudicial to the health of tbe soldiers lodged
in them ; occasioning dysenteries, intermitting fevers,
coughs, rheumatic pains, &c. For which reason, quar¬
ter-masters ought to be careful in examining every bar¬
rack offered by the magistrates of a place j rejecting all
ground-floors in houses that have either been uninhabi¬
ted, or have anv signs of moisture.
BARRATOR, or Barretor, in Law, a person
guilty of barretry. See Barretry.
Lambert derives the word barretor from the Latin
balatro, “ a vile knave j” but the proper derivation is
from the French barrateur, i. e. “ a deceiver 5” and
this agrees with the description of a common barretor
in my Lord Coke’s report, viz. that he is a common
mover and maintainer of suits in disturbance of the
peace, and in taking and detaining the possession of
houses and lands or goods by false inventions, &c. And
therefore it was adjudged that the indictment against
him ought to be in these words, viz. That he is commu¬
nis malefactor, calumniator, el seminator litium et dis-
cordiarum inter vicinos suos, et pads regis perlurba-
tor, &c. And there it is said that a common barretor
is the most dangerous oppressor in the law, for he op-
presseth the innocent by colour of law, which was made
to protect them from oppression.
BARRATRY, in Law. See Barretry.
Barratry, in a shipmaster, is his cheating the
owners. If goods delivered on ship-board are em¬
bezzled, all the mariners ought to contribute to the sa¬
tisfaction of the party that lost his goods, by the mari¬
time law ; and the cause is to be tried in the admiral¬
ty. In a case where a ship was insured against the
barratry of the master, &c. and the jury found that the
ship was lost by the fraud and negligence of the mas¬
ter, the court agreed, that the fraud was barratry,
though not named in the covenant j but that negligence
was not.
BARRAUX, a fortress of Dauphiny, belonging to
France, now in the department of Isere. It stands in
tbe valley of Gresivaudan, and was built by a duke of
Savoy in 1597- The French took it in 1598, and
have kept it ever since. It is seated on the river
Isere, in E. Long. 5. 10. N. Lat. 45. o.
BARRAY, or Barra, one of the Western isles, in
the county of Inverness, Scotland j is eight miles in
length, and four in breadth. The soil in general is thin
and fit only for pasture, but in some places it produces
corn and potatoes. The population amounted to 1969
in 1811. The inhabitants are chiefly employed in
the cod and ling fishery, which is here very successful.
BAR
B array In the year 1787 they carried 30,000 ling to the Glas-
|| gow market. The fish is carried to market in the same
Barratry. lj0at in which it is taken, either by going round the
' ' mull of Cantire, or drawing the boat by horses across
the isthmus of Tarbet. There is a good harbour in the
north-east side. Some cattle are reared in the island,
and a little kelp is burned on the shore.
BARRE, Louis Francois Joseph de la, of
Tournay, author of several works printed at Paris.
Amongst others, Imper. Orientate, Recueil des Me dailies
des Empereurs, “ Memoirs for the history of France,”
&c. He died in 1738.
BARREL, in Commerce, a round vessel, extending
more in length than in breadth, made of wood, in
form of a little tun. It serves lor holding several sorts
of merchandise.
Barrel is also a measure of liquids. The English
barrel, wine measure, contains the eighth part of a tun,
the fourth part of a pipe, and one half of a hogshead ;
that is to say, it contains 31^ gallons : a barrel, beer-
measure, contains 36 gallons ; and ale measure 32 gal¬
lons. I he barrel of beer, vinegar, or liquor preparing
for vinegar, ought to contain 34 gallons, according to
the standard of the ale quart.
Barrel also denotes a certain weight of several mer¬
chandises, which differ according to the several commo¬
dities. A barrel of Essex butter weighs 106 pounds j
and of Suffolk butter, 256 pounds. The barrel of her¬
rings ought to contain 32 gallons wine-measure, which
amount to about 28 gallons old standard, containing
about IOOO herrings. The barrel of salmon must con¬
tain 42 gallons ; the barrel of eels the same. The bar¬
rel of soap must weigh 256 lb.
Barrel, in Mechanics, a term given by watch¬
makers to the cylinder about which the spring is
wrapped; and by gunsmiths to the cylindrical tube
of a gun, pistol, &c. through which the ball is dis¬
charged.
Barrel, in Anatomy, a pretty large cavity behind
the tympanum of the ear, about four or five lines deep,
and five or six wide.
Fire-BARRELs. See FiKE-Ship.
Thundering Barrels, in the military art, are filled
with bombs, grenades, and other fire-works to be rolled
down a breach.
BARRENNESS, the same with sterility. See Ste¬
rility.
BARRETRY, in Law, is the offence of frequently
exciting and stirring up suits and quarrels between his
majesty’s subjects, either at law or otherwise. The
punishment lor this offence, in a common person, is by
fine and imprisonment : but if the offender (as is too
frequently the case) belongs to the profession of the
law, a barretor who is thus able as well as willing to
do mischief ought also to be disabled from practising
for the future. And indeed it is enacted by statute
12 Geo. I. c. 29. that if any one, who hath been
convicted of forgery, perjury, subornation of per¬
jury, or common barretry, shall practise as an attor¬
ney, solicitor, or agent, in any suit; the court, upon
complaint, shall examine it in a summary way ; and, if
proved, shall direct the offender to be transported for
seven years. Hereunto also may be referred another
offence, of equal malignity and audaciousness ; that of
suing another in the name of a fictitious plaintiff, ei-
B A R
ther one not in being at all, or one who is ignorant of Barret
the suit, ihis offence, if committed in any of the jj
king’s superior courts, is left, as a high contempt, to Banin
be punished at their discretion : but in courts of a
lower degree, where the crime is equally pernicious,
but the authority of the judges not equally extensive, it
is directed by statute 8 Eliz. c. 2. to be punished by
six months imprisonment, and treble damages to the
party injured.
BARRICADE^ or Barricado, a military term for
a fence formed in haste with vessels, baskets of earth,
trees, pallisades, or the like, to preserve an army from
the shot or assault of the enemy.—The most usual ma¬
terials for barricades consist of pales or stakes, crossed
with batoons, and shod with iron at the feet, usually set
up in passages or breaches.
Barricade, in naval architecture, a strong wooden
rail, supported by stanchions, extending across the fore¬
most part of the quarter-deck. In a vessel of war the
vacant spaces between the stanchions are commonly
filled with rope-matts, cork, or pieces of old cable ; and
the upper part, which contains a double rope-netting
above the rail, is stuffed with full hammocks to inter¬
cept the motion, and to prevent the execution of small-
shot in the time of battle.
BARRIER, in jLoi'tijication, a kind of fence made
at a passage, retrenchment, &c. to stop up the entry
thereof. It is composed of great stakes, about four or
five feet high, placed at the distance of eight or ten feet
from one another, with transums, or overthwart rafters,
to stop either horse or foot, that would enter or rush
in with violence : in the middle is a moveable bar of
wood, that opens or shuts at pleasure. A barrier is com¬
monly set up in a void space, between the citadel and
the town, in half moons, &c.
Barriers, signifies that which the French call jeu
de baiA'es, i. e. palestra; a martial exercise of men arm¬
ed and fighting together with short swords, within cer¬
tain bars or rails which separated them from the spec¬
tators : it is now disused in this country.
BARRING a VEIN, in Farriery, an operation per¬
formed upon the veins of a horse’s legs, and other
parts of his body, with intent to stop the course, and
lessen the quantity, of the malignant humours that pre¬
vail there.
BARRINGTON, John Shute, Lord Viscount
Barrington, a nobleman distinguished for theological
learning, was the youngest son of Benjamin Shute,
merchant, and was born in 1678. He received part
of his education at the university of Utrecht; and, af¬
ter returning to England, studied law in the Inner
Temple. In 1701 he commenced write! in favour of
the civil rights of Protestant dissenters, to which body
he belonged. At the recommendation of Lord Som¬
mers he was employed to-engage the Presbyterians in
Scotland to favour the union of the two kingdoms ;
and in 1708, for this service, was appointed to the
place of commissioner of the customs. From this he
was removed by the Tory ministry of Queen Anne ;
but his fortune was, in the mean time, improved by
the bequest of two considerable estates j one of them
left him by Francis Barrington of Tofts, Esq. whose
name he assumed by act of parliament. Mr Barring¬
ton now stood at the head of the Dissenters. On the
accession of George I, be was^ returned member of
parliament
[ 423 ]
BAR [ 424 ] BAR
t0n. parliament for Berwick-upon-Tweed j and in 1720
the king raised him to the Irish Peerage, by the style
of Viscount Barrington of Ardglass. He was unfortu¬
nately engaged as sub-governor in one of the bubbles
of the time, the Harburgh lottery, and underwent the
disgrace of expulsion from the house of commons, in
1723 ; a censure which was thought greatly too severe,
and altogether unmerited on his part. In 1725 he pub¬
lished his principal work, entitled Miscellanea Sacra,
or a new method of considering so much of the History
of the Apostles as is contained in Scripture, in an ab¬
stract of their history, an abstract of that abstract, and
four critical essays 5 2 vols. Bvo. This work traces
the methods taken by the first preachers of the gospel
for propagating Christianity, and explains the several
gifts of the Spirit, by which they were enabled to dis¬
charge their office. It has always been reckoned a
valuable and judicious defence of the Christian cause $
and was reprinted with additions and corrections, in
3 vols. 8vo, 1770, by his son, afterwards bishop of
Durham. In the same year he published “ An Essay
on the several Dispensations of God to Mankind, in
the Order in which they lie in the Bible, Sic.” 8vo,
1725. He wrote various other tracts, chiefly on sub¬
jects relative to toleration*in matters of religion. He
died in 1734, in his 56th year, leaving several chil¬
dren, of whom five sons had the uncommon fortune
of rising to high stations in the church, the law, the
army, and the navy. Lord Barrington was a friend
and disciple of Locke, and adopted his sentiments as to
the right and advantage of free inquiry, and the va¬
lue of civil and religious liberty. He contributed
greatly to the rising spirit of liberal scriptural criti¬
cism among those who wished to render religion ra¬
tional. He was a man of great moderation, and,
though chiefly connected with the Dissenters, he occa¬
sionally frequented and communicated with the esta¬
blished church. Gen. Biog.
Barrington, Dairies, fourth son of Lord Vis¬
count Barrington, distinguished as an antiquarian and
naturalist, was educated lor the profession of the law,
and, after possessing various posts, was appointed a
Welsh judge in 1757* ant^ afterwards second justice of
Chester. He never rose to much eminence at the bar,
but he showed his knowledge of the law as an object
of liberal study, by a valuable publication entitled
“ Observations on the Statutes, chiefly the more an¬
cient, from Magna Charta to 21 James I. c. 27.: with
am Appendix, being a proposal for new-modelling the
Statutes,” qto, 1766. This work has been quoted
with great respect by many of our historians and con¬
stitutional antiquaries. In 1773 he published an edi-
tion ol Orosius, with Alfred’s Saxon version, and an
English translation and notes of his own, which met
with some severe animadversion from the critics. His
“ 1 facts on the Probability of reaching the North
Pole,” 1775, qto, were written in consequence of the
northern voyage of discovery undertaken by Captain
1 hipps (now Lord Mulgrave). He accumulates in
them a variety of evidence favourable to his own opi¬
nion of the practicability of attaining the object in
which that voyage failed j but there is little proba¬
bility that the attempt will he renewed. Mr Bar-
nngton’s other writings, which are numerous, are
Jnefly to be found in the publications of the Royal
and Antiquarian Societies, of both of which he wasBarnngtoi*
long an assiduous member, and of the latter, vice-pre- f|
sident. They relate to a variety of topics in natural ®ari'os-
history and antiquities, and show great industry and ^
extent of research, though with an occasional leaning
to singularity and paradox. Many of his tracts were
collected by him in a qto volume entitled, “ Miscel¬
lanies on various Subjects,” 1781. His “ Experiments
and Observations on the Singing of Birds,” and his
“ Essay on the Language of Birds,” are among the
most curious and ingenious of his papers. These,
and many others, prove that he was not only deeply
conversant in books, but was a very attentive and sa¬
gacious observer of nature. In private life he was a
man of worth and integrity, unambitious, and devoted
to study and literary conversation. He resigned his
office of justice of Chester in 1785, and afterwards
lived in retirement in his chambers in King’s-Bench-
Walks, Inner-Temple, associating chiefly with his bro¬
ther benchers, and amusing himself with superintend¬
ing the improvements of the gardens. He died March
14. 1800, and was buried in the Temple church.
BARRINGTONIA, See Botany Index.
BARRISTER, is a counsellor learned in the law,
admitted to plead at the bar, and there to take upon
him the protection and defence of clients. They are
termed jurisconsulti; and in other countries called /V-
ceritiati injure: and anciently barristers at law were
called apprentices of the law, in Latin apprenticiijuris
nobiliores. The time before they ought to be called
to the bar, by the ancient orders, was eight years,
now reduced to five j and the exercises done by them
(if they wei'e not called ex gratia) wei'e twelve grand
moots performed in the inns of Chancery in the time
of the grand readings, and 24 petty moots in the
term times, before the readers of the respective inns :
and a barrister newly called is to attend the six (or
four) next long vacations the exercise of the house, viz..
in Lent and Summer, and is thereupon for those three
(or two) years styled a vacation barrister. Also they
are called utter barristers, i. e. pleaders ouster the bar,
to distinguish them from benchers, or those that have
been readers, who are sometimes admitted to plead
within the bar, as the king, queen, or prince’s counsel
are.
BARRITUS is a word of German original, adopt¬
ed by the Romans to signify the general shout usually
given by the soldiers of their armies on their first en¬
counter, alter the classicum or alarm. This custom,
however, of setting up a general shout was not pecu¬
liar to the Romans, but prevailed among the Trojans
according to Homer, amongst the Germans, the Gauls,
Macedonians and Persians. See Classicum.
BARROS, John, a celebrated Portuguese histori¬
an, born at Visco in 1496. He was educated at the
court of King Emanuel, among the princes of the
blood, and made a great progress in Greek and Latin.
I he Infant John, to whom he attached himself, and
became preceptor, having succeeded the king his fa¬
ther in 1521, Barros obtained a place in this prince’s
household} and in 1522, was made governor of St
George del Mina, on the coast of Guinea. Three
years after, the king having recalled him to court,
made him treasurer of the Indies, and this post inspired
him with the thought of writing this history, for which
purpose
bar [425] BAR
San'os, purpose he retired to Porapas, v/here he died in 1570.
Barrow. His history of Asia and the Indies is divided into de-
cades j the first of which he published in 1552, the
second in 1553, and the third in 1563 ; but the
fourth decade was not published till the year 1615,
when it appeared by order of King Philip III. who
had the manuscript purchased of the heirs of John Bar-
ros. Several authors have continued it, so that we
have at present 12 decades. He left many other
works; some of which have been printed, and others
remain in manuscript.
BARROW, Isaac, an eminent mathematician and
divine, was the son of Mr Thomas Barrow a linen
draper in London, where he was born in 1630. He
was at first placed at the Charter-house school for two
or three years. There, however, his conduct gave but
little hopes of success in the profession of a scholar $
for he was extremely fond of fighting, and promoting
it among his schoolfellows : but being removed from
thence, his disposition took a happier turn 5 and ha¬
ving soon made great progress in learning, he was
admitted a pensioner of Peter-house in Cambridge.
He now applied himself with great diligence to the
study of all parts of literature, especially to that of
natural philosophy. He afterwards turned his thoughts
to the profession of physic, and made considerable
progress in anatomy, botany, and chemistry j after
this he studied chronology, astronomy, and geometry.
He then travelled into France and Italy, and in a
voyage from Leghorn to Smyrna, gave a proof of
his bravery 5 for the ship being attacked by an Al¬
gerine pirate, he remained upon deck, and with the
greatest intrepidity fought, till the pirate, perceiving
the stout resistance the ship made, sheered off and left
her (a).
At Smyrna he met with a most kind reception from
Mr Bretton the English consul, upon whose death he
afterwards wrote a Latin elegy. From thence he pro¬
ceeded to Constantinople, where he received the like
civilities from Sir Thomas Bendish the English ambas¬
sador, and Sir Thomas Dawes, with whom he after¬
wards preserved an intimate friendship. At Constan¬
tinople he read over the works of St Chrysostom, once
bishop of that see, whom he preferred to all the other
fathers. When he had been in Turkey somewhat
more than a year, he returned to Venice. From
thence he came home in 1659, through Germany and
Holland $ and was episcopally ordained by Bishop
Brownrig. In 1660, he was chosen to the Greek
professorship at Cambridge. When he entered upon
this province, he intended to have read upon the tra¬
gedies of Sophocles j but he altered his intention, and Barrow,
made choice of Aristotle’s rhetoric. These lectures ■ y—
having been lent to a friend who never returned them,
are irrecoverably lost. July the 16th 1662, he was
elected professor of geometry in Gresham college, by
the recommendation of Dr Wilkins, master of Trinity-
college, and afterwards bishop of Chester. Upon the
20th of May 1663 he was elected a fellow of the
Royal Society, in the first choice made by the council
after their charter. The same year the executors of
Mr Lucas having, according to his appointment,
founded a mathematical school at Cambridge, they fix-*
ed upon Mr Barrow for the first professor 5 and though
his two professorships were not inconsistent with each
other, he chose to resign that of Gresham college,
which he did May the 20th, 1664. 1° I66p he re¬
signed his mathematical chair to his learned friend
Mr Isaac Newton, being now determined to give up
the study of mathematics for that of divinity. Upon
quitting his professorship, he was only a fellow of
Trinity-college, till his uncle gave him a small sine¬
cure in Wales, and Dr Seth Ward bishop of Salis¬
bury conferred upon him a prebend in his church*
In the year 1670 he was created doctor in divinity by
mandate 5 and, upon the promotion of Dr Pearson
master of Trinity-college to the see of Chester, he was
appointed to succeed him by the king’s patent, bear¬
ing date the 13th of February 1672. When the king
advanced him to this dignity, he was pleased to say-,
“ he had given it to the best scholar in England.”
His majesty did not speak from report, but from his
own knowledge : the doctor being then his chaplain,
he used often to converse with him, and in his humor¬
ous way, to call him an “ unfair preacher,” because
he exhausted every subject, and left no room for others
to come after him. In 1675 he was chosen vice-chan¬
cellor of the university. The doctor’s works are very
numerous, and such as do honour to the English nation.
They are, 1. Euclid’s Elements. 2. Euclid’s Data.
3. Optical Lectures, read in the public school of Cam¬
bridge. 4. Thirteen Geometrical Lectures. 5. The
Works of Archimedes, the four Books of Apollonius’s
Conic Sections, and Theodosius’s Spherics explained
in a new Method. 6. A Lecture, in which Archi¬
medes’s Theorems of the Sphere and Cylinder are in¬
vestigated and briefly demonstrated. 7. Mathematical
Lectures, read in the public schools of the university of
Cambridge : the above were all printed in Latin : and
as to his English works, they are printed together in
four volumes folio.—“ The name of Dr Barrow (says
the reverend and learned Mr Granger) will ever be il¬
lustrious
(a) There is another anecdote told of him, which not only showed his intrepidity, but an uncommon good¬
ness of disposition, in circumstances where an ordinary share ol it would have been probably extinguished. He
was once in a gentleman’s house in the country, where the necessary was at the end of a long garden, and con¬
sequently at a great distance from the room where he lodged : as he was going to it before day, for he was a
very early riser, a fierce mastiff who used to be chained up all day, and let loose at night for the security of the
house, perceiving a strange person in the garden at that unseasonable time, set upon him with great fury. The
doctor catched him by the throat, threw him, and lay upon him ; and whilst he kept him down, considered what
he should do in that exigence : once he had a mind to kill him j but he altered this resolution, upon recollecting
that it would be unjust, since the dog did only his duty, and he himself was in the fault, for rambling out of his
room before it was light. At length he called out so loud, that be was heard by some of the house, who came
presently out, and freed the doctor and the dog from the danger they were both in.
Vol. III. Part II. f 5 j
BAR [ 426 ] BAR
Barrow, lustrious for a strength of mind and compass of know-
Brmows. ledge that did honour to his country. He was unri-
 v vailed in mathematical learning, and especially in the
sublime geometry ; in which he has been excelled only
by one man, and that man was his pupil, the great Sir
Isaac Newton. The same genius that seemed to be
born only to bring hidden truths to light, to rise to
the heights or descend to the depths of science, would
sometimes amuse itself in the flowery paths of poetry,
and he composed verses both in Greek and Latin.
He at length gave himself up entirely to divinity ; and
particularly to the most useful part of it, that which
has a tendency to make men wiser and better. He
has, in his excellent sermons on the Creed, solved every
difficulty and removed every obstacle that opposed itself
to our faith, and made divine revelation as clear as the
demonstrations in his own Euclid. In his sermons he
knew not how to leave off writing till he had exhausted
his subjectj and his admirable discourse on the duty
and Reward of Bounty to the Poor, took him up three
hours and a half in preaching. This excellent per¬
son, who was a bright example of Christian virtue, as
well as a prodigy of learning, died on the 4th of May
1677, in the 47th year of his age $ and was interred
in Westminster abbey, where a monument, adorned
with his bust, was soon after erected, by the contribu¬
tion of his friends.
BARROWS, in Ancient Topography, artificial hil¬
locks or mounts, met with in many parts of the world,
^intended as repositories for the dead, and formed ei¬
ther of stones heaped up, or of earth. For the former,
more generally known by the name of cairns, see
Cairns.—Of the latter Dr Plott takes notice of two
sorts in Oxfordshire : one placed on the military ways £
the other in the fields, meadows, or woods ; the first
sort doubtless of Roman erection, the other more pro¬
bably erected by the Britons or Danes. We have an
examination of the barrows in Cornwall by Dr Wil¬
liams, in the Phil. Trans. N* 458. from whose obser¬
vations we find that they are composed of foreign or
adventitious earth £ that is, such as does not rise on the
place, but is fetched from some distance.-—Monuments
of this kind are also very frequent in Scotland. On
digging into the barrows, urns have been found in
some of them, made of calcined earth, and containing
burnt bones and ashes } in others, stone chests contain¬
ing bones entire ; in others, bones neither lodged in
chests nor deposited in urns. These tumuli are round,
not greatly elevated, and generally at their bases sur¬
rounded with a fosse. They are of different sizes ; in
proportion, it is supposed, to the greatness, rank, and
power, of the deceased person. The links or sands of
Skail, in Sandwick, one of the Orkneys, abound in
round barrows. Some are formed of earth alone,
others of stone covered with earth. In the former was
found a coffin, made of six flat stones. They are too
short to receive a body at full length : the skeletons
found in them lie with the knees pressed to the breast,
and the legs doubled along the thighs. A bag, made
of rushes, has been found at the feet of some of these
skeletons, containing the bones, most probably, of an¬
other of the family. In one were to be seen multi¬
tudes of small beetles; and as similar insects have been
discovered in the bag which enclosed the sacred Ibis,
we may suppose that the Egyptians, and the nation to
2
whom these tumuli did belong, might have had the
same superstition respecting them. On some of the
corpses interred in this island, the mode of burning was
observed. The ashes, deposited in an urn which was
covered on the top with a flat stone, have been found in
the cell of one of the barrows. This coffin or cell was
placed on the ground, then covered with a heap of
stones, and that again cased with earth and sods. Both
barrow and contents evince them to be of a different
age from the former. These tumuli were in the nature
of family vaults : in them have been found two tiers of
coffins. It is probable, that on the death of any one of
the family, the tumulus was opened, and the body in¬
terred near its kindred bones.
Ancient Greece and Latium concurred in the same
practice with the natives of this island. Patroclus
among the Greeks, and Hector among the Trojans,
received but the same funeral honours with our Cale¬
donian heroes ; and the ashes of Dercennus the Lau-
rentine monarch had the same simple protection. The
urn and pall of the Trojan warrior might perhaps be
more superb than those of a British leader : the rising
monument of each had the common materials from our
mother earth.
The snowy bones his friends and brothers place,
With tears collected, in a golden vase.
The golden vase in purple palls they roll’d
Of softest texture and inwrought with gold.
Last o’er the urn the sacred earth they spread,
And rais’d a tomb, memorial of the dead.
Pope's Homer's Iliad, xxiv. 1003.
Or, as it is more strongly expressed by the same ele¬
gant translator, in the account of the funeral of Pa¬
troclus ;
High in the midst they heap the swelling bed
Of rising earth, memorial of the dead.
Ib. xxiii. 319.
The Grecian barrows, however, do not seem to have
been all equally simple. The barrow of Alyattes, fa¬
ther of Croesus king of Lydia, is described by Hero¬
dotus as a most superb monument, inferior only to the
works of the Egyptians and Babylonians. It was a
vast mound of earth heaped on a basement of large
stones by three classes of the people ; one of which
was composed of girls who were prostitutes. Alyat¬
tes died, after a long reign, in the year 562 before
the Christian era. Above a century intervened, but
the historian relates, that to his time five stones
termmi or stelce) on which letters were engraved, had
remained on the top, recording what each class had
performed ; and from the measurement it had appear¬
ed, that the greater portion was done by the girls.
Strabo likewise has mentioned it as a huge mound rai¬
sed on a lofty basement by the multitude of the city.
Ihe circumstance was six stadia or three quarters of a
mile; the height two plethra or two hundred feet;
and the width thirteen plethra. It was customary
among the Greeks to place on barrows either the
image of some animal, or stelce, commonly round pil¬
lars with inscriptions. The famous barrow of the A-
thenians in the plain of Marathon, described by Pau-
sanias, is an instance of the latter usage. An ancient
monument in Italy by the Appian-way, called without
reason
iarrows
fl fates on
BAR [ 427
reason the sepulchre of the Curiatii, has the same num- the
1 her of termini as remained on the harrow of Alyattes ;
the basement, which is square, supporting five round
pyramids.—Of the harrow of Alyattes the apparent
magnitude is described hy travellers as now much di¬
minished, and the bottom rendered wider and less di¬
stinct than before, by the gradual increase of the soil
below. It stands in the midst of others hy the lake
Gygaeus j where the hurying-place of the Lydian
princes was situated. The barrows are of various sizes j
the smaller made perhaps for children of the younger
branches of the royal family. Four or five are distin¬
guished by their superior magnitude, and are visible as
hills at a great distance. That of Alyattes is greatly
supereminent. The lake it is likely furnished the
soil. All of them are covered with green turf j and
all retain their conical form without any sinking in of
the top.
Barrows, or similar tumuli, are also found in great
numbers in America. These are of different sizes, ac¬
cording to Mr Jefferson’s* account: some of them
'ginia
f State of ° i X Jenerso11 s account 5 some c
'gTOff, ^ constructel1 earth, and some of loose stones. That
they were repositories of the dead has been obvious to
all j but on what particular occasion constructed, was
matter of doubt. Some have thought they covered the
bones of those who have fallen in battles fought on the
spot of interment. Some ascribed them to the custom
said to prevail among the Indians, of collecting at cer¬
tain periods the bones of all their dead, wheresoever
deposited at the time of death. Others again supposed
them the general sepulchre for towns, conjectured to
have been on or near these grounds j and this opinion
was supported by the quality of the lands in which they
are found (those constructed of earth being generally
in the softest and most fertile meadow grounds on river
sides), and by a tradition, said to be handed down from
the aboriginal Indians, that when they settled in a
town, the first person who died was placed erect, and
earth put about him, so as to cover and support him ;
that when another died, a narrow passage was dug to
the first, the second reclined against him, and the co¬
ver of earth replaced, and so on. “ There being one
of these barrows in my neighbourhood (says Mr Jeffer¬
son), I wished to satisfy myself whether any, and which
of these opinions were just. For this purpose I deter¬
mined to open and examine it thoroughly. It was si¬
tuated on the low grounds of the Rivanna, about two
miles above its principal fork, and opposite to some
hills, on which had been an Indian town. It was of a
spheroidical form, of about 40 feet diameter at the
base, and had been of about 12 feet altitude, though
now reduced by the plough to seven and a half, hav¬
ing been under cultivation about a dozen years. Be¬
fore this it was covered with trees of 12 inches diame¬
ter, and round the base was an excavation of five feet
depth and width, from whence the earth had been ta¬
ken of which the hillock was formed. I first dug su¬
perficially in several parts of it, and came to collec¬
tions of human bones, at different depths, from six
inches to three feet below the surface. These were ly¬
ing in the utmost confusion, some vertical, some ob¬
lique, some horizontal, and directed to every point of
the compass, entangled, and held together in clusters
by the earth. Bones of the most distant parts were
found together} as, for instance, the small bones of
]■ BAR
foot in the hollow of a skull: many skulls would Barrow*,
sometimes be in contact, lying on the face, on the side,l-—■—y—■
on the back, top or bottom, so as on the whole to give
the idea of bones emptied promiscuously from a bag or
basket, and covered over with earth, without any at¬
tention to their order. The bones of which the great¬
est numbers remained, were skulls, jaw-bones, teeth,
the bones of the arms, the thighs, legs, feet, and hands.
A few ribs remained, some vertebrae of the neck and
spine, without their processes, and one instance only of
the bone which serves as a base to the vertebral column.
The skulls were so tender, that they generally fell to
pieces on being touched. The other bones were
stronger. There were some teeth which were judged
to be smaller than those of an adult} a skull which,
on a slight view, appeared to be that of an infant, but
it fell to pieces on being taken out, so as to prevent
satisfactory examination } a rib, and a fragment of the
under-jaw of a person about half-grown } another rib
of an infant} and part of the jaw of a child, which
had not yet cut its teeth. This last furnishing the most
decisive proof of the burial of children here, I was par¬
ticular in my attention to it. It was part of the right
half of the under-jaw. The processes by which it was
articulated to the temporal bones were entire } and the
bone itself firm to where it had been broken off, which,
as nearly as I could judge, was about the place of the
eye tooth. Its upper edge, wherein would have been
the sockets of the teeth, were perfectly smooth. Mea¬
suring it with that of an adult, by placing their hinder
processes together, its broken end extended to the pen¬
ultimate grinder of the adult. This bone was white,
all the others of a sand colour. The bones of infants
being soft, they probably decay sooner, which might
be the cause so few were found here. I proceeded
then to make a perpendicular cut through the body of
the barrow, that I might examine its internal struc¬
ture. This passed about three feet from its centre, was
opened to the former surface of the earth, and was
wide enough for a man to walk through and examine
its sides. At the bottom, that is, on the level of the
circumjacent plain, I found bones } above these a few
stones, brought from a cliff a quarter of a mile off, and
from the river one-eighth of a mile off} then a large
interval of earth, then a stratum of bones, and so on.
At one end of the section were four strata of bones
plainly distinguishable } at the other, three} the strata
in one part not ranging with those in another. The
bones nearest the surface were least decayed. No holes
were discovered in any of them, as if made with bul¬
lets, arrows, or other weapons. I conjectured that in
this barrow might have been a thousand skeletons.
Every one will readily seize the circumstances above
related, which militate against the opinion that it co¬
vered the bones only of persons fallen in battle} and
against the tradition also which would make it the com¬
mon sepulchre of a town, in which the bodies were
placed upright, and touching each other. Appear¬
ances certainly indicate that it has derived both ori¬
gin and growth from the accustomary collection of
bones, and deposition of them together} that the first
collection had been deposited on the common sur¬
face of the earth, a few stones put over it, and then a
covering of earth} that the second had been laid on
this, had covered more or less of it in proportion to
3 H a the
BAR
[ 428 ]
BAR
Biitrowi.
Barry.
the number of bones, and was then also covered with
earth, and so on. The following are the particular
circumstances which give it this aspect. 1. The num-
’ her of bones. 2. Their confused position. 3. Their
being in different strata. 4. The strata in one part
having no correspondence with those in another. 5.
The different states of decay in these strata, which seem
to indicate a difference in the time of inhumation. 6.
The existence of infant bones among them. But on
whatever occasion they may have been made, they are
of considerable notoriety among the Indians ; for a
party passing, about thirty years ago, through the part
of the country where this barrow is, went through the
woods directly to it, without any instructions or en¬
quiry j and having staid about it for some time, with
expressions which were construed to be those of sorrow,
they returned to the high road, which they had left
about half a dozen miles to pay this visit, and pursued
their journey. There is another barrow, much resem¬
bling this in the low grounds of the south branch of
the Shenandoah, where it is crossed by the road lead¬
ing from the Rock-fish gap to Staunton. Both of these
have, within these dozen years, been cleared of their
trees and put under cultivation, are much reduced in
their height, and spread in width, by the plough, and
will probably disappear in time. There is another on
a hill in the Blue ridge of mountains, a few miles north
of Wood’s gap, which is made up of small stones thrown
together. This has been opened and found to contain
human bones as the others do. There are also many
others in other parts of the country.”
Barrows, in the salt-works, are wicker cases, al¬
most in the shape of a sugar-loaf, wherein the salt is
put to drain.
BARRULET, in Heraldry, the fourth part of the
bar, or the one half of the closset} an usual bearing in
coat-armour.
BARRULY, in Heraldry, is when the field is di¬
vided bar-ways, that is, across from side to side, into
several parts.
BARRY, Girald, commonly called Giraldus Cam-
brcnsis, i. e. Girald of Wales, a historian and eccle¬
siastic in the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I. was
born at the castle of Mainarper, near Pembroke, A. D.
1146. By his mother he was descended from the
princes of South Wales $ and his father, William Barry,
was one of the chief men of that principality. Being
a younger brother, and intended for the church, he
vvas sent to St David’s, and educated in the family of
his uncle, who was bishop of that see. He acknow¬
ledges, in his history of his own life and actions, that in
his early youth he was too playful j but being severely
reproached for it by his preceptors, he became a very
hard student, and greatly excelled all his school-fellows
in learning. When he was about 20 years of age, he
was sent, A. D. 1166, for his further improvement, to
the university of Paris ; where he continued for three
years, and became, according to his own account, a
most excellent rhetorician $ which rendered him very
famous. On his return into Britain, he entered into
holy orders, and obtained several benefices both in
England and Wales. Observing, with much concern,
that his countrymen, the Welch, were very backward
in paying the tithes of wool and cheese, which he was
afraid would involve them in eternal damnation, he
3
applied to Richard archbishop of Canterbury, and was
appointed his legate in Wales for rectifying that dis-'
order, and for other purposes. He executed this com¬
mission with great spirit; excommunicating all, with¬
out distinction, who refused to save their souls by sur¬
rendering tbe tithes of their cheese and wool. Not
satisfied with enriching, he also attempted to reform,
the clergy j and dilated the archdeacon of Brecon to
the archbishopric, for the unpardonable crime of matri¬
mony ; and the poor old man, refusing to put away his
wife, was deprived of his archdeaconry; which was be¬
stowed upon our zealous legate. In discharging the
duties of this new office, he acted with great vigour,
which involved him in many quarrels ; but, if we may
believe himself, he was always in the right, and always
victorious. His uncle, the bishop of St David’s, dying
A. D. 1176, he was elected his successor by the chap¬
ter : but this election having been made without the
permission, and contrary to the inclination of Henry II.
our author prudently declined to insist upon it, and
went again to Paris to prosecute his studies, particular¬
ly in the civil and canon law, and theology. He speaks
with great raptures of the prodigious fame he acquired
by his eloquent declamations in the schools, and of the
crowded audiences who attended them, who were at a
loss to know whether the sweetness of his voice, the
beauty of his language, or the irresistible force of his
arguments, were most to be admired. Having spent
about four years at Paris, he returned to St David’s ;
where he found every thing in confusion j and the bi¬
shop being expelled by the people, he was appointed
administrator by the archbishop of Canterbury, and go¬
verned tbe diocese in that capacity to A. D. 1184,
when the bishop was restored. About the same time he
was called to court by Henry II. appointed one of his
chaplains, and sent into Ireland A. D. 1185, with Prince
John. By this prince he was offered the united bi¬
shoprics of Femes and Leighlin, but declined them,
and employed his time in collecting materials for his
Topography of Ireland, and his History of the conquest
of that island. Having finished his Topography, which
consisted of three books, he published it at Oxford,
A. D. 1187, in the following manner, in three days.
On the first day he read the first book to a great con¬
course of people, and afterwards entertained all the
poor of the town ; on the second day he read the se¬
cond book, and entertained all the doctors and chief
scholars; and, on the third day, he read the third book,
and entertained the young scholars, soldiers, and bur¬
gesses. “ A most glorious spectacle ! (says he) which
revived the ancient times of the poets, and of which
no example had been seen in England.” He attend¬
ed Baldwin archbishop of Canterbury, in his progress
through Wales, A. D. 1186, in preaching a croisade
for the recovery of the Holy Land ; in which, he tells
us, he was far more successful than the primate ; and
pax-ticularly, that the people were prodigiously affected
with his Latin sermons, which they did not understand,
melting into tears, and coming in crowds to take the
cross. Although Henry II. as our author assures us,
entertained the highest opinion of his virtues and abili¬
ties ; yet he would never advance him to any higher
dignity in the church, on account of his relation to the
princes and great men of Wales. But on the accession
of Richard I. (A. D. 1189), his projects of preferment
became'
Batry.
BAH [ 429 ] BAR
Barry became better : for be was sent by that prince into
li Wales to preserve the peace of that country, and was
_arsJt *' , even joined in commission with William Longchamp,
bishop of Ely, as one of the regents of the kingdom.
He did not, however, improve this favourable opportu¬
nity : refusing the bishopric of Bangor in A. D. 1190,
and that of Landaff the year after, having fixed his
heart on the see of St David’s, the bishop of which was
very old and infirm. In A. D. 1192, the state of pub¬
lic affairs, and the cburse of interest at court, became so
unfavourable to our author’s views, that he determined
to retire. At first he resolved to return to Paris to
prosecute his studies ; but meeting with some difficulties
in this, he went to Lincoln, where William de Monte
read lectures in theology with great applause. Here he
spent about six years in the study of divinity, and in
composing several works. The see of St David’s, which
had long been the great object of his ambition, became
vacant, A. D. 1198, and brought him again upon the
stage. He was unanimously elected by the chapter;
but met with so powerful an adversary in Hubert arch¬
bishop of Canterbury (who opposed his promotion with
great violence), that it involved him in a litigation
which lasted five years, cost him three journeys to
Rome, at a great expence, and in which he was at last
defeated, A. D. 1203. Soon after this he retired from
the world, and spent the last 17 years of his life in a
studious privacy, composing many books, of which we
have a very correct catalogue in the Biographia Britan-
nica. That Girald of Wales was a man of uncommon
activity, genius, and learning, is undeniable ; but these
and his other good qualities were much tarnished by his
insufferable vanity.
Barry, James, an eminent British painter. See
Supplement.
Barry, in Heraldry, is when an escutcheon is di¬
vided bar-ways, that is, across from side to side, into
an even number of partitions, consisting of two or more
tinctures, interchangeably disposed ; it is to be expres¬
sed in the blazon by the word harry, and the number
of pieces must be specified ; but if the divisions be odd,
the field must be first named, and the number of bars
expressed.
BARRY-Bendyis when an escutcheon is divided even¬
ly, bar and bend-ways, by lines drawn transverse and di¬
agonal, interchangeably varying the tinctures of which
it consists.
BARRY-Pily is when a coat is divided by several lines
drawn obliquely from side to side, where they form acute
angles.
BARS A, in Ancient Geography, an island on the
coast of France, in the English channel, (Itinerary) :
Basepool according to some ; but according to others,
Bardsey.
BARSALLI, a kingdom of Africa, bordering on
the river Gambia, inhabited by a tribe of negroes cal¬
led Jaloffs. The government of this kingdom is a
most despotic monarchy: all people being obliged to
prostrate themselves on the earth when any of the royal
family makes his appearance. In time of war, every
soldier has his share of the booty, and the king but a
certain proportion, which is moderate, considering that
if he pleased he might keep the whole. The kingdom
is divided into a number of provinces, over which go¬
vernors called bumeys are appointed by the king. These
bumeys are absolute within their jurisdiction ; but they Barsalli
seldom carry their prerogative so far as- to incur the Barsanti’.
dislike ol the people, which would quickly prove fatal—v——■
to them. The Mahometan religion is professed by the
king and his court ; though little regard is paid to that
part of the impostor’s creed which forbids the use of
wine ; lor the king cannot live without brandy, nor is
he ever more devout than when he is drunk. When his
majesty is in want of brandy or other necessaries, h&
sends to beg of the governor of James-fort that he will
despatch a boat with the merchandise he has occasion
for ; and to purchase this he plunders the neighbouring
towns, and seizes a certain number of his subjects, whom
he sells for slaves to the Europeans in exchange for their
commodities. This is his method of supplying himself
if he happens to be at peace with his neighbours; for
which reason the people are never so happy as when at
war; and hence they pursue war with great vigour,
and continue it with obstinacy.——The general dress of
the people is a kind of loose calico surplice, that hangs
down below the knee; which they sometimes plait
about the waist in a very agreeable manner. They
wear a great number of gold trinkets in their hair,
ears, noses, and round their necks, arms, and legs ;
but the women especially are fond of these ornaments.
The king of Barsalli, whom Moor saw in 1732, had a
prodigious number of women : but when he went
abroad he was seldom attended by more than two, who
seemed to be dressed out in the whole finery and jewels
ol the seraglio. He had likewise a number of breth¬
ren ; but it was seldom that he deigned to speak to
them : if ever he did them that honour, they were for¬
ced to treat him with the same respect as other subjects,
and fall prostrate on the earth the moment they came
into his presence, notwithstanding they were the pre¬
sumptive heirs of the crown. It is indeed usual for the
king’s children to dispute the right of succession with
his brethren, and the longest sword generally carries
away the prize.
BARSANTI, F RANCisco, an eminent musical per¬
former and composer, was born at Lucca about the
year 1690. He studied the civil law in the university
of Padua; but, after a short stay there, chose music
for his profession. Accordingly, he put himself under
the tuition of some of the ablest masters in Italy; and
having attained to a considerable degree of proficiency
in the science of practical composition, took a resolu¬
tion to settle in England, and came thither with Ge-
miniani, who was also a Luccese, in the year 1714.
He was a good performer on the hautboy, and also
on the flute ; in the former capacity he found employe-
ment in the opera band, and in the latter derived
considerable advantages by teaching. He published,
with a dedication to the earl of Burlington, six solos
for a flute with a thorough-bass, and afterwards six so¬
los for a German flute and a bass. He also made in¬
to sonatas, for two violins and a bass, the first six solos
of Geminiani. He continued many years a performer
at the opera house : at length reflecting that there was
a prospect of advantage for one of his profession in
Scotland, he went thither; and, with greater truth
than the same is asserted of David Rizzio, may be said
to have meliorated the music of this country, by col¬
lecting and making basses to a great number of the
most popular Scots tunes. About the year 1750 Bar-
saQti.,.
Bartar.
BAR [
B&vsanti santi returned to England ; but being advanced in
years, he was glad to be taken into the opera band as
a performer on the tenor violin j and in the summer sea¬
son into that of Vauxhall. At this time he publish¬
ed 12 concertos for violins j and shortly after, Sei An-
tifone, in which he endeavoured to imitate the style of
Palestrina, and the old composers of motets $ but from
these publications so little profit resulted, that, towards
the end of his life, the industry and economy of an ex¬
cellent wife, whom he had married in Scotland, and
the studies and labours of a daughter, whom he had
qualified for the profession of a singer, but who is now
an actress at Covent-Garden, were his chief support.
BARTAS, William de Salluste du, a French
poet, who lived in the 16th century. He was employ¬
ed by Henry IV. of France, in England, Denmark,
and Scotland j and commanded a troop of horse in
Gascony, under the marshal de Martignan. He was
a Calvinist; and died in 1560, aged 46. He wrote a
gi’eat number of poems ; the most famous of which are,
r. The Week, or the Creation of the World, in seven
books. 2. The Poem of Judith ; and, 3. The battle of
Ivry, gained by Henry IV. in 1590. Du Bartas
wrote in a bombast style.
BARTAR, or Truck, is the exchanging of one
commodity for another. The word comes from the
Spanish barator, to deceive or circumvent in bargain¬
ing, perhaps because those who deal this way usually
endeavour to overreach one another.
To transact properly, the price of one of the com¬
modities and an equivalent quantity of the other,
must be found either by practice or by the rule of
three.
Qwerf. I. How many pounds of cotton, at pd. per lb.
must be given in bartar for 13 C. 3 Q. 14 lb. of pepper,
at il. 16s. per C.?
First, Find the price or value of the commodity
whose quantity is given as follows;
C. Q. lb. L. s.
14 at 2 16
430
2l.
16s.
2Q.
iQ.
141b.
13 3
26
10
1
8
8
7
L.38 17
Secondly, Find how much cotton, at pd. per lb. 38I.
17s. will purchase as under:
d.
If 9
lb.
1
L.
• 38
20
777
12
s.
*7
9)9324(
C.
Q.
1
]
c.
if 1
L.
2.8
B
c.
i3-875
2.8
111000
27750
A R
lb. C. Q.
•°375)38-85°°(i°36=9 1 Ans'
SI'S • • •
I35°
1125
Bartar
Bartiele-
my.
Ans. io36/^.=9
If the above question be wrought decimally, the ope¬
ration may stand as follows:
2250
2250
The value or price of the goods received and deliver¬
ed in bartar being always equal, it is obvious that the
product of the quantities received and delivered, multi¬
plied in their respective rates, will be equal.
Hence arises a rule which may be used with advan¬
tage in working several questions j namely, Multiply the
given quantity and rate of the one commodity, and the
product divided by the rate of the other commodity
quotes the quantity sought $ or divided by the quantity
quotes the rate.
Quest. 2. How many yards of linen, at 4s. per yard,
should I have in bartar for 120 yards of velvet, at 15s.
6d. ?
Yds. Sixp. Sixp. Yds.
120X 31 = 3720, and 8)3720(459^^.
BARTH, or Bart, John, a brave fisherman of Dun¬
kirk, who rose to the rank of an admiral; and is cele¬
brated for his signal valour and naval exploits, in the
annals of France. He died in 1702, aged 51.
BARTHELEMY, John James, a celebrated lite¬
rary character, born at Cassis, a little sea-port on the
shores of the Mediterranean, January 1716.
At twelve years of age he was sent to school at Mar¬
seilles. Being admitted into the college of the oratory,
he was put under the care of Father Renaud, a person
of taste and wit, who soon discovered similar qualities in
his pupil, and became uncommonly attentive to his pro¬
gress. M. de Visclede, a man of letters, and friend to
the former, also concurred with him in his endeavours,
and young Barthelemy’s career soon became equally
rapid and brilliant.
He had resolved to dedicate himself to the church ;
but, in order to prepare for this, it became necessary to
change his place of residence, for M. de Belzunce, then
bishop of Marseilles, being actuated by a narrow jealou¬
sy, refused to admit the students of the oratory to holy
orders. Barthelemy, therefore, quitting his old masters
with regret, found himself under the necessity of study¬
ing philosophy and theology with the Jesuits.
As he had not at first the good fortune to fall into
able hands, he determined to follow a private plan of
education, independent of the professors. He according¬
ly applied himself to the ancient languages, and was in¬
defatigable in obtaining a knowledge of the Greek, He¬
brew, Chaldean, and Syriac. His passion for learning
had, however, nearly cost him his life, for he fell dan¬
gerously ill, and did not recover his strength until he
had entered the seminary where he received the tonsure.
B A R f 43
Baithele- In this retreat, he dedicated his leisure hours to the
my. study of Arabic. A young Maronite, who had been
* educated at Rome, afforded him his assistance, and
enabled him not only to read, but even to speak it.
On this, his new friend proposed to him to render all
the services in his power to the Maronites, Armenians,
and other catholic Arabians, who were but slightly
acquainted with the language of the country in which
they resided : in other words, he wished that he would
announce the word of God to them in their native
tongue, and accordingly presented him with some Arabic
sermons, composed by a Jesuit, who belonged to the
propaganda.
Barthelemy got one or two of them by heart, and
pronounced them in a spacious hall belonging to the
seminary, to the entire satisfaction of his oriental audi¬
tors.
His reputation now rose high, and he began to be
considered as a youth of uncommon promise, when a
trifling incident occurred which tended not a little to
increase it. Ten or twelve of the principal merchants
of Marseilles one day introduced a person to him who
had implored their charity on the exchange, observing
that he was by birth a Jew, and had been raised, on
account of his great learning, to the dignity ofarabbin;
but having perceived, in consequence of his studies, that
the Christian was the true religion, he had become a con¬
vert. He at the same tirn^e added, that he was profound¬
ly instructed in the oriental languages, and demanded to
be put to the proof, by being confronted with some
learned man.
Barthelemy, not then 21 years of age, was imme¬
diately pitched upon. It was in vain he assured them,
that although he could read, he was unable to speak
the languages in question ; they pressed him to enter
into conversation with the native of the east; and the
stranger himself entreated that the conference might
immediately commence.
The challenge was at length accepted, and the
foreigner began the contest, from which Barthelemy
retired with the character of a prodigy of eastern eru¬
dition.
Barthelemy having now finished his education at the
seminary, retired to Aubagne, and spent some time in
the bosom of his family, by all the members of which
he was greatly beloved. He was accustomed, how¬
ever, to repair frequently to Marseilles, on purpose to
visit the academicians, and other learned men residing
there. Among those to whom he attached himself in
a particular manner, was a M. Cary, the possessor of a
fine cabinet of medals and a valuable collection of
books, which were quite analogous to the favourite sub¬
ject of his pursuits and studies. They spent whole days
together in conversing on literary subjects; after which,
Barthelemy, as if insatiable of knowledge, would retire
to the Minims, where Father Sigaloux, a correspondent
of the academy of sciences, was employed in making
astronomical observations. In these labours the young
abbe became his associate, for he was ambitious of im¬
proving in every kind of knowledge.
But he began at length to perceive, that in order to
render his studies profitable, it would be necessary to
. circumscribe them, as mediocrity of knowledge, the in¬
evitable result of a diversity of applications, was but
]
BAR
little preferable to ignorance itself. Occupied with Bartlieie-
these sentiments, he repaired to Paris in 1744, with a my.
view to devote himself entirely to literature. He was 'i
furnished with a letter to M. de Boze, keeper of the
medals, and perpetual secretary of inscriptions and
belles lettres. This learned man, so estimable in every
point of view, received him with great politeness, and
introduced him to the acquaintance of the most di¬
stinguished members of the three academies, who dined
twice a-week at his apartments. Mixing with society
of this kind, Barthelemy became more deeply enamour¬
ed than ever with a love of letters, and a respect for
those who cultivated them.
M. de Boze, in the mean time, carefully studied the
character and disposition of the young man, and at length
favoured him with his friendship, and even with his con¬
fidence ; at least he conferred as much of these as was
possible for a man of so much circumspection and reserve:.
As the increasing age, and declining health, of M.
de Boze would not permit him to apply any longer
with the intense investigation necessary for the com¬
pletion of the cabinet of medals, he had entertained
some thoughts of associating M. de Bastie, a learned
antiquary belonging to the academy of inscriptions, as
a partner in his labours. That gentleman lost the ap¬
pointment, however, in consequence of an unlucky ex¬
pression, and Barthelemy was selected a few months
afterwards : this nomination was approved of by M.
Bignon the librarian, and Maurepas the minister of the
department. From that moment the abbe dedicated
both his days and nights to the study of those medals
which his colleague had been prevented, by his in¬
firmities, from arranging.
Amidst his multiplied occupations, Barthelemy be¬
gan to enjoy a mode of life so conformable to his taste
and his talents, when he beheld with affright a new
career present itself. In the course of his journey to
the capital he had seen M. de Bausset, then a canon,
at Aix. They were friends and countrymen ; for M.
de Bausset was born at Aubagne, where his family had
been long established. As he was a young man of
consideiable expectations, he had promised that Barthe¬
lemy should become his vicar-general the moment he
himself was decorated with the mitre. Such a flatter¬
ing offer was not to be rejected ; and as the canon
was now nominated to the bishopric of Bezieres, he
did not fail to remind his old acquaintance of their mu¬
tual engagement. The sorrow of the medalist on this
occasion was too great to be concealed : he was, how¬
ever, too scrupulous an observer of his word to break
his promise ; but the prelate, who saw and felt for the
embarrassment of Barthelemy, immediately desisted from
his importunities.
On the death of M. de Boze, keeper of the cabinet
of medals, in I753> Barthelemy, who had been his
colleague during seven years, of course expected to suc¬
ceed him in that honourable situation. One person,
however, started as a candidate ; but notwithstanding
the abb6, relying on the justice of his pretensions,
took no step whatever to obtain the appointment, yet
the zeal of his friends rendered all solicitations on his
part unnecessary, for they were both numerous and
powerful. M. de Malesherbes, whose unfortunate and
tragical death all worthy men deplore ; M. de Stain-
ville.
BAR t 432 ] BAR
Barthek- vllle, afterwards a duke and minister j and M. de Gon-
my- taut, brother of the last Marshal de Biron, supported
his pretensions, and he was accordingly nominated suc¬
cessor to his friend in 1753.
M. de Stainville, afterwards better known during
his administration by the title of duke de Choiseul,
in 1754 was oppointed ambassador to Rome, Madame
de Stainviile, a lady both young and beautiful, being
passionately attached to learning and learned men, con¬
ceived a particular regard for the abbe, and it was
proposed that he should occupy a place in their car¬
riage, on this occasion, and make the tour of Italy
along with them. Such a proposition could not fail
to be highly flattering ; but he was obliged, from prin¬
ciples of duty, to refrain for a time from complying
with their wishes. He set out soon after, however,
and arrived in November at Rome, where he and his
companion were received and treated in the kindest
manner by the French plenipotentiary, who lived in a
magnificent style. Pope Benedict XIV. who then
wore the tiara, being a learned man himself, did not
fail to distinguish Barthelemy by the most courteous
reception. But his stay at Rome was not long, for he
was desirous of visiting Naples, rendered particularly
interesting to an antiquary, at that period, by the re¬
cent discoveries made in its neighbourhood. He and
his fellow-traveller were occupied during a whole month
in admiring the curiosities of that capital, and in study¬
ing ancient literature ; after which they took a journey
of 30 leagues, to behold the monuments of Grecian
architecture, still existing on the site of the ancient city
of Paestum.
The spacious apartments of the palace of Portici,
containing the antiquities of Herculaneum and Pompeiij
were still more interesting, and excited a far greater
degree of curiosity in the breasts of the French philoso¬
phers. There they beheld an immense quantity of paint¬
ings, statues, busts, vases, and utensils of every kind; ob¬
jects peculiarly calculated to engage their attention and
excite their applause. It was not, however, without a
certain mixture of grief and surprise that they noticed
the four or five hundred manuscripts, saved from the
ruins of Herculaneum, lying in the same forlorn state in
which they were discovered. Two or three only had
been unrolled, of which the learned Mazocchi has given
an explanation : as these contained nothing important,
the operation was abandoned.
But Barthelemy was not so easily discouraged, for
he unceasingly solicited, he almost condescended to in¬
trigue, with a view to engage the possessors of these
treasures to turn them to the best advantage. He, at
length, perceived his labours about to be crowned with
success a few years afterwards, but he was finally dis¬
appointed by the death of the marquis Caraccioli, the
minister of Naples, who had entered most cordially in¬
to his views.
Another subject about this time also engaged the
attention of the abbe. He was exceedingly desirous
ol presenting the learned men of France with a spe¬
cimen of the ancient writing employed in the Greek
manuscripts. He accordingly addressed himself, on
this subject, to his friend Mazocchi, and also to M.
Paderno, who superintended the treasures of Portici:
both, however, replied that they were expressly enjoin¬
ed not to communicate any thing. On this he solicited
permission to look, for a few minutes only, on a page of
a manuscript which had been cut from top to bottom
since its discovery. It contained 28 lines, and Barthe¬
lemy read it over six different times with extreme at¬
tention , after this he retired to a corner and trans¬
cribed the precious fragment, on a piece of paper, from
memory. He then returned, and having made a men¬
tal collation between the copy and the original he cor¬
rected two or three trifling errors that had escaped his
attention.
Having thus rendered himself master of a facsimile
of the MS. which related to the persecution of the
Greek philosophers during the time of Pericles, he
transmitted the literary plunder in the course of that
very day to the academy of belles lettres, strictly en¬
joining secrecy, however, that Mazocchi and Paderno
might escape all manner of blame.
M. de Stainville having been appointed ambassador
to the court of Vienna, in I757> the abbe accompanied
his lady thither. On his arrival he found that bis friend
and protector had made certain engagements with the
French ministry, on purpose to gratify his passion for an¬
tiquities. In consequence of this he had leave to visit
Greece and the sea-ports of the Mediterranean, at the
king’s expence, where he was to amass new treasures,
and return with them to his native country by Marseilles.
But, notwithstanding all the attractions that this pro¬
ject presented, his scrupulous attachment to his duty
prevailed over his passion for knowledge ; as he deem¬
ed it highly improper that the cabinet of medals should
be so long shut.
At length, towards the end of 1758, M. de Stainville,
now become duke de Choiseul, was nominated minister
for foreign affairs in the room of the abbe de Bernis,
who had retired with a cardinal’s hat. No sooner did
this event take place, than both he and his lady deter-
mided to provide for their friend. They accordingly
requested Barthelemy to state the sum that would make
him easy for life, and he instantly mentioned 600c
livres a-year 5 blushing at the same time at the large¬
ness of the demand.
As the purse of the nation was now open to the pa¬
tron, he distributed his favours with a liberal hand ;
and it must be owned that, on this occasion, an object
worthy of remuneration presented itself in the person of
the learned abbe. Accordingly, in 1759, he present¬
ed him with a pension on the archbishopric of Alby j
in 1765 he conferred on him the treasurership of St
Martin de Tours, and in 1768 he made him secretary-
general to the Swiss guards. In addition to these the
abbe also enjoyed a pension of 5000 livres on the Mer¬
cury. His income was now very large, but he employ¬
ed it nobly ; for he distributed the surplus, which was
considerable, among indigent men of letters.
In 1771 M. de Choiseul was disgraced, being suc¬
ceeded in his office by his enemy the duke d’Aiguilloir,
and exiled to his estate at Chanteloupe. On this oc¬
casion he was forsaken as usual by the courtiers, who
had basked in the sunshine of his favour j but he was
not deserted by the grateful antiquary, who instantly
repaired thither to pay his respects ; nay, when the
king demanded the duke’s resignation of the post of
colonel-general of the Swiss guards, the abbe, with a
Bai'thele-
iarthele- spirit that does honour to his memory, Insisted on send-
my‘ , ing hls own resignation of the secretaryship 5 but the
1 ex-minister interfered, and prevailed upon him not to
deliver it up without an indemnification, which should
be sanctioned by the great seal, and authorized by let¬
ters patent enregistered in parliament.
Barthelemy was now in possession of more than
12001. sterling per annum j of this he distributed be¬
tween three and four hundred in the manner before re¬
lated : the remainder was not dissipated in pomp and
ostentation, but employed in such a manner as to en¬
able him to enjoy philosophic ease. He also educa¬
ted and established three nephews in life, one of whom
has been successively ambassador and director : he at
the same time supported the rest of his family in Pro¬
vence, and selected a noble library, which he disposed
of some years before his death.
After having thus possessed an ample income during
more than twenty years, the abbe Barthelemy found
himself, towards the latter end of his existence, re¬
duced to live on a pittance calculated merely to fornish
the indispensable necessaries of life, in consequence of
the suppression of places and appointments that ensued
immediately after the revolution. He was never heard,
however, to complain ; nay, he did not seem to per¬
ceive the change ; and, while he was still permitted by
his age and infirmities to walk from one end of Paris
to the other, to pay his respects to Madame de Choi-
seul, he seemed to the full as happy as before.
In 1788 appeared his celebrated work, entitled
I oynge dujeune yJn qc liar sis en Greece^ dans le milieu
du quatrieme siecle avant Pere Chretienne. He had
begun it in I757> an£l, during an uninterrupted succes¬
sion of 30 years, occupied his leisure hours in bringing
it to maturity.
His hero, a young Scythian, descended from the
famous philosopher Anacharsis, whose name he bears,
is supposed to repair to Greece, for his instruction in
his early youth, and, after making a tour of her repub¬
lics, her colonies, and her islands, he returns to his
native country and writes this book, in his old age,
after the hero of Macedon had overturned the Persian
empire. In the manner of modern travellers, he gives
an account of the customs, government, and antiquities,
of the Country he has visited; a copious introduction
supplies whatever may be wanting in respect to histori¬
cal details j while various dissertations on the music of
the Greeks, on the literature of the Athenians, and on
the economy, pursuits, ruling passions, manners and
customs, of all the surrounding states, afford ample gra¬
tification to the reader of taste.
In 1789 the author became a candidate for a chair
in the French academy ; and such was the reputation
he had obtained by his labours, that this learned body
became particularly anxious to enrol him among its
members} he was accordingly elected by acclamation.
The speech delivered by the Abbe on his inauguration
has been equally celebrated for its simplicity and mo¬
desty.
In 1790 M. de St Priest, minister of the depart¬
ment of Paris, made him an offer of the place of li¬
brarian to the king, then vacant by the resignation of M.
le Noir. This was, at that period, a very flattering
proposal, but it was not accepted; for the Abbe ima¬
gined that it irtight interfere w'ith his literary occuua-
Vol. III. Part II. +
turns, and therefore, after expressing his gratitude, he Barthete-
declmed the intended favour. my.
In the mean time, while Barthelemy was thus refu- *
sing one of the most honourable offices that a man of
letters could at that time aspire to, he did not neglect
the department which had so long been confided to his
charge. His ardour, in respect to every thing that
concerned the cabinet of medals, remained unabated
and unaltered through life, and he now found means
to have his nephew, Barthelemy Cour^y, associated
with him in his labours. This grand collection had re¬
ceived a considerable increase, and been embellished
with a number of fine specimens since it was confided
to his care. To enrich it still more, he carried on a
correspondence, not only with the various provinces of
France, but also with all parts of Europe.
In the mean time, the health of the learned medal¬
list declined daily, and, in 1792, his strength began
to fail him. Towards the beginning of the next year
he became subject to fainting fits, which deprived him
of the exercise of his faculties for several hours toge¬
ther. Being naturally calm and courageous, he did
not appear, however, to be in the least affected by these
accidents, but his friends considered them as symptoms
of a speedy dissolution.
He was now seventy-eight years of age, sixty of
which had been spent in literary toils, when an event
occurred, calculated to excite the most bitter indigna¬
tion. On the 30th August, 1793, this feeble old man
was denounced as an aristocrat, and his nephew and se¬
veral other young men employed about the library were
included in the supposed guilt. The accusation pro¬
ceeded from a person of the name of Duby, a clerk in
the library, and was conveyed in a letter written by
him to a person of the name of Chretien, a pastry¬
cook, who happened to be a member of the section,
before which it was first read, and then transmitted to
the municipality. It ought not to be omitted here
that Duby did not know Chretien, or Chretien Duby,
and that Barthelemy was not acquainted with either of
them !
A warrant was immediately issued against the sup¬
posed culprits, and this was signified by the officers of
justice to the Abbe, who happened to be at Madame de
Choiseul’s, on the morning of the 2d of September. On
this he instantly arose, and, without discovering anv
symptoms of fear, took his leave of that lady, and was
conducted to the Magdelonettes, where he found his
nephew Conroy. Such, however, was the respect paid
to his virtue and his talents, even within the walls of
a prison, that, on entering the gate, he was received
with every expression of regard by the inhabitants of
this dreary mansion, and the gaoler, whose name was
^anbertrand, paid the utmost attention to him. He
was accordingly lodged in a little apartment along with
his relation, and in the course of that evening he re¬
ceived a visit from Madame de Choiseul, who had ta¬
ken care to intimate the event to the government. No
sooner was the committee informed that the Abbe Bar¬
thelemy had been .included in the order that was meant
only to extend to some of the subalterns employed in
the library, than orders were instantly issued for his re¬
lease, and we are assured by his friend the duke de Ni- .
vernois, that the clerks in the public offices displayed
the utmost zeal in forwarding the necessary papers for his
3 1 liberation ;
BAR
Biir*hele-
mv
li.
Baitliius.
deration : accordingly at eleven o’clock at night he
was awaked from his sleep, and conducted to the house
of his fair friend.
But the attention of the government did not stop
here 5 for in a few weeks afterwards, the place of na¬
tional librarian being vacant by the death of Carra, and
the resignation of Chamfort, who had held it jointly, it
was offered to the Abbe, with the most flattering marks
of attention. His age and infirmities, however, af¬
forded but too good a pretext for his refusal.
In 1794 his approaching dissolution was apparent to
every one but himself, for his fainting fits became
longer and more frequent; however, as he did not re¬
tain any remembrance of them, he occupied his time
as usual ; in other words, he devoted all his hours to
friendship and literature.
He had now reached the 80th year of a life which
had been entirely spent in a laborious and incessant ap¬
plication to study, which had secretly weakened the
springs of existence. The rigour of the winter of 1795,
against which he had adopted no precautions, is suppo¬
sed to have hastened the catastrophe 5 this did not oc¬
cur, however, until the spring.
On the 25th of April he dined with Madame de
Choiseul. In the course of the night he became so
weak that he was unable to ring his be’! ; and in the
morning, when his servant entered, he was found with
his feet in the bed and his head on the floor, entirely
deprived of sensation. After being replaced, his re¬
collection returned, but he grew gradually worse, and
he was carried off without experiencing any pain,
April 30. 1795.
He retained full possession of all his senses until the
very last moment. At one o’clock he read Horace as
if nothing extraordinary had occurred ; but his hands
turning cold, in consequence of the approach of death,
became unable to support the book, which fell to the
ground. His head soon after was seen to incline on
one side, he appeared to sleep, and it was believed by
his nephew and his attendants that this was really the
case j but it was soon discovered that his respiration
had ceased, and that this learned man was no more 1
I bus died, without any of the usual struggles that
accompany death, John James Barthelemv, one of the
greatest ornaments of his age, regretted by all his re¬
lations as if he had been their common father, whose
life presented an example, and whose works form a
model for literary men. In person he was above the
middle size, and, if we are to give credit to his ad¬
mirers, his countenance displayed an air of antiquity
wonderfully correspondent to his studies. His bust,
carved by the chissel of Houdon, is allowed to be a
masterpiece of art, and that able sculptor has con¬
trived to infuse into the physiognomy a mixture of the
mildness, simplicity, good-nature, and grandeur, so vi¬
sible in the original.
BARIHEZ, Paul Joseph, an eminent French
physician. See Supplement.
BABTHIUS, Caspar, a very learned and copi¬
ous writer, born at Custnn in Brandenburg, the 22d
of June 1576. Mr Baillet has inserted him in his En-
fans Celebres; where he tells us, that at 12 years of
age he translated David’s Psalms into Latin verse of
every measure, and published several Latin poems,
kpon the death of his father (who was professor of civil
[ 434- ]
BAR
law at Francfort, counsellor to the elector of Branden¬
burg, and his chancellor at Custrin), he was sent to
Gotha, then to Eisenach, and afterwards, according to
custom, went through all the different universities in
Germany. When he had finished his studies, he tra¬
velled into Italy, France, Spain, and England. He
studied the modern as well as ancient languages, and
his translations from the Spanish and French show that
he was not content with a superficial knowledge. Upon
his return to Germany, he took up his residence at
Leipsic, where he led a retired life, his passion for stu¬
dy having made him renounce all sort of employment.
He wrote a vast number of books j the principal of
which are, 1. His Adverswia, a large volume in folio5
the second and third volumes of which he left in manu¬
script. 2. A Translation of iEneas Gazseus. 3. A
large volume of Notes upon Claudian, in qto. 4. Three
large volumes upon Statius j &c. Lie died at Leipsic
in 1658, aged 71. .
BAR I'HOLINUS Caspar, a learned physician and
anatomist in the 17th century, was born at Malmoe
a town in the province of Schonen, which then be¬
longed to Denmark. At three years of age he had
such a quick capacity, that in 14 days he learned to
read i and in his 13th year he composed Greek and
Latin orations, and pronounced them in public. When
he was about 18 he went to the university of Copenha¬
gen, and afterwards studied at Rostock and Wirtem-
berg. He next set out upon his travels 5 during which
he neglected no opportunity of improving himself at
the different universities to which he came, and every¬
where receiving marks of respect. He was in 1613
chosen professor of physic in that university, which he
enjoyed 11 years j when, falling into a dangerous ill¬
ness, he made a vow, that if it should please God to
restore him, he would solely apply himself to the study
of divinity. He recovered, and kept his word ; anil
soon after obtained the professorship of divinity, and
the canonry of Roschild. He died on the 13th of
July 1629, after having written several small works
chiefly on metaphysics, logic, and rhetoric.
Bartholinus, Thomas^ a celebrated physician, son
of the former, was born at Copenhagen in 1616. Af¬
ter studying some years in his own country, he in 1637
went to Leyden, where he studied physic during three
years. He then travelled into France ; and resided
two years at Paris and Montpelier, in order to improve
himself under the famous physicians of those universities.
Afterwards going to Italy, he continued three years
at Padua 5 and at length went to Basil, where he ob¬
tained the degree of doctor of philosophy. Soon after,
he returned to Copenhagen ; where in 1647 ^ie was
appointed professor of the mathematics j and next year
wa>nominated to the anatomical chair, an employment
better suited to his genius and inclination j which he
discharged with great assiduity for 13 years, and dis¬
tinguished himself by making several discoveries with
respect to the lacteal veins and lymphatic vessels. His
close application, however, having rendered his con¬
stitution very infirm, he, in 1661, resigned his chair j
but the king of Denmark allowed him the title of
honorary professor. He now retired to a little estate he
had purchased at Llagested, near Copenhagen, where
he hoped to have spent the remainder of his days in
peace and tranquillity; but his house being burnt in
1650,
BarUiiu^
Bartholi.
nus.
JarloIo-
B .A. B [435
Bartholi- I5^°» library, with all his books anti manuscripts,
mis was destroyed. In consideration of this loss the king
" appointed him his physician with a handsome salary,
and exempted his land from all taxes 5 the university of
—1 Copenhagen also appointed him their librarian 5 and,
in 1675) the king did him the honour to give him a
seat in the grand council of Denmark. He wrote,
I. Anatomia Caspari Bartholini Parentis, navis Obser-
vationibus primum locnplelata, 8vo. 2. De Momtris in
Natura et Medicina, 4to. 3. De Armillis Veterum, prce-
sertim Danarum, Schedion, 8voj and several other works.
This great man died on the 4th of December 1680.
St BARTHOLOMEW’S day, a festival of the
Christian church, celebrated on the 24th of August.
St Bartholomew was one of the twelve apostles 5 and
is esteemed to be the same as Nathanael, one of the
first disciples that came to Christ.
It is thought this apostle travelled as far as India,
to propagate the gospel ; for Eusebius relates, that a
famous philosopher and Christian, named Pantcenus,
desiring to imitate the apostolical zeal in propagating
the faith, and travelling for that purpose as far as In¬
dia, found there, among those who yet retained the
knowledge of Christ, the gospel of St Matthew, writ¬
ten, as the tradition asserts, by St Bartholomew^, one
of the twelve apostles, when he preached the gospel in
that country. From thence he returned to the more
northern and western parts of Asia, and preached to the
people of Hierapolis 5 then in Lycaonia 5 and lastly at
Albania, a city upon the Caspian sea, where his en¬
deavours to reclaim the people from idolatry were
crowned with martyrdom, he being (according to some
writers) flayed alive, and crucified with his head down¬
wards.—There is mention made of a Gospel of St Bar¬
tholomew, in the preface to Origen’s Homilies on St
Luke, and in the preface to St Jerome’s Commentary
on St Matthew : but it is generally looked upon as
spurious, and is placed by Pope Gelasius among the
apocryphal books.
Bartholomew, St, one of the Caribbee islands,
belonging to the French, but ceded by them to Sweden
in 1785’ It >s about 24 miles in compass, and has a
good haven. W. Long. 62. 15. N. Lat. 18. 16.
BARTHOLOMITES, a religious order founded
at Genoa in the year 1307 j but the monks leading
very irregular lives, the order was suppressed by Pope
Innocent X. in 1650, and their elfects were confisca¬
ted. In the church of the monastery of this order at
Genoa is preserved the image which it is pretended
Christ sent to King Abgarus. See Abgarus.
BARTOLOCCI, Julius, a learned monk, and
professor of Hebrew at Rome, was born at Celeno, in
1613 ; and distinguished himself by writing an ex¬
cellent Hebrew and Latin catalogue of the Hebrew
writers and writings, in 4 vols folio, a continuation of
which was performed by Imbonati his disciple. He
died in 1687.
BARTOLOMEO, Francisco, a celebrated pain¬
ter, born at Savignano, a village 10 miles from Flo¬
rence, in the year 1469, was the disciple of Cosimo
Rosselli, but was much more beholden to the works of
Leonardo da Vinci for his extraordinary skill in paint¬
ing. He was well versed in the fundamentals of design.
Raphael, after quitting the school of Perngino, ap¬
plied to this master > and under him studied the rules
]
BAS
Barttdo-
Basaltes.
of perspective, with the art of managing and uniting
his colours. In the year 1500, he turned Dominican
mar; and some time after was sent by his superiors to
the convent of St Martin, in Florence. He painted v
both portraits and histories ; bnt his scrupulous con- y ""
science would hardly ever suffer him to draw naked fi¬
gures, though nobody understood them better. He
died in 1517, aged 48.
. RARIQN, a town of Lincolnshire, seated on the
river Humber, where there is a considerable ferry to
pass over into Yorkshire. Population 2204 in 1811.
W. Long, o, 10. N. Lat. 53. 40.
BARISIA, Painted Cup* See Botany Index.
BARUCH, the Prophecy of, one of the apocry¬
phal books, subjoined to the canon of the Old Testa¬
ment. Baruch was the son of Neriah, who was the dis¬
ciple and amanuensis of the prophet Jeremiah. It has
been reckoned part of Jeremiah’s prophecy, and is oft¬
en cited by the ancient fathers as such. Josephus tells
us, Baruch was descended of a noble family ; and it is
said in the book itself, that he wrote this prophecy at
Babylon ; but at what time is uncertain. It is difficult
to determine in what language this prophecy was ori¬
ginally written. There are extant three copies of it;
one in Greek, the other two in Syriac ; but which of
these, or whether any one of them, be the original, is
uncertain. , /
BARULES, in church history, certain heretics,
•who held, that the Son of God had only a phantom of
a body; that souls were created before the world, and
that they lived all at one time.
BARUTH, an ancient town of Turkey, in Syria,
with a Christian church of the Nestorian persuasion.
It is situated in a fine fertile soil, but is inconsiderable
now to what it was formerly. E. Long. 34. 40. N.
33- 3°*
Baruth, an Indian measure, containing 17 gantans;
It ought to weigh about three pounds and a half En¬
glish avoirdupois.
BARYTONUM, in the Greek grammar, denotes
a verb, which having no accent marked on the last syl¬
lable, a grave accent is to be understood. In Italian
music, barytona answers to our common pitch of bass.
BAS chevalier. See Bachelor.
BAS-Relief. See BASSO-Relievo.
Bas, James Philip le, a modern French engraver,
by whom we have some excellent prints. His great
force seems to lie in landscapes and small figures, which
he executed in a superior manner. His style of en¬
graving is extremely neat; but yet he proves the free¬
dom of the etching, and harmonizes the whole with
the graver and dry point. We have also a variety of
pretty vignettes by this artist. He flourished about
the middle of the present century; hut we have no
account of the time of his birth or death.
BASALTES, (from basal, “iron,” or NameT dc_
diligenter examino), in Natural History, a heavy, hard rivation
stone, chiefly black or green, consisting of prismatic See.
crystals, the number of whose sides is uncertain. The
English miners call it cockle ; the German schoerl. Its
specific gravity is to that of water as 3000 or upwards
to 1000. It frequently contains iron: and consists
either of particles of an indeterminate figure, or of a
sparry, striated, or fibrous texture. It has a flinty
hardness, is insoluble by acids, and is fusible bv fire.
3 I 2 ' The
BAS
Easaltes. The following is an analysis of some basaltes by Mr
1 v 1 Bergman ; and as the resemblance of it to lava will be
frequently mentioned in the succeeding part of this ar¬
ticle, we shall here contrast this analysis with that of
lava by the same author.
[ 436 ]
BAS
Basaltes, 100 parts con¬
tains
50
15
8
„ 2
25
Compara¬
tive analy¬
sis basal-Si]iceoug
tes and
lava.
Lava,. 100 parts contains
Siliceous earth
Argillaceous
Calcareous
Iron
49
35
4
12
Argillaceous
Calcareous
Magnesia
Iron
Dr Kennedy, an ingenious chemist, analyzed seve¬
ral species of basalt, whinstone, and lava, of which the
following are the results.
Phil. Tran,
Edin. vol.
y.
Basalt from Staffa contains, in 100 parts,
Silex
Argil
Oxyd of iron
Lime
Moisture and other volatile matter
Soda, about
Muriatic acid, about
48
16
16
9
J
4
1
99
Whinstone of Salisbury rock near Edinburgh contains^
in 100 parts,
Silex * - - 46
Argil _ 19
Oxyd of iron - _
Lime - - - 8
Moisture and other volatile matter 4
Soda, about - . ^ ^
Muriatic acid, about - - i
Whinstone from Caltonhill near Edinburgh contains,
in 100 parts,
Silex -
Argil ...
Oxyd of iron ...
Carbonate of lime
Moisture and other volatile matter
Soda, about
Muriatic acid, about
. 98*25
Lava from Catania, Mount iEtna, contains, in IOo
parts,
Silex - _ _
Argil
Oxyd of iron
Lime - -
Soda, about
Muriatic acid, about
51
J9
14*5
9*5
4
1
99
Lava from Sta Venere, 7Etna, contains, in too parts,
Silex
Argil
Oxyd of iron
Lime
Soda, about
Muriatic acid, about
50*75
J7*5
14.25
10
4
1
97*5
The most remarkable property of this substance is
its figure, being never found in strata, like other mar¬
bles, but always standing up in the form of regular
angular columns, composed of a number of joints, one
placed upon, and nicely fitted to another, as if formed
by the hands of a skilful workman. See Plate
LXXXV. fig. 15. *
. Basaltes was originally found in columns in Ethio- Basaltey
pia, and fragments of it in the river Tmolus, and where
some other places. We now have it frequently, bothfl>nD<J>
in columns and small pieces, in Spain, Russia, Poland,
near Dresden, and in Silesia j but the noblest store in
the world seems to be that called the Giant’s Cause¬
way in Ireland and Stafta, one of the western isles of
Scotland *. Great quantities of basaltes are likewise* See
found in the neighbourhood of Mount JEtna in Sicily, Giont’j
of Hecla in Iceland, and of the volcano in the island CaustwV
pf Bourbon. These are the only three active volcanoesand
in whose neighbourhood it is to be met with $ but it
is also found in the extinguished volcanoes in Italy,
though not in the neighbourhood of Vesuvius.
In Ireland the basaltes rises far up the country, runs of the
into the sea, crosses at the bottom, and rises again on Giant’«
the opposite land. In Staffa the whole end of the?31156"8*
island is supported by natural ranges of pillars, mostlyin IreIand'
above 50 feet high, standing in natural colonnades,
accoi ding as the bays and points of land have formed
themselves, upon a firm basis of solid unformed rock.
Above these, the stratum, which reaches to the soil or
surface of the island, varies in thickness, as the island
itself is formed into hills or valleys, each hill, which
hangs over the valleys below, forming an ample pedi¬
ment. Some of these, above 60 feet in thickness from
the base to the point, are formed by the sloping of the
hill on each side, almost into the shape of those used in
architecture.
The pillars of the Giant’s Causeway have been very
particularly described and examined. The most ac¬
curate account of them is to be met with in a work en¬
titled, “ Letters concerning the northern coast of the
county of Antrim from which the following particu-
lais^ relative to the present subject are extracted. ^
1. The pillars of the Causeway are small, not very Particulai
much exceeding 1 foot in breadth and 30 in length j account of
sharply defined, neat in their articulation, with con-tbe l,illar,,
cave or convex terminations to each point. In many
0 t e capes and hills they are of a larger size j morepjate
imperfect and irregular in their figure and articulation, LXXXVI.
haying often flat terminations to their joints. Atflg. i*
t airhead they are of a gigantic magnitude, sometimes
exceeding 5 feet in breadth and 100 in length ; often¬
times apparently destitute of joints altogether. Through
many parts of the country, this species of stone is en¬
tirely rude and unformed, separating in loose blocks}
in.
BAS
ksaltes. in which state, it resembles the stone known in Sweden
—Y——' by the name of trappe.
“ 2. Ihe pillars of the Giant’s Causeway stand on
the level ot the beach ; from whence they may be tra¬
ced through all degrees of elevation to the summit of
the highest grounds in the neighbourhood.
u 3* ^ Causeway, and in most other places,
they stand perpendicular to the horizon. In some of
the capes, and particularly near Ushet harbour, in the
isle ot Bagherry, they lie in an oblique position. At
Doon point in the same island, and along the Balintoy
shore, they form a variety of regular curves.
“ 4; Thf stone is black, close, and uniform j the
varieties of colour are blue, reddish, and gray ; and of
all kinds ot grain, Irom extreme fineness to the coarse
granulated appearance ot a stone which resembles im¬
perfect granite, abounding in crystals of schorl, chiefly
black, though sometimes of various colours.
“ 5. Though the stone of the Giant’s Causeway be
in general compact and homogeneous $ yet it is re¬
markable, that the upper joint of each pillar, where it
can be ascertained with any certainty, is always rude¬
ly formed and cellular. The gross pillars also in the
capes and mountains frequently abound in these air¬
holes through all their parts, which sometimes contain
fine clay, and other apparently foreign bodies: and the
irregular basaltes beginning where the pillars cease, or
lying over them, is in general extremely honey-comb¬
ed ; containing in its cells crystals of zeolite, little
morsels of fine brown clay, sometimes very pure steatite,
6 and in a few instances bits of agate.
iiiount of S*1’ Joseph Banks observes, that the bending pillars
fjieia of Staffa differ considerably from those of the Giant’s
Wa. Causeway. In Staffa they lie down on their sides,
each forming the segment of a circle; and in one
place, a small mass of them very much resembles the
ribs of a ship. I hose of the Giant’s Causeway which
he saw, ran along the face ot a high cliff, bent strangely
in the middle, as if unable, at their first formation,
while in a soft state, to support the mass of incumbent
7 matter.
niksof The rocks of the Cyclops, in the neighbourhood of
b ribed * ^tna> exhibit very magnificent basaltic pillars. A
general view of them is given on Plate LXXXVI. fig.
2. where a, b, c, are the three principal rocks j e is
the extremity of an island, one half of which is compo¬
sed of lava, on a base of basaltes, of no uncommon na¬
ture ; above which there is a crust of pozzolana, com¬
bined with a certain white calcareous matter, which is
pretty hard and compact 5 and which, as it is compo¬
sed by the action of the air, appears like a piece of
knotty porous wood. That rock, at some former pe¬
riod, became so hard as to split j and the clefts were
then filled up with a very hard and porous matter like
scoriae. This matter afterwards acquiring new hard¬
ness, also split, leaving large interstices, which in their
turn have been filled up with a species of compound
yellow matter. The island was formerly inhabited ;
and there still remains a flight of steps leading from the
shore to the rums ot some houses which appear to have
been hewn in the rock.
The rock b has the straightest and most regular co¬
lumns of any. It is represented distinctly in Plate
LXXXVII. fig, 1. and likewise a general view of c
ajjd d, with the foot of TEtna leading to Catanea.
r 437 ]
BAS
Ihese basaltic columns, at first view, seem to resemble Uasakcs.
those of the Giant’s Causeway, and others commonly ^ t
met with : but on a nearer inspection, we find a re-
markable difference j being assembled in groups of
five or six about one, which serves as their common
centre. They are of various sizes and forms ; some
square, others hexagonal, heptagonal, or octagonal.
One half of this rock is composed of perpendicular co¬
lumns j the other of another species of basaltes disposed
in inclined, and almost rectilinear, layers. These are
in contact with the columns, and are as closely con¬
nected with them as they are with one another. The
layers are longer at the base than towards the top of
the rock. It is further to be remarked, that most of
these layers are subdivided as they rise upwards ; so
that towards these upper extremities, one layer presents
to the eye sometimes one, sometimes two, and some¬
times three, divisions. The fragments of basaltes ta¬
ken off from these layers are of a rhomboidal figure,
because the layers break obliquely.
These layers, though inclined towards the base, be¬
come almost perpendicular towards the upper part of
the rock, where they appear united in a point, and
overtop most of the visible and elevated parts of the
prismatic columns. These columns terminate in such
a manner as to form a kind of staircase. They appear
even to rise under a species of clay with which they are
covered at one extremity, till they reunite themselves
with the point which is formed by the most elevated
parts of the layers of basaltes beside them.
This extraneous matter with which these columns
are covered, and of which the summit of this pyramid
consists, appears to be of the same species with the
former, composing the upper’part of the island already
described.
The basaltes of that island has one particularity, viz.
that it. is full of small crystals of about the size of
peas. These appear no less beautiful than rock-crystal;
but they are much softer, and yield even to the action
of the air. We see here large fragments of basaltes
which were formerly full of crystals, but destroyed by
time. They are now not unlike a sponge, from the
great number of holes which appear all over their sur¬
face. Those pieces of basaltes which contain 'most of
these crystals are not so hard as those which contain
fewer of them.
The promontory of Castel d’laci, which terminates Basaltes ox
the basis of AEtna, is almost entirely composed of ba-tbepro-
saltes, but of a kind very different from the former. It montory of
consists of a great number of cylinders, from the dia-*1,1® c.astel
meter of six inches to that of twenty feet. Some ogJ^j
these are solid, others hollow like cannon: some ex¬
tended in layers, others similar to carrots of tobacco
consisting of a number of pieces squeezed together.
Some of these cylinders are straight, others curved into
a variety of forms. Some look like globes enclosed in
the rocks j and in the fractures of these globes we per¬
ceive the strata of which they are composed.
Fig. 2. represents the basaltes at the foot of this
promontory on the south side. The little mounts in¬
to which it appears to be collected, are sometimes on¬
ly one French foot in diameter, sometimes six. They
are composed of small prisms or needles, or of cubic
trapezoids, and consist of a matter distinguished by thtj
name o£ dirty Java. It is made up of pozzolana, con¬
solidated
BAS
[ 438 ]
BAS
Basaltes. solidated by a certain liquid, which, while it has com-
v-—-v-i..iii.i) municated solidity to the pozzolana, has at the same
time suffered that substance to shrink considerably, in
such a manner as to leave large chinks between the
pieces of basaltes, which are thus formed by the opera¬
tion of the liquid on the pozzolana. It appears also
to have insinuated itself into the clay with which the
promontory is covered j which is' become hard in its
turn, and which has also split into chinks that appear
to contain a kind of hard matter. *
These descriptions and figures will serve to give an
idea of the appearance of the basaltes, which is now
generally accounted a kind of marble. Wallerins con¬
siders it as a species of the corneous or horn-rock j and
Cronstedt enumerates it among those substances which
Basaltes he calls garnet earths. The largest block of this stone
used in dif-that ever was seen, was placed according to Pliny, by
ferentan- Vespasian in the temple of Peace. It represented the
eieatworks. ggUre 0f NJHi^ with 16 children playing about it, de¬
noting as many cubits of the rise of the river. The
statue of Memnon, in the temple of Serapis at Thebes,
which sounded at the rising of the sun, was also made
of the same material, if we may believe this author.
Most of the Egyptian figures are likewise made of ba¬
saltes. Some of the ancients call it lapis Lydius, from
Lydia, where it seems it was formerly found in great¬
est abundance. The moderns denominate it the touch-
to stone, as being used for the trial of gold and silver.
Substances Various substances are found intermixed with basal-
basaTt ^eS ’ M1’ Hamilton, in the letters above-men¬
tioned, enumerates the following : 1. Extensive layers
of red ochre, varying in all degrees from a dull fer¬
ruginous colour to a bright red, answering very well
for coarse painting. 2. Veins of iron ore, sometimes
very rich, commonly of a very brown or reddish cast,
at other times of a blue colour. 3. Steatites, gene¬
rally of a greenish soapy appearance, more rarely of a
pure white, and raising an imperfect saponaceous froth
when agitated with water. 4. Zeolite, of a bright
and pure white colour ; in masses, varying in weight
from a grain to a pound $ generally disposed in cavities
of the cellular basaltes; often affecting a crystallization,
in which the fibres proceed as rays from a centre; and
in some instances have a beautiful spangled appearance,
resembling that of thistle-down. The most remarkable
property of this substance is, that with any of the mi¬
neral acids, but especially with that of nitre, it forms
a gelatinous mixture in the course of a few hours.
5. Peperino stone, a friable matrix of indurated clay
and iron, studded with little bits of zeolite or other
substances ; and which is often of a reddish burnt co¬
lour. 6. Pumice-stone of a black colour, containing
iron not entirely dephlogisticated, but still acting on
11 the magnetical needle.
Ofthena- These substances are met with among the basaltes
saltedl,a" t^,e Giant’s Causeway in Ireland. In other places
,2 its attendants may perhaps vary according to circum-
MrHamil- stances. Hie basaltes itself has been considered by
-ton’s state some as a crystallization from water; but others stre-
°fmentr* ?uous^y maintain that it is only a species of lava, and
concerning *n ^e^ence °f these opinions very considerable disputes
it. have been carried on. The following is a state of the
arguments on both sides from Mr Hamilton’s treatise
already mentioned.
In support of the volcanic origin of the basaltes it
has been argued, '
1. That it agrees almost entirely with lava in its ele¬
mentary principles, in its grain, the species of the fo¬
reign bodies it includes, dnd all the diversities of its
texture.
2. The iron of the basaltes is found to be in a me¬
tallic state, capable of acting on the magnetical needle,
which is also the case with that found in compact
lava.
3. The basaltes is fusible per se ; a property which
it has in common with lavas.
4. The basaltes is a foreign substance superinduced
on the original limestone-soil of the country, in a state
of softness capable of allowing the flints to penetrate
considerably within its lower surface.
5. Those extensive beds of red ochre which abound
among our basaltes are supposed to be an iron earth re¬
duced to that state by the powerful action of heat; for
such a change may be produced on iron in our com¬
mon furnaces, provided there be a sufficient afflux of
fresh air; and the basaltes itself, in such circumstances,
is easily reducible to an impure ochre. This is also
found to take place in the living volcanoes, particular¬
ly within their craters ; and is therefore supposed to af¬
ford a presumptive argument of the action of fire in
the neighbourhood of basaltes.
6. Though zeolite is not yet proved to be the actual
production of a volcano, yet its presence is always sup¬
posed to give countenance to this hypothesis ; because
zeolite is found in countries where the action of sub¬
terraneous fire is still visible, and where there is reason
to believe that the whole soil has been ravaged by that
principle. Thus it abounds in Iceland, where the
flames of Hecla yet continue to blaze ; and in the isle
of Bourbon, where there is still a volcano in force.
It is therefore supposed to arise from the decomposition
of the products of a volcano, where the fires have been
long extinct.
7. Crystals of schorl appear in great plenty among
many kinds of our basaltes ; and these, though not ab¬
solutely limited to volcanic countries, yet being found
in great abundance among the Italian lavas, in circum¬
stances exactly corresponding to those of our basaltes,
are thought to supply a good probable argument in the
present case.
8. The peperino stone is thought to be undoubted¬
ly of a volcanic origin. It has frequently the burnt
and spongy appearance of many of the volcanic pro¬
ducts ; and that of the Giant’s Causeway agrees exact¬
ly with the peperino of Iceland and Bourbon.
9. Puzzolane earth is met with among the basaltes
of France ; and there is very little reason to doubt that
our basaltes, if pulverized, would agree with it in every
respect; that is, it would produce a fine sharp powder,
containing the same elementary parts, and probably
agreeing with it in its valuable uses as a cement. This
earth is also found in the Canary islands, which are
thought to have other marks of fire; it is met with
in all the volcanized parts of Italy, and is never found
excepting where there are other evident marks of
fire.
10. Pumice-stone is universally allowed to be produ¬
ced by fire, and indeed bears the resemblance of a cin¬
der
BAS
Bafaltse. der so obviously, that one must be Instantly convinced
—v—-' of its original. This is also found among the basaltes
of Ireland.
ii. There are three living volcanoes, within whose
neighbourhood the basaltes and most of its usual at¬
tendant fossils have been observed, viz. ./Etna in Sicily,
Hecla in Iceland, and the island of Bourbon on the
coast of Africa. To which it may be added, that it
is found throughout all the volcanized parts of Italy,
13 though not anywhere immediately in the neighbour-
the hood of Vesuvius. Sir William Hamilton, however,
awrTout I*n^orms us’ t^at ^ie year J779 lie “ picked up some
Vesu- fragments of large and regular crystals of close-grained
(is. lava or basalt; the diameter of which, when the prisms
are complete, might have been eight or nine inches.”
He observes, that Vesuvius does not exhibit any lavas
regularly crystallized, and forming what are called
Giants Causeways, except a lava that ran into the sea,
near Torre del Graeco, in the year 1631, which has a
small degree of such an appearance. As the fragments
of basaltes which he found on this mountain, however,
had been evidently thrown out of the crater in their
proper form, he puts the question, “ May not lavas
be more ready to crystallize within the bowels of a vol¬
cano than after their emission ? And may not many
of the Giants Causeways already discovered be the nu¬
clei of volcanic mountains, whose lighter and less solid
parts may have been worn away by the hand of time ?”
Mr Fauj as de St Fond gives an example of basalt co¬
lumns placed deep within the crater of an extinguished
volcano.
12. It is well ascertained by experience, that there
are vast beds of pyrites dispersed through the interior
parts of the earth at all depths 3 and it is also a certain
fact, that this compound substance may be decom¬
pounded by the accidental effusion of water, in such a
manner as to become hot, and at last to burn with great
fury. This accession of pyrites is by many supposed
to be the true origin of the volcanic fire 3 and an ar¬
gument for this is, that the present volcanoes do pour
forth great quantities of the component parts of py¬
rites, particularly sulphur, iron, and clay. Now, among
the superinduced substances of the county of Antrim,
and the same may probably be said of every other ba¬
saltic country, it is certain that the quantity of iron
and clay diffused through almost every species of fos¬
sil, amounts to more than one half of the whole mate¬
rial 3 so that two of the principal elements of the py¬
rites are still found there, reduced in many instances
to a slag or scoria. The third principle, viz. the sul¬
phur, cannot be expected to remain 3 because sulphur
is totally consumed by combustion 3 and what might
perhaps escape and be sublimed would no doubt have
since perished by decomposition, in consequence of be-
I 4 ing exposed to the air.
°me* I^' 7^no^ier argument, which to Sir William Ka-
PSfiiU’hemil^on appears very convincing, is, that glass some-
M of times takes on the appearance of prisms, or crystalli-
Pr*: atic zes in cooling. Fie received some specimens of this
C%1». kind from Mr Parker of Fleet-street, who informed
him that a quantity of his glass had been rendered un¬
serviceable by taking such a form. Some of these
were in laminse, which may be easily separated, and
others resemble basaltic columns in miniature, having
regular faces. “ Many of the rocks of lava in the
BAS
island of Ponza (says he) are, with respect to their Basaltes.
configurations, strikingly like the specimens of Mr *—"v— •/
Parker’s glass above mentioned 3 none being very re¬
gularly formed basaltes, but all having a tendency to¬
wards it. Mr Parker could not account for the acci¬
dent that occasioned his glass to take the basaltic form 5
but I have remarked, both in Naples and Sicily, that
such lavas as have run into the sea are either formed Lavas
into regular basaltes, or have a great tendency towards which run
such a form. The lavas of Mount iEtna, which ranIj'ave^^erT
into the sea near Jaci, are perfect basaltes 3 and a la-deney to
va that ran into the sea from Vesuvius, near Torre del run into
Graeco in 1631, has an evident tendency to the basal-basalteS’
tic form.” . ,
In opposition to these arguments it is urged, that in Arguments
many of the countries where basaltes most abound,hi opposi-
there are none of the characteristics of volcanic moun- t’°.n H1*16
tains. They assert, therefore, that the basaltes is a^e^ylc
fossil, very extensively spread over the surface of the
earth 3 and that, where it is found in the neighbour¬
hood of volcanic mountains, we ought to suppose these
to be accidentally raised on a basaltic soil rather than
to have created it. But the advocates for the volca¬
nic system are not much embarrassed with this argu-
ment. According to them, the basaltes has been Answered,
formed under the earth itself, and within the bowels
of these very mountains 3 where it could never have
been exposed to view until, by length of time or some
violent shock of nature, the incumbent mass must have
undergone a very considerable alteration, such as should
go near to destroy every exterior volcanic feature. In
support of this it may also be observed, that the pro¬
montories of Antrim do bear evident marks of some
very violent convulsion, which has left them in their
present situation 3 and that the island of Bagherry, and
some of the Western isles of Scotland, do really appear
like the surviving fragments of a country, great part
of which might have been buried in the ocean. It is
further added, that though the exterior volcanic cha¬
racter be in a great measure lost in the basaltic coun¬
tries ; yet this negative evidence can be of little weight,
when we consider, that the few instances where the
features have been preserved afford a sufficient answer
to this objection. Thus the Montague de la Coupe in
France still bears the marks of its having been former¬
ly a volcano : and this mountain is observed to stand
on a base of basaltic pillars, not disposed in the tumul¬
tuary heap into which they must have been thrown by
the furious action of a volcanic eruption, tearing up
the natural soil of the country 3 but arranged in all
the regularity of a Giant’s Causeway, such as might be
supposed to result from the crystallization of a bed of
melted lava, where rest and a gradual refrigeration con¬
tributed to render the phenomenon as perfect as pos¬
sible. 18
To these arguments stated by Mr Hamilton we shall Mr Fer-
add another from Mr Ferber : viz. That at the time arKr-'
he went from Rome to Ostia they were paving the road tjle
with a species of black lava. In some of the broken found in
pieces he observed little empty holes, of the bigness of black lava,
a walnut, incrusted all around their sides by white or
amethystine, semipellucid, pointed, or truncated pyra¬
midal crystallizations, entirely resembling the agate
nodules or geodes, which are commonly filled with
quartz crystallizations. There was no crack or fissure
in
C 439 ]
BAS
Basakes.
Mr Berg¬
man’s the¬
ory.
i°
Both fire
and water
contribute
to form ba
saltes.
21
Of the me¬
thods by
which mi¬
neral cry¬
stals are
naturally
formed.
in tlie ambient compact lava j the crystal slierls were
pretty hard, and might rather be called quarts. Some
fine brownish dust lay in the rest of the holes, as im¬
palpable and light as ashes. He tells us also, that in
the greatest part of the Paduan, Veronese, and Vicen-
tine lavas, we meet with an infinite quantity of white
polygonal sherl crystallizations, whose figure is as re¬
gular, and still more polygonal, than the basaltes.
These may be considered as the principal arguments
in favour of the volcanic theory of basaltes. On the
other hand, the late celebrated Mr Bergman expresses
himself to the following purpose.
“ Ten years ago it was a general opinion, that the
surface of the earth, together with the mountains, had
been produced by moisture. It is true that some de¬
clared fire to be the first original cause, but the greater
number paid little attention to this opinion. Now,
on the contrary, the opinion that subterraneous fire had
been the principal agent gains ground daily $ and eve¬
ry thing is supposed to have been melted, even to the
granite. It is not improbable, that both the fire and
water have contributed their share in this operation j
though in such a proportion, that the force of the for¬
mer extends much farther than the latter 5 and, on the
contrary, that the fire has only worked in some parts
of the surface of the earth. It cannot be doubted that
there has been some connection betwixt the basaltic
pillars and subterraneous fire ; as they are found in
places where the marks of fire are yet visible ; and as
they are even found mixed with lava, tophus, and
other substances produced by fire.
“ As far as we know, nature makes use of three
methods to produce regular forms in the mineral king¬
dom. I. That of crystallization or precipitation j
2. The crusting or settling of the external surface of a
liquid mass while it is cooling; and, 3. The bursting
of a moist substance while it is drying.
tc The first method is the most common ; but to all
appearance, nature has not made use of it in the pre¬
sent case. Crystals are seldom or never found in any
quantity running in the same direction ; but either in¬
clining from one another, or, what is still more com¬
mon, placed towards one another in sloping directions.
They are also generally separated a little from one ano¬
ther when they are regular. The nature of the thing
requires this, because the several particles of which the
crystals are composed must have the liberty of obeying
that power which affects their constitution. The ba¬
saltic columns, on the contrary, whose height is fre¬
quently from 30 to 40 feet, are placed parallel to one
another in considerable numbers, and so close together
that the point of a knife can hardly be introduced be¬
tween them. Besides, in most places, each pillar is
divided into several parts or joints, which seem to be
placed on one another. And indeed it is not uncom¬
mon for crystals to be formed above one another in
different layers, while the solvent has been visibly di¬
minished at different times : but then the upper cry¬
stals never fit so exactly upon one another as to pro¬
duce connected prisms of the same length or depth in
all the strata taken together ; but each stratum, sepa¬
rately taken, produces its own crystals.
Precipitation, both in the wet and dry way, re¬
quires that the particles should be free enough to ar¬
range themselves in a certain order; and as this is not
3
t 440 ]
BAS
practicable in a large melted mass, no crystallizations gas ,
appear, excepting on its surface or in its cavities. Add 1 ^
to this, that the basaltes in a fresh fracture do not show
a plain smooth surface under the microscope ; but ap¬
pear sometimes like grains of different magnitude, and
at other times resemble fine rays running in different
directions, which does not correspond with the inter¬
nal structure of crystals.
“ Hence the opinion of basaltes being formed by
crystallization either in the wet or dry method must
become less probable; but it must not be omitted, that
the spars exhibit a kind of crystallization, which at
first sight resembles a heap of basaltes, but upon a clo¬
ser examination a very great difference is to be found.
The form of the spar is everywhere alike, but the ba¬
saltes differ from one another in size and the number
of their sides. The former, when broken, consists of
many small unequal cubes ; but the basalt does not se¬
parate in regular parts, &c. &c.
“ Nature’s second method of producing regular forms
is that of crusting the outer surface of a melted mass;
By a sudden refrigeration, nature, to effect this pur¬
pose, makes use of polyhedrous and irregular forms.
If we suppose a considerable bed which is made fluid
by fire, and spread over a plain, it evidently appears,
that the surface must first of all lose the degree of heat
requisite for melting, and begin to congeal. But the
cold requisite for this purpose likewise contracts the
uppermost congealed stratum into a narrower space;
and consequently causes it to separate from the remain¬
ing liquid mass, as the side exposed to the air is alrea¬
dy too stiff to give way. In this manner a stratum is
produced, running in a parallel direction with the
whole mass ; others are still produced by the same
cause in proportion as the refrigeration penetrates deep¬
er. Hence we may very plainly see how a bed may
he divided into strata. In the same manner the refri¬
geration advances on the sides ; which consequently
divides the strata into polyhedrous pillars, which can
hardly ever be exactly square, as the strongest refrige¬
ration in the inner parts of the mass advances almost
in a diagonal line from the corners. If we add to this,
that a large mass cannot be equal through its composi¬
tion, nor evefywhere liquid in the same degree, it will
be easy to discover the cause of several irregularities.
If the depth of the bed be very considerable in propor¬
tion to its breadth, prismatic pillars without cross divi¬
sions will be formed at least lengthwise from the up¬
permost surface downwards.
“ The third way is perfectly similar to the prece¬
ding in its effect ; but it is different from it by the
mass being soaked in water, and by the bursting of it
asunder, being the effect of the contraction while it is
drying. It we suppose such a bed to be spread over a
level space, the drying advances in the same manner
as the refrigeration in the former case. This separa¬
tion into strata properly happens when a considerable
quantity of clay enters into the whole composition, be¬
cause the clay decreases more than any other kind of
earth in drying. n
“It is most probable, therefore, that the pillarsyowthe
have been produced out of the basaltic substance while basaltes
it was yet soft, or at least not too hard to be so^;ene^ ac¬
hy exhalations. If we therefore suppose a bed to be10
spread over a place where a volcano begins to work, this theory.
it
HKjdtes.
filed.
. *4
A(Kir-
w’s opi
n.i.
BAS [ 44i
it is evident that a great quantity of the water always
present on such occasions must be driven upwards in
exhalations or vapours j which, it is well known, pos¬
sess a penetrating softening power, by means of which
they produce their first effect : but when they are in¬
creased to a sufficient quantity, they force this tough
moist substance upwards: which then gradually falls,
and during this time bursts in the manner above de-
2^ scribed.
1 asonsfor “ The reasons for this supposition are as follows!
S ttheba-I* ^ 010 n.ot.^n(J the internal substance of the basaltes
steshas or vitrified j which, however, soon happens by
r) been fusi°n j _and for which only a very small degree of fire
is requisite. It is of consequence very hard to explain
how this substance could have been so fluid that no
traces of bubbles appear in it; and yet, when broken,
seem dull and uneven. Lava is seldom vitrified with¬
in j but the greater number of bubbles and pores which
are found in the whole mass, are more than sufficient
proofs, that it has not been perfectly melted to its
smallest parts, but has only been brought to be near
fluid. Secondly, the basaltes so much resemble the
finer trapp, both in their grain and original composi¬
tion, that they can hardly be distinguished in small
fragments.”
Mr Kirwan is of opinion, that the basaltes owe their
origin both to fire and water: they seem to have been
at first a lava j but this, while immersed in water, was
so diffused or dissolved in it with the assistance of heat,
as to crystallize when cold, or coalesce into regular
forms. 1 hat basaltes is not the effect of mere fusion
he concludes from comparing its form with its texture.
Its form, if produced by fusion, ought to be the effect of
having flowed very thin } but in that case its texture
should be glassy: whereas it is merely earthy and de¬
void of cavities. Hence we may understand how it
comes to pass that lava perfectly vitrified, and even
,s water, have been found enclosed in basaltes.
loud's Mr Houel, in his Voyage Pittoresque, is at consider-
7- able pains to account for the origin of the different
species of basaltes he met with in the neighbourhood
of iEtna. “ Some modern writers (says he) attribute
the configuration of the basaltes to the sudden cooling
of the lava, in consequence of the effects produced up^
on it by the coldness of sea-water, when it reaches the
sea in a state of fusion. They suppose that the shock,
which it then receives, is the cause of those different
configurations which this substance assumes j the most
remaikable of which have been already mentioned.
This assertion, however, seems to be ill founded. By
considering the basaltic rock, the first of the Cyclops
represented in the plate, we find that the pile is not in
its original state, and that the series of columns is
at present incomplete. It is very probable, that the •
species of clay found there, and which is extraneous to
the basaltes, has by some means taken possession of its
place; and it likewise appears, that not one of the ba¬
saltes here described is entire.
“ I1 seems, incredible, however, that a mass of mat¬
ter reduced by fire to a state of liquefaction, and flow¬
ing into the sea, should be suddenly changed into regu¬
lar figures by the shock of coming into contact with
cold water ; and that all the figures which are thus
formed shtould be disposed in the same manner with
regard to one another. For if we suppose that the
Vol. III. Part II. +
] BAS
water made its way into the cavity of the lava at the
instant when it retreated backwards, then might the
same quantity of water penetrate into the most remote
parts of the mass ; and by that means prolong the ca¬
vity which it had begun to form when it first entered
the mass. Ihe water then being lodged within this
burning mass, and being in a state of dilatation, would
have expelled whatever opposed it, and swelled the
whole mass in such a manner as to form much larger
interstices than those which appear between the basaltic
columns; since these are everywhere in close contact
with one another. Besides, how could the sudden cool¬
ing of the lava divide the upper part and sides of such
an enormous mass as exactly as if they had been cast in
a mould made on purpose ?
. remains also for those who adopt the hypothesis
in question to explain how the shock occasioned by tbe
cold water should make itself felt beyond a certain
depth ; since the very first moment it comes into con¬
tact with the liquid lava, it must cease to be cold ; for
the lava cannot but communicate to it a greater de¬
gree of heat than it communicates of cold in return, as
the water is more easily penetrable by the burning la¬
va than the mass of lava by the surrounding water.
But farther, if at the first moment after the lava enters
the water it were cooled and contracted, the water
would soon prevent, by tbe contraction of its whole
surface, any continuation of the effect which it had first
occasioned.
“ seems to be the great difficulty: for how is
it thus possible for the water to extend its influence to
the centre of any very considerable mass ? and even
supposing it to act at the centre, how could it be
able to fix the common centre of all the different co¬
lumns ?
“ Let us next consider what a degree of ebullition
must take place in the water when it receives such a
vast quantity of lava heated not only more intensely
than common fire, but than red-hot iron ! Though
that mass, ioo fathoms in diameter, were to proceed
from the bottom of the sea j or though it were immer-
sed in it, the degree of ebullition would still be the
same; and it is difficult to conceive what shock can be
occasioned by a cold which does not exist, on a mass
which burns, or causes to boil, whatever comes near
it.
“ One peculiarity attending the basaltes is, that it
remains fixed in the recess which it has once occupied.
Another, not less essential, is its power of dividing it¬
self in the midst of any one of its hardest parts, and to
form two distinct pieces, one of which is always con¬
cave, and the other convex ; a division which seems
the most singular curiosity of the whole.
“ A third peculiarity might still be found in the in¬
terior part of these columns, if we were to meet with
any that had suffered more by the lapse of time than
those already described $ but it is impossible for all this
to be effected by water. How can water, which is
everywhere the same, and which may be expected al¬
ways to produce the same effects, produce such a va¬
riety on basaltes by mere contact P
“ The cause of all these varieties, therefore, seems
to be this, that these lavas are originally composed of
materials extremely different in their natures, and from
which such a variety of effects naturally proceed. The
3 LI same
Basaltes.
BAS [ 442 ] BAS
Basaltes. same species of matter, when actuated by the same
—-v —' cause, will constantly produce the same effects. rlhis
variety of effects therefore is much less owing to the
influence of the water, than to the variety of materi¬
als of which those lavas are composed^ and these are
combined in different forms and quantities, according
to the nature and quantity of the various materials
which have been reduced by the volcano to a state of
fusion.
“ The form of the basaltes therefore proceeds from
two causes. One of them, viz. the cooling, belongs
indifferently to every species, independent of its meet¬
ing with water. The other is the diversity of the quan¬
tities and of the materials of which the lava is compo¬
sed. From these causes alone proceed all the beauties
and varieties which are beheld with admiration in this
class of bodies. These take place, from the most irre¬
gular fractures in the lava, to those which display the
greatest exactness and symmetry. Every new erupted
lava diflers from those which preceded it, and from
those which will follow. In the various principles of
these lavas we must seek for the causes of those cavities
discoverable in the basaltes, and for the causes which
produce those basaltes, at the time when the matter of
which it is composed contracted itself, and consolidat¬
ed all its parts. In the act of condensation, it ap¬
pears to have formed various foci, around which we
may distinguish the line which sets bounds to the power
of each of them 5 and this is the line which marks
the spaces intervening between the different pieces :
because all of them are possessed of the same attractive
force. The first emitted by the lava, at the time the
basaltes is formed, produces upon it the same effect
that is produced by the evaporation of the aqueous
moisture from those bodies where water forms a part
of the original constitution j which bodies harden in
proportion as they become dry, by reason of the ap¬
proach of their constituent parts to one another. The
abstraction ol fire produces the same effect upon ba¬
saltes, by suffering its component parts to come into
closer union.
“ A new proof of this theory is deducible from the
form of the basaltes represented Plate LXXXVII.
fig. 2. I he insterstices there are pretty numerous j be¬
cause the lava being oi that species denominated dirty,
and consisting of parts, most of which have but little
solidity, they have left much larger spaces between
them at their contraction. From this want of solidity
we may perceive how much the basaltic mass lost of
the. fire by which it was dilated while in a state of
fusion.
“ The void spaces left by the contraction of the bu-
saltes, are filled with a spongy matter, which by dry¬
ing has a.so itit large interstices and these have been
filled in their turn with a kind ol yellow matter si¬
milar to that which covers the promontory of Castel
d’laci.
“ Whatever variety of forms we meet with among
the bf\saltes, and whatever divisions and subdivisions
may be observable among these varieties, they are
owing, 1. io the minuteness $ 2. To the homogeneous
nature ; or, 3. To the diversity among the particles
which compose the basakes. Among the varieties al¬
ready enumerated, we find reddish, earthy, soft and
porous substances, together with the zeolite crystals.
2
We see others extremely hard and compact, very finely yai>ajt6s
grained, and containing likewise schoerl and zeolite cry¬
stals. Others are very hard and dense, wich appear Base,
to be a mixture of small gray and white bodies j and of'""“V—
each of these colours many different shades, from light
to darker, containing also zeolite crystals. Lastly, we
find some consisting of a matter similar to clay, mixed
with round black sand.
“ It may be objected, that the late eruptions of
./Etna atlord no basaltes, nor have they any divisions
similar to those above mentioned. But to this we may
reply, that if they afford neither such basaltes, nor
such regular divisions, the reason is, that neither their
quantity, nor the ingredients of which they are com¬
posed, are such as are necessary for the production of
basaltes : and for a proof of this we may refer to lavas
of the most remote antiquity, which have no more re¬
semblance to basaltes than those that are more mo¬
dern.
“ Lastly, an argument, to which no plausible reply
can be made, that the basaltes are not tormed by sea¬
water, is, that in the year 1669, the lava of Mount
/Etna ran into the sea for two leagues and a half, with¬
out having the least appearance of being converted into
basaltes.,r
BASAN, or Bashan, in Ancient Geography, a ter¬
ritory beyond Jordan, mentioned in Scripture. By
Josephus, Eusebius, and Jerome, it is called Bataneea.
On the entering of the Israelites into the land of Ca¬
naan, the whole of the country beyond Jordan, from
that ol the Moabites, or Arabia, as far as Mount Fier-
mon and Lebanon, was divided into two kingdoms,
viz. that of Sihon king of the Amorites, and of Og
king of Basan or Bashan ; the former to the south, and
the latter to the north. The kingdom of Sihon ex¬
tended from the river Arnon and the country ot Moab,
to the river Jabbok j which running in an oblique
course from the east, was at the same lime the boundary
ol the Ammonites, as appears from Numb. xxi. 24. and
Lent. ii. 37. and iii. 16. The kingdom of Sihon fell to
the lot of the ileubenites and Gadites, and Basan to the
half-tribe of Manasseh. To this was annexed a part of
the hilly country of Gilead, and the district of Argob ,
yet so that Basan continued to be the principal and
greatest part: but, after the Babylonish captivity, Ba¬
san was subdivided j so that only a part was called Ba-
tanea or Basan, another Trachonitis, a third Auranitis
or 1 tune a, and some part also Gaulonitis; but to settle
the limits ol each ol these parts is a thing now impossi¬
ble.—Bashan was a country famous for its pastures and
breed of large cattle.
BASABTSCHIK, a considerable town of Romania,
in lurkey in Europe. It is pretty well built, and hath
clean and broad streets , has a great trade j and is situ¬
ated on the river Meritz, in E. Long. 24. 30. N. Lat.
41. 49.
BASARUCO, in commerce, a small base coin in
the East Indies, being made only of very bad tin.
ihere are, however, two sorts of this coin, a good
and a bad} the bad is one-sixth in value lower than the
good.
BASE, in Geometry, the lowest side of the perime¬
ter oi a figure : Thus, the base of the triangle may be
said ot any of its sides, but more properly of the lowest,
or that which is parallel to the horizon. In rectang-
Itd
BASALTES
PLATE LSJXVI.
Pl(/. J .
BAS
Base M triangles, the base is properly that side opposite to
|| the right angle.
dsliaw. Base of a Solid Figure, the lowest side, or that on
which it stands.
Base of a Come Section, a right line in the hyper¬
bola and parabola, arising from the common intersec¬
tion of the secant plane and the base of the cone.
Base, in Architecture, is used for any body which
bears another, but particularly for the lower part of a
column and pedestal.—-The ancients, in the early times
of architecture, used no bases. The Doric columns
in the temple of Minerva at Athens have none, but
stand immediately upon the floor of the porch. Co¬
lumns came afterwards to be supported on square pieces
called plinths, and after that on pedestals. When we
see a column, of whatsoever order, on a pedestal, the
base is that part which comes between the top of the
pedestal, and the bottom of the shaft of the column ;
when there is no pedestal, it is the part between the
bottom of the column and the plinth : some have in¬
cluded the plinth as a part .of the base ; but it is pro¬
perly the piece on which the base stands, as the column
stands upon that.—The pedestal also has its base, as well
as the column, and the pilaster. The base of columns
is differently formed in the different orders; but in ge¬
neral it is composed of certain spires or circles, and
was thence in early times called the spire of a column.
These cirdes were in this case supposed to represent the
folds of a snake as it lies rolled up ; but they are pro¬
perly the representations of several larger and smaller
rings or circles of iron, with which the trunks of trees,
which were the ancient columns, were surrounded to
prevent their bursting : these were rude and irregular,
but the sculptor who imitated them in stone found the
way to make them elegant.
Base, in Fortification, the exterior side of the po¬
lygon, or that imaginary line which is drawn from the
flanked angle of a bastion to the angle opposite to it.
Base, in Gunnery, the least sort of ordnance, the
diameter of whose bore isT^ inch, weight 200 pounds,
length 4 feet, load 5 pounds, shot i^- pound weight,
and diameter l-|- inch.
Base, in Chemistry. See Basis.
Base, in Law. Base estate, such as base tenants
have in their hands. Base tenure, the holding by ville-
nage, or other customary services 5 as distinguished
from the higher tenures in capite, or by military ser¬
vice. Base fee, is to hold in fee at the will of the lord,
as distinguished from soccage tenure. Base court, any
court not of record.
BASEDOW, John Bernard, a celebrated Ger¬
man writer upon ethics and religion. See Supplement.
BASELLA, Climbing Nightshade. See Bo¬
tany Index.
BASEMENT, in Architecture. See Architec¬
ture.
BASHARIANS, a sect of Mahometans, being a
branch or subdivision of the Motazalites. The Basha-
rians are those who maintain the tenets of Bashar Ebn
Motamer, a principal man among the Motazalites, who
varied, in some points, from the general tenets of the
sect, as carrying man’s free agency to a great length,
and even to the making him independent.
BASHAW, a Turkish governor of a province, city,
or other district.
BAS
A bashaw is made with the solemnity of carrying a Bashaw,
flag or banner before him, accompanied with music and Basil,
songs, by the mirialem, an officer on purpose for the in- v~ '
vestiture of bashaws. Bashaw, used absolutely, denotes
the prime vizier j the rest of the denomination being di¬
stinguished by the addition of the province, city, or the
like, which they have the command of; as the bashaw
of Egypt, of Palestine, &c. The bashaws are the em¬
peror’s sponges. We find loud complaints among Chri¬
stians of their avarice and extortion. As they buy
their governments, every thing is venal with them.
Ihey live in their governments in a style of princely-
splendour and profusion. When glutted with wealth,
the emperor frequently makes them a present of a bow¬
string, and becomes heir to all their spoils.
BASIL, St, the Great, one of the most learned
and eloquent doctors of the church, was born at Cse-
sarea, in Cappadocia, about the year 3285 and went
to finish his studies at Athens, where he contracted a
strict friendship with St Gregory Nazianzen. He re¬
turned to his native country in 355, where he taught
rhetoric. Some time after, he travelled into Syria, E-
gypt, and Libya, to visit the monasteries of these coun¬
tries j and the monastic life so much suited his dispo¬
sition, that upon his return home he resolved to follow
it, and he was the first institutor thereof in Pontus and
Cappadocia. His reputation became so great, that,
upon the death of Eusebius bishop of Caesarea, in 370,
he was chosen his successor. It was with some diffi¬
culty that he accepted of this dignity ; and no sooner
was he raised to it, than the emperor Valens began to
persecute him because he refused to embrace the doc¬
trine of the Arians. Being at length let alone, he be¬
gan to use bis utmost endeavours to bring about a re¬
union betwixt the eastern and western churches, who
were then much divided about some points of faith, and
in regard to Meletius and Paulinus two bishops of An-
tiochia. But all his efforts were ineffectual, this dis¬
pute not being terminated till nine months after his
death. Basil had a share in all the disputes which hap¬
pened in his time in the east in regard to the doctrine
of the church j and died the first of January, 379.—
T-here have been several editions of his works in Greek
and Latin. The best is that of Father Gamier, print¬
ed in Greek and Latin, in three volumes folio. St Ba¬
sil’s style is pure and elegant, his expressions are grand
and sublime, and his thoughts noble and full of majesty.
Erasmus places him among the greatest orators of anti¬
quity.
Basil, a canton of Switzerland, which joined the
confederacy in 1501. It is bounded on the south by
the canton of Solothurn ; on the north by part of the
margravate of Baden Dourlacb, and the territory of
Rheinfeldenj on the east by Frickthal; and on the west
by part of Solothurn, the diocese of Basil, and the
Sundgare ; being upwards of 20 miles in length, and
about 18 in breadth. It contains 270 square English
miles, and had a population of 49,200 in 181 It is
entirely Protestant. The lower parts of it afford corn
and wine, and pasture j but the mountains are barren.
Here are many medicinal springs and baths, and the air
is wholesome and temperate. Both men and women for
the most part wear the French dress ; but the language
commonly spoken is the High Dutch, though the
French is also much used. The government is aristo-
3 K 2 cratical j
r 443 ]
BAS [ 444 ] BAS
J5a\il. cratical; and its revenues arise chiefly from seculariz-
ed abbeys, and imposts on goods carried through the
country, to and from France, Italy, and Germany.
Besides the military establishment of the city of Basil,
\ there are two provincial regiments, consisting each of
ten companies, and a troop of dragoons.—The places
of most note are Basil the capita], Wallenburg, St Ja¬
cob, Neue-Haus, &c.
Basil, the capital of the canton of that name, is
the largest city in all Switzerland, and contains about
15,000 inhabitants. Its environs are exceedingly beau¬
tiful, consisting of a fine level tract of fields and mea¬
dows. The city is divided into two parts by the Rhine,
over which there is a handsome bridge. It is thought
by some to have risen on the ruins of the old Augusta
Rauracorum. For its name of Basilia it is indebted
to Julian the Apostate, who would have it so called in
honour of his mother Basilina. It is fortified with
walls, moats, towers, and bastions, and contains several
churches, besides the cathedral, which is an old Gothic
structure ; a commandery of the order of St John, and
another ol the Teutonic order j a public granary and
arsenal ; a stately townhouse, in which is an exquisite
piece of the sufferings of Christ, by Holbein, and a
statue ol Alunatius Plancus, a Roman general, who
about 50 years before Christ, built the ancient city of
Augusta Rauracorum j an university which was found-
ed in 1459’ anc^ ^las a curious physic-garden, library,
and museum ; a gymnasium j a stately palace, belong¬
ing to the margrave ol Baden-Hourlach ; besides a
chain her of curiosities, several hospitals, &c. In the
arsenal is shown the armour in which Charles the Bald
lost his life, with the furniture of his horse, and the
kettle-drums and trumpets of his army. On the stair¬
case ot the council house, is a picture of the last judge¬
ment, in which, though drawn before the Reformation,
popes, cardinals, monks, and priests, are represented
in the torments of hell. Over-against the French
church, on a long covered wall, is painted the dance
ol death 5 where the king of terrors is represented as
mixing with all ranks and ages, and complimenting
them, in German verses, on their arrival at the grave.
St I eter’s square, planted with elm and lime trees,
makes a pleasant walk j but a spot regularly planted
with trees, close by the river, and near the minster,
makes still a finer, as commanding a most beautiful
and extensive prospect. The celebrated Erasmus died
heie in 1556, in the ^Oth year of his age, and was
buried the great church. He left his library and
cabinet ol rarities to one Amberbach, a learned lawyer
ot this city, ol whose heirs they were purchased by the
university. Besides this cabinet, there are several
other curious private ones. The clocks of this city go
an hour faster than elsewhere, except at Constance ; a
circumstance which some ascribe to the famous coun¬
cils held there, when it was thought the best expedient
to bring the fathers early to the assembly, for the
quicker despatch ot business 5 but others say, that, in
Basil, it was owing to an assault being defeated by that
means. About 400 years ago, according to the story,
the city was threatened with an assault by surprise.
The enemy was to begin the attack when the 1 arge
clock of the tower at one end of the bridge should
strike one after midnight. The artist who had the
care of the clock, being informed that this was the ex- j,( j
pected signal, caused the clock to he altered, and it ||
struck two instead of one; so the enemy, thinking thev Basilian.
were an hour too late, gave up the attempt : and in ' v—
commemoration of this deliverance, all the clocks in
Basil have ever since struck two at one o’clock, and
so on. But this practice is said now to be abolished.
They show, by way of confirmation, a head, which is
placed near to this patriotic clock, with the face turn¬
ed to the road by which the enemy was to have enter¬
ed. This same head lolls out its tongue every minute,
in the most insulting manner possible. This was ori¬
ginally a piece of mechanical wit of the famous clock-
maker’s who saved the town. He framed it in de¬
rision of the enemy, whom he had so dexterously de¬
ceived. It has been repaired, renewed, and enabled
to thrust out its tongue every minute for these four
hundred years, by the care of the magistrates, who
think so excellent a joke cannot be too often repeated.
Trade still flourishes here, especially in silk, ribbons,
and wines ; and the police is under excellent regula¬
tions. Most of the offices are bestowed by lot among
well qualified persons. No person, without the city,
must wear lace of gold or silver. All young women
are prohibited from wearing silks; and the nearest re¬
lations only are to he invited to a marriage-feast. For
the government of the city there are several councils
or colleges, and officers. Of the last, the two burgo¬
masters, and two wardens of trades, are the chief. The
great council is composed of the representatives of the
several companies of the greater and lesser city. Basil
was the see of a bishop till the Reformation ; but though
there is one that still hears the title, he has now no
jurisdiction here, and lives at Porentru, near the Up¬
per Alsace. The two Buxtorffs, father and son, and
the famous painter Plolbein, were natives of this place.
The council held here, in 1431, sat in the vestry of the
cathedral.
Basil. See Ocymum, Botany Index.
Basil, among joiners, the sloping edge of a chisse!,
or of the iron of a plane, to work on soft wood : they
usually make the basil 12 degrees, and for hard wood.
18 ; it being remarked, that the more acute the basil
is, the better the instrument cuts ; and the more obtuse,
the stronger, and fitter it is for service.
BASILEUS, fictmtevs) a title assumed by the em¬
perors of Constantinople, exclusive of all other princes,
to whom they give the title 7'ex, “ king.” The same
quality was afterwards given by them to the kings of
Bulgaria, and to Charlemagne, from the successors oft
which last they endeavoured to wrest it back again.
Ilie title basileus has been since assumed by other
kings, particularly the kings of England, Ego Edgar
totius Anglice basileus covjirmavi. Hence also the
queen of England was entitled Basilea and Basilissa.
BASILIAN monks ; religious of the order of St
Basil. That saint, having retired into a desert, in the
province of Pontus, founded a monastery for the con¬
venience of himself and his numerous followers : and
for the belter regulation 6f this new societj’, he drew
up in writing the orders and rules he would have them
follow. This new order soon spread all over th&east;
nor was it long before it passed into the west. The rule
ol St Basil was approved by Pope Liberius, the same
year>
3
r
B A s [ 445 ] BAS
iasilian, year m Avlucli it was written anrl published j and after-
basilic. wards by several other popes; and, in these last ages,
by Pope Gregory XIIL who approved the abridge¬
ment made of it by Cardinal Bessarion, in the pontifi¬
cate of Eugenius IV.—Some authors pretend, that St
Basil, before he died, saw himself the spiritual father
of more than 90,000 monks, in the eas't only. But
this order, which flourished so greatly for more than
three centuries, was afterwards considerably diminished
by heresy, schism, and a change of empire. The
greatest storm it felt, was in the reign of Constantine
Copronymus; who persecuted the monks of St Basil,
imprisoning some, and banishing others ; insomuch that
the monasteries were abandoned and spoiled of all their
goods.
The historians of this order tell us, that it has pro¬
duced 1805 bishops 5 and beatified, or acknowledged
as saints, 3010 abbots, 11,805 martyrs, and an infinite
number of confessors and virgins. They likewise place
among the religious of the order of St Basil 14 popes,
some cardinals, and a very great number of patri¬
archs, archbishop0, and bishops. This order likewise
boasts of several emperors and empresses, kings and
queens, princes and princesses, who have embraced its
rule.
This order was introduced in the west in 10^7$ and
was reformed in 1569, by Pope Gregory XIII. who
united the religious of this order in Italy, Spain, and
Sicily, into one congregation ; of which the monastery
of St Sa viour at Messina is the chief, and enjoys pre¬
eminence over the rest. Each community has its par¬
ticular rule, besides the rule of St Basil, which is very
general, and prescribes little more than the common
duties of a Christian life.
BASILIC, or Basilica, in the ancient architecture,
denotes a kind of public hall or court of judicature,
where the princes or magistratessat toadminister justice.
The word is originally Greek, j&ccnXwn, q- d. royal house,
palace.
The basilics consisted of a great ball, with ailes,
porticoes, tribunes, and tribunals. The bankers too
had one part of the basilica allotted for their residence.
The scholars also went thither to make their declama¬
tions, according to the testimony of Quintilian. In
after-times the denomination basilica was also given to
other buildings of public use, as town-houses, exchanges,
burses, and the like. The Roman basilicce were cover¬
ed, by which they were distinguished from the fora,
which were public places open to the air. The first
basilica was built at Rome by Cato the elder, whence
it was called Porcia ; the second was called Opimia;
the third was that of Paulns, built with a great ex¬
pence, and with much magnificence, whence it was'call¬
ed by some regia Pauli; another was built by Julius
Caesar, called basilica Julia ; of which Vitruvius tells us
he had the direction. There were others also, to the
number of eighteen or twenty. The basilica Julia not
only served for the hearing of causes, hut for the re¬
ception and audience of foreign ambassadors. It was
supported by a hundred marble pillars in four rows, and
enriched with decorations of gold and precious stones,
lu it were 13 tribunals or judgment-seats, where the
praetors sat to despatch causes.
Basilic is also used, in ecclesiastical writers, for a
church. In which sense, the name frequently occurs Basilic
in St Ambrose, St Austin, St Jerome, Sidonius Apol- [j
linari°, and other writers of the fourth and fifth cen- Basilicata*
turies. It is thought that the name was thus applied, *'
irom many of the ancient churches having been formed
o{ the Roman halls mentioned in the preceding article.
In reality, on the conversion of Constantine, many of
the ancient basilicce were given to the church, and
turned to another use, viz. for Christian assemblies to
meet in, as may be collected from that passage of Auso-
nius, where speaking to the emperor Gratian, he tells
him, the basilicce, which heretofore were wont to be
filled with men of business, were now thronged with
votaries praying for bis safety. By which be must needs
mean, that the Roman halls or courts were turned into
Christian churches : and hence, wre conceive, the name
basilicce came to be a general name for churches in after
ages.
Basilic is chiefly applied, in modern times, to
churches of royal foundation ; as those of St John de
Lateran, and St Peter of the Vatican at Rome, founded
by the emperor Constantine.
Basilics were also little chapels built by the ancient
I ranks over the tombs of their great men, so called,
as resembling the figure of the sacred basilicce, or church¬
es. Persons of inferior condition had only tiimbce or
poi'ticuli erected over them. By an article in the Sa¬
lic law, he that robbed a tumba or porticulus, was to be
fined fifteen sohdi; but he that robbed a basilica, thirty
solidi.
Basilics, in literary history, a name supposed to
have been given by the emperor Leo to a collection of
laws in honour of bis father Basilius Macedo, who be¬
gan it in the year 867, and in the execution chiefly
made use of Sabbathius Protospatharins, who carried
the work as far as 40 books. Leo added 20 books
more, and published the work in 880. The whole, 30
years alter, was corrected and improved by Constan¬
tine Porphyrogenitus, son of Leo j whence many have
held him the author of the Basilica. Six books of the
Basilica were translated into Latin in 1557, by Gentian
Hervetus. An edition of the Greek Basilics, with a
Latin version, has been since published at Paris, in
1647, hY Annib- Fabrottus, in 7 volumes. There are
still wanting 19 books, which are supposed to be lost.
Fahrottus has endeavoured to supply in some measure
the defect from the synopsis of the Basilica, and the
glosses ; of which several had been made under the sue- %
ceeding emperors, and contained the whole Justinian
law, excepting the superfluities, in a new and more con¬
sistent order, together with the later constitutions of
the emperors posterior to Justinian.
BASILICA, In Anatomy, the interior branch of
the axillary vein, running the whole length of the
arm.
BASILICATA, a territory of Italy, bounded on
the north by the Otranto, Bari, and Capitanata 5 on
the west by the Principato, and a small part of the
Tuscan sea 3 on the south by Calabria ; and on the east
by the gulf of Taranto. It is watered by several ri¬
vers : but as it is almost all occupied by the Apennine
mountains, it is neither very populous nor fertile ; how¬
ever it produces enough to maintain its inhabitants,
and has a small quantity of cotton. The principal
towns ..
BAS [ 446 ] BAS
Basilicata towns are Cirenza the capital, Mesx, Tursi, Rapollo,
II M tiro, Lavello, Tracarico, Monte Pelose, and Veneso,
Basilisk. are a|| episcopal sees.
v BASILIC!, a denomination given in the Greek em¬
pire to those who carried the emperor’s orders and com¬
mands.
BASILICON, in Pharmacy, a name given to se¬
veral compositions to be found in ancient medicinal
writers. At present it is confined to three officinal
ointments, distinguished by the epithets black, yellow,
and green. See PHARMACY.
BASILIDIANS, ancient heretics, the followers ol
Basilides, an Egyptian, who lived near the beginning
of the second century. He was eelucated in the Gno¬
stic school, over which Simon Magus presided ; with
whom he agreed that Christ was a man in appearance,
that his body was a phantom, and that he gave his
form to Simon the Cyrenian, who was crucified in his
stead. We learn from Eusebius, that this heresiarch
wrote 24 books upon the gospel, and that he forged
several prophets ; to two of which he gave the names
Purcaba and Barcoph. We have still the fragment of
a Basilidian gospel. His disciples supposed there were
particular virtues in names : and taught with Pytha¬
goras and Plato, that names were not formed by chance,
but naturally signified something.—Basilides, to imi¬
tate Pythagoras, made his disciples keep silence for five
years. /
In general, the Basilidians held much the same opi¬
nions with the Valentinians, another branch of the
Gnostic family. They asserted, that all the actions of
men are necessary j that faith is a natural gift, to which
men are forcibly determined, and should therefore be
saved though their lives were ever so irregular. Irenaeus
and others assure us, they acted consistently with their
principles; committing all manner of villanies and im¬
purities, in confidence of their natural election. They
had a particular hierarchy of divine persons, or iEons.
Under the name Abraxas, they are said to have wor¬
shipped the supreme God, from whom as a principle, all
other things proceeded. There are several gems still
subsisting, inscribed with the Abraxas, which were
used by the Basilidians as amulets against diseases and
evil spirits. See Abrasax and Abraxas.
BASFLIPPUM, in Ancient Gcographi/, a town of
Laetica in Spain; now Canti/lana, a citadel of Andalusia,
above Seville, on the Guadalquivir.
BASILISCUS, in Zoology, the trivial name of a
species of lacerta. See Lacerta, Erpetology In¬
dex.
BASILISK, a fabulous kind of serpent, said to kill
by its breath or sight only. Galen says, that it is of
a colour inclining to yellow; and that' it has three little
eminences upon its head, speckled with whitish spots,
which have the appearance of a sort of crown. iElian
says, that its poison is so penetrating, as to kill the
largest serpents with its vapour only; and that if it but
bite the end of any man’s stick, it kills him. It drives
away all other serpents by the noise of its hissing.
Pliny says, it kills those who look upon it.— The gene¬
ration of the basilisk is not less marvellous, being said
to be produced from a cock’s egg, brooded on by a
serpent. These, and other things equally ridiculous,
are related by Matthiolus, Galen, Dioscorides, Pliny,
and Lrasistratus. Plirchmayer and Vander Wiel have
given the history of the basilisk, and detected the folly B
and imposture of the traditions concerning it.—In some |j
apothecaries shops there are little dead serpents shown, Basis,
which are said to be basilisks. But these seem rather ~
to be a kind of small bird, almost like a cock, but w ith¬
out feathers : its head is lofty, its wings are almost like
a bat’s, its eyes large, and its neck is very short. As
to those which are shown and sold at Venice, and in
other places, they are nothing but little thornbacks ar¬
tificially put into a form like that ef a young cock, by
stretching out their fins, and contriving them with a
little head and hollow eyes ; and this, Calmet says, he
has in reality observed in a supposed basilisk, at an apo¬
thecary’s shop at Paris, and in another at the Jesuits of
Pont-a Mousson.
Basilisk, in military affairs, a large piece of ord¬
nance, thus denominated from its resemblance to the
supposed serpent of that name. The basilisk throws
an iron ball of 200 pounds weight. It was much talked
of in the time of Solyman emperor of the Turks, in
the wars of Hungary ; but seems now out of use. Pau-
lus Jovius relates the terrible slaughter made by a single
ball from one of these basilisks in a Spanish ship; after
penetrating the boards and planks in the ship’s head, it
killed above 30 men. Maffeus speaks of basilisks made
of brass, which were drawn each by ico yoke of oxen.
—Modern writers also give the name basilisk to a much
smaller and sizeable piece of ordnance, which the Dutch
make 15 feet long, and the French only 10. It can’ies
48 pounds.
BASILIUS, surnamed the Macedonian, emperor
of the Greeks. Pie was a common soldier, and of an
obscure family in Macedonia, and yet raised himself to
the throne: for having pleased the emperor Michael by
his address in the management of his horses, he became
his first equerry, and then his great chamberlain. He
at length assassinated the famous Bardas, and was as¬
sociated to the empire in 849. He held the eighth ge¬
neral council at Constantinople; deposed the patriarch
Photius, but in 858 restored him to the patriarchate ;
and declared against the popes, who refused to admit
him into their communion. He was dreaded by his
enemies the Saracens, whom he frequently vanquished ;
and loved by his subjects, for his justice and clemency.
He died in 886. Under his reign the Russians em¬
braced Christianity, and the doctrine of the Greek
church. He ought not to be confounded with Basilius
the Younger, who succeeded Zemisces in 975, and after
a reign of yo years died in 1025.
BASINGSTOKE, a corporation town of Hampshire
in England, and a great thoroughfare on the western
road. It is seated on a small brook, and had 2656 in¬
habitants in 1 811. W. Long. I. 10. N. Lat. 51. 20.
BASIOGLOSSUS, a muscle arising from the base
of the os hyoides. See Anatomy, Table of the Mus¬
cles.
BASIS, or Base, in Geometry. See Base.
Basis, or Base, in Chemistry. Any body which is
dissolved by another body, which it receives and fixes,
and with which it forms a compound, may be called
the basis of that compound. Thus, for example, the
basis of neutral salts are the alkaline, earthy, and me¬
tallic matters which are saturated by the several acids,
and form with them these neutral salts. In this sense
it is that these neutral salts are called salts with earthy
bases.
Basis
Jacket-
BAS [447
bases, sails with alkaline bases, salts with metallic bases;
also the appellations basis of alum, basis of nitre, basis of
Glauber's salt, basis of vitriol, &c. signify the argilla¬
ceous earth, which, with the sulphuric acid, forms alum j
the vegetable alkali, which, w'ith the nitric acid, forms
nitre j the mineral alkali, which with the sulphuric
acid, forms Glauber’s salts j and the metal, which with
the sulphuric acid, forms a sulphate 5 because these sub¬
stances are supposed to be fixed, unactive, and only
yielding to the action of the acids, which they fix, and
to which they give a body and consistence.
Basis, among physicians, denotes the principal in¬
gredients in compound medicines.
]
BAS
A basket I, by painted Britons wrought,
And now to Rome’s imperial city brought.
See Basket-making, Supplement.
Baskets, of Earth, in the military art, in French
corbeillers, are placed on the parapet of a trench, filled
with earth. They are about a foot and a half high,
about a foot and a half in diameter at the top, and 8 or
ten inches at bottom; so that, being set together, there
is a sort of embrasures left at their bottoms, through
which the soldiers fire, without exposing themselves.
BASKET-Fish, a species of sea-star. See Aste-
Bnsket
II
Basoage.
BASKERVILLE, John, an eminent artist, espe¬
cially in letter-founding and printing, of the 18th
century. Fie was born in 1706 at Woverley in Wor¬
cestershire, and was heir to an estate of about 60I.
ay ear; the whole of which income he allowed to his
parents till their deaths. In his early years he con¬
ceived a love for fine writing and cutting in stone 5
and being brought up to no particular profession, he
commenced writing-master in Birmingham when about
20 years of age. The improvements in different ma¬
nufactures there soon drew his attention, and he ap¬
plied to the japan business, which he carried on for a
long time with distinguished excellence and success.
In 1750 he applied himself to letter-founding, the
bringing of which to perfection cost him much labour
and expence. In a few years he proceeded to print¬
ing: and his first work was an edition of Virgil in
royal quarto, which now sells for three guineas. In
a short time he obtained leave from the university of
Cambridge to print a Bible in royal folio, and edi¬
tions ol the Common Prayer in three sizes : for which
he paid a large sum to the university. He afterwards
printed Horace, Terence, Catullus, Lucretius, Juve¬
nal, Sallust, and Florus, in royal quarto ; Virgil in
octavo j and several hooks in duodecimo. He publish¬
ed likewise some of the English classics. The best tes¬
timonies of the merit of these performances are them¬
selves; and Mr Baskerville’s name is deservedly rank¬
ed among those who, in modern times, have brought
the art of printing to its greatest perfection. Not
meeting, however, with that encouragement from the
booksellers which he expected, he set up his letter-
foundery for sale a little before his death. He died
without issue in July 1776.
BASKET, an utensil made of twigs interwoven to¬
gether, in order to hold fruit, earth, &c. As a mea¬
sure, it denotes an uncertain quantity ; as, a basket of
medlars is two bushels, of asafoetida from 20 to 5:0
pounds weight. The ancient Britons were noted for
their ingenuity in making baskets, which they export¬
ed in large quantities. These baskets were of very
elegant workmanship, and bore a high price; and are
mentioned by Juvenal among the extravagant expensive
furniture of the Roman tables in his time.
Adde et bascaudas et mille escaria.
Add baskets, and a thousand other dishes.
That these baskets were manufactured in Britain, we
learn from the following epigram of Martial:
- Barbara de pictis veni bascauda Britannis,
Sed me jam mavult dicere Roma suam.
rias.
BASKET-Salt, that made from salt-springs; being
purer, whiter, and composed of finer grains than the
common brine-salt. See Salt.
B ASKING-shark, or SuN-Fish of the Irish. See
SflUALUS.
BASNAGE, James, a learned and accomplished
author, and pastor of the Walloon church at the
Hague, was born at Rouen in Normandy, August 8.
i653* was the son of Flenry Basnage, one of the
ablest advocates in the parliament of Normandy. At
17 years of age, after he had made himself master of
the Greek and Latin authors, as well as the English,
Spanish and Italian languages, he went to Geneva,
where he began his divinity studies under Mestrezat,
Turretin, and Tronchin ; and finished them at Sedan,
under the professors Jurieu and Le Blanc de Beaulieu.
He-then returned to Rouen, where he was received as
minister, September 1676 ; in which capacity he re¬
mained till the year 1685, when the exercise of the
Protestant religion being suppressed at Rouen, he ob¬
tained leave of the king to retire to Holland. He
settled at Rotterdam, and was a minister pensionary
there till 1691, when he was chosen pastor of the Wal¬
loon church of that city. In 1709 Pensionary Hein-
sius got him chosen one of the pastors of the Walloon
church at the Hague, intending not only to employ
him in religious but in state affairs. He was employed-
in a secret negociatron with Marshal d’Uxelles, plenipo¬
tentiary of France at the congress of Utrecht; and he
executed it with so much success, that he was after¬
wards entrusted with several important commissions, all
which he discharged in such a manner as to gain a
great character for his abilities and address ; a cele¬
brated modern writer has therefore said of him, that he
was fitter to be minister of state than of a parish. The
Abbe du Bois, who was at the Hague in 1716, as am¬
bassador plenipotentiary from his most Christian maje¬
sty, to negociate a defensive alliance between France,
England, and the States General, was ordered by the
duke or Orleans* regent of France, to apply himself
to M. Basnage, and to follow his advice; they accord¬
ingly acted in concert, and the alliance was concluded
in January I’Ji'J. Fie kept an epistolary correspon¬
dence with several princes, noblemen of high rank, and
ministers of state, both Catholic and Protestant, and
with a great many learned men in France, Italy, Ger¬
many, and England. The Catholics esteemed him no
less than the Protestants ; and the works he wrote,
which are mostly in French, spread his reputation al¬
most all over Europe : among these are, 1. The Histo¬
ry of the religion of the Reformed Churches. 2. Jew¬
ish Antiquities. 3. The History of the Old and New
Testament;
BAS [ 448 ] BAS
Bass.
Basil age Testament j and many others. He died September 22.
I723-
Basnage, Henry, Sieur de Beauval, second son to
Henry Basnage, and brother to James mentioned in the
last article. He applied himself to the study of the
law, and was admitted advocate in the parliament of
Bouen in the year 1679. He did not follow the bar
immediately upon his admission ; but went to Valencia,
where he studied under M. de Marville. Upon his re¬
turn from thence, he practised with great reputation
till the year 1687, when the revocation of the edict of
Nantz obliged him to fly to Holland, where he com¬
posed the greatest part of his works, and died there
the 29th of March 1710. His chief work is Hisloire
des Ouvrages des Sfavans. Rotterd. 24 vol. in duode¬
cimo. This work was begun in the month of Septem¬
ber 1687, and continued till June 1709. When he ar¬
rived in Holland, MrBayle, through indisposition, had
been obliged to drop his Native lies de la Bepubliqtie des
Lettres, which induced Mr Basnage to undertake a
work of the same kind under a different title.
BASON, in Hydraulics, a reservoir of water, used
for various purposes : thus we say, The bason of a jet
d'eau, the bason of a fountain, and likewise the bason
(f a port or harbour.
Bason, in Jewish antiquities, the laver of the taber¬
nacle, made of the brass looking-glasses belonging to
those devout women who watched and stood centinels
at the door of the tabernacle.
Bason, or Dish, among glass-grinders. These ar¬
tificers use various kinds of basons, of copper, iron,
&c. and of various forms, some deeper, others shal¬
lower, according to the focus of the glasses that are to
be ground. In these basons it is that convex glasses
are formed, as concave ones are formed on spheres ox*
bowls.
Glasses are worked in basons two ways. In the
first, the bason is fitted to the arbor or tree of a lathe,
and the glass (fixed with cement to a handle of wood)
-presented and held fast in the right hand within the
bason, while the proper motion is given by the foot
to the bason. In the other, the bason is fixed to a
stand or block, and the glass with its wooden handle
moved. The moveable basons are very small, seldom
exceeding five or six inches in diameter 5 the others are
larger, sometimes above ten feet diameter. After the
glass has been ground in the bason, it is brought smooth¬
er with grease and emery *, and polished first with tri-
poli, and finished with paper cemented to the bottom of
the bason.
Bason, among hatters, is a large round shell or case,
ordinarily of iron, placed over a furnace j wherein the
matter of the hat is moulded into form. The hatters
have also basons for the brims of hats, usually of lead,
having an aperture in the middle, of a diameter suffi¬
cient for the largest block to go through.
BASQUES, a small territory of France, towards the
Pyrenean mountains. It comprehends Labourd, Lower
Navarre, and the district of Soule, which, with Bearn,
form the department of the Lower Pyrenees.
BASS, the lowest in the four parts of music : of
uncertain etymology ; whether from the Greek word
“ a foundation or from the Italian adjective
msso, signifying “ low.” Of all the parts it is the most
impoitant, and it is upon this that the chords proper
to constitute a particular harmony are determined.
Hence the maxim among musicians, that when the
bass is properly formed, the harmony can scarcely be
bad.
Basses are of different kinds. Of which in their
order.
Thorough-Bass is the harmony made by the bass-
viols, or theorbos, continuing to play both while the
voices sing and the other instruments perform their
parts, and also filling up the intervals when any of the
other parts stop. It is played by figures marked over
the notes, on the organ, spinet, harpsichord, &c. and
frequently simply and without figures on the bass-viol
and bassoon.
Counter-BASS is a second or double bass, where there
are several in the same concert.
BASS-Viol, a musical instrument of the like form with
that of a violin, but much larger. It is struck with a
bow as that is ; has the same number of strings ; and
has eight stops, which are subdivided into semistops.
Its sound is grave, and has a much nobler effect in a
concert than that of the violin.
Bass, Isle of, a rock, about a mile in circumfe¬
rence, in the mouth of the frith of Forth, at a small
distance from the town of North Berwick in East Lo¬
thian. It is steep and inaccessible on all sides, except
to the south-west; and even there it is with great dif¬
ficulty that a single man can climb up with the help of
a rope or ladder. It was formerly kept as a garrison.
A party of King James’s adherents surprised it at the
Revolution, and it was the last place in the three king¬
doms that submitted to the new government j upon
which its fortifications were ordered to be neglected.
In summer, this remarkable rock, which rises to a great
height above the water, in form of a cone, is quite co¬
vered with sea-fowl which come hither to breed. The
chief of these are the solan geese*, which arrive in* s;ee
June, and retire in September. It also contains a smallcamw, Or-
warren for rabbits, and affords pasture for a few sheep.
The force of the tides has now almost worn a hole
quite through this rock. W. Long. 2. 15. N. Lat.
56- 3*
BASSAN, Giacomo de Pont, or Le Bassan, a
celebrated Venetian painter, was born in 1510. His
subjects generally were peasants and villagers, busy at
their different rural occupations, according to the va¬
rious seasons of the year 5 cattle, landscapes, and histo¬
rical designs 5 and in all those subjects the figures were
well designed, and the animals and landscapes have an
agreeable resemblance of simple nature. His composi¬
tions cannot boast of much elegance or grandeur of
taste, not even those which are historical j but they have
abundance of force and truth. His local colours are
very well observed, his carnations are fresh and bril¬
liant, and the chiaro-scuro and perspective well under¬
stood. His touch is free and spirited j and the distan¬
ces in his landscapes are always true, if not sometimes
too dark in the nearer parts. His works are spread
all over Europe : many of them were purchased by
fitian ; and there are several in the French king’s ca¬
binet, the royal palace, and the Hotel de Toulouse.
I hey are more readily known than those of most other
painters 5 from the similitude of characters and counte¬
nances in the figures and animals ; from the taste in
the buildings, utensils, and draperies $ and, besides
from
BAS
assail from a violet or purple tint that predominates in every
|j one of his pictures. But the genuine pictures of his
tS^ntUi; hand are not so easily ascertained ; because he frequent¬
ly repeated the same design, and his sons were mostly
employed in copying the works of their father, which
he sometimes retouched. As he lived to be very old,
he finished a great number of pictures; yet, notwith¬
standing his application and years, the real pictures of
Giacomo are not commonly met with. Many of those
which are called originals by purchasers as well as
dealers, being at best no more than copies by the sons
of Bassan, who were far inferior to him; or perhaps
by some painter of still meaner abilities. But the true
pictures of Giacomo always bear a considerable price
it they happen to be undamaged. He died in 1592,
aged 82.—firancis and Beamier, his sons, distinguish¬
ed themselves in the same art ; but inheriting a species
of junacy from their mother, both came to an untimely
BASSINI, Giovanni Battista, maestro di cap-
pella of the cathedral church of Bologna, about the
middle of the last century, was a very voluminous com¬
poser of music, having given to the world no fewer than
31 difierent works. He is equally celebrated both as
a composer for the church and for concerts; and was
besides a celebrated performer on the violin, and, as it
is said, taught Corelli on that instrument. His compo¬
sitions consist ot masses, psalms, motets with instru¬
mental parts, and sonatas for violins; his fifth opei’a in
particular, containing 12 sonatas for two violins and a
bass, is most esteemed ; it is written in a style wonder¬
fully grave and pathetic, and abounds with evidences of
great learning and fine invention. The first and third
operas of Corelli are apparently formed after the model
of this work. Bassani was one of the first who com¬
posed motets for a single voice, with accompaniments
of violins ; a practice which is liable to objection, as it
assimilates church-music too nearly to that of the cham-
ber ; and of his sol-motets it must be confessed that they
difler in style but little from opera airs and cantatas; two
operas of them, viz. the eighth and thirteenth, were
printed in Bondon by Pearson above 30 years ago, with
the title of Harmonia Festiva.
BASSAN I IN, James, a Scotch astronomer, son
of the laird of Bassantin in Mers, was born in the reign
of James I\ . He was educated at the university of
Glasgow, travelled through Germany and Italy, and
then fixed his abode in the university of Paris, where
he taught mathematics with great applause. Having
acquired some fortune in this occupation, in 1562 he
leturned to Scotland, where he died in the year 1368.
From his writings, he appears to have been no con¬
temptible astronomer, considering the times ; but, like
most of the mathematicians of that age, he was not a
little addicted to judicial astrology. Sir James Melvil,
in his Memoirs, says that his brother Sir Robert, when
he was exerting his abilities to reconcile the two queens
Bhzabeth and Mary, met with one Bassantin, a man
earned in the high sciences, who told him, “ that all
his travel would be in vain ; for, said he, they will ne¬
ver meet together ; and next, there will never be any
thing but dissembling and secret hatred for a while, anil
at length captivity and utter wreck to our queen from
Bngland.” He added, “ that the kingdom of Eng¬
land at length shall fall* of right, to the crown of Scot-
Vol. III. Part II. |
t 449 1
BAS
land : but it shall cost many bloody battles ; and the Bassantira
Spaniards shall be helpers, and take apart to themselves fl
for their labour.” Sir James Melvil is an author of Basset,
credit; therefore it is probable that our astrologer ven- v *
tured to utter his prediction : but, as it proved true
only in part, either he misunderstood the stars, or they
deceived the astrologer. His works are, 1. Astronomia
Jacobi Bassantini Scoti, opus absolutissimum, Sfc. ter
editum Laiine et Gallice. Genev. 1599. fob This is
the title given it by Tormesius, who translated it into
Batin from the French, in which language it was first
published. 2. Paraphrase de PAstrolabe, avec un am-
plification de Pusage de VAstrolabe. Lyons Paris
1617, 8vo. 3. Mathematic, genethliaca. 4. Arithme-
tica. 5. Musica secundum Platonem. 6. De Mathesi
in generc.
BASSE, or Bass, a town of the French Nether¬
lands, in the county of Flanders, on the coniines of Ar¬
tois, remarkable on account of the many sieges it has
sustained ; but its fortifications are now demolished. It
is seated on a canal which runs as far as Deule. E.
Bong. 3. o. N. Bat. 50. 53.
Basse Terre, part of the island of St Christophei
one of the Caribbee islands, formerly occupied by the
French, but ceded to Great Britain by the treaty of
Utrecht in 1713.
BASSET, or Basette, a game with cards, said
to have been invented by a noble Venetian, for which
he was banished. It was first introduced in Fiance
by Signior Justiniani, ambassador of Venice, in 1674.
Severe laws were made against it by Bouis XIV. to
elude which they disguised basset under the name of
pour et centre, that is, “ for and against,” which oc¬
casioned new arrets and prohibitions of parliament. The
parties concerned in it are, a dealer or banker; his assist¬
ant, who supervises the losing cards ; and the punter, or
any one who plays against the banker.
Besides these, there are other terms used in this
game: as, 1. The fasse or face, which is the first card
turned up by the tailleur belonging to the pack, hy
which he gains the value of half the money laid down
on every card of that sort by the punters. 2. The
couch, or first money which every punter puts on each
card ; each person that plays having a book of 13 se¬
veral cards before him, on which he may lay his mo¬
ney, more or less, at discretion. 3. The paroli;
which is, when a punter having won the first stake,
and having a mind to pursue his good fortune, crooks
the corner of his card, and lets his prize lie, aiming at
a sept et le va. 4. Ihe masse ; when having w’on the
first stake, the punter is willing to venture more money
on the same card. 5. I he/My; when the punter ha¬
ving won the first stake, be it a shilling, half crown,
guinea, or whatever he laid down on his card, and not
caring to hazard the paroli, leaves off, or goes the pay ;
in which case, if the card turns up wrong, he loses no¬
thing, having won the couch before ; whereas, if it
turn right, he by this adventure wons double the mo¬
ney staked. 6. The alpiew; much the same with
paroli, and used when a couch is won by turning up
or crooking the corner of the winning card. 7. Sept
et le va, the first great chance or prize, when the pun¬
ter, having won the couch, makes a paroli, and goes
on to a second chance ; so that if his winning card turns
up again, it comes to sept et Is va, which is seven
3 -F times
BAS r 45° ] BAS
Basset, times as much as he laid down on his card. 8. Quinxe
•—y-— et le va is the next higher prize, when the punter ha¬
ving won the former, is resolved to push his fortune,
and lay his money a second time on the same card by
crooking another corner j in which case, if it .comes
up, he wins fifteen times the money he laid down.
9. Trent et le va is the next higher prize, when the
punter, crooking the fourth corner of his winning card,
if it turn up, wins 33 times the money he first staked.
10. Soixatit et le va is the highest prize, and entitles
the winner to 67 times his first money j which, if it
were considerable, stands a chance to break the bank $
but the bank stands many chances first of breaking
the punter. This cannot be won but by the tailleur’s
dealing the cards over again.
The rules of the game of basset are as follow : I. The
banker holds a pack of 52 cards, and having shuffled
them, he turns the whole pack at once, so as to dis¬
cover the last card j after which he lays down all the
cards by couples. 2. The punter has his book of 13
cards in his hand, from the king to the ace j out of
these he takes one card, or more at pleasure, upon
which he lays a stake. 3. The punter may, at his
choice, either lay down his stake before the pack is
turned, or immediately after it is turned, or after any
number of couples are down. 4. Supposing the pun¬
ter to lay down his stake after the pack is turned, and
calling I, 2, 3, 4, 5, &c. the places of those cards
which follow the card in view, either immediately after
the pack is turned, or after any number of couples are
drawn. Then, 5. If the card upon which the punter
has laid a stake comes out in any even place, except
the first, he wins a stake equal to his own. 6. If the
card upon which the punter has laid a stake come out
in any even place, except the second, he loses his stake.
7. If the card of the punter comes out in the first place,
he neither wins nor loses, but takes his own stake again.
8. If the card of the punter comes out in the second
place, he does not lose his whole stake, but only one
half*, and this is the case in which the punter is said to
be faced. 9. When the punter chooses to come in
after any number of couples are down, if his card hap¬
pens to be but once in the pack, and is the last of all,
there is an exception from the general rule; for though
it comes out in an odd place, which should entitle him
to win a stake equal to his own, yet he neither wins
nor loses from that circumstance, but takes back his own
stake.
Ibis game has been the object of mathematical cal¬
culations. M. de Moivre solves this problem j to esti¬
mate at basset the loss of the punter under any circum¬
stance of cards remaining in the stock when he lays his
stake, and of any number of times that his card is re¬
peated in the stock. From this solution he has formed
a table showing the several losses of the punter in what¬
soever circumstances he may happen to be. From this
table it appears, 1. That the fewer the cards are in the
stock, the greater is the loss of the punter. 2. That the
least loss of the punter, under the same circumstances of
cards remaining in the stock, is when the card is but
twice in it} the next greater when but three times j still
greater when four times ; and the greatest when but
once, i he gain of the banker upon all the money ad¬
ventured at basset is 15s. 3d. per cent.
Basset, Peter, a gentleman of good family, was
2
chamberlain or gentleman of the privy chamber to King Bassa
Henry V. a constant attendant on that brave prince,
and an eye-witness of his most glorious actions both at B“«ora. «■
home and abroad $ all which he particularly described
in a volume, entitled, The Acte of King Henry V. which
remains in MS. in the college of heralds.
BASSETING, in the coal mines, denotes the rise
of the vein of coal towards the surface of the earth, till
it come within two or three feet of the surface itself.
This is also called by the workmen cropping; and stands
opposed to dipping, which is the descent of the vein to
such a depth that it is rarely, if ever, followed to the
end.
BASSIA. See Botany Index.
BASSO-relievo, or Bas-relief; a piece of
sculpture, where the figures or images do not protu-
berate, jet, or stand out, far above the plane on which
they are formed.—Whatever figures or representations
are thus cut, stamped, or otherwise wrought, so that not
the entire body, but only part of it, is raised above the
plane, are said to be done in relief or relievo ; and when
that work is low, flat, and but little raised, it is called
low relief. When a piece of sculpture, a coin, or a me¬
dal, has its figure raised so as to be well distinguished,
it is called bold, and we say its relief is strong.
BASSOON, a musical instrument of the wind-sort,
blown with a reed, furnished with 11 holes, and used as
a bass in a concert of hautboys, flutes, &c. To render
this instrument more portable, it is divided into two
parts, whence it is called a faggot. Its diameter at
bottom is nine inches, and its holes are stopped like
those of a large flute.
BASSORA, Balsora, or Basrah, a city between
Arabia and Persia, situated in the extremity of the
deserts of Irak, a little to the west of the Tigris, in
about 570 east longitude, and 30° north latitude. It
was built by the command of the caliph Omar, in the kb
15th year of the Hegira, for the sake of carrying on 1 bw
more commodiously an extensive commerce between the
Syrians, Arabians, Persians, and Indians. It contains
50,000 or 60,000 inhabitants ; and stands upon a thick
stony soil, as the word basra imports, about a day
and a half’s journey from one of the mouths of the Ti¬
gris, where it empties itself into the Persian gulf, de¬
nominated likewise from this town the Bay of Basra.
The circumjacent tract is looked upon by the Arabs to
be one of the most delightful spots in Asia, and even as
one of the most beautiful gardens in the world ; how¬
ever, the hot winds that frequently blow there are very
troublesome to travellers, and sometimes overwhelm
them with sand driven by the force of these winds out
of the neighbouring deserts. The city is inhabited by
Jacobites, Nestorians, Jews, Mahometans,and Chaldean
Christians, commonly called Christians oj St John, which
last are pretty numerous here.
The abb£ Raynal values the merchandise annually
brought to Bassora at 525,000!.: of which the Eng¬
lish furnish 1 75,000).; the Hutch 87,500!. ; and the
Moors, Banians, Armenians, and Arabs, furnish the
remainder. “ The cargoes of these nations (says he)
consist of rice, sugar ; plain, striped, and flowered mus¬
lins from Bengal; spices from Ceylon and the Molucca
islands; coarse white and blue cottons from Coro¬
mandel; cardamom, pepper, sanders wood, from Ma¬
labar ; gold and silver stuffs, turbans, shawls, indigo,
from
Smsora,
Brtit'ird.
Mckst.
(foment.
BAS [ 4
from Surat *, pearls from Baharen, ami coffee from Mo¬
cha ; iron, lead, and woollen cloth, from Europe. Other
“'articles of less consequence are imported from different
places. Some of these commodities are shipped on board
small Arabian vessels; but the greater part is brought
by European ships, which have the advantage of a con¬
siderable freight.
“ This merchandise is sold for ready money ; and
passes through the hands of the Greeks, Jews, and Ar¬
menians. The Banians are employed in changing the
coin current at Bassora, for that which is of higher va¬
lue in India.
“ The different commodities collected at Bassora are
distributed into three channels. One half of them goes
to Persia, whither they are conveyed by the caravans;
there being no navigable river in the whole empire.
The chief consumption is in the northern provinces,
which have not been so much ravaged as those of the
south. Both of them formerly made their payments
in precious stones, which were become common by the
plunder of India. They had afterwards recourse to
copper utensils, which had been exceedingly multiplied
from the great abundance of copper mines. At last they
gave gold and silver in exchange, which had been con¬
cealed during a long scene of tyranny, and are conti¬
nually dug out of the bowels of the earth. If they do
not allow time for the trees that produce gum, and have
been cut, to make fresh shoots ; if they neglect to multi¬
ply the breed of goats which afford such fine wool, and
if the silks, which are hardly sufficient to supply the few
manufactures remaining in Persia, continue to be so
scarce ;—in a word, if this empire does not rise again
from its ashes, the mines will be exhausted, and this
source of commerce must be given up.
BASTARD, a natural child, or one begotten and
born out of lawful wedlock.
The civil and canon laws do not allow a child to re¬
main a bastard, if the parents afterwards intermarry ;
and herein they differ most materially from our law ;
which, though not so strict as to require that a child
shall be begotten, yet makes it an indispensable condi¬
tion that it shall be born, after lawful wedlock. And
the reason of our law is surely much superior to that of
the Roman, if we consider the principal end and de¬
sign of establishing the contract of marriage, taken in a
civil light; abstractedly from any religious views, which
has nothing to do with the legitimacy or illegitimacy of
the children. The main end and design of marriage,
therefore, being to ascertain and fix upon some certain
person, to whom the care, the protection, the main¬
tenance, and the education of the children, should be¬
long j this end is undoubtedly better answered by legi¬
timating all issue born after wedlock, than by legiti¬
mating all issue of the same parties, even born before
wedlock, so as wedlock afterwards ensues: I. Because
of the very great uncertainty there will generally be,
in the proof that the issue was really begotten by the
same man ; whereas, by confining the proof to the
birth, and not to the begetting, our law has rendered
it perfectly certain, what child is legitimate, and who
is to take care of the child. 2. Because, by the Ro¬
man law, a child may be continued a bastard, or made
legitimate, at the option of the father and mother, by
a marriage ex post facto; thereby opening a door to
many frauds and partialities, which by our law are pre-
51 ] BAS
vented. 3. Because by those laws a man may remain Bastard,
a bastard till 40 years of age, and then become legiti-—y——
mate by the subsequent marriage of his parents ; where¬
by the main end of marriage, the protection of infants,
is totally frustrated. 4. Because this rule of the Ro¬
man law admits of no limitation as to the time, or num¬
ber of bastards to be so legitimated ; but a dozen of
them may, 20 years after their birth, by the subsequent
marriage of their parents, be admitted to all the privi¬
leges of legitimate children. This is plainly a great
discouragement to the matrimonial state ; to which one
mam inducement is usually not only the desire of having
children, but also the desire of procreating lawful heirs.
Whereas, our constitution guards against this indecency,
and, at the same time, gives sufficient allowance to the
frailties of human nature. For if a child be begotten
while the parents are single, and they will endeavour to
make an early reparation for the offence, by marrying
within a few months after, our law is so indulgent as
not to bastardize the child, if it be born, though not be¬
gotten, in lawful wedlock ; for this is an incident that
can happen but once ; since all future children will be
begotten, as well as born, within the rules of honour
and civil society.
From what has been said it appears, that all children
born before matrimony are bastards by our law : and
so it is of all children born so long after the death of
the husband, that by the usual course of gestation,
they could not be begotten by him. But this being a
matter of some uncertainty, the law is not exact as to
a few days. But if a man dies, and bis widow soon
after marries again, and a child is horn within such a
time as that by the course of nature it might have been
the child of either husband : in this case he is said to
be more than ordinarily legitimate ; for he may, when
he arrives to years of discretion, choose which of the fa¬
thers he pleases. To prevent this, among other incon¬
veniences, the civil law ordained that no widow should
marry infra annum luctus; a rule which obtained so
early as the reign of Augustus, if not of Romulus ; and
the same constitution was probably handed down to our
early ancestors from the Romans, during their stay in
this island ; for we find it established under the Saxon
and Danish governments.
As bastards may be born before the coverture or
marriage-state is begun, or after it is determined, so
also children born during wedlock may in some circum¬
stances be bastards. As if the husband be out of the
kingdom of England (or as the law loosely phrases it,
extra quatuor maria') for above nine months, so that no
access to his wife can be presumed, her issue during
that period shall be bastards. But generally during the
coverture, access of the husband shall be presumed, un¬
less the contrary shall be shown ; which is such a ne¬
gative as can only be proved by shewing him to be else¬
where ; for the general rule is, prcrsumitur pro legitima-
tione. In a divorce a mensa et thoro, if the wife breeds
children, they are bastards ; for the law will presume
the husband and wife conformable to the sentence of
separation, unless access be proved : but in a voluntary
separation by agreement, the law will suppose access,
unless the negative be shown. So also, if there is an
apparent impossibility of procreation on the part of the
husband, as if he be only eight years old, or the like,
there the issue of the wife shall be bastard. Likewise,
3 L 2 in
B A S
[ 452 ]
BAS
Bastard
in case of divorce in the spiritual court vinculo mairi-
-> monii, ail the issue horn during the coverture are ba¬
stards ; because such divorce is always upon some cause
that rendered the marriage unlawful and null from the
beginning.
As to the duty of parents to their bastard children,
by our law, it is principally that of maintenance. For
though bastards are not looked upon as children to any
civil purposes, yet the ties of nature, of which mainte¬
nance is one, are not so easily dissolved ; and they hold
indeed as to many other intentions ; as particularly
that a man shall not marry his bastard sister or daugh¬
ter. The method in which the English law provides
maintenance for them is as follows : When a woman is
delivered, or declares herself with child, of a bastard,
and will by oath before a justice of the peace charge
auy person having got her with child, the justice shall
cause such person to be apprehended, and commit him
till he gives security, either to maintain the child, or
appear at the next quarter sessions to dispute and try
the fact. Eut, if the woman dies, or is married, before
delivery, or miscarries, or proves not to have been with
child, the person shall be discharged j otherwise the
sessions, or two justices out of sessions, upon original
application to them, may take order for the keeping of
the bastard, by charging the mother or the reputed
father with the payment of money or other susten-
tation for that purpose. And if such putative father,
or lewd mother, run away from the parish, the over¬
seers, by direction of two justices, may seize their rent,
goods, and chattels, in order to bring up the said ba¬
stard child. Yet sucli is the humanity of our law’s,
that no woman can be compulsively questioned concern¬
ing the father of her child till one month after her de¬
livery j which indulgence is, however, very frequently
a hardship upon parishes, by giving the parents oppor¬
tunity to escape.
As to the rights and incapacities which appertain to a
bastard : 1 lie former are very few, being only such as
he can acquire ; for he can inherit nothing, being look¬
ed upon as the son oi nobody, and sometimes called
?w//iz/,9, sometimes Jihus popuh. Yet he may gain
a surname by reputation, though he has none by inhe¬
ritance. All other children have their primary settle¬
ment in their father’s parish j but a bastard in the parish
■where born, for he hath no father. However, in case
of fraud, as if a woman either be sent by order of ju¬
stices, or comes to beg as a vagrant, to a parish which
she does not belong to, and drops her bastard there,
the bastard shall, in the first case, be settled in the pa¬
rish from whence she was illegally removed; or in the
latter case, in the mother’s own parish, if the mother
be apprehended for her vagrancy. Eastards also, born
in any licensed hospital for pregnant women, are settled
in the parisn to which the mothers belong.—The in¬
capacity of a bastard consists principally in this, that he
cannot be heir to any one ; for being nulliusJllius, he
is therefore of kin to nobody, and has no ancestor from
whom an inheritable blood can be derived : Therefore,
it there be no other .claimant upon an inheritance than
such illegitimate child, it shall escheat to the lord. And
as bastards cannot be heirs themselves, so neither can
they nave any heirs but those of their own bodies. For
as all collateral kindred consists in being derived from
Bastard.
the same common ancestor, and as a bastard has no le¬
gal ancestoi-, he can have no collateral kindred ; and
consequently can have no legal heirs, but such as claim
by a lineal descent from himself. And therefore, if a
bastard purchases land, and dies seized thereof without
issue, and intestate, the land shall escheat to the lord of
the fee. A bastard was also, in strictness, incapable of
holy orders; and though that were dispensed with,
yet he was utterly disqualified from holding any dig¬
nity in the church, but this doctrine seems now obso¬
lete ; and in all other respects there is no distinction
between a bastard and another man. And really any
other distinction but that of not inheriting, which civil
policy renders necessary, would, with regard to the in¬
nocentoffspring of his parent’s crimes, he odious, unjust,
and cruel, to the last degree ; and yet the civil law so
boasted of for its equitable decisions, made bastards in
some cases incapable even of a gift from their parents.
A bastard may, lastly, be made legitimate, and capa¬
ble of inheriting, by the transcendant power of an act
of parliament, and not otherwise ; as wras done in the
case of John of Gaunt’s bastard children, by a statute
of Richard II.
As to the punishment for having bastard children :
By the statute of 18 Eliz. c. 3. two justices may take
order for the punishment of the mother and reputed fa¬
ther ; but what that punishment shall be is not therein
ascertained : though the cotemporary exposition was,
that a corporeal punishment was intended. By statute
7 Jac. I. c. 4. a specific punishment (viz. commitment
to the house of correction) is inflicted on the wo¬
man only. But in both cases it seems that the pe¬
nalty can only be inflicted, if the bastard becomes
chargeable to the parish ; for otherwise the very main¬
tenance of the child is considered as a degree of pu¬
nishment. By the last mentioned statute the justices
may commit the mother to the house of correction,
there to be punished and set on work for one year: and
in case of a second ofience, till she find sureties never
to offend again.
He that gets a bastard in the hundred of Middleton
in Kent, foi-feits all his goods and chattels to the
king*. * Chamb.
If a bastard he got under the umbrage of a certain Die#,
oak in Knollwood in Staflordshii'e, belonging to the
manor of lerley castle, no punishment can he inflict¬
ed, nor can the lord nor the bishop take cognizance
f Plot. Not-
It is enacted by statute 21 Jac. I. c. 27. that if any Hitt. Staff.
woman be delivered of a child, which, if born alive,P>27>
should by law be a bastard ; and endeavoui’s privately
to conceal its death, by burying the child or the like ;
the mother so ofl’ending shall suffer death, as in the case
ol murder, unless she can prove by one witness at least
that the child was actually boi-n dead. This law, which
savours pretty strongly of severity, in making the con¬
cealment of the death almost conclusive evidence of
the child’s being murdered by the mother, is never¬
theless to be also met with in the criminal codes
of many other nations of Europe ; as the Danes, the
Swedes, and the French : but it has of late years
been usual with us, upon trials for this offence, to re¬
quire some sort of presumptive evidence that the child
was born alive, before the other constrained presump¬
tion
SastarJ,
astai dy,
*1 Cange
Mfi Lat.
tow.
P
BAS [45
tion (that the child, wliose death is concealed, was
therefore killed by its parent) is admitted to convict
— the prisoner.
Concerning bastards in Scotland, and the laws with
regard to them, see Law.
Bastard, in respect of artillery, is applied to those
pieces which are of an unusual or illegitimate make or
proportion. These are of two kinds, long and short,
according as the defect is on the redundant or defective
side. 1 he long bastards again, are either common or
uncommon. To the common kind belong the double
culverin extraordinary, half culverin extraordinary,
quarter culverin extraordinary, falcon extraordinary,
&c. The ordinary bastard culverin carries a ball of
eight pounds.
Bastards is also an appellation given to a kind
of faction or troop of banditti, who rose in Guienne
about the beginning of the fourteenth century, and
joining with some English parties, ravaged the coun¬
try, and set fire to the towns.—Mezeray supposes
them to have consisted of the natural sons of the no¬
bility of Guienne, who being excluded the right of
inheriting from their fathers, put themselves at the
head of robbers and plunderers to maintain them¬
selves.
Bastard Fbwer-fence. See Adenanthera.—The
flowers of this plant bruised and steeped in milk are said
to be gently anodyne 5 for which purpose they are of¬
ten given in the \Vest Indies to quiet very young chil¬
dren. The leaves are used instead of sena in Barba-
does and the Leeward islands. In Jamaica, the plant
is called sena.
Bastard Hemp. See Datisca, Botany Index.
Bastard Rocket, Dyers-Weed, or Wild Woad. See
Reseda, Botany Index.
Bastard Star-qf-Bethlehem See Albuca, Bo¬
tany Index.
BASTARD-Scarlet is a name given to red dyed with
bale madder, as coming nearest the how-dye, or new
scarlet.
BASTARD!, is a defect of birth objected to one
born out of wedlock. Eustathius will have bastards
among the Greeks to have been in equal favour with le¬
gitimate children, as low as the Trojan war ; but the
course of antiquity seems against him. Potter and
others show, that there never was a time when bastar¬
dy was not in disgrace.
In the time of William the Conqueror, however, ba¬
stardy seems not -to have implied any reproach, if we
may judge from the circumstance of that monarch him¬
self not. scrupling to assume the appellation of bastard.
His epistle to Alan count of Bretagne begins, Ego
Willielnms cognomento bastardies *.
Bastardy, in relation to its trial in law, is distin¬
guished into general and special. General bastardy is a
certificate from the bishop of tiie diocese, to the king’s
justices, after inquiry made, whether the party is a ba¬
stard or not, upon some question of inheritance. Ba¬
stardy special is a suit commenced in the king’s courts
against a person that calls another a bastard.
Arms of BAstardy should be crossed with a bar, fil¬
let, or traverse from the right to the left. They were
not formerly allowed to carry the arms of their father,
and therefore they invented arms for themselves j and'
this is still done by the natural sons of a king. .
3 ] BAS
Right of Bastardy, Droit de batardise, in the French
laws, is a right, in virtue whereof the effects of bas¬
tards dying intestate devolve to the king or the lord.
BASTARNyE, or Basternye, a people of German
original, manners, and language ; who extended them¬
selves a great way to the east of the Vistula, the east
boundary of Germany, among the Sarmatse, as far as
the mouth ol the Ister and the Buxine j and were di¬
vided into several nations.
BASIARNICyE alpes, in Ancient Geography,
mountains extending between Poland, Hungary, and
I ransylvania, called also the Carpates, and now the
Carpathian mountains.
. BASTI, in Ancient Geography, a town of the pro¬
vince of Baetica in Spain, situated to the west of the
Campus Spartarius. Now Ba%a in Granada.
BAST!A, a sea-port town of Albania in Turkey
in Europe, over against the island of Corfu, at the
mouth of the river Calamu. E. Long. 10. 35. N. Lat.
39.40.
Bastia, the capital of the island of Corsica in the
Mediterranean. It has a good harbour, and is strongly
fortified. It is situated on the western part of the coast,
70 miles south-south-west of Leghorn, in E. Long. 9.
42. N. Lat. 42.-35.
BASTILE, denotes a small antique castle, fortified
with turrets. Such was the Bastile of Paris, which
seems to have been the last castle that retained tbe,
name : it was begun to be built in 1369 by order of
Charles V. and was finished in 1383 under the reign
ot his successor.—Its chief use was for the custody of
state prisoners ; or, more properly speaking, for the
clandestine purpose of unfeeling despotism.
The lieutenant-general of the police of Paris was
the sub-delegate of the ministry for the department of
the Bastile. He had under him a titular commissary,
who was called the commissary of the Bastile. He
had a fixed salary for drawing up what were called in¬
structions, but he did not do this exclusively. He had
no inspection or function but in cases where he received
orders: the reason of which was that all that was done
in this castle was arbitrary.
Each prisoner on coming to the Bastile had an in¬
ventory made of every thing about him. His trunks,
clothes, linens, and pockets were searched, to discover
whether there were any papers in them relative to the
matter for which he was apprehended. It was not usual
to search persons of a certain rank ; but they were asked
for their knives, razors, scissars, watches, canes, jewels,
and money. After this examination, the prisoner was
conducted into an apartment, where he was locked up
within three doors. They who had no servants made
their own bed and fire. The hour of dining was eleven,
and of sapping six.
At the beginning of their confinement they had nei¬
ther books, ink, or paper; they went neither to mass,
nor on the walks \ they were not allowed to write to
any one, not even to the lieutenant of the police, on
whom all depended, and of whom permission must first
have been asked by means of the major, who seldom
refused. At first they went to mass only every other
Sunday. When a person had obtained leave to write
to the lieutenant of the police, he might have asked
his permission to write to his family, and to receive
their answers j to have wxth.him his servant or an at¬
tendant,.
BAS [ 45+ ] BAS
R^UIe. tendant, &c. which requests were either granted or re-
1 1 v'“—“ fused according to circumstances. Nothing could be
obtained but through this channel.
The officers of the staff took the charge of conveying
the letters of the prisoners to the police. They were
sent regularly at noon and at night: but if they desired
it, their letters were sent at any hour by expresses, who
were paid out of the money of those who were con¬
fined. The answers were akvays addressed to the ma¬
jor, who communicated them to the prisoner. If no
notice was taken of any request contained in the letter
of the prisoner, it was a refusal. The attendants whom
they appointed for those who were not allowed their own
servants, or who had none of their own, were common¬
ly invalid soldiers.
Sometimes a prisoner obtained permission of having
hooks, his watch, knife, and razors, and even paper
and ink. He might have asked to see the lieutenant
of the police when he came to the Bastile. This officer
commonly caused prisoners to be brought down some
days after their arrival. Sometimes he went to visit them
in their chambers.
When the lieutenant of the police saw a prisoner,
the conversation turned upon the cause of his confine¬
ment. He sometimes asked for written and signed de¬
clarations. In general, as much circumspection was
necessary in these conferences as in the examination it¬
self, since nothing that a person might have said or
written was forgotten.
When a prisoner wanted to transmit any thing to
the lieutenant of the police, it was always by means of
the major. Notes might have been sent to this officer
by the turnkeys. A person was never anticipated in
any thing—he must have asked for every thing $ even
for permission to be shaved. This office was performed
by the surgeon j who also furnished sick or indisposed
prisoners with sugar, coffee, tea, chocolate, confections,
and the necessary remedies.
The time of walking was an hour a-day j sometimes
an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening, in
the great court.
A prisoner might have been interrogated a few days
after his entrance into the Bastile, but frequently this
was not done till after some weeks. Sometimes he was
previously informed of the day when this was to be
done ; often he was only acquainted with it the mo¬
ment he was brought down to the council-chamber.
This commission of interrogatory was executed by the
lieutenant of the police, a counsellor of state, a master
of requests, a counsellor or a commissioner of the Cha-
telet. When the lieutenant of the police did not him¬
self interrogate, he usually came at the end of the exa¬
mination.
The commissioners were purely passive beings. Fre¬
quently they attempted to frighten a prisoner; they laid
snares for him, and employed the meanest artifices to
get a confession from him. They pretended proofs, ex¬
hibited papers, without suffering him to read them : as¬
serting that they were instruments of unavoidable con¬
viction. Their interrogatories were always vague.
I hey turned not only on the prisoner’s words and
actions, but on his most secret thoughts, and on the
discourse and conduct of persons of his acquaintance,
whom it was wished to bring into question.
The examiners told a prisoner that his life was at
stake ; that his fate depended on himself j that if he
would make a fair declaration, they were authorized to
promise him a speedy release j but if he refused to con¬
fess, he would be given up to a special commission :
that they were in possession of decisive documents, of
authentic proofs, more than sufficient to ruin him ; that
his accomplices had discovered all j that the govern¬
ment had unknown resources, of which he could have
no suspicion. They fatigued prisoners by varied and
infinitely multiplied interrogatories. According to the
persons, they employed promises, caresses, and menaces.
Sometimes they used insults, and treated the unhappy
sufferers with an insolence that filled up the mea¬
sure of that tyranny of which they were the base in¬
struments.
If the prisoner made the required confession, the
commissioners then told him, that they had no precise
authority for his enlargement, but that they had every
reason to expect it; that they were going to solicit it,
&c. The prisoner’s confessions, far from bettering his
condition, gave occasion to new interrogatories, often
lengthened his confinement, drew in the persons with
whom he had connexions, and exposed himself to new
vexations.
Although there were rules for all occasions, yet every
thing was subject to exceptions arising from influence,
recommendations, protection, intrigue, &c. because the
first principle in this place was arbitrary will. Very
frequently, persons confined on the same account were
treated very differently, according as their recommenda¬
tions were more or less considerable.
There was a library, founded by a foreign prisoner
who died in the Bastile in the beginningof the last cen¬
tury. Some prisoners obtained leave to go to it; others,
to have the books carried to their chambers.
The falsest things were told the prisoners with an air
of sincerity and concern. “ It is very unfortunate that
the king has been prejudiced against you. His ma¬
jesty cannot hear your name mentioned without being
irritated. The affair for which you have lost your li¬
berty is only a pretext—they had designs against you
before—you have powerful enemies.” These discourses
were the etiquette of the place.
It would have been in vain for a prisoner to ask leave
to write to the king—he could never obtain it.
The perpetual and mest insupportable torment of
this cruel and odious inquisition, were vague, indeter¬
minate, false, or equivocal promises, inexhaustible and
constantly deceitful hopes of a speedy release, exhor¬
tations to patience, and blind conjectures, of which
the lieutenant of the police and officers were very la¬
vish.
To cover the odium of the barbarities exercised here,
and slacken the zeal of relations or patrons, the most
absurd and contradictory slanders against a prisoner
were frequently published. The true causes of impri¬
sonment, and real obstacles to release, were concealed.
These resources, which were infinitely varied, were in¬
exhaustible.
When a prisoner who was known and protected had
entirely lost his health, and his life was thought in
danger, he was always sent out. The ministry did
not choose that persons well known should die in the
Bastile. If a prisoner did die there, he was interred
in the parish of St Paul, under the name of a domes-
BAS [ 455 1 BAS
Biisti'e. l'c 5 aru^ this falsity was written in the register of
—v—^ deaths, in order to deceive posterity. There was ano¬
ther register in which the true names of the deceased
were entered j but it was not without great difficulty
that extracts could be procured from it. The commis¬
sary of the Bastile must first have been informed of the
use the family intended to make of the extract.
In 1674 the baggage of Louis chevalier de Rohan,
grand huntsman of France, having been taken and
rummaged in a skirmish, some letters were found which
caused a suspicion that he had treated with the English
for the surrender of Havre de Grace. He was arrest¬
ed and put into the Bastile. The Sieur de la Tuan-
derie, his agent, concealed himself. The proof was
not sufficient. A commission was named to proceed
against the accused for treason. La Tuanderie was
discovered at Rouen : an attempt was made to arrest
him but he fired on the assailants, and obliged them to
kill him on the spot. Persons attached to the chevalier
de Rohan went every evening round the Bastile, cry¬
ing through a speaking trumpet, “ La Tuanderie is
dead, and has said nothing $” but the chevalier did
not hear them. The commissioners, not being able
to get any thing from him, told him, “ that the king
knew all, that they had proofs, but only wished for his
own confession, and that they were authorised to pro¬
mise him pardon if he would declare the truth.” The
chevalier, too credulous, confessed the whole. Then
the perfidious commissioners changed their language,
They said, “ that with respect to the pardon, they
could not answer for it: but that they had hopes of ob¬
taining it, and would go and solicit it.” This they
troubled themselves very little about; and condemned
the criminal to lose his head. He was conducted on
a platform to the scaffold, by means of a gallery rais¬
ed to the height of the window of the armoury in the
arsenal, which looks towards the little square at the end
of the Rue des Tournelles. He was beheaded on No¬
vember 27. 1674.
The Jesuits of the college of Clermont, in the
Rue St Jacques, Paris, having this same year (1674)
invited the king (Louis XIV.) to honour with his
presence a tragedy to be performed by their scholars,
that prince accepted the invitation. These able cour¬
tiers took care to insert in the piece several strokes of
flattery, with which the monarch, greedy of such in¬
cense, was greatly pleased. When the rector of the
college was conducting the king home, a nobleman in
the train applauded the success of the tragedy. Louis
said, “ Do you wonder at it ? this is my college.” The
Jesuits did not lose a word of this. The very same
night they got engraved in large golden letters on
black marble, Collegium Lodovici Magni, instead of
the former inscription which was placed beneath the
name of Jesus on the principal gate of the college
{Collegium Claramontanum Societatis Jesus'); and in
the morning the new inscription was put up in place
of the old one. A young scholar of quality, aged 13,
who was witness to the zeal of the reverend fathers,
made the two following verses, which he posted up*at
night on the college gate :
Ahstulit hinc Jesum, posuitque insignia' ?'egis
Impia gens : alium non colit ilia Deum.
The Jesuits, did not fail to cry out sacrilege : tire
young author was discovered,‘taken up, and put into Bastile.
the Bastile. The implacable society caused him, as a > - ' ■v~~
matter of favour, to be condemned to perpetual im¬
prisonment j and he was transferred to the citadel of
the isle St Marguerite. Several years after, be was
brought back to the Bastile. In 1705 he had been a
prisoner 31 years. Having become heir to all his fa¬
mily, who possessed great property, the Jesuit Rique-
let, then confessor of the Bastile, remonstrated to his
brethren on the necessity of restoring the prisoner to
liberty. The golden shower which forced the tower
of Danae had the same effect on the castle of the
Bastile. The Jesuits made a merit with the prisoner
of the protection they granted him $ and this man of
rank, whose family would have become extinct with¬
out the aid of the society, did not fail to give them ex¬
tensive proofs of his gratitude.
Nowhere else on earth, perhaps, has human misery,
by human means, been rendered so lasting, so com¬
plete, or so remediless. This the following case ma?
suffice to evince j the particulars of which are trans¬
lated from that elegant and energetic writer M. Mer-
cier. The heinous offence which merited an imprison¬
ment surpassing torture and rendering death a blessing,
though for obvious reasons not specified by our author,
is known from other sources to have consisted in some
unguarded expressions implying disrespect concerning
the late Gallic monarch Louis XV.
Upon the accession of Louis XVI. to the throne, the
ministers then in office, moved by humanity, began their
administration with an act of clemency and justice j
they inspected the registers of the Bastile, and set many
prisoners at liberty. Among those there was an old
man who had groaned in confinement for 47 years be¬
tween four thick and cold stone-walls. Hardened
by adversity, which strengthens both the mind and the
constitution, when they are not overpowered by it, he
had resisted the horrors of his long imprisonment with
an invincible and manly spirit. His locks white, thin,
and scattered, bad almost acquired the rigidity of iron y
whilst his body, environed for so long a time by a cof¬
fin of stone, had borrowed from it a firm and compact
habit. The narrow door of his tomb, turning upon
its grating binges, opened not as usual by halves; and
an unknown voice announced bis liberty, and bade him
depart. Believing this to be a dream, he hesitated j.
but at length rose up and walked forth with trembling
steps, amazed at the space he traversed : The stairs of
the prison, the halls, the court, seemed to him vast, im¬
mense, and almost without bounds. He stopped from
time to time, and gazed around like a bewildered tra¬
veller : His vision was with difficulty reconciled to the
clear light of day : He contemplated the heavens as a
new object: His eyes remained fixed, and he could not
even weep. Stupified with the newly acquired power
of changing his position, his limbs, like his tongue, re¬
fused, in spite of his efforts, to perform their office ; at
length he got through the formidable gate.
When he felt the motion of the carriage prepared to
transport him to his former habitation, he screamed out,
and uttered some inarticulate sounds 5 and as he could
not bear this new movement, he was obliged to de¬
scend. Supported by a benevolent arm, be sought
out the street where he had formerly resided : he found
it, but no trace of his house remained^ one of .the pub¬
lic
BAS [ 456 U BAS
Bastile. lie edifices occupied the spot where it had stood. He
■“■•v——now saw nothing that brought to his recollection, either
that particular quarter, the city itself, or the objects
with which he had formerly been acquainted. The
houses of his nearest neighbours, which were fresh in his
memory, had assumed a new appearance. In vain were
his looks directed to all the objects around him ; he
could discover nothing of which he had the smallest re¬
membrance. Terrified, he stopped and fetched a deep
sigh. To him, what did it import that the city was
peopled with living creatures ? None of them were alive
to him ; he was unknown to all the world, and he knew
nobody : And whilst he wept, he regretted his dun¬
geon.
At the name of the Bastile* which he often pronoun¬
ced and even claimed as an asylum, and the sight of his
clothes that marked a former age, the crowd gathered
round him : curiosity, blended with pity, excited their
attention. T.he most aged asked him many questions,
but had no remembrance of the circumstances he reca¬
pitulated. At length accident brought in his way an
ancient domestic, now a superannuated porter, who,
confined to his lodge for 15 years, had barely sufficient
strength to open the gate:—Even he did not know the
master he had served ; but informed him that grief and
misfortune had brought his wife to the grave 30 years
before, that his children were gone abroad to distant
climes, and that of all his relations and friends none
now remained. This recital was made with the indif¬
ference which people discover for events long passed,
and almost forgot. The miserable man groaned, and
groaned alone. I he crowd around, offering only un¬
known features to his view, made him feel the excess of
his calamities even more than he would have done in the
dreadful solitude that he had left.
Overcome with sorrow, he presented himself before
the minister to whose humanity he owed that liberty
which was now a burden to him. Bowing down, he
said, “ Restore me again to that prison from which
you have taken me : I cannot survive the loss of my
nearest relations j of my friends ; and, in one word, of
a whole generation: Is it possible in the same moment
to be informed of this univeral destruction, and not
to wish for death ? This general mortality, which to
the rest of mankind comes slowly and by degrees, has
to me been instantaneous, the operation of a moment.
Whilst secluded from society, I lived with myself only;
but here i. neither can live with myself nor with this
new race, to whom my anguish and despair appear on¬
ly as a dream. There is nothing terrible in dying ;
but it is dreadful indeed to be the last.” The minister
was melted ; he caused the old domestic to attend this
unfortunate person, as only he could talk to him of his
family. This discourse was the single consolation that
he received : for he shunned all intercourse with a new
race, born since he had been exiled from the world ;
and he passed his time in the midst of Paris in the same
solitude as he had done whilst confined in a dungeon for
almost half a century. But the chagrin and mortifica¬
tion of meeting no person who could say to him, We
were formerly known to one another, soon put an end
to his existence.
Such was the nature of this celebrated fortress.
Many of our readers will probably recollect that it was
attacked and taken by the Parisian mob on the 14th
a
July 1789* At that time only seven prisoners were
found in it, and it did not appear that any of them were
the victims of tyranny or w-anton oppression.
BASITMENTOS, the name of some small islands
near Terra Eirma in South America, at the mouth of
the bay of Nombre de Dios.
BASTINxlDO. See Bastanado.
BAS 1 JON, in the modern fortification, a huge mass
of earth, faced usually with sods, sometimes with brick,
and rarely with stone, standing out from a rampart
whereof it is a principal part, and is what, in the an¬
cient fortification, was called a bulwark.-
Solid Bastions, are those that have the void space
within them filled up entirely, and raised of an equal
height with the rampart.
VOld and Hollow Bastions, are those that are only
surrounded with a rampart and parapet, having the
space within void and empty, where the ground is so
low, that, if the rampart be taken, no retrenchment can
be made in the centre, but what will lie under the fire
of the besieged.
Flat Bastion, is a bastion built in the middle of the
curtain, when it is too long to be defended by the ba¬
stion at its extremes.
Cut Bastion, is that whose point is cut off, and in¬
stead thereof has a re-entering angle, or an angle in¬
wards, with two points outwards ; and is used either
when without such a contrivance the angle would be
too acute, or when water or some other impediment
hinders the carrying on the bastion to its full extent.
Composed Bastion, is when two sides of the interior
polygon are very unequal, which makes the gorges also
unequal.
Deformed Bastion, is when the irregularity of the
lines and angles makes the bastion out of shape ; as when
it wants one of its demigorges, one side of the interior
polygon being too short.
Demi-BASTiON, is composed of one face only, and
but one flank, and a demigorge.
Double Bastion, is that which is raised on the plane
of another bastion.
Begular Bastion, is that which has its true propor¬
tion of faces, flanks, and gorges.
Bastion oj France, a fortress on the coast of Bar¬
bary, belonging to the French.
BASTITANI, in Ancient Geography, a people of
the province of Bsetica in Spain. See B^tica.
BASIOIGNE, a small town of the Netherlands,
in the duchy of Luxemburgh. E. Long. 6. o. N. Lat.
50. 10.
BAST ON, in Law, one of the servants to the war¬
den of the I leet-prison, who attended the king’s courts
with a red staff, for taking into custody such as are com¬
mitted by the court. He also attends on such prisoners
as are permitted to go at large by license.
Baston, or Battoon, in Architecture, a moulding in
the base of a column, called a tore.
Baston, Baton, or Batune. This word is French,
and signifies a stall or cudgel: it should be spelt Baton ;
but is, by most English writers, corruptly spelt as
above. It is only borne in English coats of arms, as
a badge of illegitimacy; but French heralds intro¬
duce it in arms as a difference, or mark of consan¬
guinity.
Baston, Robert, a Carmelite monk, afterwards
prior
B as tilt
II
oas tori.
B A T C 457 ] BAT
Sastou Prlor °* t'16 convent of that order at Scarborough,
|| and also poet laureat and public orator at Oxford,
at-Fowl- flourished in the fourteenth century. King Edward I.
in^' , in his expedition into Scotland in 1304, took Robert
Baston with him, in order to celebrate his victories
over the Scots 5 but our poet being taken prisoner,
was obliged to change his note, and sing the successes
of Robert Bruce. He wrote several books in Latin,
on the wars of Scotland, the Luxury of Priests, Sy¬
nodical Sermons, &c. j and also a volume of tragedies
and comedies, in English. He died about the" year
131°.
BASTONADO, Bastonade, the punishment of
beating or drubbing a criminal with a stick. The word
is formed of the French baston, a “ stick” or “ staff.”
The bastonade was a punishment used both among the
ancient Greeks, Romans and Jews, and still obtains
among the Turks. The Romans called it fustigatio,
fustium admonitio, orfustibus ccedi; which differed from
the Jlagellatio, as the former was done with a stick, the
latter with a rod or scourge. The fustigation was a
lighter punishment, and inflicted on freemen ; the fla¬
gellation a severer, and reserved for slaves. It was also
called tympanum, because the patient here was beat with
sticks, like a drum.—The punishment is much in use
in the east to this day. The method there practised is
thus : the criminal being laid on his belly, his feet are
raised, and tied to a stake, held fast by officers for the
purpose 5 in which posture he is beaten with a cudgel
on the soles of his feet, back, chin, &c. to the number
of 100 or more blows.
BASI WICK, Dr John, born at Writtle in Essex,
*n *593 5 practised physic at Colchester j but being a
man of warm imagination, and a good Latin scholar,
applied himself to writing books against popery. A-
bout the year 1633, he printed in Holland a Latin
treatise, entitled Elenchus religionis Papisticce, with
Flagellum pontificis et episcoporum Latialium, in which
the English prelates thinking themselves also aimed at,
he was fined rood, in the high commission court, ex¬
communicated, prohibited practising physic, his books
ordered to be burnt, and himself to remain in prison
until he made a recantation. Instead of recanting, he
wrote in prison, Apologeticus ad prcesules Anglicanos:
and another book called, Ffie Litany ,• wherein he se¬
verely exclaimed against the proceedings of that court,
and taxed the bishops with an inclination towards po¬
pery. Prynne and Burton coming under the lash of
the star-chamber court at the same time, they were all
censured as scandalous seditious persons, condemned to
a fine of 5000I. each, to be pilloried, to lose their ears,
and to perpetual imprisonment in three remote parts
of the kingdom. The parliament in 1640 reversed
these proceedings ; and ordered Dr Bastwick a repa¬
ration of 3000I. out of the estates of the commissioners
and lords who had persecuted him, which the ensuing
confusions prevented his receiving : however, his wife
had, in 1644, an allowance ordered for her and her
husband’s maintenance. What became of him after¬
ward is not known.
BAT, in Zoology. See Vespertilio, Mammalia
Index.
Bat-Fowling, a method of catching birds in the
night, by lighting some straw, or torches, near the
place where they are at roost ; for upon beatins? them
Vol. III. Part II. * f
up, they fly to the flame, where, being amazed, they Bat-Fowl-
are easily caught in nets or beat down with bushes fix- iog
ed to the end of poles, &c. 1!
Bat, Bate, or Batzi, a small copper coin, mixed •-;Ua>'0iUlu;
with a little silver, current in several cities of Germa¬
ny : it is worth four crutzers. It is also a coin in
Switzerland, current at five livres, or 100 sols, French
money.
EATABLE, or Debatable Ground, that land
which lay between Scotland and England, when the
kingdoms were distinct, to. which both nations pretend¬
ed a right.
BATACALA, a small kingdom on the coast of
Malabar in the East Indies. It had a very large town
of the same name j but there is nothing now left, ex¬
cept 11 or 12 small pagods covered with copper and
stone. The country produces a good deal of pepper :
the English formerly had a factory here; but were all
massacred by the natives, because one of their bulldogs
had killed a consecrated cow.
Batacala, a fortified town and castle on the east
coast of the island of Ceylon in the East Indies. The
Dutch drove away the Portuguese, and possessed them¬
selves of part of the adjacent country. E. Long. 81. 3.
N. Lat. 7. 55.
BATANISTS, or Batenites. See Batenites.
BATASEK, a town of Lower Hungary, seated on
the Danube, in E. Long. 19. 50. N. Lat. 46. 30.
BATAVA (TWra understood), a citadel of VJnde-
licia, so called from the Cohors Batava, in garrison
under the commander in Rhaetia : now Pasau : being
first called Batau, from the Batavi $ then Bassau: and
Passau; situated in Bavaria, at the confluence of the
Danube, Inn, and Ills. See Passau.
BAIAMA, the captial of the Dutch settlement#
in the East Indies 5 a city of the kingdom of Bantam
in the island of Java. See Java.
BATAVORUM INSULA, the island of the Bata¬
vians, in Ancient Geography. Of this island Tacitus
gives the following description. “ The Rhine flowing
in one channel, or only broken by small islands, is divi¬
ded, at its entering Batavia, as it were into two rivers.
One continues its course through Germany, retaining
the same name, and violent current, till it falls into the
ocean. The other washing the coast of Gaul, with a
broader and more gentle stream, is called by the inha¬
bitants Vahalis; which name it soon changes for that
of Mosa, by the immense mouth of which river it dis¬
charges itself into the same ocean.” According to
I acitus, therefore, the island of the Batavians "Was
bounded by the ocean, the Rhine, and the Vahalis,
now the IFlie. Csesar extends it to the Mosa, or
Meuse; but Pliny agrees with Tacitus. However, this
island was of greater extent in Tacitus’s time than in
Caesar’s ; Drusus, the father of Germanicus, having
by a new canal conveyed the waters of the Rhine into
the ocean a considerable way north of the former mouth
of that river. The Batavi were a branch of the Catti,
who in a domestic sedition, being expelled their coun¬
try, occupied the extremity of the coast of Gaul, at
that time uninhabited, together with this island situated
among shoals. Their name Batavi they carried with
them from Germany $ there being some towns in the
territory of the Catti called Battenbeig, and Batten-
hausen. The bravery of the Batavi, especially the
3 M horse,
Eatavorum
li
Bates.
BAT r 453 ] BAT
horse, procured tliem not only great honour from the
Romans, being called their brothers and friends ; but
an exception from taxes, being obliged only to furnish
men and arms. The modern name of this island is
JSetu or Betaw.
Batavorum Oppidvm, in Ancient Geography, a
town in the island of the Batavi, mentioned by Tacitus,
without any particular name ; which has given rise to
several surmises about it, some supposing it to be Nimc-
gi/en, but Cluverius, Batavach/n/m or Batemburg, both
without the island *, which situation renders both these
places inadmissible, since Tacitus places this nameless
town within the island.
BATCHELOR. See Bachelor.
BATE, George, an eminent physician, born at
Maid’s Morton, near Buckingham, in the year 1608.
In 1629 he obtained a license, and for some years
practised in and about Oxford : his practice was chiefly
amongst the Puritans, who at that time considered him
as one of their party. In 1637, he took his degree
of doctor in physic, and became very eminent in his
profession, so that when King Charles kept his court at
Oxford, he was his principal physician. When the
king’s affairs declined, Dr Bate removed to London,
where he accommodated himself so well to the times,
that he became physician to the Charter-house, fellow of
the college of physicians, and afterwards principal phy¬
sician to Oliver Cromwell. Upon the Restoration, he
got into favour with the royal party, was made principal
physician to the king, and fellow of the Royal Society j
and this, we are told, was owing to a report raised on
purpose by his friends, according to Mr Wood, that he
gave the protector a dose which hastened his death. Dr
Bate wrote in Latin an account of the late commotions
in England, and some other pieces. He died at his
house in Hatton-garden, and was buried at Kingston
upon Thames in Surry.—There was another George
Bate, who wrote a work entitled, “The Lives, Actions,
and Execution, of the prime Actors and principal Con¬
trivers of that horrid Murther of our late pious and sa¬
cred King Charles I.”
BATENITES, a sect of apostates from Mahome¬
tanism, dispersed through the East, who professed the
same abominable practices W'ith the Ismaelians and Kar-
matians. The word properly signifies esoteric, or peo¬
ple of inward or hidden light.
BATES, Wn xiam, D. D. an eminent Presbyterian
divine, born in November 1625. He was admitted in
Emanuel college, Cambridge, and from thence removed
to King’s college in 1644. He was one of the com¬
missioners, at the conference in the Savoy, for review¬
ing the public liturgy, and w'as concerned in drawing
up the exceptions against the Common Prayer : how¬
ever, soon after the Restoration, he was appointed chap¬
lain to King Charles II. and became minister of St
Dunstan’s in the West, but was deprived of that bene¬
fice for nonconformity. Dr Bates bore a good and ami¬
able character 5 and was honoured with the friendship of
the lord keeper Bridgman, the lord chancellor Finch,
the earl of Nottingham, and Archbishop Tillotson. He
was offered, at the Restoration, the deanery of Litch¬
field ; which he refused. He published Select Lives
of illustrious and pious persons, in Latin •, and since his
death, all his w'orks, except his Select Lives, have been
2
printed in one volume in folio. He died in July 14.
1699, in the 74th year of his age. Bath.
BATH, a city of Somersetshire in England, seated '"“—v—■
in W. Long. 1. 30. N. Lat. 51. 27. All the different
names that this city has borne in different ages and
languages have been taken from its medicinal waters,
as the v^ocrx or “ hot waters,” of Ptolemy ; the
Aquce Solis, or “ wraters of the sun,” of Antoninus ;
the Caer Baden, and Caer Ennant, i. e. “ the city of
baths,” and “ the city of ointment,” of the Britons 5
and the Aekmanchester, i. e. “ the city of valetudina¬
rians,” of the Saxons. The baths consist of the King’s
bath, the Queen’s bath, the Cross-bath, the Hot-bath,
the Leper’s bath, and the duke of Kingston’s bath.
This place was of old a resort only for cripples and
diseased persons 5 but nowit is more frequented by the
sound for pleasure than by the sick for health. The
waters are very pleasant to the taste 5 and impregnated
with a vitriolic principle, yielding, upon evaporation,
a little neutral salt, and a calcareous earth and iron.
They are very efficacious in strengthening the bowels
and stomach, bracing the relaxed fibres, and invigora¬
ting the circulation. In bilious complaints they are
counted specific ; and proved serviceable in most ner¬
vous, paralytic, rheumatic, and gouty, complaints. At
the King’s bath is a handsome pump-room, where the
gentlemen and ladies go in a morning to drink the wa¬
ters ; and there is a band of music that plays all the
time. In the Cross-bath is a monument of marble,
representing the descent of the Holy Ghost attended
by angels, erected by the earl of Melfort (who was se¬
cretary of state for Scotland) when King James II.
met his queen here. The King’s bath is a large bason
of 65 feet 10 inches by 40 feet 10 inches, 'containing
346 tons 2 hogsheads and 36 gallons of water when
filled to its usual height. In the middle is a wooden
building with niches and seats for the accommodation
of the bathers. There are also iron rings all round
for them to hold by ; and guides, both male and fe¬
male, to attend them in the bath. The person intend¬
ing to bathe puts on, at his own lodgings, a bathing
dress of brown canvas hired for the purpose j and is
carried in a close chair, of a particular make, to one of
the slips which open into the bath. There he descends
by steps into the water, where he is attended by a
guide. Having staid his stated time in the bath, he
ascends again into the slip, where he puts off his ba¬
thing-dress, and being wrapt up in blankets, is carried
home to bed, where lie lies for some lime to encourage
perspiration. The King’s bath is overlooked by the
company in the pump-room ; and adjoining to it are
places furnished with pumps to pour the hot streams on
any particular part of the body*. The Queen’s bath
communicates with the King’s, from which it is filled j
therefore the water of it is not so hot, being at a greater
distance from the source. As the heat is here more
moderate, the bathers descend first into the Queen’s
hath, and advance gradually to the centre of the other.
In the year 1755, the abbey-house or priory, belong¬
ing to the duke of Kingston, was taken down, in order
to erect a more commodious pile of building ; and m
digging for the foundation, the workmen discovered,
about twenty feet below the surface of the earth, the
remains of Roman baths and sudatories constructed up¬
on
B A T [ 459 1 BAT
Bith on an elegant plan, with floors suspended on pillars,
—Y—and surrounded with tubulated bricks, for the convey¬
ance of heat and vapour. These were supplied by a
spring of hot water, of the same properties and tempe¬
rature with those of the King’s-bath ; and the sewer
was found still entire, that conveyed the waste water
into the river. The duke, having cleared the spring
and the sewer, has erected several convenient baths and
sudatories on the spot, where invalids may be accommo¬
dated at all hours, by night as well as by day. The
two seasons are the spring and fall ; but those who take
the waters purely for their health do not regard the
seasons, but drink them all the year round. There are
a number of genteel sedan chairs, which carry people
to any distance, not exceeding half a mile, for sixpence.
The company assemble in the afternoon alternately at
two stately rooms, to converse together, or play at
cards. At a very pretty new theatre near the parades,
plays are acted every other night; and there are bails
twice a-week ; for which and the rooms, and books at
the libraries, the gentry generally subscribe. The city
is surrounded with hills on all sides, except a little
opening to the east and west, through which the Avon
runs. This river, which has been made navigable to
Bristol by act of parliament, washes the city on the
east and south sides, and there is an elegant bridge over
it. This city hath formerly had a slight wall, of which
some part still remains, as well as one or two of its
gates ; but almost all the new buildings, and much the
greatest and finest part of the city, is without the walls,
particularly the fine square called Queeri1 s-square, in
the middle of which is a small garden, with gravel
walks, and an obelisk in the centre. But the greatest
ornament at Bath is the circus: it is of a circular
form, consisting of houses built on an uniform plan,
with three openings at equal distances to the south,
east, and west, leading into as many streets. The
fronts of the houses, which are all three stories high,
are adorned with three rows of columns in pairs, of the
Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders, the frize em¬
bellished with sculpture. The whole has an air of mag¬
nificence, which cannot fail to strike the most indifferent
spectator. In the centre of the area is a reservoir, or
bason, filled by two or three springs rising in the neigh¬
bouring hills $ whence the streets in this district are
supplied with water. On the south side of the town
are the north and south parades, two noble walks,
paved with hewn stone, raised upon arches, facing each
an elegant row of houses on one side, and having a stone
balustrade on the other. These, with the two streets
that join them, were planned and executed by one
Mr Wood, an able architect, who likewise built the
square and projected the circus. The two public
rooms stand 'betwixt the north parade and Orange-
grove ; which last is a square planted with trees, hav¬
ing in the middle a stone obelisk, inscribed in Latin
to the late prince of Orange, who recovered his health
in consequence of drinking the Bath waters, and gave
his name to this part of the town. Several new streets
and rows have of late years been built on the north
side of Bkth, in the neighbourhood of the square, such
as Gay-street, Milsom-street, Edgar-row, Harlequin-
row, Bladud’s-buildings, King’s-mead-street, and Brock-
street. Their advantages for building here are very
great, having excellent freestone, limestone, and slate,
in the neighbourhood. One sort of their lime is as Batk.
white as snow. The guild-hall of Bath stands in the
market-place, and is said to be built on a plan of Inigo
Jones, which, however, exhibits nothing worthy of that
great architect: besides, one end of it has been rebuilt
in a different style. The hall is ornamented with some
portraits of the late prince of Wales and other remark¬
able personages; but the greatest curiosity of the place
is a Minerva’s head in bronze, a real antique, dug up
in Stall-street, in the year 1725. Bath boasts a noble
infirmary, or general hospital, for the reception of
the sick and lame from all parts of the three king¬
doms. It extends 100 feet in front, and 90 in depth,
being capable of receiving 150 paiients. Here was
anciently a monastery, of which the present cathedral
was the church. It is a venerable pile : the principal
front of which is adorned with angles ascending and
descending. There are three other churches in Bath,
and several chapels and meeting-houses. Besides the
infirmary, there are several other hospitals, alms¬
houses, and charity schools. The corporation consists
of a mayor; eight aldermen, of whom two are justices
of the peace; and 24 common-council men. The
city is extremely well provided with stage coaches,
post coaches, chaises, machines, and waggons. Bath
is the general hospital of the nation, and a great num¬
ber of invalids find benefit from the waters : but as the
city lies in a bottom surrounded by very high hills, the
air is constantly surcharged with damps; and indeed
this place is more subject to rain than most other parts
in England. The markets are remarkably well supplied
with provisions of all kinds at reasonable rates, par¬
ticularly fish and poultry. They also afford excellent
mutton fed upon Lansdown, one of the highest hills
that overlook the city. This down, remarkable for its
pure air, extends about three miles; and at the extre¬
mity of it there is a stone monument, with an inscrip¬
tion, erected to the memory of Sir Beville Granville,
who was here killed in a battle which he fought with
the parliament’s army in the reign of Charles I. Bath
sends two members to parliament. The earldom of
Bath was bestowed on William Pultney in the end of
Sir Robert Walpole’s administration, but is now extinct.
The population varies of course considerably, but is es¬
timated on a mean at 38,000.
Bath is joined with Wells to form a bishopric, called
the diocese of Bath and Wells. The bishop’s seat is at
Wells, whose cathedral church was built by Ina, king
of the West Saxons in 704, and by him dedicated to
St Andrew. Several other of the West Saxon kings
endowed it, and it was erected into a bishopric in 905,
during the reign of King Edward the Elder. The
present church was begun by Robert the 18th bishop
of this see, and completed by his immediate successor.
John de Villula, the 16th bishop, having purchased the
city of Bath for 500 merks of King Henry I. trans¬
ferred his seat to that city in 1088. From this, dis¬
putes arose between the monks of Bath and the canons
of Wells, about the election of a bishop ; but they were
at last compromised by Robert the 18th bishop, who
decreed, that from henceforward the bishop should he
styled from both places, and that the precedency should
be given to Bath ; that in the vacancy of the see, the
bishop should be elected by a certain number of dele¬
gates from both churches; and that he should be in-
3 M 2 stalled
BAT [ 460 ] BAT
Bath. stalled in them both ; both of’ them to constitute the
—'Y~“—^ bishop’s chapter ; and all his grants and patents to be
confirmed in both. So it stood till the Reformation.
But in the 35th of King Henry VIII. an act of par¬
liament passed for the dean and chapter of Wells to
make one sole chapter for the bishop. This diocese
hath yielded to the church of Rome one cardinal, and
to the civil state of England six lord chancellors, five
lord treasurers, one lord privy seal, one lord president
of Wales, and principal secretary of state. The dio¬
cese contains the whole county of Somerset, except a
few churches in the city of Bristol ; the number of pa¬
rishes amounting to 388, and the churches and cha¬
pels to 503. Of the parishes 160 are impropriate. It
is valued in the king’s books at 535I. is. 3d. and
computed to be worth annually 2200I. The clergy’s
tenth is 353I. 18s. o^d. To the cathedral belong a
bishop, a dean, three archdeacons, a chancellor, a trea¬
surer, a sub-dean, fifty-nine prebendaries, four priest-
vicars, eight lay vicars, an organist, six choristers, and
other officers.
Knights of the Bath, a military order in England,
concerning the origin of which antiquaries differ in
their accounts. The most probable deduction seems to
be the following.
1 he knighthood of the Bath is supposed to have
been practised by the ancient Franks, the inhabitants
of Lower Germany, with whom it is highly probable
the Saxons, who invaded England, had the same com¬
mon descent, and, with other customs, upon their set-
ling here, inti’oduced the same method of knighthood.
rihe3e ancient Franks, when they conferred knight¬
hood, observed, amongst other solemn rites, bathing
before they performed their vigils ; which custom con¬
tinues to be practised in England : they were from
thence denominated Knights of the Bath.
In the reign of Henry IV. there was a degree of
knighthood specified under the express appellation of
the Bath. That king, on the day of his coronation
in the tower of London, conferred the same upon 46
esquires, who had watched all the night before, and
had bathed themselves. From that time it was custo«
mary with eur kings to confer this dignity preceding
their coronations, the coronations of their queens, the
birth and Carriage of the royal issue, and their first
advancement to honours, upon their designed expedi¬
tions against their foreign enemies, upon installations
of knights of the Garter, and when some grand anni¬
versary festivals were celebrated. The last knights of
the Bath so made were at the coronation of King
Charles II. in 1661 j after which the order was ne¬
glected until die year 1725, when George I. was plea¬
sed to revive it, and to order a book of statutes for the
government of the order. By this the number of
knights is fixed to 38, viz. the sovereign, and 37
knights-companions.
The apparel of a knight of the Bath is a red sur-
coat, lined and edged with white, girded about with
a white girdle, without any ornament thereon ; the
mantle is of the same colour and lining, made fast a-
bout the neck with a lace of white silk, having a pair
of white gloves tied therein, with tassels of silk and
gold at the end ; which mantles are adorned upon the
left shoulders with the ensign of the order, being three
imperial crowns or, surrounded with the ancient mot-
3
to of this knighthood, Tria juncta in uno, wrought
upon a cirdte gules, with a glory or rays issuing from
the centre, and under it the lace of white silk hereto¬
fore worn by the knights of the Bath. They have
red breeches and stockings, and have white hats, with
a plume of white feathers thereon. The king allowed
the chapel of King Henry VII. to be the chapel of
the order, and ordered that each knight’s banner,
with plates of his arms and style, should be placed over
their several stalls, in like manner as the knights of
the Garter in St George’s chapel in the castle of Wind¬
sor *, and he allowed them supporters to their arms. His
Royal Highness Prince William, second son to the
prince of Wales, on this occasion, was made the first
knight-companion, and his grace the duke of Mon¬
tague grand master of the order, the dean of Westmin¬
ster (for the time being) dean of the order 5 the other
officers of which are, Bath king of arms, a genealo¬
gist, register and secretary, gentleman usher, and mes¬
senger.
Bath.
Bath, Balneum, a convenient receptacle of water
for persons to wash or plunge in, either for health or
pleasure.—Baths are distinguished into hot and cold;
and these again are either natural or artificial. The
natural hot baths are formed of the water of hot
springs, of which there are many in different parts of
the world ; especially in those countries where there
are or have evidently been volcanoes. The artificial
hot baths consist either of water or of some other fluid
made hot by art. The cold bath consists of water,
either fresh or salt, in its natural degree of heat; or it
may be made colder by art, as by a mixture of nitre,
sal-ammoniac, &c. The chief hot baths in our coun¬
try are those of Bath and Bristol, in Somersetshire ;
and those others of Buxton and Matlock, in Derby¬
shire ■, which latter, however, are rather warm or te¬
pid than hot. The use of these baths is found benefi¬
cial in diseases of the head, as palsies, &c. in cuticu-
lar diseases, as leprosies, &c. obstructions and consti¬
pations of the bowels, the scurvy and stone, and in
most diseases of women and children. The baths have
performed many cures, and are commonly used as a
last remedy in obstinate chronic diseases ; where they
succeed well, if they agree with the constitution of the
patient : but whether they will agree or not, cannot be
known without trial.
As to the origin of those hot waters, of which the
natural hot baths are formed, we are very much in the
dark. All that can be affirmed with certainty is, that
where there are volcanoes, there also there are hot
springs in great abundance ; but how the heat of the
volcano should be constantly communicated to the wa¬
ters of a spring for many ages, during a great part of
which the volcano itself has lain in a dormant state,
seems almost beyond the reach of investigation. Ano¬
ther thing that creates a great difficulty is, that the
fire of a volcano must certainly lie very deep in the
earth, and most probably shifts from place to place j
but the waters of a spring must always issue from a
place situated lower than the origin of the spring itself.
Besides, though we should suppose the water to come
from the top of a volcano itself, and consequently boil¬
ing hot, it could not be supposed to percolate far
through cold earth, without losing all the heat it ac¬
quired from the volcano. From some observations,
however,
BAT _ [ 4<n ] BAT
however, it certainly does appear, that there are some
spots on the earth which have a power of producing
heat within themselves, independent of any thing fo¬
reign ; and that water is so far from being able to de¬
stroy this power, that it seems rather to promote and
continue it. We know that water hath this effect up¬
on a mixture of iron filings and sulphur 5 but whatever
quantities of similar substances we may suppose to he
contained in the earth, we must also suppose to be de¬
stroyed by one great conflragation soon after they have
begun to act upon each other, so that by their means
no lasting heat in rvaters could be produced. Dr Stuke-
ly indeed would solve this, and several other pheno¬
mena, by making the fire and smoke of volcanoes the
effects of electricity : but here sufficient proof is want
ing $ for electricity, even in its most powerful state, is
not very apt to set bodies on fire. The thought, how¬
ever, deserves attention ; for if electricity is capable
of setting a volcano on fire, it is undoubtedly capable
of producing solfaterras where it meets with proper
materials, and from them springs of any degree of
heat.
The cold bath is found one of the most universal and
innocent remedies yet discovered, though still its use is
not to be adopted without precautions.
Baths in vapour, the fume or steam of some de¬
coction is received upon the body to promote a per¬
spiration.—Those are also by some called Balnea La-
conica.
Vapour baths are, when the patient is not plunged
into what is prepared for the bath, but only receives its
steam upon those parts of his body which require it: as
in some distempers of the fundament and womb, where
the patient sits and receives the fumes of some proper
fomentation, &c. To these may be added the bagnio 5
where people are made to sweat by the heat of a room,
and pouring on of hot water ; after which they general¬
ly go into a hot bath or bagnio.
A peculiar sort of vapour-bath was much used by
the ancient Mexicans, and is still in use among the
present Indians their descendants. According to the
abbe Clavigero, these baths are built of raw bricks,
and their form is similar to that of ovens for baking
bread : but with this difference, that the pavement of
the bath is a little convex, and lower than the surface
of the earth ; whereas that of most ovens is plain, and
a little elevated for the accommodation of the baker.
The greatest diameter of a bath is about eight feet,
and its greatest height six. The entrance, like the
mouth of an oven, is wide enough to allow a man to
creep easily in. In the place opposite to the entrance
there is a furnace of stone or raw bricks, with its mouth
outwards to receive the fire, and a hole above it to
carry off the smoke. The part which unites the fur¬
nace to the bath, and which is about two feet and a
half square, is shut with a certain dry stone of a porous
texture. In the upper part of the vault there is an air¬
hole, like that to the furnace. This is the usual struc¬
ture of the temazcalli; but there are others that are
without vault or furnace, mere little square chambers,
yet well covered and defended from the air.—When
any person goes to bathe, he first lays a mat within
the temazcalli, a pitcher of water, and a bunch of
herbs or leaves of maize. He then causes a fire to be
made in the furnace, which is kept burning until the
stones which join the bath and furnace are quite hot.
.The person who is to use the bath enters commonly
naked, and generally accompanied for the sake of con ¬
venience, or on account of infirmity, by one of his do¬
mestics. As soon as he enters, he shuts the entrance
close, but leaves the air-hole at top for a little time
open, to let out any smoke which may have been intro¬
duced through the chinks of the stone ; when it is all
out he likewise stops up the air-hole. He then throw's
water upon the hot stones, from which immediately
arises a thick steam to the top of the temazcalli. W7hile
the sick person lies upon the mat, the domestic drives
the vapour downwards, and gently beats the sick per¬
son, particularly on the ailing part, with the bunch of
herbs which are dipped for a little while in the water
of the pitcher, which has then become a little warm.
I he sick person falls immediately into a soft and copi¬
ous sweat, which is increased or diminished at plea¬
sure, according as the case requires. When the eva¬
cuation desired is obtained, the vapour is let off, the
entrance is cleared, and the sick person clothes himself,
or is transported on the mat to his chamber \ as the en¬
trance to the bath is usually within some chamber of
his habitation.—This sort of bath, called tema%calli by
the natives, has been regularly used in several disor¬
ders, particularly in fevers occasioned by costiveness.
1 he Indian women use it commonly after childbirth,
and also those persons who have been stung or wounded
by any poisonous animal. It is undoubtedly a power¬
ful remedy for all those who have occasion to carry off
gross humours ; and certainly it would be most useful
in Italy, where the rheumatism is so frequent and af¬
flicting. When a very copious sweat is desired, the
sick person is raised up and held in the vapour ; as he
sweats the more nearer he is to it. The temazcalli is
so common, that in every place inhabited by the In¬
dians there are many of them.
Baths, Dry, are those made of ashes, salt, sand,
shreds of leather, and the like.—The ancients had di¬
vers ways of sweating by a dry heat ; as by the means
of a hot sand, stove-rooms, or artificial bagnios, and
certain natural hot steams of the earth, received under
a proper arch, or hot-house, as we learn from Celsus.
They had also another kind of bath by insolation, where
the body was exposed to the son for some time, in order
to draw forth the superfluous moisture from the inward
parts ; and to this day it is a practice in some nations
to bury the body over with horse-dung, especially in
chronical diseases, to digest and breathe out the hu¬
mour that causes the distemper. In New England they
make a kind of stoves of turf, wherein the sick are shut
up to bathe or sweat.
The same name is sometimes also given to another
kind of bath, made of kindled coals, or burning spirit
of wine ; the patient being placed in a convenient close
chair for the reception of the fume, which rises and
provokes sweat in a plentiful manner: care is here taken
to keep the head out, and to secure respiration. This
bath has been found very effectual in removing old ob¬
stinate pains in the limbs ; and venereal complaints j
and will often complete a cure left unperformed by sa¬
livation.
Sqme authors speak of bloody baths, balnea sangui-
nolenta^ ^
BAT [ 462
iiolenta, prepared especially of the blood of infants,
anciently supposed to be a kind of specific lor the le¬
prosy
]
BAT
Baths, Metalline, those made of water impregnated
with the scorice of metals. The most common and use¬
ful of this kind are those prepared with the scoria; of
iron, which abound with the earthy, saline, and sul¬
phureous substance of the metal 5 and these are ot ex¬
cellent service for strengthening and bracing up the
part to which they are applied, and recovering weak
and decayed limbs ; stopping various kinds of bleeding;
and restoring the menstrual and hemorrhoidal flux where
obstructed ; insomuch that they may well be substituted
for the natural iron baths.
Adjacent to the smelting huts where metals are run
from their ore, are to be found large quantities of the
slag of copper, antimony, and cobalt, which abound¬
ing with sulphur, vitriolic salt, and an earthy principle,
make serviceable baths for strengthening the lost tone
of the fibres, and relaxing them when they are too
stiff. These baths have likewise a detersive and clean¬
sing virtue; so that with prudence, and due regard to
circumstances, they may be used on many occasions.
The way of making these artificial baths is, either to
take the slags as they come hot from the furnace, or
else to heat them afresh, and throw them into hot wa¬
ter ; which is afterwards to be used either in the way
of bath, or fomentation, occasionally. There are other
artificial baths, prepared of alum and quicklime, by
boiling them together in fine rain-water. Such baths
are highly serviceable in paralytic disorders and weak¬
ness of the limbs.
The pepper bath, or peffer wasser, on the Alps, is
one of the most celebrated in Europe, and has been the
subject of particular treatises, besides what has been
said of it occasionally by Scheuchzer and others. It
was first discovered in the year I 240, and is of the pe¬
riodical kind. The water breaks forth in a dreadful
place, scarce accessible to the sunbeams, or indeed to
men, unless of the greatest boldness, and such as are
not in the least subject to dizziness. These baths have
this singularity above all others, that they commonly
break forth in May, and that with a sort of impetuosi¬
ty, bringing with them beech leaves, crabs or other
wood-fruit; and that their course desists in September
or October. Scheuchzer professes himself of opinion,
that these waters are not impregnated with any mine¬
rals, or, if they do contain any, that their virtues in
curing distempers and preserving health do not proceed
from them. They are exceedingly clear, destitute of
colour, taste, or smell.
Baths, Balnea, in Architecture, denote large pom¬
pous buildings among the ancients, erected for the sake
of bathing. Baths made a part of the ancient
though they were frequented more for the sake of plea¬
sure than health.
The most magnificent baths were those of Titus,
Paulus iEmilius, and Dioclesian, of which there are
some ruins still remaining. It is said that at Rome
there were 856 public baths. Fahricius adds, that
the excessive luxury of the Romans appeared in no¬
thing more visible than in their baths. Seneca com¬
plains, that the baths of plebeians were filled from
silver pumps; and that the freed men trod on gems.
Macrobius tells us of one Sergius Oratus, a voluptuary,
who had pendant baths hanging in the air. ' u
According to Dion, Maecenas was the first who made
a bath at Rome ; yet there are instances of public baths
prior to this ; but they were of cold water, small, and
poorly decorated. Agrippa, in his gedilate, built 160
places for bathing, where the citizens might be accom¬
modated, either with hot or cold gratis. After this
example, Nero, Vespasian, Titus, Domitian, Severus,
Gordian, Aurelian, Maximian, Dioclesian, and most of
the emperors who studied to gain the affections of the
people, erected baths laid with the richest marble, and
wrought according to the rules of the most delicate
architecture. The rich had baths at home, ami fre¬
quently very magnificent ones, especially after the time
that the practice of pillaging the provinces had begun;
but they only used them on extraordinary occasions.
The great men, and even emperors themselves, some¬
times bathed in public with the rest of the people.
Alexander Severus was the first who allowed the public
baths to be opened in the night-time during the heats
of summer.
The Greek baths were usually annexed to palestrce
or gymnasia, of which they were considered as a p \rt.
Th ese baths consisted of seven different apartments,
usually separated from each other, and intermixed with
other buildings belonging to the other sorts of exercises.
These were, 1st, The cold bath, frigida lavatio; 2dlv,
The elceothesium, or room where they were anointed with
oil; 3dly, The frigidarium, or cooling room; 4thly,
The propnigeum, or entrance of the hypocaustum or
stove ; 5thly, The vaulted room for sweating in, or va¬
pour-bath, called concamerata sudatio, or tepidarivm;
6thiy, The laconicum, or dry stove; ythly, The hot
bath, called callida lavatio.
As for the baths separate from the palestra, they
appear to have been usually double, one for men, the
other for women ; but so near, that the same furnace
heated both. The middle part was possessed by a large
bason that received water by several pipes, and was
surrounded by a balustrade, behind which there was an
area for the reception of those who waited to use the
bath. They were vaulted over, and only received light
from the top.
In the Roman baths, the first part that appeared
was a large bason, called tcoXvg.Zni^oe. in Greek, and na-
tatio or piscina in Latin. In the middle was the hy¬
pocaustum, which had a row of four apartments on each
side, called halnearia: these were the stove, the bath,
cold bath, and tepidarium. The two stoves, called
laconicum and tepidarium, were circular and joined to¬
gether. Their floor was hollow and suspended, in or¬
der to receive the heat of a large furnace, which was
communicated to the stoves through the vacuities of
their floor. This furnace also heated another room
called vasarium, in which were three large brazen ves¬
sels called milliaria, respectively containing hot, warm,
and cold water; which were so disposed, that the wa¬
ter might be made to pass by syphons and pipes out of
one or other of them into the bath, in order to adjust
its temperature. The description is given by Vitruvi¬
us. At three in the afternoon, which is what Plmv
calls hora octava et nona, the Romans all repaired to
the baths, either the public or the private ones: this
BAT [ 463 ] BAT
was called the bath hour, horn balnei, which in winter
j vvas at nine, in summer at eight. The public baths were
all opened at the sound ot a bell, and always at the same
hour. Those who came too late, stood a chance for
bathing in cold water.
They began with hot water ; after which, as the
pores were now opened, and might give room for too
plentiful a perspiration, they thought it necessary for
their health to close them again, either with the cold
bath, or at least with a sprinkling of cold water. Du¬
ring the bath, the body was scraped with a kind of
knives, or small strigils, such as are still found in tiie
cabinets of the curious. After bathing succeeded
unction and perfuming, from which they went fresh to
supper.
The Romans, when they found their stomachs over¬
charged with meat, went to the bath, as we learn from
Juvenal, who inveighs against those who, having gorged
themselves with eating, were forced to go into the baths
to give themselves relief. They found also that a bath
was good to refresh themselves after some consider¬
able fatigue or travel, as Celsus tells us ; which makes
Plautus say, that all the baths in this world were not
sufficient to remove the weariness he felt. After Pom-
pey’s time, the humour of bathing was carried to great
excess, by which many were ruined, several having
brought themselves to such a pitch, that they could not
bear food without bathing first. The emperor Titus is
said to have lost his life thereby. Hence Pliny inveighs
severely against those physicians who held, that hot
baths digested the food. The emperor Hadrian first
laid a restraint on the immoderate humour of bathing,
by a public edict, prohibiting all persons to bathe be¬
fore the eighth hour.
Baths of Agrippa, (thermo: Agrippince,') were built
of brick, but painted in enamel: those of Nero, thermce
Net'oniatice, were not only furnished with fresh water,
but even had the sea brought into them : those of Ca-
racalla were adorned with 200 marble columns, and
furnished with 1600 seats of the same matter. Lipsius
assures us they were so large, that 1800 persons might
conveniently bathe in them at the same time. But the
baths of Dioclesian, thermce Dioclesiatoe, surpassed all
the rest in magnificence. One hundred and forty thou¬
sand men w'ere employed many years in building them.
Great part of these, as well as those of Caracalla, are
stiH’standing •, and with the vast high arches, the beau¬
tiful and stately pillars, the extraordinary plenty of fo¬
reign marble, the curious vaulting of the roofs, the pro¬
digious number of spacious apartments, and a thousand
other ornaments, make one of the greatest curiosities
ol modern Koine.
B^th, in Chemistry. Several kinds of apparatus em¬
ployed to transmit heat are called baths j but the sub¬
stances most frequently used by chemists for this pur¬
pose are water and sand. When water is employed, it
is called Balneum Mar ice, or water hath; which is very
much used, very convenient for many operations, and
niay be employed successfully for all degrees of beat
inferior to that of boiling w-ater. As water, when ex¬
posed to fire in any vessel from which it can evaporate;
does only receive a determinate degree of heat, which
always remains the same when once it has arrived at
the boiling heat, it follows, that by the water bath, a
degree of heat always equal may be transmitted with
certainty. Farther, this degree of heat being Inca- Bath,
pahle of burning, or of communicating an empyren- Bath Kol.
matic quality to matters susceptible of it, the water sr-—*
bath has also the advantage of not exposing substances
to this inconvenience. When vessels in which distilla¬
tions and digestions are made, are placed in sand, then
a sand bath is formed. This intermediate substance of
sand is very convenient, to moderate the too great ac¬
tivity of the naked fire, and to transmit any degree of
heat, from the weakest to a red heat. As this bath is
attended with less trouble, and requires less apparatus
than the water bath, it is much used in laboratories.
Nothing is requisite for the sand hath, but an earthen
or iron vessel full of fine sand, which is fitted into a
furnace, and capable of containing the cucurbits, retorts,
matrasses, or other vessels containing the matter to be
operated upon.
Bath, in Metallurgy, is used to signify the fusion
of metallic matter in certain operations. In refining
or cupelling, for example, the metals are said to be in *
bath when they are melted. When gold is purified
by antimony, this semi-metal, melted, is called by some
the bath of gold; alchemists, who consider gold as the
king of metals, call antimony the bath of the king only;
because in fact gold only can resist the action of anti¬
mony.
Bath, in -Hebrew antiquity, a measure of capacity,
containing the tenth part of an omar, or seven gallons
and four pints, as a measure for things liquid ; or three
pecks and three pints, as a measure for things dry.
Bath-KoI, the daughter of a voice. So the Jews
call one of their oracles, which is frequently mentioned
in their books, especially the Talmud ; being a fanta¬
stical way of divination invented by the Jews them¬
selves, though called by them a revelation from God’s
will, which he made,to his chosen people, after all ver¬
bal prophecies had ceased in Israel. It was in fact a
method of divination similar to the sortes Virgiliance oi
the Heathens. For as, with them, the first words they
happened to dip into, in the works of that poet, were
a kind of oracle whereby they predicted future events ;
so with the Jews, when they appealed to Bath-kol, the
first words they heard from any man’s mouth were
looked upon as a voice from heaven, directing them in
the matter they inquired about. The Christians were
not quite free from this superstition, making the same
use of the book of the Scriptures as the Pagans did of
the works of Virgil. It was practised by Heraclius, em¬
peror of the east, in the beginning df the seventh cen¬
tury : for, being at war with Chosroes king of Persia,
and in doubt, after a successful campaign, where to
take up his winter quarters, he consulted the book of
the scriptures in this wav of divination, and was de¬
termined thereby. In France, it was the practice for
several ages to use this kind of divination at the con¬
secration of a bishop, in order to discover his life, man¬
ners, and future behaviour. This usage came into
England with the Norman conquest; for we are told,
that at the consecration of William, the second Nor¬
man bishop of the diocese of Norwich, the words which
first occurred on dipping into the Bible were, AW this
man, but Barrabas: soon after which, William died,
and Herbert de Lozinga, chief simony broker to King
William Rufus, succeeded him; at whose consecration
the words at which the Bible opened were the same
which
BAT [ 464 ] BAT
Uatii Kol which Jesus spoke to Judas the traitor j Friend, where-
|j fore art thou corned This circumstance so affected Her-
Uatlung, bert, that it brought him to a thorough repentance of
v his crime j in expiation of which he built the cathedral
church of Norwich, the first stone of which he laid in
the year 1096.
BATH A, Bath, or Bachia, a town of Hungary,
and capital of a county of the same name, seated on the
Danube. E. Long. 20. 40. N. Lat. 46. 40.
BATHING, the act of using or applying a bath ;
that is, of immerging the body, or part of it, in w'ater
or other fluid.
Bathing is a practice of great antiquity. The
Greeks, as early as the heroic age, are said to have ba¬
thed themselves in the sea, in rivers, &c. We even find
mention in Homer of hot baths in the Trojan times $
but these seem to have been very rare, and only used
on extraordinary occasions. Athenaeus speaks of hot
baths as unusual even in his age. In reality, public
baths appear to have been discouraged, and even prohi¬
bited, by the ancient Greeks, who were contented to
wash themselves at home in a sort of bathing tubs. The
method of bathing among the ancient Greeks was, by
heating water in a large vessel with three feet, and
thence pouring it on the head and shoulders of the per¬
son seated in a tub for that purpose, who at coming out
was anointed with oil.
The Homans were also long before they came into
the use of baths ; the very name of which, thermae,
shows they borrowed it from the Greeks. As the an¬
cient Romans were chiefly employed in agriculture,
their custom was, every evening after work, to wash
their arms and legs, that they might sit down to sup¬
per with more decency : for it is to be observed, the use
of linen was then unknown : and the people of that age
went with their arms and legs bare, and consequently
exposed to dust and filth. But this was not all; for
every ninth day, when they repaired to the city, ei¬
ther to the nundinae or to attend at the assemblies of
the people, they bathed all over in the Tiber, or some
other river which happened to be nearest them. This
seems to have been all the bathing known till the time
of Pompey, when the custom began of bathing every
day. See Bath.
The Celtic nations were not without the use of ba¬
thing: the ancient Germans bathed every day, in warm
water in winter, and in summer in cold. In England,
the famous bath in Somersetshire is said by some to
have been in use 800 years before Christ. Of this,
however, it must be owned, we have but very slender
evidence \ but Dr Musgrave makes it probable that it
was a place of considerable resort in Geta’s time ; there
being still the remains of a statue erected to that gene¬
ral, in gratitude for some benefactions he had conferred
upon it.
Although bathing, among the ancients, made, as
it were, a part of diet, and was used as familiarly as
eating or sleep ; yet it was in high esteem among their
physicians lor the cure of diseases, as appears from
Strabo, Pliny, Hippocrates, and Oribasius ; whence
frequent exhortations to washing in the sea, and plun¬
ging into cold water. The first instance of cold ba¬
thing, as a medicine, is Melampus’s bathing the daugh¬
ters of the king of Argos •, and the first instance of
warm bathing is Medea’s use of it, who was said to
boil people alive, because Pelias king of Thessaly died Bathiho
in a warm bath under her hands. The cold bath was ^ ■■ f
used with success by Antonius Musa, physician to the
emperor Augustus, for the recovery of that prince j but
fell into neglect after the death of Marcellus, who was
thought to have been destroyed by the improper use
of it. It was again brought into request towards
the close of the reign of Nero, by means of a physi¬
cian of Marseilles named Charmis; but during the ig¬
norance of the succeeding ages, the practice was again
banished for a long time.—Both hot and cold bathing
are now prescribed in many cases by the physicians,
though they are not agreed as to the manner in which
they operate on the human body. See Medicine
Index.
Bathing among the Turks, as among the ancients,
makes a part of diet and luxury j and in every town,
and even village, there is a public bath. Indeed, the
necessity of cleanliness, in a climate where one perspires
so copiously, has rendered bathing indispensable ; the
comfort it produces preserves the use of it j and Maho¬
met, who knew its utility, has reduced it to a precept.
Of these baths, and the manner of bathing, particularly
at Cairo, the following account is given by M. Savary
in his Letters on Egypt.
“ The first apartment one finds in going to the bath,
is a large hall, which rises in the form of a rotunda.
It is open at the top, to give a free circulation to the
air. A spacious estrade, or raised floor, covered with
a carpet, and divided into compartments, goes round
it, on which one lays one’s clothes. In the middle of
the building, a jet-d’eau spouts up from a bason, and
agreeably entertains the eye. When you are undressed,
you tie a napkin round your loins, take a pair of san¬
dals, and enter into a narrow passage, where you be¬
gin to be sensible of the heat. The door shuts to ;
and at 20 paces off, you open a second, and go along
a passage, which forms a right angle with the former.
Here the heat increases. They who are afraid of sud¬
denly exposing themselves to a stronger degree of it, stop
in a marble hall, in the way to the bath properly so
called. The bath is a spacious and vaulted apartment,
paved and lined with marble, around which there are
four closets. The vapour incessantly arising from a
fountain and cistern of hot water, mixes itself with the
burning perfumes. These, however, are never burnt
except the persons who are in the bath desire it. They
are mixed with the steam of the water, and produce a
most agreeable effect.
“ The bathers are not imprisoned here, as in Europe,
in a sort of tub, where one is never at one’s ease. Ex¬
tended on a cloth spread out, the head supported by a
small cushion, they stretch themselves freely in every
posture, whilst they are wrapped up in a cloud of odo¬
riferous vapours, which penetrate into all their pores.
After reposing there some time, until there is a gentle
moisture over the whole body, a servant comes, presses
you gently, turns you over, and when the limbs are
become supple and flexible he makes all the joints crack * « Mass"
without any difficulty. He masses * and seems to knead comes from
the flesh without making you feel the smallest pain.t^A^abic
This operation finished, he puts on a stuff glove, and-^:
rubs you a long time. During this operation, he de-^ggs
taches from the body of the patient, which is running touching ii'-
with sweat, a sort of small scales, and removes even a ddhm16
the manner-
BAT c 46s
athing. impsrcGptible dirt tlmt stops the pores. The skin
-v—becomes soft and smooth like satin. He then conducts
you into a closet, pours the lather of perfumed soap
upon your head, and withdraws. The ancients did
more honour to their guests, and treated them in a
more voluptuous manner. Whilst Telemachus was at
the court of Nestor, ‘ the beautiful Polycasta, the
handsomest of the daughters of :he king of Pylos, led
the son of Ulysses to the bath $ washed him with her
own hands j and, after anointing his body with preci¬
ous oils, covered him with rich habits and a splendid
cloak.’ Pisistratus and Telemachus were not worse
treated in the palace of Menelaus. “ When they had
admired its beauties, they were conducted to basons of
marble, where a bath was prepared: Beautiful fe¬
male slaves washed them; and, after anointing them
with oil, covered them with rich tunics and superb
pellices.
“ The closet to which one is conducted is furnished
with a cistern and two cocks 5 one for cold and the
other for hot water. There you wash yourself. Soon
after the servant returns with a depilatory pomatum,
which in an instant makes the hair fall off the places it
is applied to. Both men and women make general use
of it in Egypt. It is composed of a mineral called rvs-
ma ; which is of a deep brown. The Egyptians burn
it lightly, knead it with water, mixing it with half the
quantity of slaked lime. This grayish paste applied to
the hair, makes it fall oft’ in two or three minutes, with¬
out giving the slightest pain.
“ After being well washed and purified, you are
wrapped up in hot linen, and follow the guide through
the windings that lead to the outer apartment. This
insensible transition from heat to cold prevents one from
suffering any inconvenience from it. On arriving at
the estrade, you find a bed prepared for you ; and
scarcely are you laid down before a child comes to press
every part of your body with his delicate fingers, in
order to dry you thoroughly. You change linen a se¬
cond time, and the child gently grates the callosity of
your feet with pumice stone. He then brings you a pipe
and Moka coffee.
“ Coming out of a stove where one was surround¬
ed by a hot and moist fog, where the sweat gushed from
every limb, and transported into a spacious apartment
open to the external air, the breast dilates, and one
breathes with voluptuousness. Perfectly massed, and as
it were regenerated, one experiences an universal com¬
fort. The blood circulates with freedom ; and one feels
as if disengaged from an enormous weight, together
with a suppleness and lightness to which one has been
hitherto a stranger. A lively sensation of existence dif¬
fuses itself to the very extremities of the body. Whilst
it is lost in delicate sensations, the soul, sympathizing
with the delight, enjoys the most agreeable ideas. The
imagination, wandering over the universe, which it
embellishes, sees on every side the most enchanting pic¬
tures, everywhere the image of happiness. If life be
nothing but the succession of our ideas, the rapidity
with which they then recur to the memory, the vigour
with which the mind runs over the extended chain of
them, would induce a belief that in the two hours of
that delicious calm that succeeds the bath, one has lived
a number of years.”
Such are the baths, the use of which were so strong-
Vol. III. Part II. f
] BAT
ly recommended by the ancients, and which are still Bathinc'
the delight of the Egyptians. It is by means of them BathurstI
that they prevent or dispel rheumatisms, catarrhs, and -v*“—^
such cutaneous disorders as are produced by want of
perspiration. Hence likewise they find a radical curp
for that fatal evil which attacks the sources of genera¬
tion, the remedy for which is so dangerous in Europe.
By the same resource they get rid of that uncomfort¬
able feeling so common to all nations who do not pay
so much attention to the cleanliness of their bodies.~
M. Tournefort, indeed, who had used steam baths at
Constantinople, where there is less refinement in them
than at Cairo, is of opinion that they injure the breast.
But, according to M. Savary, this is an error which
further experience would have corrected. There are
no people who make more frequent use of them than
the Egyptians, and there is no country where there
are fewer asthmatic people. The asthma is scarcely
known there.
The women are passionately fond of these baths.
They frequent them at least once a-week, and take
with them slaves properly qualified for the purpose.
More luxurious than the men, they use rose-water.
It is there that female head-dressers form their long
black hair into tresses, which they mix with precious
essences instead of powder and pomatum. It is there
that they blacken the edge of their eye-lids, and length¬
en their eye-brows with cohel, a preparation of tin
burnt with gall-nuts $ it is there they stain the finger
and toe nails with the leaves of hennfc, a shrub common
in Egypt, and which gives them a golden colour. The
linen and clothing they make use of are passed through
the sweet steam of the wood of aloes j and when the
work of the toilet is at an end, they remain in the outer
apartment, and pass the day in entertainments. Females
entertain them with voluptuous songs and dances, or
tell them tales of love.
The medical effects of bathing are considered under
the article Bathing, in the Supplement.
BATHUHST, Ralph, M. D. an eminent physi¬
cian, poet, and divine, born in the year 1620. He
studied divinity in Trinity college, Oxford; but the
times of confusion coming on, he changed the course
of his studies, and applied himself to physic. He took
a doctor’s degree in that faculty; in which he rose to
such eminence, that he was in the time of the usurpa¬
tion, appointed physician to the state. Upon the Re¬
storation, he quitted his profession of physic; was elect¬
ed a fellow of the Royal Society, and president of his
college ; and having entered into holy orders, he was
made chaplain to the king, and afterwards dean of
Wells. Soon after, he served the office of vice-chan¬
cellor of Oxford, and was nominated by King William
and Queen Mary to the see of Bristol; which he refused
to accept. His learning and talents were various. He
was an orator, a philosopher, and a poet: he possessed
an inexhaustible fund of wit, and was a facetious com¬
panion at 80 years of age. Ridicule was the weapon
with which he used to correct the delinquents of his
college ; and he was so absolute a master of it, that he
had it always at hand. His poetical pieces in the Musa;
Anglican# are excellent in their kind. He wrote seve¬
ral poems, both in English and Latin ; and died June
14. 1704, in the 84th year of his age.
Bathurst, Alien, earl of Bathurst, one of the last
3 N worthies
BAT [ 466 ] BAT
Bathurst, worthies of Queen Anne’s reign, that shining period
'■ i* of triumphs, taste, genius, and elegance, was born in
the year 1684. His studies and his education vyere
equally conducive to the brilliant figure he was destined
to make in social life and in the senate, as a polite scho¬
lar, a patriot, and a statesman. These talents he had
an opportunity to display as early as the year I7°5 i
when, at the request of his father Sir Benjamin Ba¬
thurst, and the solicitation of the constituents of Ciren¬
cester, he served in parliament for that borough, his
native soil, with reputation and integrity. He distin¬
guished himself particularly in the struggles and de¬
bates relative to the union between the two kingdoms,
firmly supporting this measure, calculated to strengthen
the vigour of government by its uniting force. Though
he was contented to act a subordinate character in the
great opposition planned by Mr Harley and Mr St
John, his intimate friends, to sap the credit of the
duke of Marlborough and his adherents, he was of in¬
finite service to his party in arraigning, with spirit and
eloquence, the conduct of the general and the earl of
Godolphin, who had long governed the queen, and
lavished the treasures of the nation on conquests more
splendid than serviceable. The loss of the battle of
Almanza seconded his efforts to dispel the intoxication
of former successes. His personal regard for Lord
Somers, president of the council, was never altered,
though they were of different opinions in politics 5 and
when he was divested of his office, Mr Bathurst acted
with such tenderness and delicacy, as to preserve the
esteem of Lord Somers in a private station. In consi¬
deration of his zeal and services, the queen advanced
him, in 1711, to the dignity of a peer, by the title of
Baron Bathurst, of Battlesden, in Bedfordshire.
His lordship continued to speak his sentiments with
an undaunted freedom in the upper house 5 and stept
forth as a formidable opponent to the court measures
in the reign of George I. and during Sir Robert Wal¬
pole’s administration. The acrimony of the prosecu¬
tion carried on against the earl of Oxford, Lord Bo-
lingbroke, and the duke of Ormond, stimulated his in¬
dignation and his eloquence against such vindictive pro¬
ceedings j and he observed, “ that the king of a faction
was hut the sovereign of half his subjects.”
The South-sea scheme having infected the whole na¬
tion with a spirit of avaricious enterprise, the people
awaked from their delirium, and an infinite number of
families were involved in ruin. Lord Bathurst publicly
impeached the directors, whose arts had enabled them
by these vain expectations to amass surprising fortunes:
he represented that the national honour was concerned
in stripping them of their ill acquired wealth j and mo¬
ved for having all the directors of the South-sea com¬
pany punished by a forfeiture of their estates, for such
a notorious act of sordid knavery.
When the hill was brought into the house of lords
against Dr Atterhury bishop of Rochester, that learned
prelate, who joined to the graces of style and elocution
all the elegance of a just delivery ; among the many
friends, the bishop’s eloquence, politeness, and inge¬
nuity had procured him, was Lord Bathurt. He spoke
against the bill with great vehemence and propriety ;
observing, “ that if such extraordinary proceedings
were countenanced, he saw nothing remaining for him
and others to do, but to retire to their country-houses,
2
and there, if possible, quietly enjoy their estates with-
in their own families, since the least correspondence, or 1
intercepted letter, might be made criminal.” Then
turning to the bishops, he said, he “ could hardly ac¬
count for the inveterate hatred and malice some per¬
sons bore the ingenious bishop of Rochester, unless it
was that they were infatuated like the wild Americans,
who fondly believe they inherit not only the spoils, but
even the abilities, of the man they destroy.” He was
one of the lords who entered his protest against the
biH.
His lordship was entirely averse to continental con¬
nections ; and animadverted severely upon the monarch
whose thoughts were turned to foreign concerns and
alliances which could never be useful > complaining of
the immense sums lavished in subsidies to needy and
rapacious princes.
The directors of the charitable corporation having
embezzled 500,000!. of the proprietors capital, Lord
Bathurst declared in the house of lords, his abhor¬
rence of this most iniquitous scene of fraud ; asserting
that not one shilling of the money was ever applied to
the proper service, but became the reward of avarice
and venality.
His lordship concurred, with all his power, in the
opposition to Sir Robert Walpole, who now tottered on
the brink of ruin. This minister, after obstinate strug¬
gles, having been forced to resign all his employments.
Lord Bathurst was sworn of the privy council, and
made captain of the gentlemen pensioners, which post
he resigned in 1744. He was appointed treasurer to
the present king, then prince of Wales, in I757> an<^
continued in the list of privy-counsellors at his accession
to the throne ; but, on account of his great age, he
chose to enjoy otium cum drgnitate.
Lord Bathurst’s integrity gained him the esteem even
of his opponents $ and his humanity and benevolence,
the affection of all that knew him more intimately. He
added to his public virtues all the good breeding, po¬
liteness, and elegance, of social intercourse. Dr Freind,
Congreve, Vanbrugh, Swift, Prior, Rowe, Addison,
Pope, Arbuthnot, Gay, and most men of genius in his
own time, cultivated his friendship, and were proud of
his correspondence.
Pope, in his Epistle to him on the Use oi Riches,
thus addresses him :
The sense to value riches, with the art
T’enjoy them, and the virtue to impart j
To balance fortune by a just expence,
Join with economy magnificence •,
With splendor, charity j with plenty, health :
O teach us, Bathurst, yet unspoil’d by wealth !
That secret rare, between th’ extremes to move,
Of mad good nature, and of mean self-love.
And Sterne, in his letters to Eliza, thus speaks of
him : “ This nobleman is an old friend of mine : he
was always the protector of men of wit and genius $
and has had those of the last century always at his
table. The manner in which his notice began of me,
was as singular as it rvas polite.— He came up to me
one day as I was at the princess of Wales’s court. ‘ I
want to know you, Mr Sterne •, but it is fit you should
know also who it is that wishes this pleasure: you
have heard (continued he) of an old Lord Bathurst, of
whom
BAT [ 467
Bathurst whom your Popes and Swifts have sung and spoken so
]
BAT
much : I have lived my life with geniuses of that cast,
Batls‘ but have survived them j and despairing ever to find
v " ^ their equals, it is some years since I have closed my ac¬
counts, and shut up my books, with thoughts of never
opening them again: but you have kindled a desire in
me of opening them once more before I die, which I
now do: so go home, and dine with me.’ This noble¬
man, I say, is a prodigy : for at 85 he has all the wit
and promptness of a man of 30 j a disposition to be plea¬
sed, and a power to please others beyond whatever I
knew ! added to which, a man of learning, courtesy,
and feeling.”
His lordship, in the latter part of his life, preserved
his natural cheerfulness and vivacity, always accessible,
hospitable, and beneficent. Lately he delighted in ru¬
ral amusements $ and enjoyed, with a philosophical sa¬
tisfaction, the shade of the lofty trees he had planted
himself. Till within a month of his death he constantly
rode out on horseback two hours before dinner, and
constantly drank his bottle of claret or Madeira after
dinner. He used to declare, in a jocose manner, he
never could think of adopting Hr Cadogan’s method,
as Dr Cheyne had assured him, 50 years ago, he would
never live seven years longer unless he abridged him¬
self of his wine. Pursuant to this maxim, his lordship
having, some years ago, invited several of his friends
to spend a few cheerful days with him at his seat at
Cirencester, and being one evening very loth to part
with them; on his son the late chancellor’s objecting
to their sitting up any longer, and adding that health
and long life were best secured by regularity, he suffer¬
ed him to retire : but, as soon as he was gone, the
cheerful father said, “ Come, my good friends, since
the old gentleman is gone to bed, I think we may ven¬
ture to crack another bottle.”
His lordship was advanced to the dignity of earl
in 1772 j and lived to see the above nobleman, his eld¬
est son, several years lord high chancellor of Great
Britain, and promoted to the peerage in 1771 ^7
title of Baron Apsley. Lord Bathurst married Ca¬
tharine daughter of Sir Peter Apsley, by whom he had
two other sons and five daughters. His death happened,
after a few days illness, at his seat near Cirencester, in
the 91st year of his age, and on the 16th of September
BATHYLLUS and Pylades, inventors of panto¬
mime entertainments on the stage. Bathyllus succeed¬
ed in representing comedy j Pylades in tragedy. Ihe
art consisted in expressing the passions by gestures, at¬
titudes, and dumb show ; not, as in modern times, in
machinery, and the fooleries of Harlequin. They flou¬
rished at Rome, under Augustus, about A. D. 10. Each
of them kept scholars, who perpetuated their master’s
name : for the followers of Bathyllus, who excelled in
the comic part, called themselves Bathylh; and those
of Pylades, who excelled in the tragic, called them¬
selves Pyladce.
BAT1LLUS, a musical instrument made of metal,
in the form of a staff, furnished with metalline rings,
which being struck, yielded a kind of harmonical
sounds $ used by the Armenians in their church-ser¬
vice.
BATIS. See Botany Index.
Batiste
BATISTE, in commerce, a fine white kind of linen
cloth, manufactured in I1 landers and Picardy.
There are three kinds of batiste ; the first very thin j Batfee.
the second less thin j and the third much thicker, call- \r—
ed Holland. Batiste, as coming very near the goodness
of Hollands. They are used for neck-cloths, &c.
BATMAN, in commerce, a kind of weight used
at Smyrna, containing six okes of 400 drams each,
which amount to 16 pounds 6 ounces and 15 drams of
English weight.
BATMANSON, John, prior of the Carthusian mo¬
nastery, or Charter-house, in the suburbs of London.
He was some time a student at Oxford, but it does not
appear that he took any degree in that university. He
was intimately acquainted with Edward Lee archbishop
of York, at whose request he wrote against Erasmus anil
Luther. He died in the year 1531, and was buried in
the chapel belonging to the Charter-house. According
to Bale, he was a proud forward person j and he says
that Erasmus, in one of his letters to the bishop of Win¬
chester, calls him an ignorant fellow. Pits, on the con¬
trary, gives him the character of a man of singular ge¬
nius, zeal, piety, and learning. He wrote, 1. Ani-
madversiones in annotationes Erasmi in Nov. Testamen-
tum. 2. A treatise against some of Luther’s works.
These two he afterwards retracted. 3. Commentaria
in proverbia Solomonis. 4. In cantica canticorum. 5.
De unica Magdalena. 6. Institutiones noviciorum.
7. De contemptu mundi. 8. De Christo duodenni. 9.
On the words, Missus est, &c.
BATNEARS, or Batties, a people of the north of
Hindostan. See Supplement.
BATON, or Baston. See Baston.
BATRACHOMYOMACHIA, the battle of the
frogs and the mice, the title of a fine burlesque poem
generally ascribed to Homer.—The subject of the work
is the death of Psycharpax, a mouse, son to ToxarteS,
who being mounted on the back of Physignathus, a
frog, on a voyage to her palace, to which she had in¬
vited him, was seized with fear when he saw himself in
the middle of the pond, so that he tumbled off and
was drowned. Physignathus being suspected to have
shaken him oft’ with design, the mice demanded sa¬
tisfaction, and unanimously declared war against the
frogs.
BATTiE, in Ancient Geography, a people of Ger¬
many, formerly inhabitants of what is now called Hesse.
Being dissatisfied with their situation there, they settled
on the island formed by the Vahalis and Rhine, which
from them took the name of Batavia, or Batavorum
Insida. Their government was a mixture of monarchy,
aristocracy, and democracy. Their chief was, pro¬
perly speaking, nothing more than a principal citizen,
whose business was rather to advise than to command.
The principal men who exercised jurisdiction, and
commanded the troops, in their respective distiicts,
were chosen, as well as the kings, in an assembly of the
people. A hundred persons selected from among the
people, presided over every county, and acted as chiefs
in the dift’erent hamlets. The whole nation was, in
some measure, an army always in readiness. Each
family composed a body of militia, which served un-
der a captain of their own choosing. See BataVorum
3 N 2 BATTALIA,
BAT [ 468 ] BAT
Battalia BATTALIA, an army ranged in order of battle,
II or ready for engagement. The word seems formed
Battel. from t|ie Latin batualia, sometimes also written batalia,
denoting a sort of military or gladiatorial exercise, as
lighting with foils, or tilting at a post. In this sense,
we meet with the depth of a battalia j to march in
battalia, with the baggage in the middle j to break the
battalia, &c. In the Homan battalia, the /mstati made
the front.
BATTALION, a small body of infantry, ranged in
form of battle, and ready to engage.
A battalion usually contains from 500 to 800 men ;
hut the number it consists of is not determined. They
are armed with firelocks, swords, and bayonets $ and
divided into 13 companies, one of which is grenadiers.
They are usually drawn up three men deep. Some re¬
giments consist of but one battalion, others are divided
♦ into four or five.
BATTATAS, the Indian name of the potato. See
Convolvulus.
BATTEL, a town of Sussex, five miles north-west
of Hastings, situated in E. Long. O. 35. N. Lai. 50. 55.
It was formerly called Epiton ; and is the place where
William the Conqueror vanquished Harold king of Eng¬
land on October 14. 1066. William, in memory of
this victory, erected an abbey, which he called Battel
Abbey; and if a criminal could but reach this abbey,
he was dismissed from thence, and was afterwards in no
danger for his past faults. The abbey was a large and
noble structure, as may be judged by the gateway which
is still entire, as well as from the other remains. This
place is noted for making gunpowder equal to that of
Dantzick , and the best goes by the name of Battel
gunpowder. Population in 1811, 2531.
Battel, in Law, or Ti'ialby wager of battle, a spe¬
cies of trial of great antiquity, but now much disused.
It seems to have owed its original to the military spi¬
rit of our ancestors, joined to a superstitious frame of
mind ; it being in the nature of an appeal to Provi¬
dence, under an apprehension and hope (however pre¬
sumptuous and unwarrantable), that Heaven would give
the victory to him who had the right. The decision
of suits, by this appeal to the God of battles, is by some
said to have been invented by the Burgundi, one of the
northern or German clans that planted themselves in
Gaul. And it is true, that the first written injunction
of judiciary combats that we meet with, is in the laws
of Gundebal, A. D. 501, which are preserved in the
Burgundian code. Yet it does not seem to have been
merely a local custom of this or that particular tribe,
but to have been Hie common usage of all those war¬
like people from the earliest times. And it may also
seem, from a passage in Velleius Paterculus, that the
Germans, when first they became known to the Ro¬
mans, were wont to decide all contests of right by the
sword : for when Quintilius Varus endeavoured to in¬
troduce among them the Roman laws and method of
trial, it was looked upon (says the historian) as a no-
vitas incognitce disciplince, ut solita armis decerni jure
terminarentur. And among the ancient Goths in Swe¬
den we find the practice of judiciary duels established
upon much the same footing as they formerly were in
our own country.
This trial was introduced in England among other
Nqrman customs by William the Conqueror $ but was
3,
only used in three cases, one military, one criminal, and Baud
the third civil. The first in the court martial, or court -—y—
of chivalry and honour 5 the second in appeals of fe¬
lony ; and the third upon issue joined in a writ of right,
the last and most solemn decision of real property. For
in writs of right the jus proprietatis, which is frequently
a matter of difficulty, is in question •, hut other real ac¬
tions being merely questions 0f thzjuspossessionis, which
are usually more plain and obvious, our ancestors did
not in them appeal to the decision of Providence. An¬
other pretext for allowing it, upon these final writs of
right, was also for the sake of such claimants as might
have the true right, but yet by the death of witnesses
or other defect of evidence be unable to prove it to a
jury. But the most curious reason of all is given in
the Mirror, that it is allowable upon warrant of the
combat between David for the people of Israel of the
one party, and Goliath for the Philistines of the other
party : a reason which Pope Nicholas I. very seriously
decides to he inconclusive. Of battel therefore on a
wi'itof right we shall first speak : and although the writ
of right itself, and of course this trial thereof, be at
present disused ; yet, as it is law at this day, it may be
matter of curiosity, at least, to inquire into the forms
of this proceeding, as we may gather them from ancient
authors.
I. The last trial of battel that was waged in the court
of common pleas at Westminster (though there was af¬
terwards one in the court of chivalry in 1631, and an¬
other in the county palatine of Durham in 1638) was in
the 13th year of Queen Elizabeth, A. D. 1571, as re¬
ported by Sir James Dyer 5 and was held in Tothill-
fields, Westminster, “ non sine magna juris consullorum
perturbationef saith Sir Henry Spelman, who was him¬
self a witness of the ceremony. The form, as appears
from the authors before cited, is as follows.
When the tenant in a writ of right pleads the general
issue, viz. that he hath more right to hold than the de¬
mandant hath to recover-, and offers to prove it by the
body of his champion, which tender is accepted by the
demandant; the tenant in the first place must produce
his champion, who, by throwing down his glove as a
gage or pledge, thus wages or stipulates battel with the
champion of the demandant; who, by taking up the
gage or glove, stipulates on his part to accept the chal¬
lenge. The reason why it is waged by champions, and
not by the parties themselves, in civil actions, is be¬
cause, if any party to the suit dies, the suit must abate
and be at an end for the present; and therefore no
judgment could he given for the lands in question, if
either of the parties Were slain in battel: and also that
no person might claim an exemption from this trial, a#
was allowed in criminal cases where the battel was wa¬
ged in person.
A piece of ground is then in due time set out, of 60
feet square, enclosed with lists, and on one side a court
erected for the judges of the court of common pleas,
who attend there in their scarlet robes ; and also a bar
is prepared for the learned Serjeants at law. When the
court sits, which ought to be by sunrising, proclama¬
tion is made for the parties and their champions; who
are introduced by two knights, and are dressed in a coat
of armour, with red sandals, barelegged from the knee
downwards, bareheaded, and with bare arms to the
elbows. The weapons allowed them are only batons,
or
BAT [ 4
jattel or staves, of an ell long, and a four-cornered leather
-Y—target; so that death very seldom ensued this civil com¬
bat. In the court military, indeed, they fought with
sword and lance, according to Spelman and Rushworth j
and likewise in France: only villains fought with buck¬
ler and baton, gentlemen armed at all points. And up¬
on this, and other circumstances, the president Montes¬
quieu had with great ingenuity not only deduced the
impious custom of private duels upon imaginary points
of honour, but hath also traced the heroic madness of
knight-errantry from the same original of judicial com¬
bats. But to proceed :
When the champions, thus armed with batons, ar¬
rive within the lists or place of combat, the champion
of the tenant then takes his adversary by the hand, and
makes oath that the tenements in dispute are not the
right of the demandant ; and the champion of the de¬
mandant, then taking the other by the hand, swears in
the same manner that they are j so that each champion
is, or ought to be, thoroughly persuaded of the truth
of the cause he fights for. Next an oath against sor¬
cery and enchantment is to be taken by both the cham¬
pions, in this or a similar form : “ Hear this, ye ju¬
stices, that I have this day neither ate, drank, nor have
upon me either bone, stone, nor grass; nor any enchant¬
ment, sorcery, or witchcraft, whereby the law of God
may be abased, or the law of the devil exalted. So
help me God and his saints.”
The battel is thus begun, and the combatants are
bound to fight till the stars appear in the evening: and,
if the champion of the tenant can defend himself till
the stars appear, the tenant shall prevail in his cause;
for it is sufficient for him to maintain his ground, and
make it a drawn battel, he being already in possession;
but, if victory declares itself for either party, for him
is judgment finally given. This victory may arise from
the death of either of the champions : which indeed
hath rarely happened ; the whole ceremony, to say the
truth, bearing a near resemblance to certain rural ath¬
letic diversions, which are probably derived from this
original. Or victory is obtained if either champion
proves recreant, that is, yields, and pronounces the
horrible word of craven : a word of disgrace and ob¬
loquy, rather than of any determinate meaning. But
a horrible word it indeed is to the vanquished cham¬
pion; since, as a punishment to him for forfeiting the
. land of his principal by pronouncing that shameful
word, he is condemned as a recreant, amittere liberam
legem, that is, to become infamous, and not to be ac¬
counted liber et legalis homo ; being supposed by the
event to be proved forsworn, and therefore never to
be put upon a jury, or admitted as a witness in any
cause.
This is the form of a trial by battel ; a trial which
the tenant, or defendant in a writ of right, has it in his
election at this day to demand; and which was the on¬
ly decision of such writ of right after the Conquest, till
Henry II. by consent of parliament, introduced the
grand assise, a peculiar species of trial by jury, in con¬
currence therewith ; giving the tenant his choice of
either the one or the other. Which example, of dis¬
countenancing these judicial combats, was imitated
about a century afterwards in France, by an edict of
Louis the Pious, A. D. 1260, and soon after by the
rest of Furope. The establishment of this alternative,
69 ] BAT
Glanvil, chief justice to Henry II. and probably his Battel,
adviser herein, considers as a most noble improvement, y—~
as in fact it was, of the law.
2. In appeal * of felony, the trial by battel may be * See .4/-
demanded, at the election of the appellee, in either an
appeal or an improvement ; and it is carried on with
equal solemnity as that on a writ of right; but with
this difference, that there each party hires a champion,
but here they must fight in their proper persons. And,
therefore, if the appellant or approver be a woman, a
priest, an infant, or of the age of 60, or lame, or blind,
he or she may counterplead and refuse the wager of bat¬
tel ; and compel the appellee to put himself upon the
country. Also peers of the realm, bringing an appeal,
shall not be challenged to wage battel, on account of
the dignity of their persons ; nor the citizens of Lon¬
don, by special charter, because fighting seems foreign
to their education and employment. So likewise, if
the crime be notorious ; as if the thief be taken with
the mainour, or the murderer in the room with a bloody
knife, the appellant may refuse the tender of battel
from the appellee; and it is unreasonable an innocent
man should stake his life against one who is already
half-convicted.
The form and manner of waging battel upon ap¬
peals are much the same as upon a writ of right; only
the oaths of the two combatants are vastly more stri¬
king and solemn. The appellee, when appealed of fe¬
lony, pleads not guilty; and throws down his glove, and
declares he will defend the same by his body : the ap¬
pellant takes up the glove ; and replies that he is ready
to make good the appeal, body for body. And there¬
upon, the appellee taking the book in his right hand,
and in his left the right hand of his antagonist, swears •
to this effect: Hoc audi, homo, quern per manum te-
neo, &c. “ Hear this, O man, whom I hold by the
hand, who callest thyself John by the name of bap¬
tism, that I, who call myself Thomas by the name of
baptism, did not feloniously murder thy father, Wil¬
liam by name, nor am any way guilty of the said fe¬
lony. So help me God, and the saints; and this I will
defend against thee by my body, as this court shall
award.” To which the appellant replies, holding the
Bible and his antagonist’s hand in the same manner as
the other : “ Hear this, O man, whom I hold by the
hand, who callest thyself Thomas, by the name of bap¬
tism, that thou art perjured ; and therefore perjured,
because that thou feloniously didst murder my father,
William by name. So help me God, and the saints ;
and this I will prove against thee by my body, as this
court shall award.” The battel is then to be fought,
with the same weapons, viz. batons, the same solem¬
nity, and the same oath against amulets and sorcery,
that are used in the civil combat: and if the appehee be
so far vanquished that he cannot or will not fight any
longer, he shall be adjudged to be hanged immediate¬
ly ; and then, as well as if be be killed in battel, Fi"0-
vidence is deemed to have determined in favour of the
truth, and his blood shall be attainted. But if he kills
the appellant, or can maintain the fight from sunrising
till the stars appear in the evening, he shall be acquit¬
ted. So also, if the appellant becomes recreant, and
pronounces the horrible word craven, he shall lose his
liberam legem, and become infamous; and the appellee
shall recover his damages, and also be for ever quit, not
BAT [ 470 ] BAT
Battel only of the appeal, but of all indictments likewise for
!| the same offence.
Battering- BATTEN, a name that workmen give to a scant-
Ram- ling of wooden stuff, from two to four inches broad, and
W v ' about one inch thick *, the length is pretty considerable,
but undetermined.—This term is chiefly used in speak¬
ing of doors and windows of shops, &c. which are not
framed of whole deal, &c. with stiles, rails, and pan-
nels like wainscot *, but are made to appear as if they
were by means of these battens braded on the plain
board round the edges, and sometimes cross them, and
up and down.
BATTENBURG, a town of Dutch Guelderland,
seated on the north bank of the Meuse, almost opposite
to Ravenstein. E. Long. 5. 35. N. Lat. 50. 55.
BATTERING, the attacking a place, work, or
the like, with heavy artillery.
To batter in breach, is to play furiously on a work,
as the angle of a half-moon, in order to demolish and
make a gape therein. In this they observe never to
fire a piece at the top, but all at the bottom, from three
to six feet from the ground.
The battery of a camp is usually surrounded with a
trench, and pallisadoes at the bottom, with two re¬
doubts on the wings, or certain places of arms, capable
of covering the troops which are appointed for their
defence. See Battery.
BATTERING-Ham, in antiquity, a military engine
used to batter and beat down the walls of places be¬
sieged. It is said to have been invented by Artemanes
of Clazomene, a Greek architect who flourished 441
B. C.—The machine is thus described by Josephus :
It is a vast beam, like the mast of a ship, strengthened
at the one end with a head of iron, something resem¬
bling that of a ram, whence it took its name. This
was hung by the middle with ropes to another beam,
which lay across two posts 5 and hanging thus equally
balanced, it was by a great number of men drawn
backwards and pushed forwards, striking the wall with
its iron head. But this engine did most execution
when it was mounted on wheels, which is said to have
been first done at the siege of Byzantium under Philip
of Maced on.
Plutarch informs us, that Mark Antony, in the
Parthian war, made use of a ram fourscore feet long :
and Vitruvius tells us, that they were sometimes 106,
and sometimes 120, feet in length ; and to this per¬
haps the force and strength of the engine was in a great
measure owing. The ram was managed at one time
by a whole century of soldiers •, and they being spent,
were seconded by another century, so that it played
continually without any intermission.
Plate LXXXVIII. fig. 1. represents the battering-
ram suspended. 2. The ram. 3. The form of its head,
fastened to the enormous beam by three or four bands
of iron, four feet in breadth. At the extremity of
each of these bands (4) was a chain (5) of the same
metal, one end of which was fastened to a hook (6),
and at the other extremity of each of these chains was
a cable firmly bound to the last link. These cables
ran the whole length of the beam to the end of the
ram (7), where they were all bound together as fast
as possible with small ropes. To the end of these
cables another was fixed, composed of several strong
cords plaited together to a certain length, and then
running single (8). At each of these several men were Batterinc.
placed, to balance and work the machine. 10. The Rf;m
chain or cable by which it hung to the cross beam (11), !i
fixed on the top of the f ame. I 2. The base of the , ^attei7^
machine.—The unsuspended ram differed from this on- ' ^
ly in the manner of working it : for instead of being
slung by a chain or cable, it moved on small wheels on
another large beam.
Battering-Rams, in Heraldry, a bearing or coat
of arms resembling the military engine of the same
name.
BATTERY, in the military art, a parapet thrown
up to cover the gunners and men employed about the
guns from the enemy’s shot. This parapet is cut into
embrasures, for the cannon to fire through. The height
of the embrasures on the inside is about three feet j
but they go sloping lower to the outside. Their wide¬
ness is two or three feet, but open to six or seven on the
outside. The mass of earth that is betwixt two em¬
brasures, is called the merlon. The platform of a bat¬
tery is a floor of planks and sleepers, to keep the wheels
of the guns from sinking into the earth; and is always
made sloping towards the embrasures, both to hinder
the reverse, and to facilitate the bringing back of the
gun.
Battery of Mortars differs from a battery of
guns ; for it is sunk into the ground, and has no em-
brasui’es.
Cross-BATTERIES, are two batteries which play
athwart one another upon the same object, forming
there an angle, and beating with more violence and
destruction j because what one bullet shakes, the other
beats down.
Battery, Sunk or Buried, is when its platform is
sunk or let down into the ground, so that there must
be trenches cut in the earth, against the muzzles of •
the guns, for them to fire out at, and to serve for em¬
brasures.
Battery d'Evfilade, is one that sweeps or scours
the whole length of a straight line.
Battery en Echarpe is that which plays obliquely.
Battery de Reverse, that which plays upon the ene¬
my’s back.
Cornerade Battery, is when several guns play at
the same time upon one place.
Battery, in Law, is the unlawful beating of ano¬
ther. The least touching of another’s person wilfully,
or in anger, is a battery, for the law cannot draw the
line between different degrees of violence, and there¬
fore totally prohibits the first and lowest stage ol it
every man’s person being sacred, and no other having
a right to meddle with it, in any the slightest manner.
And therefore, upon a similar principle, the Cornelian
law de injuriis prohibited pulsation as well as verbera-
tion ; distinguishing verberation, which was accompa¬
nied with pain, from pulsation which was attended with
none. But battery is in some cases justifiable or law¬
ful ; as where one who hath authority, a parent or
master, gives moderate correction to his child, his scho¬
lar, or his apprentice. So also on the principle of self-
defence : for if one strikes me first, or even only as¬
saults me, I may strike in my own defence j and it
sued for it, may plead son assault demesne, or that it
was the plaintiff’s own original assault that occasioned
it. So likewise in defence of my goods or possession.
llr. .7-/'m/r tPci//fs/
BATTKRIXCt ram.
Titj.
PLATE LXXXYIIT.
Rm^TACLT
rig. A.
B A T [ 471 ] BAT
attery if a raan endeavours to deprive me of them, I may jus-
11 tif’y laying hands upon him to prevent him ; and in case
attic. jie persists with violence, I may proceed to beat him
away. Thus too in the exercise of an office, as that of
church warden or beadle, a man may lay hands upon an¬
other to turn him out of church, and prevent his di¬
sturbing the congregation. And if sued for this or the
like battery, he may set forth the whole case, and plead
that he laid hands upon him gently, molliter manus im-
posuit, for this purpose. On account of these causes of
justification, battery is defined to be the unlawful beat¬
ing of another j for which the remedy is, as for assault,
by action of trespass vi et armis: wherein the jury will
give adequate damages.
BATTISTA, Franco, a celebrated painter, born
at Venice, was one of the disciples of Michael Angelo,
whose manner he followed so closely, that, in the cor¬
rectness of his outlines, he surpassed most of the ma¬
sters of his time. His paintings are pretty numerous,
and dispersed all over Italy and other parts of Europe 5
but his colouring being very dry, they are not much
more esteemed than the prints etched by his hand. He
died in 1561.
BATTLE, a general engagement between two ar¬
mies in a country sufficiently open for them to encoun¬
ter in front and at the same time (see War). The
word is also written battel, battell, and battail. It is
formed from the French battaille, of the Latin verb
batuere, to fence or exercise with arms: whence batu-
alia and batalia, which properly denoted the action or
exercise of those who learned to fence, and who were
hence also denominated batuatores.
The ancients never joined battle without much ce¬
remony and preparation ; as taking auguries, offering
sacrifice, haranguing the soldiers, giving the word or
a tessera, &c. The signals of battle were, sounding the
classicum or general charge, and displaying a peculiar
flag, called by Plutarch & purple robe. To which may
be added, singing pseans, raising military shouts, and the
like. A Roman legion, ranged in order of battle,
consisted of hastati, placed in the front j of principles,
who were all old experienced soldiers, placed behind
the former ; and of triarii, heavy armed with large
bucklers, behind \\\e principes. The hastati were rank¬
ed close ; the ranks of the principes were much opener,
so that they could receive the hastati; and those of the
triarii opener still, insomuch that they could receive
both the principes and the hastati within them, with¬
out any disorder, and still facing the enemy. When
therefore the hastati found themselves unable to stand
the enemy’s charge, they retired gently within the
principes, where joining with them they renewed the
combat. If these found themselves too weak to sustain
the enemy, both retired among the tnurn, where ral-
lying, they formed a new corps, and charged with moie
vigour than ever. If these failed, the battle was lost:
the Romans had no farther resource. rIhe moderns
are unacquainted with this method of inserting or em¬
battling one company into another ; without which
the former cannot be well succoured or defended, and
their places taken by others $ which was a thing the
Romans practised with great exactness. For the ve~
lites, and in latter times the archers and slingers, were
not drawn up in this regular manner, but either dispo¬
sed of before the front of the hastati, or scattered up
and down among the void spaces of the hastati, or
sometimes placed in two bodies in the wings. These
always began the combat, skirmishing in flying par¬
ties with the foremost troops of the enemy. If they were
repulsed, which was usually the case, they fell back to
the flanks of the army, or retired again in the rear.
When they retired, the hastati advanced to the charge.
As to the cavalry, it was posted at the two corners of
the army, like the wings on a body •, and fought some¬
times on toot, sometimes on horseback. The auxiliary
forces composed the two points of the battle, and co¬
vered the whole body of the Romans.—Other less
usual forms of battle among the Romans were the
cuneus, or wedge j globus, or round form ; forfex, or
pair of sheers j turris, or an oblong square figure }
serra, or saw. The Greeks were inferior to the Ro¬
mans in marshalling their armies for battle, as they
drew up their whole army in a front, and trusted
the success of the day to a single force. They had
three forms of battle for the horse, viz. the square, the
wedge, and the rhombus or diamond form. The first
held best for the defensive $ the latter for the offen¬
sive ; the wedge being preferred as bringing most hands
to fight.
The Greeks notified the places of their battles and
victories by adding the word Nos*> j whence Nicomedia
Nicopolis, Thessalonica, &c. The ancient Britons did
the like, by adding the word mais; whence Maisse-
veth, Malmaisbury, &c. The English by the word
field.—The Romans had their particular days, called
prceliures dies, in which alone it was lawful to join bat¬
tle, and others wherein it was unlawful, called dies atri.
The Athenians, by the ancient laws of their country,
were not to draw out their forces for battle till after
the seventh day of the month : And Lucian relates of
the Lacedaemonians, that by the laws of Lycurgus, they
were not to fight before full moon. Among the Ger¬
mans, it was reputed an impiety to fight in the wane
of the moon j and Caesar tells us, that Ariovistus was
beaten by him, because, contrary to the laws of his
country, he had fought when the moon was in her
wane. The German soldiers were intimidated with the
apprehension, and afforded Caesar an easy victory j acie
commissa, impeditosreligionehostesvicit. It is well known
that Jerusalem wTas taken by Pompey in an attack on
the Sabbath-day, when by the Jewish superstitious no¬
tions, they were not allowed to fight, or even to defend
themselves. The Romans did not carry their supersti¬
tion so far: their atri dies were only observed in respect
of attacking ; no day was too holy for them to defend •
themselves in. Among the ancients, we find frequent
instances of battles in the night 5 it was by the moon¬
light that Pompey beat Mithridates, and Scipio Asdru-
bal and Syphax.
The first pitched battle, of which we have any di¬
stinct account is, that between Croesus and Cyrus,,
described by Xenophon, concerning which we have
a dissertation expressly by M. Freret, wherein several
points of the ancient tactics are well explained. In
the modern war, we find few pitched or set battles ;
the chief view of the great commanders of late days is
rather to harass or starve the enemy by frequent alarms,
cutting off his provisions, carrying off his baggage,
seiziiv his posts, &e. than to join issue with him, and
put the whole on the event of one day ; a battle ge¬
nerally deciding the fate of a campaign, sometimes of
a whole war. Hence it is a rule never to venture a ge¬
neral
Battle
11.
Bavaria.
BAY t 47
neral battle, unless either you fight to advantage, or be
forced to it. Joining or giving battle should always be
by design : a general should never sulFer himself to be
J forced to fight. All the measures, movements, encamp¬
ments, he makes, are to lead to the execution of his
great design, which is to fight to advantage, till by some
mistake of the enemy, he at length find the favourable
opportunity. It is in this that a superior genius will at
length prevail over an inferior: in the course of a cam¬
paign, he will take a number of advantages over him,
which together are equivalent to a battle, the event of
which is ever doubtful.
Battle-Axc, an ancient military weapon. Axes
were a principal part of the offensive armour of the
Celtse. At the siege of the Roman Capitol by the
Gauls under Brennus, we find one of the most distin¬
guished of their warriors armed with a battle-axe. And
Ammianus Marcellinus, many centuries afterwards,
describing a body of Gauls, furnishes them all with
battle-axes and swords. Some of these weapons have
been found in the sepulchres of the Britons, on the
downs of Wiltshire, and in the north of Scotland.
Within these four or five centuries the Irish went con¬
stantly armed with an axe. At the battle of Ban¬
nockburn, King Robert Bruce clave an English cham¬
pion down to the chine, at one blow, with a battle-
axe. The axe of Lochaber hath remained a for¬
midable implement of destruction in the hands of our
Highlanders, even nearly to the present period ; and it
is still used by the city-guard of Edinburgh in quelling
mobs, &c.
BATTLEMENTS, in Architecture, are indentures
or notches in the top of a wall or other building, in
the form of embrasures, for the sake of looking through
them.
BATTOLOGY, in Grammar, a superfluous repe¬
tition of some words or things.
BATTON, in merchandise, a name given to cer*
tain pieces of wood or deal for flooring or other purposes.
BATTORY, a name given by the Hans Towns to
their magazines or factories abroad. The chief of these
Battories are those at Archangel, Novogorod, Bergh-
men, Lisbon, Venice, and Antwerp.
BATUA, Butua, Buthoe, or Buthoece, in Ancient
Geography, a town of Dalmatia, situated on the Adria¬
tic ; now Budoa ; which see.
BATTUS, an order of penitents at Avignon and in
Provence, whose piety carries them to exercise severe
discipline upon themselves both in public and private.
BATZ, a copper coin mixed with some silver, and
current at different rates, according to the alloy in Nu¬
remberg, Basil, Fribourg, Lucerne, and other cities of
Germany and Switzerland.
BAVARIA, formerly a duchy and electorate, but
now a kingdom of Germany. Bavaria has experien¬
ced a great variety of changes within the last twenty
years. She received a considerable accession of terri¬
tory at the settling of the German indemnities in 1802,
consisting of the bishoprics of Freysingen, Bamberg,
Augsburg, and Kempten, ten abbeys, fifteen imperial
towns, and some other small districts, which were given
as an equivalent for the palatinate of the Rhine, the
duchies of Juliers, and Deux Fonts, and other posses¬
sions in the Netherlands. He assumed at the same
time the title of duke of Franconia. The duke hav¬
ing still adhered to the French, Bonaparte raised him
2 ] BAY
in 1806 to the kingly dignity, and on this occasion, Bavaria^
and afterwards at the peace in 1809, enlarged his do- v -<
minions at the expence of Austria. When the fortune
of the war changed in 1813, Bavaria, like others of the
small powers, endeavoured to secure the advantages he
had gained by entering into terms with the stronger
party j and at the peace of Paris in 1814 he was al¬
lowed to keep the greater part of his new acquisitions,
restoring to Austria Saltzburg and Bertholsgaden, with
the parts of the Tirol and of the Hansruck formerly
ceded to him. He obtained then also the greater part
of what was formerly deriominated the palatinate of
the Rhine, with the grand duchy of Wurtsburg. The
whole kingdom of Bavaria at present embraces an area
of 30,000 square English miles, and had a population
of 3,560,000 in 1818. The revenue of Bavaria in the
same year was estimated at 1,900,000!. sterling; and
the contingent of troops which it is bound to furnish to
the German confederation is 35,600. About one-
fourth or one-fifth of the inhabitants are Lutherans,
the rest Catholics, with a small number of Calvinists
and Jews. The Catholics were formerly distinguished
by their bigotry and intolerance; but a great reforma¬
tion has taken place in this and many other points since
the present king ascended the throne. The greatest
proportion of the numerous monasteries have been sup¬
pressed, and a part of the funds employed in endowing
schools and academies. To crown these advantages,
the king gave the nation a representative constitution
in 1818; and Bavaria, which was lately the stronghold
of ignorance and superstition, now bids fair to outstrip
all her neighbours in the career of improvement. Mu¬
nich is the capital. The country is fertile, but moun¬
tainous, and has mines of salt, coal, iron, and lead.
Its vegetable productions are extremely various, and
include chesnuts, Indian corn, and vines. Vast numbers
of cattle are raised in the southern parts, and in the
north there are considerable manufactures.
The house of Bavaria is universally allowed to be
one of the most ancient in Germany. The counts of
Scheyreu, whose castle at present is a cloister, gave them
the name. At that place are shown the tombs of more
than 26 lords of Scheyren. The emperor Otho I.
established as counts-palatine of Bavaria and landgraves
of Scheyren, Arnolph and Herman, sons of Arnolph
brother to the duke of Berchtold of Carinthia, mar¬
quis of the county upon the Ens. After the death of
Berchtold, the same emperor, instead of giving Ba¬
varia to his son, gave it to Duke Henry his brother,
who had married Judith sister to Arnolph and Herman.
This Duke Henry of Bavaria had by his marriage
Henry Hezillon, who was succeeded by his son Henry,
afterwards chosen emperor by the name of Henry II.
This emperor having no children by Saint Cunegond
his wife, Bavaria passed again to the family of Fran¬
conia, and afterwards to that of Suabia under Henry
IV. who possessed it till the year 1071, when this last
emperor gave that county to Count Wolf, or Guelph, of
Ravensburg in Suabia. To this Guelph, who died in
the island of Cyprus, succeeded Guelph II. and to him
his brother Duke Henry IX. who was succeeded by bis
son Henry the Proud. This last had married the only
daughter of the emperor Lotharius, and after the death
of his father-in-law became also duke of Saxony ; but
refusing to deliver up the imperial ornaments of his fa¬
ther-in-law to the emperor Conrad III. duke of Sua-
bia,
ft A U
bia, or to acknowledge him for emperor, he was put
to the ban of the empire, and lost his states. After the
death of Henry, Conrad made his brother Leopold
marquis of Austria and duke of Bavaria ; who, dying
without issue, was succeeded by his brother Henry XI.
whom the emperor Frederic I. made duke of Austria,
joining together the two counties above and below the
Ens, and declaring them free and independent of the
government of Bavaria. The same emperor gave Ba¬
varia thus dismembered, with Saxony, to Henry the
Lion, son of Henry the Proud. But Henry the Lion
afterwards losing the favour of this emperor, was put
to the ban of the empire : and lost all his possessions
fexcept Brunswick and Lunenburg, which still remain
to his descendants. In 1180, the duchy of Bavaria was
given by the emperor to Otho the landgrave of Wit-
telsbach, count-palatine of the house of Bavaria. In
the time of this Otho, the castle of Scheyren was
changed into a monastery, in which the duke was bu¬
ried. From him are descended the two great families
that remain to this day in Germany ; viz. the counts-
palatine of the Rhine, and the electors, now kings of
Bavaria. Prince Eugene Beauharnois, stepson to Bo¬
naparte, is married to a princess of this family. See
Bavaria, Supplement.
BAVAY, a small towm of the late province of
Hainault, now the department of the North, in France,
which has been often ruined by the wars of the Low
Countries. It was taken by the Austrians in 1792, but
retaken the same year. E. Long. 3. 43. N. Lat. 50.
25*
BAUCIS, in fabulous history, an old woman who
lived with Philemon her husband in a cottage in Phry¬
gia. Jupiter and Mercury travelling over that coun¬
try, were w'ell received by them, after having been re¬
fused entertainment by every body else. To punish the
people for their inhumanity, these gods laid the coun¬
try waste with water ; but took Baucis and Philemon
with them to the top of a mountain, where they saw the
deluge, and their own little hut .above the waters
turned into a temple. Having a u'ish granted them,
they desired to officiate in this temple as priest and
priestess, and also that they might die both together 5
Which was granted them.
BAUCONICA, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the Vangiones in Gallia Belgica ; nine miles from Mo-
gontiacum, and eleven from Borbitomagum •, and there¬
fore supposed to be Oppenkeim, a town in the palati¬
nate of the Rhine, and situated on that river.
BAUDLLO 1, Charles Caesar, a learned advo¬
cate in the parliament of Paris, distinguished himself
by his skill in ancient monuments, and was received
into the Academy of Belles Lettres in 1705. He wrote
a Treatise on the Advantages of Travelling; many
Letters and Dissertations on Medals, &c. j and died
in 1722, aged 74.
. BAUDIER, Michael, a gentleman of Languedoc,
lived in the reign of Louis XIII. and published several
books, which procured him the character of a copious
and laborious author *, among which are, 1. An Inven¬
tory of the General History of the Turks. 2. The Hi¬
story of the Seraglio. 3. That of the Religion of the
Turks. 4* J hat of the Court of the King of Chinai
.5. The Life of Cardinal Ximenes, &c.
BAUDIUS, Dominic, professor of history in the
Vol, III. Part II. -{-
[ 473 ]
B A U
university of Leyden, born at Lisle the 8th of August
1561. He began his studies at Aix-la-Chapelle, and
continued them at Leyden. He removed from thence
to Geneva, where he studied divinity. After residing
here some time, he returned to Ghent, and from thence
to Leyden, where he applied to the civil law, and was
admitted doctor of law in June 1383. Soon after his
admission, he accompanied the ambassadors from the
States to England $ and during his residence here be¬
came acquainted with several persons of distinction,
particularly the famous Sir Philip Sidney. He was
admitted advocate at the Hague the 5th of January
) kut being soon tired of the bar, went to travel
in I ranee, where he remained 10 years. He was much
esteemed in that kingdom, and gained many friends
there. Achilles de Harlai, first president of the par¬
liament of Pans, got him to be admitted advocate of
the parliament of Paris in the year 1592. In 1602,
he went to England with Christopher de Harlai, the
president’s son, who was sent ambassador to the court
of London by Henry the Great. This same year Bau-
dius having been named professor of eloquence at Ley*
den, went and settled in that university. He read lec¬
tures on history after the death of Morula, and was per¬
mitted also to do the same on the civil law. In 1611,
the States conferred upon him the office of historiogra¬
pher in conjunction with Meursius 5 and in consequence
thereof he wrote The History of the Truce. Baudius
is an elegant prose writer, as appears from his letters,
many of which were published after his death. He
was also an excellent Latin poet. The first edition of
his poems was printed in the year 1587 : they consist
of verses of all the different measures. He published
separately a book of iambics in 1591, dedicated to Car¬
dinal Bourbon. Some of his poems he dedicated to
the king of England ; others to the prince of Wales,
in the edition of 1607, and went over to England to
present them. He died at Leyden in 1613.
BAUDOBRIGA, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the Treviri in Germany; now Boppart, in the electo¬
rate of Triers. See Boppart.
BAUDRAND, Michael Anthony, a celebrated
geographer, born at Paris July 18. 1633. travel¬
led into several countries 5 and then applied himself to
the. revisal of Ferrarius’s Geographical Dictionary,
which he enlarged by one half. He wrote, 1. Notes to
Papirius Masso’s description of the Rivers of France.
2. A Geographical and Historical Dictionary. 3. Chri¬
stian Geography, or an Account of the Archbishoprics
and Bishoprics of the whole world j and made several
maps. He died at Paris, May 29. 1700.
BAUGE, a drugget manufactured in Burgundy,
with thread spun thick and coarse wool.
Bauge, a small town of Anjou, in France, in the
department of Maine and Loire, seated on the river
Goesnon. E. Long. 0. ID. N. Lat. 47. 30.
BAUHIN, John, a distinguished botanist, was from
at Lyons in the year 1541. He was the son of an
eminent physician who quitted France, his native
country, on account of religion, and settled at Basil. In
early life he travelled with Gesner, the celebrated na¬
turalist, and collected plants in the Alps, in France,
and Italy, for the purpose of the great botanical work
which he afterwards accomplished. He practised me¬
dicine first at Basil, where he was also elected profes-
S 0 sor
Baiidiiis
|
Bautiin,
/
B A U [ 474 ] B A U
Bauhin. sor of rhetoric in 1566. He resided some time at
—v— ' Yverdun j and was afterwards invited to be physician
to the duke of Wirtemberg at Montbelliard, and in
this situation he spent the remaining forty years of his
life. He devoted his studies chiefly to botany, on
which he bestowed great labour, comparing authors
ancient and modern with each other, and with nature,
and collecting information from all quarters. He like¬
wise prosecuted other branches of natural history, and
published an account of “ Medicinal Waters through¬
out Europe,” and especially in the duchy of Wirtem¬
berg $ and a particular account of the mineral spring
of Boll, and the natural history of the place. His
great work on plants was not completed at his death,
which happened in 16x3. A society at Yverdun pub¬
lished in 1619 the Prodromus of it; but it was not till
1650 and 1651 that the work itself appeared in three
vols. fol. entitled Historia Plantarum nova et absolu-
tissima, cum auctorum consensu et dissensu circa eas.
Bauhin’s son-in-law, Henry Cherler, was also a contri¬
butor to the work. This is a great performance ; and,
with all its defects, has been pronounced by Haller to
be without an equal. The plants are numerous, gene¬
rally well described and discriminated, and many new
species are added. It is still considered as a standard
work j and the names of John Bauhin and his brother
rank high among the founders and first promoters of
botanical science.
Bauhin, Gaspard, brother of the former, was born
in 1560. He was early devoted to physic, and pur¬
sued his studies at Padua, Montpellier, and some of the
celebrated schools in Germany. In his journeys he
collected a number of plants which had escaped his
brother’s notice. Keturning to Basil in 1580, he was
admitted to the degree of doctor, and gave private
lectures in botany and anatomy. In 1582 he was ap¬
pointed to the Greek professorship in that university,
and in 1588, to the anatomical and botanical chairs.
He was at last made city physician, professor of the
practice of medicine, rector of the university, and dean
of his faculty. Thus distinguished and honoured, he
acquired great reputation. He became eminent as a
botanist, and was aided in his researches by the contri¬
butions of his disciples and friends in various parts of
Europe. Haller gives him the character of being as¬
siduous and laborious in collecting plants, by which he
surpassed his brother in the number of them, and also in
the accuracy of his figures ; but he possesses less acute¬
ness of judgment in distinguishing varieties, and detec¬
ting the same species under different names. He pu¬
blished several works relative to botany, of which the
most valuable is his Pinax Theatri Botanici, seu index
in Theophrasti, Dioscoridis, Plinii, et botanicorum qui
a seculo scrip st runt opera, plantarum fere sex mil Hum
nomina, cum synonymiis et differentiis. Opus XIV.
annorum, 410. The confusion that began to arise at this
time from the number of botanical writers who de¬
scribed the same plant under difl’erent names, rendered
such a task as this highly necessary ; and though there
are many defects in the execution, the P/w/x of Bauhin
is still a useful key to all writers before his time. An¬
other great work which he planned was a Theatrum
Botanicum, meant to comprise twelve parts, folio, of
which he finished three, but only one was published.
He also gave a very copious catalogue of the plants
2
growing in the environs of Basil ; and he edited the Bauliii
works of Mathiolus, with considerable additions. fj
Gaspard also wrote on anatomy, which he studied Bausk
under Hieronymus ab Aquapendente, and pursued with '""" y~"
vigour during his youth. The principal is Theatrum
Anatomicum injinitis loots auctiim, 410. Frankf. 1621 $
which is a kind of pinax of anatomical facts and opi¬
nions. He also published a collection of anatomical
plates. He died in 1613.
BAUHINIA, Mountain Ebony. See Botany
Index.
BAVINS, in War, brush faggots, made with the
brush at length. See Fascines 5 and Fire-ship,
note (d).
BAUM, in Botany. See Melissa, Botany Index.
BAUME', Anthony, a French chemist. See Sup¬
plement.
Baume, St, a mountain of Provence in France, be¬
tween Marseilles and Toulon. Here Mary Magdalen
is said to have died.
BAUME-les-Nomes, a town in France, in the depart¬
ment of Doubs, which had a rich nunnery, from whence
it takes its name, seated on the river F)oux, in E.
Long. 6. 20. N. Lat. 47. 12. Five miles from this
town is a remarkable cavern, whose entrance is 20
paces wide ; and after descending 300 paces, the gate
of a grotto is seen, twice as large as that of a city.
The grotto is 35 paces deep, 60 wide, and is covered
with a kind of vaulted roof, from which water con¬
tinually drops. There is also a small brook, said to
be frozen in summer, but not in winter j and at the
bottom are stones that exactly resemble candied citron
peel. When the peasants perceive a mist rising out of
this cave, they affirm that it will certainly rain the
next day.
BAUMEN, or Bauman, a cave of Lower Saxony, -
in Germany, about a mile from Wermigerode, and 18
from Goslar. The entrance is through a rock 5 and so
narrow, that not above one person can pass at a time,.
There are several paths in it, which the peasants have
turned up, in searching for the bones of animals which
they sell for unicorn’s horns. Some think this cave
reaches as far as Goslar 5 but be this as it will the ske¬
letons of men have been found in it, who are supposed
to have been lost in the turnings and windings.
BAUIi, William, an eminent Flemish painter,
was born at Strasburg, and wras the disciple of Bren-
del. He wras some time at Rome, where his studies
were wholly employed about architecture and land¬
scapes, which prevented his studying the antique. He
painted small figures in distemper on vellum. He etch¬
ed with great spirit. His largest works are in the hi¬
storical way. He has given us many of the sieges, and
battles, which wasted Flanders in the 16th century.
They may be exact, and probably they are : but they
are rather plans than pictures ; and have little to re¬
commend them but historic truth, and the freedom of
the execution. His best prints are some characters he
has given us of different nations, in which the peculia¬
rities of each are very well preserved. His Ovid is a
poor performance. Pie died at Vienna in 1640.
BAUSK nr Bautko, a small but important town
in the duchy of Courland, on the frontiers of Poland,
with a strong castle built on a rock. It was taken by
the Swedes in 1625, and by the Russians in ijoy, af- ,
ter
B A x [ 475 ] BAX
Bauvk tfr a Woody battle between them and the Swedes.
|| It is situated on the river Musa, in E. Long. 24. 44.
Lat. 56. 30.
BAU ARY, or Bawtry, a town in the west rid¬
ing of Yorkshire, on the road from London to York.
It has long been noted for millstones and grindstones
brought hither by the river Idle, on which it is seated.
\Y. Long. 1. o. N. Lat. 53. 27.
BAUTZEN, or Budissen, a considerable town
of Germany, and capital of Upper Lusatia, subject to
the king of Saxony, with a strong citadel. Near this
place a bloody battle was fought between the French
and the allies in June 1813, in which the latter were
defeated. E. Long. 14. 42. N. Lat. 51. 10.
BAUX, a town of Provence in France, now the
department of the Mouths of the Rhone, with the title
of a marquisate, seated on a rock, at the top of which
is a strong castle. E. Long. 5. o. N. Lat. 43. 42.
BAWD, a person who keeps a place of prostitu¬
tion, or makes a trade of debauching women, and pro¬
curing or conducting of criminal intrigues. Some think
the word is derived from the old French Baude, bold
or impudent*, though Verstegan has a conjecture which
would carry it higher, viz. from bathe anciently writ¬
ten bade. In which sense bawd originally imported no
more than bath-holder, as if bagnios had anciently
been the chief scenes of such prostitution.
The Romans had their male as well as female
bawds j the former denominated letiones proagogi,
among us panders ; the latter, lenw. Donatus, speak¬
ing of the habits of the ancient characters in comedy,
says, Lena paliis varii coloris utitur. But the ancient
lenones, it is to be observed, furnished boys as well as
girls for venereal service. Another sort of these mer¬
chants or dealers in human flesh, were called mango-
tics, by the Greeks cud^oKXTrnXai, who sold eunuchs,
slaves, &c. By a law of Constantine, bawds were to
be punished by pouring melted lead down their throats.
See the next article.
Bawdy-House, a house of ill fame, to which lewd
persons of both sexes resort, and there have criminal
conversation.
The keeping a bawdy-house is a common nuisance,
not only on account that it endangers the public peace
by drawing together debauched and idle persons, and
promoting quarrels, but likewise for its tendency to
corrupt the manners of the people. And therefore
persons convicted of keeping bawdy-houses, are pu¬
nishable by fine and imprisonment; also liable to stand
in the pillory, and to such other punishment as the
court at their discretion shall inflict. Persons resorting
to a bawdy-house are likewise punishable, and they
may be bound to their good behaviour.—It was al¬
ways held infamous to keep a bawdy-house : yet some
of our historians mention bawdy-houses publicly al¬
lowed here in former times till the reign of Henry
VIII. and assign the number to be 18 thus allowed on
the bank-side in Southwark. See Stews and Bro¬
thel.
Bawdy-houses are licensed in Holland, and pay a
considerable tax to the state.
BAWLING, among sportsmen, is spoke of the
dogs, when they are too busy before they find the scent
good.
BAXTER, Richard, an eminent divine among
the Nonconformists, was born at Rowton in Shrop- Baxter
shire, November 12. 1615 ; and distinguished himself—v  
by his exemplary life, his pacific and moderate prin¬
ciples, and his numerous writings. He was remark¬
able for his piety even when he was very young. Up¬
on the opening of the long parliament, he was chosen
vicar of Kidderminster. In the heat of the civil wars
he withdrew from that town to Coventry, and preach¬
ed to the garrison and inhabitants. When Oliver
Cromwell was made protector, he would by no means
comply with his measures, though he preached once
before him. He came to London just before the de¬
posing of Richard Cromwell, and preached before the
parliament the day before they voted the return of
King Charles II. who upon his restoration appointed
him one of his chaplains in ordinary. He assisted at
the conference in the Savoy, as one of the commission¬
ers for stating the fundamentals in religion, and then
drew up a reformed liturgy. He was offered the bishop-
rick of Hereford j which he refused j affecting no
higher preferment than the liberty of continuing mini¬
ster of Kidderminster j which he could not obtain, for
he was not permitted to preach there above twice or
thrice after the Restoration. Whereupon he returned
to London, and preached occasionally about the city,
till the act of uniformity took place. In 1662, Mr
Baxter was married to Margaret Charleton, daughter
to Francis Charleton, Esq. of the county of Salop,
who xvas esteemed one of the best justices of the peace
in that county. She was a woman of great piety, and
entered thoroughly into her husband’s views concern¬
ing religion. During the plague in 1665 he retired
into Buckinghamshire j but afterwards returned to Ac¬
ton, where he staid till the act against conventicles ex¬
pired ; and then his audience was so large that he
wanted room. Upon this he was committed to pri¬
son ; but procuring a habeas corpus, he was dischar¬
ged. After the indulgence in 1672, he returned td
London ; and in 1682 he was seized for coming with¬
in five miles of a corporation. In 1684 he was seized
again ; and in the reign of King James II. was com¬
mitted prisoner to the King’s Bench, and tried before
the lord chief justice Jefferies for his Paraphrase on the
New Testament, which was called a scandalous and se¬
ditious book against the government. He continued
in prison two years $ from whence he was at last dis¬
charged, and had his fine remitted by the king. He
died December the 8th 1691 5 and was buried in
Christ-church.
Mr Sylvester says, that Mr Baxter’s “ person was
tall and slender, and stooped much : his countenance
composed and grave, somewhat inclining to smile. He
had a piercing eye, a very articulate speech, and de¬
portment rather plain than complimental.” There is
an original portrait of him at Dr Williams’s library,
founded for the use of Protestant Dissenting Ministers,
in Red-cross street. Mr Sylvester also says, that “ he
had a great command over his thoughts. He had that
happy faculty, so as to answer the character that was
given of him by a learned man dissenting from him,
after discourse with him; which was that he could say
what he would, and he could prove what he said. He
was most intent upon the necessary things. Rational
learning he most valued, and was a very extraordinary
master of. And as to his expressive faculty, he spake
3 O 2 properly,
BAX [ 476 ] BAX
Baxter, properly, plainly, pertinently, and pathetically. He
-—v ' could speak suitably, both to men’s capacities and to
the things insisted on. He was a person wonderful at
extemporate preaching.” But his common practice
appears to have been to preach with notes $ though he
said, “ That he thought it very needful for a minister
to have a body of divinity in his head.” He was ho¬
noured with the friendship of some of the greatest and
best men in the kingdom (as the earl of Lauderdale,
the earl of Balcarras, Lord Chief Justice Hales, Dr
Tillotson, &c.) ; and held correspondence with some of
the most eminent foreign divines.—He wrote above 120
books, and had above 60 written against him. The
former, however, it should seem, were greatly prefe¬
rable to the latter; since Dr Barrow, an excellent
judge, says, that “ his practical writings were never
mended, his controversial seldom confuted.”
Mr Granger’s character of him is too striking to
be omitted. “ Kichard Baxter was a man famous for
weakness of body and strength of mind; for having
the strongest sense of religion himself, and exciting a
sense of it in the thoughtless and profligate: for preach¬
ing more sermons, engaging in more controversies, and
writing more books, than any other Nonconformist of
his age. He spoke, disputed, and wrote with ease ;
and discovered the same intrepedity when he reproved
Cromwell and expostulated with Charles II. as when
he preached to a congi'egation of mechanics. His
zeal for religion was extraordinary ; but it seems never
to have prompted him to faction, or carried him to en¬
thusiasm. Lins champion of the Presbyterians was
the common butt of men of every other religion, and
of those who were of no religion at all. But this had
very little effect upon him: his presence and his firm¬
ness of mind on no occasion forsook him. He was
just the same man before he went into a prison, while
he was in it, and when he came out of it; and he
maintained an uniformity of character to the last gasp
of his life. His enemies have placed him in hell ; but
every man who has not ten times the bigotry that Mr
Baxter himself had, must conclude that he is in a bet¬
ter place. This is a very faint and imperfect sketch
of Mr Baxter’s character: men of his size ax-e not to
be drawn in miniature. His portrait, in full propor¬
tion, is in his Narrative of his own Life and Times;
which though a rhapsody, composed in the manner of
a diary, contains a great variety of memorable things,
and is itself, as far as it goes, a Histoxy of Noncon¬
formity.”— Among his most famous works were, 1.
I he Saints Everlasting Best. 2. Call to the Uncon¬
verted, of which 20,000 were sold in one year : and
it was translated not only into all the European lan¬
guages, but into the Indian tongue. 3. Poor Man’s
Family Book. 4. Dying Thoughts ; and, 5. A Par
raphrase on the New lestament. His practical works
have been printed in four volumes folio.
Baxter, William, nephew and heir to the foi'mer,
was an eminent schoolmaster and critic. He was bom
at Lanlugany in Shropshire, in the year l6jO ; and it
is remarkable, that at the age of iS,’’ when he first went
to school, he knew not one letter nor understood one
word of any language but Welsh ; but he so well im¬
proved his time, that he became a person of great and
extensive knowledge. His genius led him chiefly to
the study of antiquities and philology, in which he
composed several books. The first he published was a
Grammar, in entitled De Analogia sen Arte
Latince Linguce Commentariolus. He also published a
new and correct edition of Anacreon, with notes ; an
edition of Horace ; a Dictionary of the British anti¬
quities, in Latin : and several other books. He was
a great master of the ancient British and Irish tongues,
was particularly skilled in the Latin and Greek, and
in the northern and eastern languages. He died May
31* 1723> a^ter being above 20 years master of Mer¬
cer’s School in London.
Baxter, Andrew, a very ingenious metaphysical
writer, was born in 1686 or 1687, at Old Aberdeen
(where his father was a merchant), and educated in
King’s College there. His principal employment was
that of a private tutor to young gentlemen ; and a-
mong others of his pupils were Lord Gray, Lord Blan-
tyre, and Mr Hay of Drummelzier. About 1724 he
married the daughter of a clergyman in the shire of
Berwick. A few years after he published in 4to, “An
Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, wherein
its immatex-iality is evinced from the principles of rea¬
son and philosophy without date. In 1741 he went
abroad with Mr Hay, and resided some years at U-
trecht ; having there also Lord Blantyre under his care.
He made excursions from thence into Flanders, France,
and Germany ; his wife and family residing, in the
mean time, chiefly at Berwick-upon-Tweed. He re¬
turned to Scotland in 1747, and resided till his death
at Whittingham, in the shire of East Lothian. He
drew up, for the use of his pupils and his son, a piece
entitled Mat ho ; sive, Cosmotheoria puerilis, JAialogus.
In quo prima elementa de mundi or dine et ornatu propo-
nuntur, Sfc. This was afterwards greatly enlarged,
and published in English, in two volumes 8vo. In
*75° was published, “ An Appendix to his Inquiry
into the Nature of the Human Soul wherein he en¬
deavours to remove some difficulties which had been
started against his notions of the vis inertia of matter,
by Maclaurin, in his “ Account of Sir Isaac New¬
ton’s Philosophical Discoveries.” To this piece Mr
Baxter prefixed a dedication to Mr John Wilkes, with
whom he had commenced an acquaintance abi'oad.
He died April the 23d, 1750, after suffering for some
months under a complication of disorders, of which
the gout was the chief. He left a wife, three daugh¬
ters, and one son, Mr Alexander Baxteir ; from which
last the authors of Biographia Britannica received, as
they inform us, sundry particulars of his life.
His learning and abilities are sufficiently displayed
in his writings. He was extremely studious, and
sometimes sat up whole nights in reading and writing.
His temper at the same time was very cheerful, and he
was a friend to innocent merriment. It is said of
Mr Baxter, that he entered with much good humour •
into the convei'sation and pleasui'es of young people,
when they were of an innocent nature : and that he
presided, all the time of his abode at Utrecht, at the
ordinary which was frequented by all the young Eng¬
lish gentlemen there, with much gaiety and politeness,
and in such a manner as gave universal satisfaction.
He also frequented the most polite assemblies in that
city, and his company and conversation were parti¬
cularly acceptable to the ladies. So that Mr Baxter
appears to have studied the graces, though without
neglecting
BAY [ 477 ] B A Y
Baxter, neglecting more valuable acquisitions and accomplish-
Buy. ments. He was at once the scholar and the gentle-
—"Y—-J man. In conversation he was modest, and not apt to
make much show of the extensive knowledge of which
he was possessed. In the discharge of the several so¬
cial and relative duties of life, his conduct was exem¬
plary. He had the most reverential sentiments of the
Deity, of whose presence and immediate support he
had always a strong impression upon his mind j and
the general tenor of his life appears to have been con¬
formable to the rules of virtue. Mr Baxter paid a
strict attention to economy, though he dressed elegant¬
ly, and was not parsimonious in his other expences.
It is known also that there were several occasions on
which he acted with remarkable disinterestedness; and
so far was he from courting preferment, that he has
repeatedly declined considerable offers of that kind
which were made him, if he would have taken orders
in the church of England. The French, German, and
Dutch languages were spoken by him with much ease,
and the Italian tolerably ; and he wrote and read them
all, together with the Spanish. His friends and cor¬
respondents were numerous and respectable; and a-
mong them are particularly mentioned Mr Pointz, pre¬
ceptor to the late duke of Cumberland, and Dr War-
burton, bishop of Gloucester. He was a man also of
great benevolence and candour j which appears most
strikingly from this, inasmuch as though Mr Wilkes
had made himself so very obnoxious to the Scottish na¬
tion in general, yet Mr Baxter kept up with him an
affectionate correspondence to the last, even after he
was unable to write with his own hand. He left ma¬
ny manuscripts behind him ; he would gladly have fi¬
nished his work upon the human soul : “ I own,” says
he, in a letter to Mr Wilkes, “ if it had been the will
of heaven, I would gladly have lived till I had put in
order the second part of the Enquiry, showing the im¬
mortality of the human soul; hut Infinite Wisdom can¬
not be mistaken in calling me sooner. Our blindness
makes us form wishes.” It was indeed, what he con¬
sidered it, his capital work : a second edition of it was
published in two volumes 8vo in 1737, and a third in
1745. In another letter, speaking of his endeavours
to establish the particular providence of the Deity, and
to show his incessant influence and action on all the
parts of matter, through the wide universe, from the
inactivity of this dead substance j expresses his hope,
that when the present party-zeal subsides a little, men
will come more easily in to own such a plain truth.”
” His prediction,” the editors of the Biographia Bri-
tannica observe, “ hath not yet been accomplished.
Several eminent names seem rather disposed to increase
than to lessen the powers of matter; and they have ex¬
pressly maintained that the soul of man is material.
However, other names equally eminent have asserted
the essential distinction between the mind and the body.
Perhaps, in the revolutions of opinion, the doctrine of
immateriality may again obtain the general suffrage of
metaphysical and philosophical inquiry.”
BAY, in Geography, an arm of the sea shooting up
into the land, and terminating in a nook. It is a kind
of lesser gulf bigger than a creek, and is larger in its
middle within than at its entrance. The largest and
most noted bays in the world are those of Biscay, Ben¬
gal, Hudson’.s, Panama, <&c.,
Bay denotes likewise a pond-head made to keep in Bay
store of water for driving the wheels of the furnace or ||
hammer belonging to an iron mill, by the stream that Bayard,
comes thence through a flood-gate called the pen-stock. v
HAY-Colour denotes a sort of red inclining to ches-
nut, chiefly used in speaking of horses. In this sense,
the word bay is formed from the Latin baius, or badius,
and that from the Greek a palm branch ; so that
badius or bay properly denotes color phccniceus. Hence
also, among the ancients, those now called bay horses,
were denominated equipalmati. We have divers sorts
and degrees of bays ; as alight bay, a dapple bay, &c.
All bay horses are said to have black manes ; which
distinguishes them from sorrels, which have red or
white manes.
Bay, among huntsmen, is when the dogs have
earthed a vermin, or brought a deer, boar, or the like,
to turn head against them. In this case, not only the
deer, but the dogs, are said to bay. It is dangerous
going in to a hart at bay, especially at rutting-time ;
for then they are fiercest. There are bays at land, and
others in the water.
Bay-Tree. See Laurus, Botany Index.
Bay-Salt. See Salt.
BATA, or Baja, a town of Lower Hungary, in
the county of Bath, situated near the Danube. E,
Long. 19. 30. N. Lat. 46. 25.
BAYARD, Peter du Terrail de, esteeemed by
hts cotemporaries the model of soldiers and men of ho¬
nour, and denominated The knight without fear and
without reproach, was descended from an ancient and
noble family in Dauphine. He was with Charles VIII.
at the conquest of the kingdom of Naples ; where he
gave remarkable proofs of his valour, especially at the
battle of Fornoue. He was dangerously wounded at
the taking of the city of Brescia : and there restored to
the daughters of his host 2000 pistoles, which their
mother had directed them to give him in order to pre¬
vent the house from being plundered ; an action that
has been celebrated by many historians. At his return
to France, he was made lieutenant general of Dauphine.
He fought by the side of Francis I. at the battle of
Marignan ; and that prince afterwards insisted on being
knighted by his hand, after the manner of the ancient
knights. The chevalier Bayard defended Meziers du¬
ring six weeks, against Charles V.’s army. In 1524,
at the retreat of Rebec * (the general Bonivet having* Hast, of
been wounded and obliged to quit the field), the con- Charles V.
duct of the rear was committed to the chevalier Bayard, b°o11 v*
who, though so much a stranger to the arts of a court
that he never rose to the chief command, was always
called, in times of real danger, to the posts of greatest
difficulty and importance. He put himself at the head
of the men at arms ; and animating them by his pre¬
sence and example to sustain the whole shock of the ene¬
my’s troops, he gained time for the rest of his country¬
men to make good their retreat. But in this service
he received a wound which he immediately perceived
to be mortal; and being unable to continue any longer
on horseback, he ordered one of his attendants to place
him under a tree, with his face towards the enemy ; ,
then fixing his eyes on the guard of his sword, which
he held up instead of a cross, he addressed his prayers
to God ; and in this posture, which became his cha¬
racter both as a soldier and as a Christian, he calmly
waited;
BAY [ 473 ] BA Y
E%>ard waited the approacii of death. Bourbon, who led the
11 foremost of the enemy’s troops, found him in this si-
, tuation, and expressed regret and pity at the sight.
“ Pity not me,” cried the high-spirited chevalier, “ I
“ die as a man of honour ought, in the discharge of
“ my duty : they indeed are objects of pity, who fight
“ against their king, their country, and their oath.”
The marquis de Pescara, passing soon after, manifested
his admiration of Bayard’s virtue, as well as his sorrow
for his fate, with the generosity of a gallant enemy j
and finding that he could not he removed with safety
from that spot, ordered a tent to he pitched there, and
appointed proper persons to attend him. He died,
notwithstanding their care, as his ancestors for several
generations had done, in the field of battle. Pescara
ordered his body to be embalmed, and sent to his rela¬
tions •, and such was the respect paid to military merit
in that age, that the duke of Savoy commanded it to
be received with royal honours in all the cities of his
dominions: in Dauphine, Bayard’s native country, the
people of all ranks came out in a solemn procession to
meet it.
BAYEN, Peter, an eminent French chemist. See
Supplement.
BAYEUX, a considerable town of France in the
department of Calvados. The cathedral church is ac¬
counted extremely fine. Population in 1815, 10,600.
W. Long. o. 33. N. Lat. 49. 16.
BA\ LE, Peter, author of the Historical and Cri¬
tical Dictionary, was born November 18. 1657, at
Carla, a village in the county of Foix, in France,
where his father John Bayle was a Protestant minister.
In 1666, he went to the Protestant university at Puy-
laureus, where he studied with the greatest applica¬
tion ; and in 1669, removed to the university of Tou¬
louse, whither the Protestants at that time frequently
sent their children to study under the Jesuits : but
here, to the great grief of his father, he embraced the
liomish religion. However, being soon sensible of his
error, he left that university, and went to study at Ge¬
neva 5 after which he was chosen professor of philoso¬
phy at Sedan : but that Protestant university being sup¬
pressed by Louis XIV. in 1681, he was obliged to
leave the city j and was soon after chosen professor of
philosophy and history at Rotterdam, with a salary of
about 45I. a year. The year following he published his
Letter concerning Comets. And Father Maimbourg
having published about this time his History of Cal¬
vinism, wherein he endeavours to draw upon the Pro¬
testants the contempt and resentment of the Catholics,
Mr Bayle wrote a piece to confute his history. The
reputation which he had now acquired, induced the
States of Friezland, in 1684, to offer him a professor¬
ship in their university ; but he wrote them a letter of
thanks, and declined the offer. The same year he
began to publish his Nouvelles de la republique des let-
tres.
In 1686, he was drawn into a dispute in relation to
the famous Christina queen of Sweden. In his Journal
for April, he took notice of a printed letter supposed
to have been written by her Swedish majesty to the che¬
valier de Terlon, wherein she condemns the persecution
of the Protestants in France. He inserted the letter it¬
self in his Journal for May ; and in that of June follow¬
ing he says, “ \\ hat we hinted at in our last month
is confirmed to us from day to day, that Christina is g |e
the real author of the letter concerning the persecu-
tions in France, which is ascribed to her : it is a re¬
mainder of Protestantism.” Mr Bayle received an
anonymous letter $ the author of which says, that he
wrote to him of his own accord, being in duty bound
to it as a servant of the queen. He complains that
Mr Bayle, speaking of her majesty, called her only
Christina, without any title ; he finds abo great fault
with his calling the letter “ a remainder of Protestan¬
tism.” He blames him likewise for inserting the words
“ I am,” in the conclusion of the letter. “ These
words (says this anonymous writer) are not her maje¬
sty’s j a queen, as she is, cannot employ these words
but with regard to a very few persons, and Mr de Ter¬
lon is not of that number.” Mr Bayle wrote a vindi¬
cation of himself as to these particulars, with which
the author of the anonymous letter declared himself sa¬
tisfied, excepting what related to “ the remainder of
Protestantism.” He would not admit of the defence
with regard to that expression j and in another letter,
advised him to retract that expression. He adds in a
postscript, “ You mention, in your Journal of August,
a second letter of the queen, which you scruple to pub¬
lish. Her majesty would be glad to see that letter j
and you will do a thing agreeable to her if you would
send it to her. You might take this opportunity of
writing to her majesty. This counsel may be of some
use to you ; do not neglect it.” Mr Bayle took the
hint, and wrote a letter to her majesty, dated the 14th
of November 1686 j to which the queen, on the 14th
of December, wrote the following answer:—“ Mr
Bayle, I have received your excuses ; and am willing
you should know by this letter, that I am satisfied
with them. I am obliged to the zeal of the person
who gave you occasion of writing to me : for I am
very glad to know you. You express so much respect
and affection for me, that I pardon you sincerely ■, and
I would have you know, that nothing gave me of¬
fence but that remainder of Protestantism, of which
you accused me. I am very delicate on that head, be¬
cause nobody can suspect me of it, without lessening
my glory, and injuring me in the most sensible manner.
You would do well if you should even acquaint the pub¬
lic with the mistake you have made, and with your re¬
gret for it. This is all that remains to be done by
you, in order to deserve my being entirely satisfied
with you. As to the letter which you have sent me,
it is mine without doubt; and since you tell me that it
is printed, you will do me a pleasure if you send me
some copies of it. As I fear nothing in France, so
neither do I fear any thing at Rome. My fortune,
my blood, and even my life, are entirely devoted to
the service of the church •, but I flatter nobody, and
will never speak any thing but the truth. I am
obliged to those who have been pleased to publish my
letter, for I do not at all disguise my sentiments. I
thank God, they are too noble and too honourable to
be disowned. However, it is not true that this letter
was written to one of my ministers. As I have every¬
where enemies and persons who envy me, so in all pla¬
ces I have friends and servants : and I have possibly as
many in France, notwithstanding of the court, as any¬
where in the world. This is purely the truth, and you
may regulate yourself accordingly. But you shall not
get
BAY [
B^nle. get ofT so cheap as you imagine. I will enjoin you a
 ' penance j which is, that you will henceforth take the
trouble of sending me all curious books that shall be
published in Latin, French, Spanish, or Italian, on
whatever subject or science, provided they are worthy
of being looked into $ I do not even except romances
or satires j and above all, if there are any books of
chemistry, I desire you may send them to me as soon
as possible. Do not forget likewise to send me your
Journal. I shall order that you be paid for whatever
you lay out, do but send me an account of it. This
wnl be the most agreeable and most important service
that can be done me. May God prosper you.
Christina Alexandra.”
^ It now only remained that Mr Bayle should acquaint
the public with the mistake he had made, in order to
merit that princess’s entire satisfaction ; and this he
did in the beginning of his Journal of the month of
January, 1687.
The persecution which the Protestants at this time
suffered in France affected Mr Bayle extremely. He
made occasionally some reflections on their sufferings
in his Journal j and he wrote a pamphlet also on the
subject. Some time afterwards he published his Com-
mentaire Philosophique upon these words, “ Compel
them to come in $” but the great application he gave
to this and his other works, threw him into a fit of
sickness, which obliged him to discontinue his Liter¬
ary Journal. Being advised to try a change of air, he
left Rotterdam on the 8th of August, and went to
Cloves ; whence, after having continued some time, he
removed to Aix-la-Chapelle, and from thence return¬
ed to Rotterdam on the 18th of October. In the year
1690, the famous book, entitled, Avis uuk Refugios,
&c. made its appearance. Mr Jurieu, who took Mr
Bayle for the author thereof, wrote a piece against it j
and he prefixed an advice to the public, wherein he
calls Mr Bayle a profane person, and a traitor enga¬
ged in a conspiracy against the state. As soon as Mr
Bayle had read this libel against him, he went to the
grand sellout of Rotterdam, and offered to go to pri¬
son, provided his accuser would accompany him, and
undergo the punishment he deserved if the accusation
was found unjust. He publisjied also an answer to Mr
Jurieu’s charge j and as his reputation, nay his very
nfe, was at stake in case the accusation of treason was
proved, he therefore thought himself not obliged to
keep any terms with the accuser, and attacked him
with the utmost severity. Mr Jurieu lost all patience :
he applied himself to the magistrates of Amsterdam j
who advised him to a reconciliation with Mr Bayle,
and enjoined them not to publish any thing against
each other till it was examined by Mr Boyer, the pen¬
sioner of Rotterdam. But notwithstanding this prohi¬
bition, Mr Jurieu attacked Mr Bayle again with so
much passion, that he forced him to write a new vindi¬
cation of himself.
In November 1690, M. de Beauval advertised in
his Journal, A scheme for a Critical Dictionary. This
was the work of Mr Bayle. The articles of the three
first letters of the alphabet were already prepared ; but
a dispute happening betwixt him and M. de Beauval,
obliged him for some time to lay aside the wmrk. Nor
did he resume it till May 1692, when he published his
479 ] BAY
scheme : but the public not approving of his plan, he
threw it into a different form ; and the first volume was
published in August 1695, and the second in October
following. The work was extremely well received by v"
the public; but it engaged him in fresh disputes, par¬
ticularly with Mr Jurieu and the abbe Renaudot. Mr
Jurieu published a piece, wherein he endeavoured to
engage the ecclesiastical assemblies to condemn the dic¬
tionary j he presented it to the senate sitting at Delft,
but they took no notice of the affair. The consistory
of Rotterdam granted Mr Bayle a hearing; and after
having heard his answers to their remarks on his dic¬
tionary, declared themselves satisfied, and advised him
to communicate this to the public. Mr Jurieu made
another attempt with the consistory in 1698 ; and so
far he prevailed with them, that they exhorted Mr
Bayle to be more cautious with regard to his princi¬
ples in the second edition of his dictionary ; which was
published in 1702, with many additions and improve¬
ments.
Mr Bayle was a most laborious and indefatigable
writer. In one of his letters to Maizeux, he says,
that since his 20th year he hardly remembers to have
had any leisure. His intense application contributed
perhaps to impair his constitution, for it soon began to
decline. He had a decay of the lungs, which weak¬
ened him considerably ; and as this was a distemper
which had cut off'several of his family, he judged it to
be mortal, and would take no remedies. He died the
28th of December 1706, after he had been writing the
greatest part of the day. He wrote several books be¬
sides what we have mentioned, many of which were in
his own defence against attacks he had received from
the abbe Renaudot, Mr Clerk, M. Jaquelot, and 0-
thers. Among the productions which do honour to
the age of Louis XIV. M. Voltaire has not omitted
the Critical Dictionary of our author: “ It is the first
work of the kind (he says) in which a man may learn
to think.” He censures indeed those articles which
contain only a detail of minute facts, as unworthy ei¬
ther of Bayle, an understanding reader, or posterity.
“ In placing him (continues the same author) amongst
the writers who do honour to the age of Louis XIV.
notwithstanding his being a refugee in Holland, I
only conform to the decree of the parliament of Tou¬
louse, which, when it declared his will valid in France,
notwithstanding the rigour of the laws, expressly said,
that such a man could not be considered as a foreian-
Bnyle
H
Bay on.
er.
BAYLY, Lewis, author of that most memorable
book, entitled “ The Practice of Piety.” He was
born at Caermarthen in Wales, educated at Oxford,
made minister ol'Evesham in Worcestershire about 1611,
became chaplain to King James, and was promoted to
the see of Bangor in 1616. His book is dedicated to
the high and mighty prince, Charles prince of Wales j
and the author tells his highness, “ that he had en¬
deavoured to extract out of the chaos of endless contro¬
versies the old practice of true piety, which flourished
before these controversies were hatched.” The design
was good ; and the reception this book has met with
may be known from the number of its editions, that in
8vo, 1734, being the fifty-ninth. This prelate died in
1632.
BAYON, a town of France, in Lorrain, now the
department
BAY [ 480 ] B A Z
Bayon department of Meurthe, seated on the river Moselle.
11 E. Long. 14. 42. N. Lat. 48. 30.
,Bayonne. Bayon, or Bayona, a town of Galicia, in Spain,
seated on a small gulf of the Atlantic ocean, about 12
miles from Tuy. It has a very commodious harbour,
and the country about it is fertile. W. Long. 9. 30.
N. Lat. 43. 3.
BAYONET, in the military art, a short broad
dagger, formerly with a round handle fitted for the
bore of a firelock, to be fixed there after the soldier
had fired ; but they are now made with iron handles
and rings, that go over the muzzle of the firelock 5 and
are screwed fast, so that the soldier fires with his bayo¬
net on the muzzle of his piece, and is ready to act
against the horse. This use of the bayonet fastened on
the muizle of the firelock was a great improvement,
first introduced by the French, and to which, accord¬
ing to M. Folard, they owed a great part of their vic¬
tories in the last century $ and to the neglect of this in
the next succeeding war, and trusting to their fire, the
same author attributes most of the losses they sustain¬
ed. At the Siege of Malta, a weapon called/?//c ignea
was contrived to oppose the bayonets, being in some
measure the converse thereof; as the latter consists of
a dagger added to a fire-arm, the former consisted of a
fire-arm added to a pilum or pike.
Of late the bayonet has come into very general use 5
and battles have been won by it without firing a shot.
This way of fighting was chiefly restored by the late
king of Prussia, who made his troops rush forward at
once with bayonets on the enemy.
BAYONNE, a city of Gascony, in France, now
the department of the Lower Pyrenees *, seated near
the mouth of the river Adour, which forms a good
harbour. In 1815 it contained 18,600 inhabitants, in¬
cluding the suburbs. It is divided into three parts. The
great town is on this side the river Nive 5 the little town
is between the Nive and the Adour j and the suburb of
Saint Esprit is beyond this last river. Both the former
are surrounded with an old wall and a dry ditch, and
there is a small castle in each. That of Great Bayonne
is flanked with four round towers, and is the place
where the governor resides. The new castle is flanked
with four towers, in the form of bastions. The first
enclosure is covered with another, composed of eight
bastions, with a great horn-work, and a half-moon ; all
which are encompassed with a ditch, and a covered
way. There is communication between the city and
the suburbs by a bridge, and the suburbs are well forti¬
fied. The citadel is seated beyond the Adour, on the
side of the suburbs above mentioned. The public
buildings have nothing remarkable ; it is the only ci¬
ty in the kingdom that has the advantage of two ri¬
vers, wherein the tide ebbs and flows. The river Nive
is deeper than the Adour, but less rapid, by which
means ships come up into the middle of the city. There
are two bridges over the river, by which the old and
new towns communicate with each other. The trade
of this town is the more considerable) on account of
its neighbourhood to Spain, and the great quantity
of wines which are brought hither from the adjacent
country. The Dutch carry off a great number of
pipes in exchange for spices and other commodities,
which they bring thither. The inhabitants had for¬
merly the privilege of guarding two of their three
3
1
i
gates, and the third was kept by the king. W. Long. BaroJih^
1. 20. N. Lat 43. 20.
BAYS, in Commerce, a sort of open woollen stuff, Baz^n.j
having a long nap, sometimes frized, and sometimes ^»ee
not. This stuff' is without wale $ and is wrought in a "
loom with two treddles, like flannel. It is chiefly ma¬
nufactured at Colchester and Bockin in Essex, where
there is a hall called the Dutch-bay hall or raw-halh
This manufacture was first introduced into England,
with that of says, serges, &c. by the Flemings j who
being persecuted by the duke of Alva for their re¬
ligion, fled thither about the fifth of Queen Eliza¬
beth’s reign ; and had afterwards peculiar privileges
granted them by act of parliament 12 Charles II. r66o,
which the bays-makers in the above places still enjoy.
The exportation of bays was formerly much tnore con¬
siderable than at present when the French have learned
to imitate them. However, the English bays are still
sent in great quantities to Spain and Portugal, and
even to Italy. Their chief use is for dressing the
monks and nuns, and for linings, especially in the ar¬
my. The looking-glass makers also use them behind
their glasses, to preserve the tin or quicksilver ; and
the casemakers to line their cases. The breadth of
bays is commonly a yard and a half, a yard and three
quarters, or two yards, by 42 to 48 in length. Those
of a yard and three quarters are most proper for the
Spanish trade.
BAZAR, or Basar, a denomination among the
Turks and Persians, given to a kind of exchanges, or
places where their finest stuffs and other wares are
sold. These are also called benestins. The word bcrzar
seems of Arabic origin, where it denotes sale, or ex¬
change of goods. Some of the eastern bazars are
open, like the market-places in Europe, and serve for
the same uses, more particularly for the sale of the
bulky and less valuable commodities. Others are co¬
vered with lofty ceilings, or even domes, pierced to
give light; and it is in these the jewellers, goldsmiths,
and otfier dealers in the richer wares, have their shops.
The bazar or maidan of Ispahan is one of the finest
places in Persia, and even surpasses all the exchanges
in Europe j yet notwithstanding,its magnificence, it
is excelled by the bazar of Tauris, which is the largest
that is known, having several times held 30,000 men
ranged in order of battle. At Constantinople, there
is the old and the new bazar, which are large square
buildings, covered with domes, and sustained by arches
and pilasters.
BAZAS, a town of Guienne in France, now the
department of Gironde, and formerly a bishop’s see. It
is built on a rock, five miles from the Garonne, and
42 south-east of Bourdeaux, in W. Long. o. 30. N.
Lat. 44. 20.
BAZAT, or Baza, in Commerce, a long, fine spun
cotton, which comes from Jerusalem, whence it is also
called Jerusalem-cotton.
BAZEEGURS, a tribe of Indians in Hindostan.
See Supplement.
BAZGENDGES, in Natural History, the name of
a substance used by the Turks and other eastern nations
in their scarlet-dyeing. They mix it for this purpose
with cochineal and tartar; the proportions being two
ounces of the bazgendges to one ounce of cochineal.
These are generally esteemed a sort of fruit, that are
produced
B E A [ 481 ] B' E A
produced on certain trees in Syria and other places j
dges and It is usually supposed, that the scarcity and dearness
R of them is the only thing that makes them not used in
:acons', Europe. But the bazgendges seem to be no other than
n the horns of the turpentine tree in the eastern parts of
the world ; and it is not only in Syria that they are
found, but China also affords them. Many things of
this kind were sent over to Mr Geoffroy at Paris from
China as the substances used in the scarlet-dyeing of that
country, and they all proved wholly the same with the
Syrian and Turkish bazgendges, and with the common
turpentine horns. The lentisk, or mastic tree, is also fre¬
quently found producing many horns of a like kind with
these, and of the same origin, all being owing to the pu-
cerons, which make their way into the leaves to breed
their young there.
BDELLIUM, a gummy resinous juice, produced
by a tree in the East Indies, of which we have no sa¬
tisfactory account. It is brought into Europe both
from the East Indies and Arabia. It is in pieces of
different sizes and figures, externally of a dark reddish
brown, somewhat like myrrh ; internally it is clear,
and not unlike to glue 5 to the taste it is slightly bit¬
terish and pungent ; its odour is very agreeable. If
held in the mouth, it soon becomes soit and tenacious,
sticking to the teeth. Laid on a red-hot iron, it rea¬
dily catches flame, and burns with a crackling noise,
and in proportion to its goodness it is more or less
fragrant. Near half of its substance dissolves either in
water or in spirit of wine *, but the tincture made with
spirit is somewhat stronger, and by much more agree¬
able. Vinegar, or verjuice, dissolves it wholly. The
simple gum is a better medicine than any preparation
from it. It is one of the weakest of the deobstruent
gums, but is used as a pectoral and an emmena-
gogue.
BE ACHY -HEAD, a promontory on the coast of Sus¬
sex, between Hastings and Shoreham, where the French
defeated the English and Dutch fleet in 1690.
BEACON, a signal for the better securing the king¬
dom from foreign invasions. See Signal.
On certain eminent places of the country are placed
long poles erect, whereon are fastened pitch-barrels
to be fired by night, and smoke made by day, to give
notice in a few hours to the whole kingdom of an ap¬
proaching invasion. These are commonly called bea¬
cons; whence also comes beaconage —We find beacons
familiarly in use among the primitive Britons and
Western Highlanders. The besieged capital of one of
our northern isles in the third century actually lighted
up a fire upon a tower •, and Fingal instantly knew
“ the green flame edged with smoke” to be a token
of attack and distress *. And there are to this day
!‘ P* several cairns or heaps of stones upon the heights along
the coasts of the Harries, on which the inhabitants used
to burn heath as a signal of an approaching enemy.
Beacons are also marks and signs erected on the
coasts, for guiding and preserving vessels at sea, by night
as well as by dav.
The erection of beacons, light-houses, and sea-marks,
is a branch of the royal prerogative. The king hath
the exclusive power, by commission under his great seal,
to cause them to be erected in fit and convenient places,
as well upon the lands of the subject as upon the de¬
mesnes of the crown : which power is usually vested by
Vol. HI. Part II. f
letters patetit in the office of lord high admiral. And Beacon*
by statute SEliz. c. 13. the corporation of the Trinity- R
house are impowered to set up any beacons or sea-
marks wherever they shall think them necessary 5 and
if the owner of the land or any other person shall de¬
stroy them, or shall take down any steeple, tree, or other
known sea-mark, he shall forfeit look or, in case of in¬
ability to pay it, shall be ipso facto outlawed.
BEACONAGE, money paid towards the mainte¬
nance of a beacon. See BEACON.---The word is deri¬
ved from the Saxon beacnian^ to nod, or show by a sign ;
hence also the word beckon.
BEACONSIIELD, a town of Buckinghamshire in
England, seated on a hill in the road between London
and Oxford. It contained 1461 inhabitants in 1811.
W. Long. o. 25. N. Lat. 51. 36.
BEAD, a small globule or ball used in necklaces j
and made of different materials, as pearl, steel, garnet,
coral, diamond, amber, crystal, pastes, glass, &c.—
The Bomanists make great use of beads in rehearsing
their Ave-Marias^ and Pater-nosters; and the like usage
is found among the dervises and other religious through¬
out the East, as well Mahometan as Heathen. The an¬
cient Druids appear also to have had their beads, many
of which are still found j at least if the conjecture of an
ingenious author may be admitted, who takes those an¬
tique glass globules, having a snake painted round them,
and called adder-beads, or snake-buttons, to have been
the beads of our ancient Druids. SeeANGUis, Ophio-
LOGY Index.
Beads are also used in speaking of those glass glo¬
bules vended to the savages on the coast of Africa ; thus
denominated, because they are strung together for the
convenience of traffic.
The common black glass of which beads are made
for necklaces, &c* is coloured with manganese only :
one part of manganese is sufficient to give a black co¬
lour to near twenty of glass.
Bead, in Architecture, a round moulding, commonly
made upon the edge of a piece of stuff, in the Corin¬
thian and Roman orders, cut or carved in short emboss¬
ments, like beads in necklaces.
Bbad-Makers, called by the French paternostriers,
are those employed in the making, stringing, and selling
of beads. At Paris before the revolution there were
three companies of paternostriers, or bead-makers ; one
who made them of glass or crystal 5 another in wood
and horn ; and the third in amber, coral, jet, &c.
BEAD-Procf a term used by our distillers to express
that sort of proof of the standard strength of spiritu¬
ous liquors, which consists in their having, when shaken
in a phial, or poured from on high into a glass, a crown
of bubbles, which stand on the surface some time after.
This is esteemed a proof that the spirit consists of equal
parts of rectified spirits and phlegm. This is a fal¬
lacious rule as to the degree of strength in the goods 5
because any thing that will increase the tenacity of the
spirit, will give it this proof, though it be under the
due strength. Our malt-distillers spoil the greater
part of their goods, by leaving too much of the stink¬
ing oil of the malt in their spirit, in order to give it
this proof when somewhat under the standard strength.
But this is a great deceit on the purchasers of malt spi¬
rits, as they have them by this means not only weaker
than thev ought to be, but stinking with an oil that
3 ** tliey
B E A [ 482 ] B E A
Bea l Proof they are not easily cleared of afterwards. On the other
hand, the dealers in brandy, who usually have the art
Bcelc, 0f sophisticating it to a great nicety, are in the right
when they buy it by the strongest bead-proof, as the
grand mark of the best j for being a proof of the bran¬
dy containing a large quantity of its oil, it is, at the
same time, a token of its high flavour, and of its being
capable of bearing a very large addition of the common
spirits of our own produce, without betraying their fla¬
vour, or losing its own. We value the French brandy
for the quantity of this essential oil of the grape which
it contains ; and that with good reason, as it is with us
principally used for drinking as an agreeably flavoured
cordial : but the French themselves, when they want it
for any curious purposes, are as careful in the rectifica¬
tion of it, and take as much pains to clear it from this
oil, as we do to free our malt spirits from that nauseous
and fetid oil which it originally contains.
Bead-RoU, among Papists, a list of such persons, for
the rest of whose souls they are obliged to repeat a cer¬
tain number of prayers, which they count by means of
their beads.
BsAD-Tree. See Melia, Botany Index.
BEADLE, (from the Saxon bydel, a messenger}, a
crier or messenger of a court, who cites persons to ap¬
pear and answer. Called also a summoner or apparitor.
■—Beadle is also an officer at an university, whose chief
business is to walk before the masters with a mace, at
all public processions.—There are also church beadles,
whose office is well known.
BEAGLES, a small sort of hounds or hunting dogs.
Beagles are of divers kinds ; as the southern beagle,
something less and shorter, but thicker than the deep-
mouthed hound; the jleet northern ovcat beagle, smaller,
and of a finer shape than the southern, and a harder run¬
ner. From the two, by crossing the strains, is bred a
third sort held preferable to either. To these may be
added a still smaller sort of beagles, scarce bigger than
lap-dogs, which make pretty diversion in hunting the
coney, or even the small hare in dry weather ; but
otherwise unserviceable, by reason of their size.
BEAK, the bill or nib of a bird. See Ornitho¬
logy Index.
Beak, or Beak-head, of a ship, that part without the
ship, before the fore-castle, which is fastened to the
stem, and is supported by the main-knee.
The beak, called by the Greeks by the La¬
tins rostrum, was an important part in the ancient ships
of vvar, which were hence denominated naves rostratce.
The beak was made of wood ; but fortified with brass,
and fastened to the prow, serving to annoy the enemy’s
vessels. Its invention is attributed to Pisgeus an Italian.
The first beaks were made long and high ; but after¬
wards a Corinthian, named Arista, contrived to make
them short and strong, and placed so low, as to pierce
the enemies vessels under water. By the help of these
great havock was made by the Syracusans in the Athe¬
nian fleet.
BEAKED, in Heraldrxj, a term used to express the
beak or bill of a bird. When the beak and legs of a
fowl are of a different tincture from the body, we say
beaked and membered of such a tincture.
BEALE, Mary, particularly distinguished by her
skill in painting, was the daughter of Mr Craddock,
minister of Waltham upon Thames3 and learned the ru¬
diments of her art from Sir Peter Lely. She painted
in oil, water-colours, and crayons, and had much busi¬
ness; her portraits were in the Italian style, which she
acquired by copying pictures and drawings from Sir
Peter Lely’s and the royal collections. Her master,
says Mr Walpole, was supposed to have had a tender
attachment to her ; but as he was reserved in commu¬
nicating to her all the resources of his pencil, it pro¬
bably was a gallant rather than a successful one. Dr
Woodfall wrote several pieces to her honour, under the
name of Belesia. Mrs Beale died in Pall-mall, on the
28th of December 1697, aged 65. Her paintings have
much nature, but the colouring is stiff and heavy.
BEALT, Bealth, or Builth, a town of Brecknock¬
shire in South Wales, pleasantly seated on the river
Wye. It contained 815 inhabitants in 1811, who are
chiefly employed in the manufacture of stockings. W.
Long. 4. 10. N. Lat. 52. 4.
BEAM, in Architecture, the largest piece of wood
in a building, which lies cross the walls, and serves to
support the principal rafters of the roof, and into which
the feet of these rafters are framed. No building has
less than two of these beams, viz. one at each end; and
into these the girders of the garret roof are also framed.
The proportions of beams in or near London, are fixed
by statute, as follows : a beam 15 feet long, must be
7 inches on one side its square, and 5 on the other; if
it be 16 feet long, one side must be 8 inches, the other
6, and so proportionally to their lengths. In the coun¬
try, where wood is more plenty, they usually make their
beams stronger.
Beams of a Ship are the great main cross-timbers
which hold the sides of the ship from falling together,
and which also support the decks and orlops : the main
beam is next the main-mast, and from it they are rec¬
koned by first, second, third beam, &c.: the greatest
beam of all is called the midship beam.
BEAM-Compass, an instrument consisting of a square
wooden or brass beam, having sliding sockets, that car¬
ry steel or pencil points ; they are used for describing
large circles, where the common compasses are useless.
Beam-Bird, or Petty-chaps. See Motacilla.
Beam also denotes the lath, or iron, of a pair of
scales: sometimes the whole apparatus for weighing of
goods is so called : Thus we say, it weighs so much at
the king’s beam.
Beam of a Plough, that in which all the parts of the
plough-tail are fixed. See Plough, Agriculture
Index.
Beam, or Roller, among weavers, a long and thick
wooden cylinder, placed lengthwise on the back-part of
the loom of those who work with a shuttle. That cy¬
linder, on which the stuff’ is rolled as it is weaved, is
also called the beam or roller, and is placed on the fore¬
part of the loom.
BEAM INST ER, a town of Dorsetshire in England,
seated on the river Bert. Population 229a in 1811.
W. Long. 2. 50% N. Lat. 52. 45.
BEAN. See Vicia, Botany Index.
The ancients made use of beans in gathering the
votes of the people, and for the election of magi¬
strates. A white bean signified absolution, and a black
one condemnation. Beans had a mysterious use in the
lemuralia and parent alia; where the master of the
family, after washing, tvas to throw a sort of black
beans
Bealej
B E A [ 483 ] B E A
Beans, beans over Ins head, still repeating the words, “ I re-
^v—' deem myself and family by these beans.” Ovid* gives
Fatt. M). a lively description of the whole ceremony in verse.—
4’ 435- Abstinence from beans was enjoined by Pythagoras, one
of whose symbols is, kvx[awv a7ri(?%io-6M, abstine a fabis.
The Egyptian priests held it a crime to look at beans,
judging the very sight unclean. The jiamen dialis was
not permitted even to mention the name. The precept
of Pythagoras has been variously interpreted : some
understand it of forbearing to meddle in trials and ver¬
dicts, which were then by throwing beans into an urn,
others, building on the equivoque of the word wstfioz,
which equally signifies a bean and a human testicle, ex¬
plain it by abstaining from venery. Clemens Alexan-
drinus grounds the abstinence from beans on this, that
they render women barren j which is confirmed by
Theophrastus, who extends the effect even to plants.
Cicero suggests another reason for this abstinence, viz.
that beans are great enemies to tranquillity of mind.
For a reason of this kind it is, that Amphiaraus is said
to have abstained from beans, even before Pythagoras,
that he might enjoy a clearer divination by dreams.
Beans, as food for horses. See Farriery.
BEAN-Caper. See Zygophyllum, Botany Index.
BEAN-Cod, a small fishing vessel, or pilot-boat, com¬
mon on the sea-coasts and in the rivers of Portugal. It
is extremely sharp forward, having its stem bent inward
above into a great curve : the stem is also plated on the
fore-side with iron, into which a number of bolts are
driven, to fortify it, and resist the stroke of another
vessel, which may fall athwart-hause. It is commonly
navigated with a large lateen sail, which extends over
the whole length of the deck, and is accordingly well
fitted to ply to windward.
BsAN-Flour, called by the Homans lomentum, was
of some repute among the ancient ladies as a cos¬
metic, wherewith to smooth the skin, and take away
wrinkles.
Bean-FIi/, in Natural History, the name given by
authors to a very beautiful fly, of a pale purple colour,
frequently found on bean-flowers. It is produced from
the worm or maggot called by authors mida.
Bean-Goosc. See Anas, Ornithology Index.
Kidney-Bean. See Phaseolus.
Malacca-BEANS, or Anacardia, the fruit of a tree
growing in Malabar and other parts of the East Indies,
supposed by some to be the Avicennia tomentosa;
by others, the Bontia germinans. The fruit is of a
shining black colour, of the shape of a heart flattened,
about an inch long, terminating at one end in an ob¬
tuse point, and adhering by the other to a wrinkled
stalk : it contains within two shells a kernel of a sweet¬
ish taste: betwixt the shells is lodged a thick and acrid
juice.
The medicinal virtues of anacardia have been great¬
ly disputed. Many have attributed to them the facul¬
ty of comforting the brain and nerves, fortifying the
memory, and quickening the intellect : and hence a
confection made from them has been dignified with the
title of confectio sapientmn : others think it better de¬
serves the name of confectio stultorum, and mention in¬
stances of its continued use having rendered people ma¬
niacal. But the kernel of anacardium is not different
in quality from that of almonds. The ill effects attri¬
buted to this fruit belong only to the juice contained
betwixt the kernels, whose acrimony is so great, that it Beans
is said to be employed by the Indians as a caustic. This |)
juice is recommended externally for tetters, freckles, and ^ca!'r*-
other cutaneous deformities ; which it removes only by
exulcerating or excoriating the part, so that a new skin
comes underneath.
BEAR, in Zoology. See Ursus, Mammalia In¬
dex.
Sea-BEAR. See Phoca, Mammalia Index.
Bear, in Astronomy. See Ursa, Astronomy hi-
dex.
Order of the Bear was a military order in Switzer¬
land, erected by the emperor Frederick II. in 1213, by
way of acknowledgment for the service the Swiss had
done him, and in favour of the abbey of St Gal. To
the collar of the order hung a medal, on which was re¬
presented a bear raised on an eminence of earth.
Bear's-Breech. See Acanthus, Botany Index.
Bear's Flesh was much esteemed by the ancients :
even at this day, the paw of a bear salted and smoked,
is served up at the tables of princes.
Bear's-Grease was formerly esteemed a sovereign re¬
medy against cold disorders, especially rheumatisms.
It is now much used in dressing ladies and gentlemen’s
hair.
BEAR's-Skin makes a fur in great esteem, and on
which depends a considerable article of commerce, being
used in housings, on coach-boxes, &c. In some coun¬
tries, clothes are made of it, more especially bags
wherein to keep the feet warm in severe colds. Of
the skins of bears cubs are made gloves, muffs, and the
like.
BEARALSTON, a small town of Devonshire,
which, however, is a borough by prescription, and sends
two members to parliament.
BEARD, the hair growing on the chin and adjacent
parts of the face, chiefly of adults and males.
Various have been the ceremonies and customs of
most nations in regard of the beard. The Tartars, out
of a religious principle, waged a long and bloody war
with the Persians, declaring them infidels, merely be¬
cause they would not cut their whiskers after the rite
of Tartary ; and wTe find, that a considerable branch
of the religion of the ancients consisted in the manage¬
ment of their beards. The Greeks wore their beards
till the time of Alexander the Great $ that prince having
ordered the Macedonians to be shaved, for fear it should
give a handle to their enemies. According to Pliny,
the Romans did not begin to shave till the year of
Rome 454, when P. Ticinius brought over a stock of
barbers from Sicily.—Persons of quality had their chil¬
dren shaved the first time by others of the same or
greater quality, who, by this means, became godfather
or adoptive father of the children. Anciently, indeed,
a person became godfather of the child by barely touch¬
ing his beard : thus historians relate, that one of the
articles of the treaty between Alaric and Clovis was,
that Alaric should touch the beard of Clovis to become
his godfather.
As to ecclesiastics, the discipline has been very dif¬
ferent on the article of beards : sometimes they have
been enjoined to wear them, from a notion of too much
effeminacy in shaving, and that a long beard was more
suitable to the ecclesiastical gravity j and sometimes
again they were forbid it, as imagining pride to lurk
3 P 2 beneath
B E A [ 484 ] B E A
Beard, beneath a venerable beard. The Greek and Roman
'—v—churches have been long together by the ears about
their beards ; since the time of their separation, the Ro¬
manists seem to have given more into the practice of
shaving, by way of opposition to the Greeks 5 and have
even made some express constitutions de radendis barbis.
The Greeks, on the contrary, espouse very zealously the
cause of long beards, and are extremely scandalized at
the beardless images of saints in the Roman churches.
By the statutes of some monasteries, it appears, that the
lay-monks were to let their beards grow, and the priests
among them to shave and that the beards of all that
were received into the monasteries, were blessed with a
great deal of ceremony. There are still extant the pray¬
ers used in the solemnity of consecrating the beard to
God, when an ecclesiastic was shaven.
Le Compte observes, that the Chinese affect long
beards extravagantly *, but nature has balked them, and
only given them very little ones, which, however, they
cultivate with infinite care : the Europeans are strange¬
ly envied by them on this account, and esteemed the
greatest men in the world. Chrysostom observes, that
the kings of Persia had their beards wove or matted to¬
gether with gold thread $ and some of the first kings of
France had their beards knotted and buttoned with
gold.
Among the Turks, it is more infamous for any one
to have his beard cut off, than among us to be publicly
whipt or branded with a hot iron. There are abund¬
ance in that country, who would prefer death to this
kind of punishment. The Arabs make the preservation
of their beards a capital point of religion, because Ma¬
homet never cut his. Hence the razor is never drawn
over the Grand Signior’s face. The Persians, who clip
them, and shave above the jaw, are reputed heretics.
It is likewise a mark of authority and liberty among
them, as well as among the Turks. They who serve in
the seraglio, have their beards shaven, as a sign of their
servitude. They do not suffer it to grow till the sultan
has set them at liberty, which is bestowed as a reward
upon them, and is always accompanied with some em¬
ployment.
The most celebrated ancient writers, and several
modern ones, have spoken honourably of the fine beards
of antiquity. Homer speaks highly of the white beard
of Nestor and that of old King Priam. Virgil de¬
scribes Mezentius’s to us, which was so thick and long
as to cover all his breast; Chrysippus praises the noble
beard of Timothy, a famous player on the flute. Pliny
the Younger tells us of the white beard of Euphrates, a
Syrian philosopher; and he takes pleasure in relating
the respect mixed with fear with which it inspired the
people. Plutarch speaks of the long white beard of
an old Laconian, who being asked why he let it grow
so, replied, 'Tis that, seeing continually my white beard,
I may do nothing unworthy of its whiteness. Strabo
relates, that the Indian philosophers, the Gymnosophists,
were particularly attentive to make the length of their
beards contribute to captivate the veneration of the
people. Diodorus, after him,'-gives a very particular
and circumstantial history of the beards of the Indians.
Juvenal does not forget that of Antilochus the son of
Nestor. Fenelon, in describing a priest of Apollo in
all his magnificence, tells us that he had a white beard
iown to his girdle. But Persius seems to outdo all
3
these authors : this poet was so convinced that a beard
was the symbol of wisdom, that he thought he could
not bestow a greater encomium on the divine Socrates,
than by calling him the bearded master, Magisti'itm
barbatum.
While the Gauls were under their sovereignty,
none but the nobles and Christian priests were per¬
mitted to wear long beards. The Franks having
made themselves masters of Gaul, assumed the same
authority as the Romans j the bondsmen were ex¬
pressly ordered to shave their chins j and this law
continued in force until the entire abolishment of ser¬
vitude in France. So likewise, in the time of the first
race of kings, a long beard was the sign of nobility and
freedom. The kings, as being the highest nobles in
their kingdom, were emulous likewise to have the lar¬
gest beard : Eginard, secretary to Charlemagne, speak¬
ing of the last kings of the first race, says, they came
to the assemblies in the Field of Mars in a carriage
drawn by oxen, and sat on the throne with their hair
dishevelled, and a very long beard, crine prof iso, barba
submissa, solio residerent, etspeciem dominantis ejfinge-
rent.
To touch any one’s beard, or cut off a bit of it,
was, among the first French, the most sacred pledge of
protection and confidence. For a long time all letters
that came from the sovereign had, for greater sanction,
three hairs of his beard in the seal. There is still in
being a charter of 1121, which concludes with the
following words : Quod ut ratum et stabile perseveret
in posterum, prcesentis scripto sigilli mei robur apposui
cum tribus pilis burbce mece.
Several great men have honoured themselves with
the surname of Bearded. The emperor Constantine
is distinguished hy the epithet of Pogonata, which sig¬
nifies the Bearded. In the time of the Crusades, we
find there was a Geffrey the Bearded: Baldwin IV.
earl of Flanders, was surnamed Handsome beard; and,
in the illustrious house of Montmorenci, there was a
famous Bouchard, who took a pride in the surname
of Bearded: he was always the declared enemy of
the monks, without doubt, because of their being
shaved.
In the tenth century, we find, that King Robert
(of I ranee) the rival of Charles the Simple, was not
more famous for his exploits than for his long white
beard. In order that it might be more conspicuous to
the soldiers when he was in the field, he used to let it
hang down outside his cuirass : this venerable sight en¬
couraged the troops in battle, and served to rally them
when they were defeated.
A celebrated painter in Germany, called John Mayo,
had such a large beard that he was nicknamed John
the Bearded; it was so long that he wore it fastened to
his girdle 5 and though he was a very tall man, it would
hang upon the ground when he stood upright. He took
the greatest care of this extraordinary beard ■, sometimes
he would untie it before the emperor Charles V. who
took great pleasuVe to see the wind make it fly against
the faces of the lords of his court.
In England, the famous chancellor Thomas More,
one of the greatest men of his time, being on the point
of falling a victim to court intrigues, was able, when
on the fatal scaffold, to procure respect to his beard in
presence of all the people, and saved it, as one may
»ay,
B E A [ 485 ] B E A
Beard, say, from the fatal stroke which he could not escape
■—v-““/ himself. When he had laid his head on the block, he
perceived that his beard was likely to be hurt by the
axe of the executioner j on which he took it away,
saying, My beard has not been guilty of treason ; it
would be an injustice to punish it.
But let us turn our eyes to a more flattering object,
and admire the beard of the best of kings, the ever
precious beard of the great Henry IV. of France,
which diffused over the countenance of that prince a
majestic sweetness and amiable openness, a beard ever
dear to posterity, and which should serve as a model
for that of every great king, as the beard of his illustri¬
ous minister should for that of every minister. But
what dependence is there to be put on the stability of
the things of this world ? By an event, as fatal as un¬
foreseen, the beard, which was arrived at its highest de¬
gree of glory, all of a sudden lost its favour, and was at
length entirely proscribed. The unexpected death of
Henry the Great, and the youth of his successor^ were
the sole causes of it.
Louis XIH. mounted the throne of his glorious an¬
cestors without a beard. Everv one concluded imme¬
diately, that the courtiers, seeing their young king with
a smooth chin, would look upon their own as too rough.
The conjecture proved right j for they presently reduced
their beards to whiskers, and a small tuft of hair under
the nether lip.
The people at first would not follow this dangerous
example. The duke of Sully never would adopt this
effeminate custom. This man, both great as a ge¬
neral and a minister, was likewise so in his retirement j
he had the courage to keep his long beard, and to ap¬
pear with it at the court of Louis XIII. where he was
called to give his advice in an affair of importance.
The young crop-bearded courtiers laughed at the sight
of his grave look and old-fashioned phiz. The duke,
nettled at the affront put on his fine beard, said to the
king, “ Sir, when your father, of glorious memory, did
me the honour to consult me on his great and important
affairs, the first thing he did was to send away all the
buffoons and stage-dancer's of his court.”
The Czar Peter, who had so many claims to the sur¬
name of Great, seems to have been but little worthy of
it on this occasion. He had the boldness to lay a tax
o«i the beards of his subjects. He ordered that the
noblemen and gentlemen, tradesmen and artisans (the
priests and peasants excepted) should pay 100 rubles
to be able to retain their beards ; that the lower class
of people should pay a copeck for the same liberty ;
and he established clerks at the gates of the different
towns to collect these duties. Such a new and singu¬
lar impost troubled the vast empire of Russia. Both
religion and manners were thought in danger. Com¬
plaints were heard from all parts; they even went so
far as to write libels against the sovereign j but he was
inflexible, and at that time powerful. Even the fatal
scenes of St Bartholomew were renewed against these
unfortunate beards, and the most unlawful violences
were publicly exercised. The razor and scissars were
everywhere made use of. A great number, to avoid
these cruel extremities, obeyed with reluctant sighs.
Some of them carefully preserved the sad trimmings
of their chins $ and, in order to be never separated from
. these dear locks, ordered that they should he placed Beard.
with them in their coffins. 1 
Example, more powerful than authority, produced
in Spain, what it had not been able to bring about in
Russia without great difficulty. Philip V. ascended
the throne with a shaved chin. The courtiers imitated
the prince, and the people, in turn, the courtiers.
However, though this revolution was brought about
without violence and by degrees, it caused much la¬
mentation and murmuring; the gravity of the Spaniards
lost by the change. The favourite customs of a nation
can never be altered without incurring displeasure..
I hey have this old saying in Spain : Jdesde qne no hay
barba, no hay mas alma. “ Since we have lost our
beards, we have lost our souls.”
Among the European nations that have been most
curious in beards and whiskers, we must distinguish'
Spain. Phis grave romantic nation has always regard¬
ed the beard as the ornament which should be most
prized; and the Spaniards have often made the loss of
honour consist in that of their whiskers. The Portu¬
guese, whose national character is much the same, are
not the least behind them in that respect. In the reign-
of Catherine queen of Portugal, the brave John do
Castro had just taken in India the castle of Diu : vic¬
torious, but in want of every thing, he found himself
obliged to ask the inhabitants of Goa to lend him a
thousand pistoles for the maintenance of his fleet; and,
as a security for that sum, he sent them one of his
whiskers, telling them, “ All the gold in the world
cannot equal the value of this natural ornament of my
valour ; and I deposit it in your hands as a security
for the money.” The whole town was penetrated
with his heroism, and every one interested himself a-,
bout this invaluable whisker: even the women were
desirous to give marks of their zeal for so brave a man:
several sold their bracelets to increase the sum asked
for; and the inhabitants of Goa sent him immediately
both the money and his whisker. A number of other
examples of this kind might be produced, which do
as much honour to whiskers as to the good faith of those
days.
In Louis XIII.’s reign, whiskers attained the highest
degree of favour, at the expence of the expiring
beards. In those days of gallantry, not yet empoison¬
ed by wit, they became the favourite occupation of
lovers. A fine black whisker, elegantly turned up,
rvas a very powerful mark of dignity with the fair sex.
Whiskers were still in fashion in the beginning of
Louis XIV.’s reign. This king, and all the great
men of his reign, took a pride in wearing them. They
were the ornament of Turenne, Conde, Colbert, Cor¬
neille, Moliere, &c. It was then no uncommon thing
for a favourite lover to have his whiskers turned up,
combed, and pomatumed, by his mistress; and; for
this purpose, a man of fashion took care to be always
provided with every little necessary article, especially
whisker-wax. It was highly flattering to a lady to have
it in her power to praise the beauty of her lovers’s whis¬
kers : which, far from being disgusting, gave his per¬
son an air of vivacity : several even thought them an
incitement to love. It seems the levity of the French
made them undergo several changes both in form and
name ; there were Spanish, Turkish, guard-dagger^ £fc,.
whiskers j 3
B E A r 436 ] B E A
whiskers ; In short, royal ones, which were the last
worn j their smallness proclaimed their approaching fall.
Consecration of the Beard was a ceremony among
the Roman youth, who, when they were shaved the first
time, kept a day of rejoicing, and were particularly
careful to put the hair of their beard into a silver or gold
box, and make an offering of it to some god, particular¬
ly to Jupiter Capitolinus, as was done by Nero, accord¬
ing to Suetonius.
Kissing the Beard. The Turkish wives kiss their
husbands beards, and children their fathers, as often as
they come to salute them. The men kiss one another’s
beards reciprocally on both sides, when they salute in
the streets, or come off from any journey.
The Fashion oj the Beard has varied in different
ages and countries j some cultivating and entertaining
one part of it, some another. Thus the Hebrews wear
a beard on their chin j but not on the upper lip or
cheeks. Moses forbids them to cut off entirely the
angle or extremity of their beard j that is, to manage
it after the Egyption fashion, who left only a little tuft
of beard at the extremity of their chin ; whereas the
Jews to this day suffer a little fillet of hair to grow
from the lower end of their ears to their chins, where,
as well as on their lower lips, their beards are in a pretty
long bunch. The Jews, in time of mourning, neglect¬
ed to trim their beards, that is, to cut off what grew
superfluous on the upper lips and cheeks. In time of
grief and great affliction they also plucked off the hair
of their beards.
Anointing the Beard with unguents was an ancient
practice both among the Jews and Romans, and still
continues in use among the Turks $ where one of the
principal ceremonies observed in serious visits is to
throw sweet-scented water on the beard of the visi¬
tant, and to perfume it afterwards with aloes-wood,
which sticks to this moisture, and gives it an agreeable
smell, &c. In middle-age writers we meet with ad-
lentare barbam, used for stroking and combing it, to
render it soft and flexible. The Turks, when they
comb their beards, hold a handkerchief on their knees,
and gather very carefully the hairs that fall $ and when
they have got together a certain quantity, they fold
them up in paper, and carry them to the place where
they bury the dead.
Beard of a Cornet^ the rays which the comet emits
towards that part of the heaven to which its proper mo¬
tion seems to direct it j in which the beard of a comet
is distinguished from the tail, which is understood of
the rays emitted towards that part from whence its mo¬
tion seems to carry it.
Beard of a Horse, that part underneath the lower
mandible on the outside and above the chin, which bears
the curb. It is also called the chuck. It should have
but little flesh upon it, without any chops, hardness,
or swelling1, and be neither too high raised nor too flat,
but such as the curb may rest in its right place.
Beard of a Muscle, Oyster, or the like, denotes an
assemblage of threads or hairs, by which these animals
fasten themselves to stones. The hairs of this beard
terminate in a flat spongy substance, which being ap¬
plied to the surface of a stone, sticks thereto, like the
wet leather used by boys.
Beards, in the history of insects, are two small,
■2
oblong, fleshy bodies, placed just above the trunk, as Beard
in the gnats, and in the moths and butterflies.
BEARDED, denotes a person or thing with a beard, Bearing. |
or some resemblance thereof. The faces on ancient ''“‘""V”—"1
Greek and Roman medals are generally bearded. Some
are denominated pogonati, as having long beards, e. g.
the Parthian kings. Others have only a lanugo about
the chin, as the Seleucid family. Adrian was the first
of the Roman emperors who nourished his beard 5
hence all imperial medals before him are beardless;
after him, bearded.
Bearded If omen have been all observed to want the
menstrual discharge ; and several instances are given
by Hippocrates, and other physicians, of grown women,
especially widows, in whom the menses coming to stop,
beards appeared. Eusebius Nierembergius mentions a
woman who had a beard reaching to her navel.
Of women remarkably bearded we have several in¬
stances. In the cabinet of curiosities of Stutgard in
Germany, there is the portrait of a woman called Bartel
Graetje, whose chin is covered with a very large beard.
She was drawn in 1587? which time she was but
25 years of age. There is likewise in the same cabi¬
net another portrait of her when she was more advan¬
ced in life, but likewise with a beard.—It is said, that
the duke of Saxony had the portrait of a poor Swiss
woman taken, remarkable for her long bushy beard j
and those who were at the carnival at Venice in 1726,
saw a female dancer astonish the spectators not more by
her talents than by her chin covered with a black bushy
beard.—Charles XII. had in his army a female grena¬
dier: it was neither courage nor a beard that she want¬
ed to be a man. She was taken at the battle of Pul-
towa, and carried to Petersburg, where she was pre¬
sented to the Czar in 1724: her beard measured a
yard and a half. We read in the Trevoux Dictionary,
that there was a woman seen at Paris, who had not
only a bushy beard on her face, but her body likewise
covered all over with hair. Among a number of other
examples of this nature, that of Margaret, the go¬
verness of the Netherlands, is very remarkable. She
had a very long stiff beard, which she prided herself
on j and being persuaded that it contributed to give her
an air of majesty, she took care not to lose a hair of it.
This Margaret was a very great woman.—It is said,
that the Lombard women, when they were at war, made
themselves beards with the hair of their heads, which
they ingeniously arranged on their cheeks, in order that
the enemy, deceived by the likeness, might take them
for men. It is asserted, after Suidas, that in a similar
case the Athenian women did as much. These women
were more men than our Jemmy Jessamy countrymen.-—
About a century ago, the French ladies adopted the
mode of dressing their hair in such a manner that curls
hung down their cheeks as far as their bosom. These
curls went by the name of whiskers. This custom un¬
doubtedly was not invented after the example of the
Lombard women, to fright the men. Neither is it with
intention to carry on a very bloody war, that in our
time they have affected to bring forward the hair of the
temple on the cheeks.
BEARERS, in Heraldry. See Supporters.
BEARING, in Navigation, an arch of the horizon
intercepted between the nearest meridian and any di¬
stinct
Bearn.
B E A [
5earing stinct object, either discovered by the eye, or resulting
U from the finical proportion ; as in the first case, at
_ 4 P. M. Cape Spado, in the isle of Candia, bore S. by
W. by the compass. In the second, the longitudes and
latitudes of any two places being given, and consequent¬
ly the difference of latitinle and longitude between them,
the bearing from one to the other is discovered by the
following analogy :
As the meridional difference of latitude
Is to the difference of longitude j
So is the radius
To the tangent bearing.
Bearing is also the situation of any distant object,
estimated from some part of the ship according to her
position. In this sense, an object so discovered must
be either ahead, astern, abreast on the bow, or on the
quarter. These bearings, therefore, which may be
called mechanical, are on the beam, before the beam,
abaft the beam, on the bow, on the quarter, ahead, or
astern. If the ship sails with a side-wind, it alters
the names of such bearings in some measure, since a
distant object on the beam is then said to be to leeward
or to windward j on the lee-quarter or bow, and on
the weather-quarter or bow.
Bearing, in the sea-language. When a ship sails
towards the shore, before the wind, she is said to bear
in with the land or harbour. To let the ship sail more
before the wind, is to bear up. To put her right be¬
fore the wind, is to bear round. A ship that keeps off
from the land, is said to bear off. When a ship that
was to windward comes under a ship’s stern, and so
gives her the wind, she is said to bear under her lee, &c.
There is another sense of this word, in reference to the
burden of a ship ; for they say a ship bears, when having
too slender or lean a quarter, she will sink too deep into
the water with an overlight freight, and thereby can
carry but a small quantity of goods.
Bearings, in Heraldry, a term used to express a
coat of arms, or the figures of armories by which the
nobility and gentry are distinguished from the vulgar
and from one another. See Heraldry.
Bearing Claws, among cock-fighters, denote the
foremost toes, on which the bird goes j and if they be
hurt or gravelled, he cannot fight.
Bearing of a Stag, is used in respect of the state of
his bead or the croches which he bears on his horns.
If you be asked what a stag bears, you are only to rec¬
kon the croches, and never to express an odd number j
as, if he have four croches on his near horn and five on
his far, you must say he bears ten j a false right on his
near horn : if but four on the near horn and six on the
far horn, you must say he bears twelve j a double false
right on the near born.
BEARN, a late province of France, bounded on the
east by Bigorre, on the south by the mountains of Ar-
ragon, on the west by Soule and part of Navarre, and
on the north by Gascony and Armagnac. It lies at the
foot of the Pyrenean mountains, being about 16 leagues
in length and 12 in breadth. It is in general a bar¬
ren country; yet the plains yield considerable quanti¬
ties of flax, and a good quantity of Indian corn called
mailloc. The mountains are rich in mines of iron, cop¬
per, and lead j some of them also are covered with
vines, and others with pine trees j and they give rise to
487 ] B E A
several mineral springs, and two considerable rivers, the
one called the Gave oj Oleron, and the other the Gave
of Bearn. Some wine is exported from this country ;
and the Spaniards buy up great numbers of the horses
and cattle, together with most of their linen, of which
there is a considerable manufactory. The principal
places are Pau, Lescar, Ortez, Novarreins, Sallies, and
Oleron. This province, with Basques, forms the de¬
partment of the Lower Pyrenees.
BExASI, in a general sense, an appellation given
to all four-footed animals, fit either for food, labour, or
sport.
Beasts of Burden, in a commercial sense, all four-
footed animals which serve to carry merchandises on
their backs. The beasts generally used for this purpose
are, elephants, dromedaries, camels, horses, mules, asses,
and the sheep of Mexico and Peru.
Beasts oj the Chase are five, viz. the buck, the doe,
the fox, the roe, and the marten.
Beasts and Fowls of the Warren, are the hare, the
coney, the pheasant, and partridge.
Beasts of the Forest, are the hart, hind, hare, boar,
and wolf.
Beast, among gamesters, a game at cards, played in
this manner : The best cards are the king, queen, &c.
whereof they make three heaps, the king, the play, and
troilet. Three, four, or five, may play 5 and to every
one is dealt five cards. However, before the play be¬
gins, every one stakes to the three heaps. He that wins
most tricks, takes up the heap called the play; he that
hath the king takes up the heap so called ; and he that
hath three of any sort, that is, three fours, three fives,
three sixes, &c. takes up the troilet heap.
BEAT, in a general signification, signifies to chas¬
tise, strike, knock, or vanquish.
This word has several other significations in the ma¬
nufactures, and in the arts and trades. Sometimes it
signifies to forge and hammer j in which sense smiths
and farriers say, to beat iron. Sometimes it means to
pound, to reduce into powder: thus we say, to beat
drugs, to beat pepper, to beat spices ; that is to say, to
pulverize them.
Beat, in fencing denotes a blow or stroke given
with the sword. There are two kinds of beats 5 the
first performed with the foible of a man’s sword on the
foible of his adversary’s, which in the schools is com¬
monly called baterie, from the French batre, and is
chiefly used in a pursuit, to make an open upon the
adversary. The second and best kind of beat, is per¬
formed with the fort of a man’s sword upon the foible
of his adversary’s, not with a spring, as in binding,
but with a jerk or dry beat; and is therefore most pro¬
per for the parades without or within the sword, be¬
cause of the rebound a man’s sword has thereby from
his adversary’s, whereby he procures to himself the bet¬
ter and surer opportunity of risposting.
Beat, in the manege. A horse is said to beat the
dust, when at each stroke or motion he does not take
in ground or way enough with his fore-legs. He is
more particularly said to beat the dust at terra a terra?
when he does not take in ground enough with his
shoulders, making his strokes or motions too short, as
if he made them all in one place. He beats the dust at
curvets, when he does them too precipitately and too
low. He beats upon a walk, when he walks too short,
and
Beans
n
Beat,
B E A
I 488 ]
B E A
iJeflt
Beati 11
arid thus rids but little ground, whether it be in straight
lines, rounds, or passings.
Beat of Drum, in the military art, is to give notice
by beat of drum of a sudden danger ; or, that scattered
soldiers may repair to their arms and quarters, is to
beat an alarm, or to arms. Also to signify, by different
manners of sounding a drum, that the soldiers are to
fall on the enemy 5 to retreat before, in, or after, an at¬
tack ; to move or march from one place to another ; to
permit the soldiers to come out of their quarters at
break of day ; to order to repair to their colours, &c.
is to beat a charge, a retreat, a march, &c.
Beat, in clock-making. See Beats.
Beat, St, a town of France, in the department of
Upper Garonne, at the confluence of the Garonne and the
Pique. It is seated between two mountains which are
close to the town on each side. The houses are chiefly
built with marblei W. Long. 1. 6. N. Lat. 42. 50.
BEATER is applied, in matters of commerce, to
divers sorts of workmen, whose business is to hammer
or flatten certain matters, particularly metals.
Gold-Reaters, are artisans, who, by beating gold
and silver with a hammer on a marble in moulds of vel¬
lum and bullocks guts, reduce them to thin leaves fit
for gilding or silvering of copper, iron, steel, wood,
&c. Gold-beaters differ from flatters of gold or silver j
as the former bring their metal into leaves by the ham¬
mer, whereas the latter only flatten it by pressing it
through a mill preparatory to beating.
There are also Tin-Beaters employed in the look¬
ing-glass trade, whose business is to beat tin on large
blocks of marble till it be reduced to thin leaves fit to
be applied with quicksilver behind looking-glasses. See
Foliating, GoLD-Beating.
BEATIFICATION, an act by which the pope
declares a person beatified or blessed after his death.
It is the first step towards canonization, or raising any
one to the honour and dignity of a saint. No person
can be beatified till 50 years after his or her death.
All certificates or attestations of virtues and miracles,
the necessary qualifications for saintship, are examined
by the congregation of rites. This examination often
continues for several years ; after which his holiness de¬
crees the beatification. The corps and relics of the
future saint are from henceforth exposed to the vene¬
ration of all good Christians ; his images are crowned
with rays, and a particular office is set apart for him ;
but his body and relies are not carried in procession :
indulgences likewise, and remission of sins, are granted
on the day of his beatification j which though not so
pompous as that of canonization, is however very splen¬
did.
BEATING, or Pulsation, in Medicine, the reci¬
procal agitation or palpitation of the heart or pulse.
Beating Flax or Hemp, is an operation in the dress¬
ing of these matters, contrived to render them more
soft and pliant. When hemp has been swingled a se¬
cond time, and the hurds laid by, they take the strikes,
and dividing them into dozens and half dozens, make
them up into large thick rolls, which being broached
on long strikes, are set in the chimney corner to dry
after which they lay them in a round trough made for
the purpose, and there with beetles beat them well till
they handle both without and within as pliant as pos¬
sible, without any hardness or roughness to be felt j
that done, they take them from the trough, open and
divide the strikes as before; and if any be found not <
sufficiently beaten, they roll them up and beat them
over as before.
Beating hemp is a punishment inflicted on loose or
disorderly persons. •
Beating, in book-binding, denotes the knocking a
book in quires on a marble block, with a heavy broad¬
faced hammer, after folding, and before binding or
stitching it. On the beating it properly, the elegance
and excellence of the binding, and the easy opening of
the book, principally depend.
Beating, in the paper works, signifies the beating
of paper on a stone with a heavy hammer, with a large
smooth head and short handle, in order to render it
more smooth and uniform, and fit for writing.
Beating the Wind, was a practice in use in the an¬
cient method of trial by combat. If either of the com¬
batants did not appear in the field at the time appoint¬
ed, the other was to beat the wind, or make so many
flourishes with his weapon 5 by which he was entitled
to all the advantages of a conqueror.
Beating the Hands or Feet, by way of praise or ap¬
probation. See Applause.
Beating Time, in Music, a method of measuring
and marking the time for performers in concert, by a
motion of the hand and foot up or down successively
and in equal times. Knowing the true time of a crot¬
chet, and supposing the measure actually, subdivided
into four crotchets, and the half measure into two,
the hand or foot being up, if we put it down with the
very beginning of the first note or crotchet, and then
raise it with the third, and then down with the begin¬
ning ot the next measure ; this is called beating the
time ; and, by practice, a habit is acquired of making
this motion very equal. Each down and up is some¬
times called a time or measure. The general rule is
to contrive the division of the measure so, that every
down and up of the beating shall end with a particular
note, on which very much depends the distinctness,
and, as it were, the sense of the melody. Hence the'
beginning of every time or beating in the measure is
reckoned the accented part thereof.
Beating time is denoted, in the Italian music, by
the term dbattuta, which is usually put after what they
call recitativo, where little or no time is observed, to
denote, that here they are to begin again to mark or
beat the time exactly.
The Romans aimed at somewhat of harmony in the
strokes of their oars ; and had an officer called portis-
ciilas in each galley, whose business was to beat time to
the rowers, sometimes by a pole or mallet, and some¬
times by his voice alone.
The ancients marked the rhime in their musical com¬
positions : but to make it more observable in the prac¬
tice, they beat the measure or time, and this in differ^
ent manners. The most usual consisted in a motion
ot the foot, which was raised from, and struck alter¬
nately against, the ground, according to the modern
method. Doing this was commonly the province of
the master of the music, who was thence called puroy^t-
§af and xogvcpxivs, because placed in the middle of the
choir of muscians, and in an elevated situation, to be
seen and heard more easily by the whole company.
These beaters of measure were also called by the
Greeks
Beaiuig.
B E A
Beating
II
Beaton.
Greeks tto^okIv^ and x-odo-J/ipof, because of the noise of
their feet; and <rvvh»x£iotf because of the uniformity or
monotony of the rhythm. The Latins denominated
them pedant, podarii, and pedicularii. To make the
beats or strokes more audible, their feet were general¬
ly shod with a sort of sandals either of wood or iron,
called by the Greeks x^ovttxXx, KgevTrflx,
and by the Latins pedicula, scabella, or scabilla, be¬
cause like to little stools or footstools. Sometimes they
beat upon sonorous footstools, with the foot shod with
a wooden or iron sole. They beat the measure not
only with the foot, but also with the right hand, all
the fingers whereof they joined together, to strike into
the hollow of the left. He who thus marked the
rhythm, was called rtiamiductor. The ancients also
beat time or measure with shells, as oyster shells and
bones of animals, which they struck against one ano¬
ther, much as the moderns now use castanets, and the
like instruments. This the Greeks called
as is noted by Hesychius. The scholiast on Aristo¬
phanes speaks much to the same purpose. Other noisy
instruments, as drums, cymbals, citterns, &c. were
also used on the same occasion. They beat the mea¬
sure generally in two equal or unequal times 5 at least
this holds of the usual rhythm of a piece of music,
marked either by the noise of sandals, or the slapping
of the hands. But the other rhythmic instruments last-
mentioned, and which Were used principally to excite
and animate the dancers, marked the cadence after
another manner; that is, the number of their percus¬
sions equalled, or even sometimes surpassed, that of
the different sounds which composed the air or song
played.
Beating, with hunters, a term used of a stag,
which runs first one way and then another. He is
then said to beat up and down.—The noise made by co¬
nies in rutting time is also called beating or tapping.
Beating, in Navigation, the operation of making a
progress at sea against the direction of the wind, in a
zig-zag line or traverse, like that in which we ascend a
steep hill. See Tacking.
BEAIITUDL imports the supreme good, or the
highest degree of happiness human nature is suceptible
of; or the most perfect state of a rational being, where¬
in the soul has attained to the utifiost excellency and
dignity it is framed for. In which sense, it amounts
to the same with what we otherwise call blessedness and
sovereign felicity; by the Greeks, ivhxip.Mix ; and by
the Latins, summum bonum, beatitudo, and beatitas.
, Beatitude, among divines, denotes the beatific
vision, or the fruition of God in a future life to all
eternity.
Beatitude is also used in speaking of thetheses con¬
tained in Christ’s sermon on the mount, whereby he pro¬
nounces blessed the poor in spirit, those that mourn, the
meek, &c.
BEATON", David, archbishop of St Andrew’s, and
a cardinal of Rome, in the early part of the 16th cen¬
tury, was born in 1494" Lope Paul III. raised him
to the degree of a cardinal in December 1538; and
being employed by James V. in negociating his mar¬
riage with the court of France, he was there conse¬
crated bishop of Mirepoix. Soon after his instalment
as archbishop of St Andrew’s, he promoted a furious
persecution of the reformers in Scotland : when the
Vol. ILL Part IL t
[ 489 ]
B E A
king’s death put a stop, for a time, to his arbitrary Beat«n
proceedings, he being then excluded from affairs of (j
government, and confined. He raised, however, so Beaver,
strong a party, that, upon the coronation of the young
Queen Mary, he was admitted of the council, made
chancellor, and procured commission as legate it later#
from the court of Rome. Pie now began to renew his
persecution of heretics ; and among the rest, of the fa¬
mous Protestant preacher Mr George Wishart, whose
sufferings at the stake the cardinal viewed from his
window with apparent exultation. It is pretended,
that Wishart at his death foretold the murder of Bea¬
ton ; which indeed happened shortly after, he beimr
assassinated in his chamber, May 29. 1547. He was a
haughty bigotted churchman, and thought severity thfe
proper method of suppressing heresy ; he had great ta¬
lents,^ and great vices. See Scotland.
BEATORUMINSULA, \x\ Ancient Geography, seven
days journey to the west of Thebm, a district’of the
Nomos Oasites ; called an island, because surround¬
ed with sand, like an island in the sea, (Ulpian) ; yet
abounding in all the necessaries of life, though encom¬
passed with vast sandy deserts, (Strabo) ; which sortie
suppose to be a third Oasis, in the Regio Ammoniaca;
and the site of the temple of Ammon answers to the
above description, as appears from the writers on A-
lexander’s expedition thither. It was a place of rele¬
gation or banishment for criminals. (Ulpian).
B E ATTIE, James, an eminent Scottish poet and
moralist. See Supplement.
BEATS, in a watch or clock, are the strokes made
by the fangs or pallets of the spindle of the balance, or
of the pads in a royal pendulum. See Clock and
Watch.
BEAUCAIRE, a town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Gard, on the Rhone, opposite Tarascon, With
which it has a communication by a bridge of boats.
One of the most celebrated fairs in Europe is annually
held here. E. Long. 5. 49. N. Lat. 43. 39.
BEAUCE, a late province of France, lying be¬
tween the Isle of France, Blasois, and Orleannois. It
is so very fertile in wheat, that it is called the Granan/
of Paris. Chartres is the principal town. It now forms
the department of Eure and Loire.
BEAVER, in Zoology. See Castor, Mammalia
Index.
Beaver Skins, in commerce. Of these, merchants
distinguish three sorts; the new, the dry, and the
fat.
The new beaver, which is also called the white bea¬
ver, or Muscovy beaver, because it is commonly kept to
be sent into Muscovy, is that which the savages catch in
their winter hunting. It is the best, and the most pro¬
per for making tine furs, because it has lost none of its
hair by shedding.
The dry beaver, which is sometimes called lean bea¬
ver, comes from the summer hunting, which is the time
when these animals lose part of their hair. Though this
sort of beaver be much inferior to the former, yet it may
also be employed in furs ; but it is chiefly used in the
manufacture of hats. The French call it summer cas¬
tor, or beaver.
The fat beaver is that which has contracted a cer¬
tain gross and oily humour, from the sweat which ex¬
hales from the bodies of the savages, who wear it for
3 Q some
B E A [ 490 ] B E A
Beaver some time. Tkough this sort be better’ than the dry
ii beaver, yet it it used only in the making of hats.
lie-unimm. Besides hats and furs, in which the beaver’s hair is
v commonly used, they attempted in France, in the year
1699, to make other manufactures of it: and accord¬
ingly they made cloths, flannels, stockings, &c. partly
of beavers hair, and partly of Segovia wool. This
manufactory, which was set up at Paris, in the suburb
of St Anthony, succeeded at first pretty well j and ac¬
cording to the genius of the French, the novelty of the
thing brought into some repute the stufl's, stockings,
gloves, and cloth, made of beavers hair. But they went
out of fashion on a sudden, because it was found, by ex¬
perience, that they were of a very bad wear, and be¬
sides that the colours faded very much ; when they had
been wet, they became dry and hard, like felt, which
occasioned the miscarriage of the manufactory for that
time.
When the hair has been cut off from the beavers
skins, to be used in the manufacturing of hats, those
skins are still employed by several workmen j namely,
by the trunk-makers, to cover trunks and boxes j by
the shoemakers, to put into slippers j and by turners,
to make sieves for sifting grain and seeds.
BEAUFORT, a town of France, in the department
of Maine and Loire, with a castle, near the river Au-
thion. It contains two parishes, and formerly had a
convent of Recolets, and contained about 6000 inhabi¬
tants in 1815. W. Long. o. 3. N. Lat. 47. 26.
Beaufort gives title of duke in England to the noble
family of Somerset, who are lineally descended from
John of Gaunt duke of Lancaster, whose duchess re¬
sided in this town.
Beaufort, a strong town of Savoy in Italy, on the
river Oron. E. Long. 6. 48. N. Lat. 45. 40.
BEAUGENCY, a town of France in the depart¬
ment of Loire, seated on the river Loire. It is famous
for its wines. E. Long. I. 46. N. Lat. 47. 48.
BEAUJEU, a town of France, in the department
of Rhone and Loire, with an old castle. It is seated
on the river Ardieres, at the foot of a mountain, in
E. Long. 4. 40. N. Lat. 46. 9.
BEAUJOLOIS, a district of France, now included
in the department of Rhone and Loire. It is 25 miles
in length, and 20 in breadth j and Ville Franche is the
capital town.
BEAULIEU, Sebastian de Pontault de, a
celebrated French engineer, and field-marshal under
Louis XIV. He published plans of all the military
expeditions of his master, with military lectures annex¬
ed. He died in 1674.
BEAUMARCHAIS, P. A. C. a French dramatic
writer. See Supplement.
BEAUMARIS, a market town of Anglesey in
North Wales, which sends one member to parliament.
W. Long. 4. 15. N. Lat. 53. 25.
It is pleasantly seated on a low land at the water’s
edge is neat aad well built, and contained 1510 in¬
habitants in 1811. Edward I. created the place ; for
after founding the castles of Caernarvon and Conway,
he discovered that it was necessary to put another curb
on the Welch. He therefore built a fortress here in
1295 ; and fixed on a marshy spot, near the chapel of
St Meugan, such as gave him opportunity ol forming
a great loss round the castle, and of filling it with wa-
2
ter from the sea. He also cut a canal, in order to Beanmnrii
permit vessels to discharge their lading beneath the-y—
walls : and as a proof of the existence of such a con¬
venience, there were within this century iron rings af¬
fixed to them, for the purpose of mooring the ships or
boats. The marsh was in early times of far greater
extent than at present, and covered with fine bulrushes.
The first governor was Sir William Pickmore, a Gas¬
con knight appointed by Edward I. There were a
constable of the castle, and a captain of the town. The
first had an annual fee of forty pounds, the last of
twelve pounds three shillings and fourpence j and the
porter of the gate of Beaumaris had nine pounds two
shillings and sixpence. Twenty-four soldiers were al¬
lowed for the guard of the castle and town, at four-
pence a-day to each. The constable of the castle waa
always captain of the town, except in orte instance :
in the 36th of Henry IV. Sir John Boteler held the
first office, and Thomas Norreys the other. The cas¬
tle was extremely burthensome to the country j quar¬
rels were frequent between the garrison and the coun¬
try people. In the time of Henry VI. a bloody fray
happened, in which David ap Evan ap Howel of
Llwydiarth, and many others, were slain. From the
time of Sir Rowland Villeville, a/ias Britayne, reputed
base son of Henry VII. and constable of the castle,
the garrison was withdrawn till the year 1642, when
Thomas Cheadle, deputy to the earl of Dorset, then
constable, put into it men and ammunition. In 1643,
Thomas Bulkeley, Esq. soon after created Lord Bul-
keley, succeeded : his son Colonel Richard Bulkeley,
and several gentlemen of the county, held it for the
king till June 1646, when it surrendered on ho¬
nourable terms to General Mytton, who made Cap¬
tain Evans his deputy-governor. In 1653, ^ie an“
nual expence of the garrison was seventeen hundred
and three pounds. Edward I. when he built the
town, surrounded it with walls, made it a corporation,
and endowed it with great privileges, and lands to a
considerable value. He removed the ancient free¬
holders by exchange of property into other counties.
Henllys, near the town, was the seat ol Gwerydd ap
Rhys Goch, one of fifteen tribes, and of his posterity
till this period, when Edward removed them to Boddle
Wyddan in Flintshire, and bestowed their ancient pa¬
trimony on the corporation. It sends one member to
parliament. Its first representative was Maurice Gril-
fydd, who sat in the seventh year of Edward VI.
There is very good anchorage lor ships in the bay
which lies before the town, and has seven fathom wa¬
ter even at the lowest ebb. Vessels often find security
here in bard gales. The town has no trade ol any
kind, yet has its customhouse for the casual reception
of goods. The ferry lies near the town, and is pass¬
able at low water. It w'as granted by charter to the
corporation in the 4th ol Queen Elizabeth. T here is
an order from Edward II. to Robert Power, chamber-
lain of North Wales, to inspect into the state of the
boat, which was then out of repair •, and in case it was
feasible, to cause it to be made fit for use, at the ex¬
pence of the bailiwick : but if the boat proved past
repair, a new one was to be built, and the expence al¬
lowed by the king. It appeared that the people of
Beaumaris paid annually for the privilege ot a lerry
thirty shillings into the exchequer j but by this order
B E A [ 49i ] B E A
Beaumaris, seems tliat the king was to find the boat. After pas-
3eaumont. sing the ch:fnnel, the distance over the sands to Aber in
Caernarvonshire, the point the passenger generally makes
for, is four miles. The sands are called Traeth Telavan,
and Wylofaen, or the place of weeping, from the shrieks
and lamentations of the inhabitants when it was over¬
whelmed by the sea, in the days of Helig ap Clunog.
The church is dependant on Llandegvan, which is in
the gift of Lord Bulkeley. The former is called the
chapel of the blessed virgin ; yet in ancient writings
one aisle is called St Mary's chapel, and another that
of St Nicholas.
BEAUMONT, Sir John, the elder brother of Mr
Francis Beaumont the famous dramatic poet, was born
in the year 1582, and in 1626 had the dignity of a ba¬
ronet conferred upon him by King Chai'les I. In his
youth he applied himself to the Muses with good suc¬
cess $ and wrote, The Crown of Thorns, a poem, in
eight books : a miscellany, entitled Bosworth Field:
Translations from the Latin poets : and several poems
on religions and political subjects j as, On the Festi¬
vals ; On the Blessed Trinity ; A Dialogue between the
World, a Pilgrim, and Virtue 5 Of the miserable State
of Man; Of sickness, &c. He died in 1628. His
poetic genius was celebrated by Ben Johnson, Michael
Drayton, and others.
Beaumont and Fletcher, two celebrated English
dramatic writers, who flourished in the reign of James I.
and so closely corinected both as authors and as friends,
that it has been judged not improper to give them under
one article.
Mr Francis Beaumont was descended from an an¬
cient family of his name at Grace-dieu in Leicester¬
shire, where he was born about the year 1585 or 1586,
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. His grandfather,
John Beaumont, was master of the rolls, and his father
Francis Beaumont one of the judges of the common-
pleas. He was educated at Cambridge, and after¬
wards admitted of the Inner Temple. It is not, how¬
ever, apparent that he made any great proficiency in
the law, that being a study probably too dry and un¬
entertaining to be attended to by a man of his fertile
and sprightly genius. And indeed we should scarcely
be surprised to find that he had given no application to
any study but poetry, nor attended on any court but
that of the Muses : but, on the contrary, our admiration
might fix itself on the opposite extreme, and fill ns with
astonishment at the extreme assiduity of his genius and
rapidity of his pen, when we look back on the volumi¬
nousness of his works, and then inquire into the time
allowed him for them ; works that might well have
taken up a long life to have executed. For although,
out of 53 plays which are collected together as the la¬
bours of these united authors, Mr Beaumont was con¬
cerned in much the greater part of them, yet he did
not live to complete his 30th year, the king of terrors
summoning him away in the beginning of March 1615,
on the 9th day of which he \yas interred in the en¬
trance of St Benedict’s chapel in Westminster-Abbey.
There is no inscription on his tomb : But there are two
epitaphs to his memory ; one by his elder brother Sir
John Beaumont:
On death, thy murderer, this revenge I take;
I slight his terrors, and just question make,
Which of us two the best precedence have, Beaumont,
Mine to this wretched world, thine to the grave ? —y——j
1 hou should’st have follow’d me; but death, to blame,
Miscounted years, and measur’d age by fame.
So dearly hast thou bought thy precious lines;
Their praise grew swiftly, so thy life declines.
Thy muse, the hearer’s queen, the reader’s love,
All ears, all hearts (but death’s), could please and
move. Bosworth Field, p. 164.
The other is by Bishop Corbet. (Foems, p. 68.)
He that hath such acuteness and such wit,
As would ask ten good heads to husband it :
He that can write so well, that no man dare
Resume it for the best; let him beware :
Beaumont is dead ; by whose sole death appears,
Wit’s a disease consumes men in few years.
He left a daughter, Frances Beaumont, who died in
Leicestershire since the year 1700. She had in her
possession several poems of her father’s writing ; but
they were lost at sea in her voyage from Ireland, where
she had lived for some time in the duke of Ormond’s
family.
Mr John Fletcher was not more meanly descended
than his poetical colleague ; his father, the Rev. Dr
Jletcher, having been first made bishop of Bristol, by
Queen Elizabeth, and afterv/ards by the same monarch,
in the year 1593, translated to the rich see of London.
Our poet was born in 1576; and was, as well as his
friend, educated at Cambridge, where he made a great
proficiency in his studies, and was accounted a very good
scholar. His natural vivacity of wit, for which he was
remarkable, soon rendered him a devotee to the muses;
and his close attention to their service, and fortunate
connection with a genius equal to his own, soon raised
him to one of the highest places in the temple of poeti¬
cal fame. As he was born near ten years before Mr
Beaumont, so did he also survive him by an equal num¬
ber of years ; the general calamity of a plague, which
happened in the year 1625, involved him in its great
destruction, he being at that time 49 years of age.
During the joint lives of these two great poets, it
appears that they wrote nothing separately, excepting
one little piece by each, which seemed of too trivial a
nature for either to require assistance in, viz. The Faith- .
ful Shepherd, a pastoral, by Fletcher; and the Masque
of Gray’s-Inn Gentlemen, by Beaumont. Yet what
share each had in the writing or designing of the pieces
thus composed by them jointly, there is no possibility
of determining. It is however generally allowed, that
Fletcher’s peculiar talent wsts wit, and Beaumont’s,
though much the younger man, judgment. Nay, so
extraordinary was the latter property in Mr Beaumont,
that it is recorded of the great Ben Johnson, who seems
moreover to have had a sufficient degree of self-opinion
of his own abilities, that he constantly, so long as this
gentleman lived, submitted his own writings to his
censure, and, as it is thought, availed himself of his
judgment at least in the correcting, if not even in the
contriving all his plots. It is probable, therefore, that
the forming the plots and contriving the conduct of
the fable, the writing of the more serious and pathetic
parts, and lopping the redundant branches of Fletcher’s
3 Q 3 > wit,
B E A [49
Beaumont, wit, whose luxuriance, we are told, frequently stood in
v~ l-' need ol castigation, might be in general Beaumont’s
portion in the work : w-hile Fletcher, whose conversa¬
tion with the beau monde (which indeed both of them
from their births and stations in life had been ever ac¬
customed to), added to the volatile and lively turn he
possessed, rendered him perfectly master of dialogue and
polite language, might execute the designs formed by
the other, and raise the superstructure of those lively
and spirited scenes which Beaumont had only laid the
foundation of; and in this he was so successful, that
though his wit and raillery were extremely keen and
poignant, yet they were at the same time so perfectly
genteel, that they used rather to please than disgust the
very persons on whom they seemed to reflect. Yet that
1‘ letcher was not entirely excluded from a share in the
conduct of the drama, may be gathered from a story re¬
lated by Winstanley, viz. that our two bards having
concerted the rough draught of a tragedy over a bottle
of wine at a tavern, Fletcher said, he would undertake
to kill the king ; which words being overheard by the
waiter, who had not happened to have been witness to
the context of their conversation, he lodged an informa¬
tion of treason against them. But on their explanation
of it only to mean the destruction of a theatrical mo¬
narch, their loyalty moreover being unquestioned, the
affair ended in a jest.
On the whole, the works of these authors have un¬
doubtedly very great merit, and some of their pieces de¬
servedly stand on the list of the present ornaments of the
theatre. The plots are ingenious, interesting, and well
managed ; the characters strongly marked j and the dia¬
logue sprightly and natural : yet there is in the latter a
coarseness which is not suitable to the politeness of the
present age j and a fondness of repartee, which frequent¬
ly runs into obscenity j and which we may suppose was
the vice of that time, since even the delicate Shakespeare
himself is not entirely free from it. But as these au¬
thors have more of that kind of wit than the last-men¬
tioned writer, it is not to be wondered if their works
were in the licentious reign of Charles II. preferred to
his. Now, however, to the honour of the present taste
be it spoken, the tables are entirely turned j and while
Shakespeare’s immortal works are our constant and daily
fare, those of Beaumont and Fletcher, though delicate
in their kind, are only occasionally served up ; and
even then great pains are taken to clear them of that
fumet, which the haul gout of their contemporaries con¬
sidered as their supremest relish, but which the more un¬
depraved taste of ours has been justly taught to look on
as, what it really is, no more than a corrupt and un¬
wholesome taint.
Some of their plays were printed in quarto during
the lives of the authors j and in the year 1645 there
was published in folio a collection of such plays as had
not been printed before, amounting to between thirty
and forty. This collection was published by Mr Shir¬
ley, after the shutting up of the theatres ; and dedi¬
cated to the earl of Pembroke by ten of the most fa¬
mous actors. In 1679 tAere was an edition of all
their plays published in folio ; another edition in 1711
by Mr Tonson, in seven volumes 8vo, and the last in
f75i-
Beaumont, a town of the Netherlands, in Hain-
ault, on the confines of the territory of Liege, It was
3,
]
B E A
ceded to the French in 1684; and taken in 1691 by u<atlmont
the English, who blew up the castle. It is situated be- (| n
tween the rivers Maese and Sambre, in E. Long. 4. j. Beauty.
N. Lat. 50. 12. v■",l it ■—
Beaumont le Roger, a town of Upper Normandy in
France. E. Long. o. 56. N. Lat. 49. 2.
Beaumont le Vicompte, a town of Maine in France.
E. Long. o. 10. N. Lat. 48. 12.
Beaumont sur Oise, a town in the Isle of France,
seated on the declivity of a hill, with a bridge over the
river Oise. E. Long. 2. 29. N. Lat. 49. 9.
BEAUNE, a handsome town of France, in the de*
partment of Cote d’Or, remarkable for its excellent
wine, and for an hospital founded here in 1443. Its
collegiate church is also one of the finest in France 5
the great altar is adorned with a table enriched with
jewels ; and its organs are placed on a piece of archi¬
tecture which is the admiration of the curious. E. Long.
4. 50. N. Lat. 47. 2.
BEAUSOBRE, Isaac DE, a learned Protestant
writer, of French original, was born at Niort in 1659.
He was forced into Holland to avoid the execution of
a sentence upon him, which condemned him to make
the amende honourable ; and this for having broken the
royal signet, which was put upon the door of a church
of the Reformed, to prevent the public profession of
their religion. He went to Berlin in 1694 ; was made
chaplain to the king of Prussia, and counsellor of the
royal consistory. He died in 1738, aged 79, after ha¬
ving published several works: as, 1. Defense de la
Doctrine des Reformes. 2. A Translation of the New
Testament and Notes, jointly with M. Lenfant j much
esteemed by the Reformed. 3. Dissertation sur les Ada¬
mites de Boheme; a curious work. 4. Histoire Critique
de Manichee et du Manicheisme, 2 tom. in 4to. This
has been deemed by philosophers an interesting question,
and nobody has developed it better than this author.
5. Several dissertations in the Bibliotheque Britannique.
—Mr Beausobre had strong sense with profound erudi¬
tion, and was one of the best writers among the Re¬
formed ; he preached as he wrote, and he did both with
warmth and spirit.
BEAUTY, in its native signification, is appropri¬
ated to objects of sight. Objects of the other senses
may be agreeable, such as the sounds of musical instru¬
ments, the smoothness and softness of some surfaces ;
but the agreeableness called beauty belongs to objects
of sight.
Objects of sight are more complex than those of any
other sense : in the simplest we perceive colour, figure,
length, breadth, thickness. A tree is composed of a
trunk, branches, and leaves ; it has colour, figure, size,
and sometimes motion : by means of each of these par¬
ticulars, separately considered, it appears beautiful j
but a complex perception of the whole greatly aug¬
ments the beauty of the object. The human body is
a composition of numberless beauties arising from tb«
parts and qualities of the object, various colours, vari¬
ous motions, figures, size, &c. all united in one com¬
plex object, and striking the eye with combined force.
Hence it is, that beauty, a quality so remarkable in
visible objects, lends its name to every thing that is
eminently agreeable. Thus, by a figure of speech, we
say, a beautiful sound, a beautiful thought, a beautiful
discovery, fyc.
Considering
B E A
Beauty. Considering attentively the beauty of visible objects,
—two kinds are discovered. The first may be termed
intrinsic beauty, because it is discovered in a single ob¬
ject, without relation to any other : the other may be
termed relative, being founded on the relation of ob¬
jects. Intrinsic beauty is a perception of sense merely;
for to perceive the beauty of a spreading oak, or of a
flowing river, no more is required but singly an act of
vision. Relative beauty is accompanied with an act of
understanding and reflection : for we perceive not the
relative beauty of a fine instrument or engine until we
learn its use and destination. In a word, intrinsic
beauty is ultimate ; and relative beauty is that of means
relating to some good end or purpose. These different
beauties agree in one capital circumstance, that both
are equally perceived as belonging to the object; which
will be readily admitted with respect to intrinsic beauty,
but is not so obvious with respect to the other. The
Utility of the plough, for example, may make it an ob¬
ject of admiration or of desire ; but why should utility
make it beautiful P A natural propensity of the human
mind will explain this difficulty: By an easy transition
of ideas, the beauty of the effect is transferred to the
cause, and is perceived as one of the qualities of the
cause. Thus a subject void of intrinsic beauty appears
beautiful by its utility ; a dwelling-house void of all
regularity is however beautiful in the view of con¬
venience ; and the want of symmetry in a tree will not
prevent its appearing beautiful, if it be known to pro¬
duce good fruit.
When these two beauties concur in any object, it ap¬
pears delightful. Every member of the human body
possesses both in a high degree.
The beauty of utility, being accurately proportioned
to the degree of utility, requires no illustration : But
intrinsic beauty, being more complex, cannot be handled
distinctly without being analyzed. If a tree he beau¬
tiful by means of its colour, figure, motion, size, &c.
it is in reality possessed of so many different beauties.
The beauty of colour is too familiar to need explana¬
tion. The beauty of figure is more: for example,
viewing any body as a whole, the beauty of its figure
arises from regularity and simplicity; viewing the parts
with relation to each other, uniformity, proportion,
and order, contribute to its beauty. The beauties of
grandeur and motion are considered separately. See
Grandeur, and Motion.
We shall here make a few observations on simplicity,
which may be of use in examining the beauty of single
objects. A multitude of objects crowding into the mind
at once, disturb the attention, and pass without making
any lasting impression : In the same manner, even a
single object, consisting of a multiplicity of parts, equals
not, in strength of impression, a more simple object com¬
prehended in one view. This justifies simplicity in works
of art, as opposed to complicated circumstances and
crowded ornaments.
It would be endless to enumerate the effects that are
produced by the various combinations of the principles
of beauty. A few examples will be sufficient to give
the reader some idea of this subject. A circle and a
square are each perfectly regular: a square, however,
is less beautiful than a circle ; and the reason is, that
the attention is divided among the sides and angles of
a, square ; whereas the circumference of a circle, being
t 493 ]
B E A
a single object, makes one entire impression : And thus
simplicity contributes to beauty. I1 or the same reason
a square is more beautiful then a hexagon or octagon.
A square is likewise more beautiful than a paralleled
gram, because it is more regular and uniform. But
this holds with respect to intrinsic beauty only : for in
many instances, as in the doors and windows of a
dwelling-house, utility turns the scales on the side of
the parallelogram.
Again, a parallelogram depends,, for its beauty, on-
the proportion ot its sides : A great inequality of its
sides annihilates its beauty : Approximation toward
equality hath the same effect; for proportion there de¬
generates into perfect uniformity, and the figure appears
an unsuccessful attempt toward a square. And hence
proportion contributes to beauty.
An equilateral triangle yields not to a square in regu¬
larity nor in uniformity of parts, and it is more simple.
But an equilateral triangle is less beautiful than asquare; ■
which must be owiug to inferiority of order in the posi¬
tion of its parts ; the order arising from the equal inclid
nation of the sides of such an angle is more obscure than
the parallelism of the sides of asquare. And hence or¬
der contributes to beauty not less than simplicity, regu¬
larity, or proportion.
Uniformity is singular in one circumstance, that it
is apt to disgust by excess. A number of things des¬
tined for the same use, as windows, chairs, &c. can¬
not be too uniform. But a scrupulous uniformity of
parts in a large garden or field is far from being agree¬
able.
In all the works of nature simplicity makes a capital
figure. It also makes a figure in works of art: Pro¬
fuse ornament in painting, gardening, or architecture,
as well as in dress or in language, shows a mean or cor¬
rupted taste. Simplicity in behaviour and manners has
an enchanting effect, and never fails to gain our affec¬
tion. Very different are the artificial manners of mo¬
dern times. A gradual progress from simplicity to
complex forms and profuse ornament, seems to be the
fate of all the fine arts ; resembling behaviour, which
from original candour and simplicity has degenerated
into duplicity of heart and artificial refinements. At
present, literary productions are crowded with words,
epithets, figures : In music, sentiment is neglected for
the luxury of harmony, and for difficult movement.
With regard to the final cause of beauty, , one thing
is evident, that our relish of regularity, uniformity,
proportion, order, and simplicity, contributes greatly
to enhance the beauty of the objects that surround us,
and of course tends to our happiness. We may be
confirmed in this thought, upon reflecting, that our
taste for these particulars is not accidental, but uniform
and universal, making a branch of our nature. At the
same time, regularity, uniformity, order, and simplicity,
contribute each ol them to readiness of apprehension,
and enable us to form more distinct ideas of objects
than can be done where these particulars are wanting.
In some instances, as in animals, proportion is evidently
connected with utility, and is the more agreeable on
that account.
Beauty, in many instances, promotes industry ; and
as it is frequently connected with utility, it proves an
additional incitement to enrich our fields and improve
our manufactures. These, however, are but slight
effects, ^
Beauty*
B E A [ 49+ ] B E A
'Beauty, effects, compared with the connections that are formed
-—v-'™—' among individuals in society by means of beauty.
The qualifications of the head and heart are undoubt¬
edly the most solid and most permanent foundations of
such connections : But as external beauty lies more
in view, and is more obvious to the bulk of mankind,
than the qualities now mentioned, the sense of beauty
lias a more extensive influence in forming these con¬
nections. At any rate, it concurs in an eminent de¬
gree with mental qualifications, in producing social in¬
tercourse, mutual good will, and consequently mutual
aid and support, which are the life of society j it must
not however be overlooked, that the sense of beauty
does not tend to advance the interests of society, but
when in a due mean with respect to strength. Love,
in particular, arising from a sense of beauty, loses,
when excessive, its social character: the appetite for
gratification, prevailing over affection for the beloved
object, is ungovernable, and tends violently to its end,
regardless of the misery that must follow. Love, in this
state, is no longer a sweet agreeable passion : it becomes
painful, like hunger or thirst; and produceth no happi¬
ness but in the instant of fruition. This suggests an im¬
portant lesson, that moderation in our desires and appe¬
tites, which fits us for doing our duty, contributes at the
same time the most to happiness $ even social passions,
when moderate, are more pleasant than when they swell
beyond proper bounds.
Human or Personal Beauty, only slightly touched
upon in the preceding article, merits more particular
discussion 5 and may be considered under these four
heads : Colour, Form, Expression, and Grace •, the two
former being, as it were, the Body, the two latter the
Soul, of beauty.
i. Colour. Although this be the lowest of all the
constituent parts of beauty, yet it is vulgarly the most
striking and the most observed. For which there is
a Very obvious reason to be given j that “ every body
can see, and very few can judge 5” the beauties of co¬
lour requiring much less of judgment than either of the
other three.
As to the colour of the body in general, the most beau¬
tiful perhaps that ever was imagined, was that which A-
pelles expressed in his famous Venus j and which, though
the picture itself be lost, Cicero has in some degree pre¬
served to us, in his excellent description of it. It was (as
we learn from him, a fine red, beautifully intermixed and
incorporated with white j and diffused, in its due propor¬
tions, through each part of the body. Such are the de¬
scriptions of a most beautiful skin, in several of the Ro¬
man poets j and such often is the colouring of Titian,
and particularly in his sleeping Venus, or whatever other
beauty that charming piece was meant to represent.
The reason why these colours please so much, is not
only their natural liveliness, nor the much greater
charms they obtain from their being properly blended
together, but is also owing in some degree to the idea
they carry with them of good health 5 without which
all beauty grows languid and less engaging : and with
which it always recovers an additional life and lustre.
As to the colour of the face in particular, a great Bea,Jiv
deal of beauty is owing (beside the causes already men- >■
tinned) to variety ; that being designed by nature for
the greatest concourse of different colours, of any part
in the human body. Colours please by opposition j
and it is in the face that they are the most diversified,
and the most opposed.
It is an observation apparently whimsical, but per¬
haps not unjust, that the same thing which makes a fine
evening, makes a fine face j that is, as to the particu¬
lar part of beauty now under consideration.
The beauty of an evening sky, about tbe setting of
the sun, is owing to the\ variety of colours that are
scattered along the face of the heavens. It is the fine
red clouds, intermixed with white, and sometimes darker
ones, with the azure bottom appearing here and there
between them, which makes all that beautiful composi¬
tion that delights the eye so much, and gives such a serene
pleasure to the heart. In the same manner, if you con¬
sider some beautiful faces, you may observe that it is
much the same variety of colours which gives them that
pleasing look $ which is so apt to attract the eye, and
but too often to engage the heart. For all this sort of
beauty is resolvable into a proper variation of flesh co¬
lour and red, with the clear blueness of the veins plea¬
singly intermixed about the temples and the going off
of the cheeks, and set off by the shades of full eye¬
brows ; and of the hair, when it falls in a proper man¬
ner round the face.
It is for much the same reason that the best landscape
painters have been generally observed to choose the au¬
tumnal part of the year for their pieces, rather than the
spring. They prefer the variety of shades and colours,
though in their decline, to all the freshness and verdure
in their infancy ; and think all the charms and liveli¬
ness even of the spring, more than compensated by the
choice, opposition, and richness of colours, that appear
almost on every tree in the autumn.
Though one’s judgment is apt to be guided by par¬
ticular attachments (and that more perhaps in this part
of beauty than any other), yet the general persuasion
seems well founded, that a complete brown beauty is
really preferable to a perfect fair one $ the bright brown
giving a lustre to all the other colours, a vivacity to the
eyes, and a richness to the whole look, which one seeks
in vain in the whitest and most transparent skins. Ra¬
phael’s most charming Madonna is a brunette beauty;
and his earlier Madonnas (or those of his middle style)
are generally of a lighter and less pleasing complexion.
All the best artists in the noblest age of painting, about
Leo the tenth’s time, used this deeper and richer kind
of colouring ; and perhaps one might add, that the glar¬
ing lights introduced by Guido, went a great way to¬
wards the declension of that art ; as the enfeebling of
the colours by Carlo Marat (or his followers) hath since
also completed the fall of it in Italy.
Under this article colour, it seems doubtful whether
some things ought not to be comprehended which are
not perhaps commonly meant by that name. As that
appearing softness or silkiness of some skins : that (a)
Magdalen-
' (a) The look here meant is most frequently expressed by the best painters in their Magdalens $ in which, if
there were no tears on the face, you would see, by the humid redness of the skin, that she had been weeping
extremely.
B E A [ 495 ] B E A
BtBHty. Magtlalen look in some fine laces, after weeping ; tliat
' brightness, as well as tint, of the hair 5 that lustre of
health that shines forth upon the features ; that lumi¬
nousness that appears in some eyes, and that fluid fire,
or glistening, in others: Some of which are of a na¬
ture so much superior to the common beauties of co¬
lour, that they make it doubtful whether they should
not have been ranked under a higher class, and reserved
for the expressions of the passions. They are, however,
mentioned here j because even the most doubtful of them
appear to belong partly to this head, as well as partly
to the others.
2. Form. This takes in the turn of each part, as well
as the symmetry, of the whole body, even to the turn
of an eye-brow, or the falling of the hair. Perhaps,
too, the attitude, while fixed, ought to be reckoned
under this article : By which is not only meant the
posture of the person, but the position of each part ;
as the turning of the neck, the extending of the hand,
the placing of a foot, and so on to the most minute
particulars.
The general cause of beauty in the form or shape in
both sexes is a proportion, or a union and harmony, in
all parts of the body.
The distinguishing character of beauty in the female
form, is delicacy and softness ; and in the male, either
apparent strength or agility. The finest exemplars that
can be seen for the former, is the Venus of Medici} and
for the two latter, the Hercules Farnese and the Apollo
Belvedere.
There is one thing indeed in the last of these figures
which exceeds the bounds of our present inquiry;
what an Italian artist called II sovra umano ; and what
we may call the transcendent, or celestial. It is some¬
th ing distinct from all human beauty, and of a nature Beauty,
greatly superior to it ; something that seems like an ‘——v—™
air of divinity : Which is expressed, or at least is to be
traced out, in but very few works of the artists; and
of which scarcely any of the poets have caught any ray
in their descriptions (or perhaps even in their ima¬
gination), except Homer and Virgil, among the an¬
cients ; and our Shakespeare and Milton among the
moderns.
The beauty of the mere human form is much superior
to that of colour; and it may be partly for this reason,
that when one is observing the finest works of the artists
at Borne (where there is still the noblest collection of
any in the world), one feels the mind more struck and
more charmed with the capital statues, than with the
picture's of the greatest masters.
One of the old Roman poets, in speaking of a very
handsome man, who was candidate for the prize in
some of the public games, says, that he was much ex¬
pected and much admired by all the spectators at his
first appearance ; but that, when he flung off his robes,
and discovered the whole beauty of his shape altoge¬
ther', it was so superior, that it quite extinguished the
beauties they had before so much admired in his face.
Much the same effect may be felt in viewing the Venus
of Medici. If you observe the face only, it appears
extremely beautiful: but if you consider all the other
elegancies of her make, the beauty of her face becomes
less striking, and is almost lost in such a multiplicity of
charms.
Whoever would learn what makes the beauty of
each part of the human body, may find it laid down
pretty much at large, by (b) Felibiens ; or may study it
with more pleasure to himself, in the finest pictures and
statues ;
extremely. There is'a very strong instance of this in a Magdalen by Le Brun, in one of the churches at Paris;
and several by Titian, in Italy; the very best of which is at the Barberino palace at Venice. In speaking of
which, Rosalba hardly went too far, when she said, “ It wept all over;” or (in the very words she used) “ Elle
pleure jusqu’ aux bouts de doigts.”
(b) In his Entretiens, vol. ii. p. 14—45. The chief of what he-says there, on the beauty of the different
parts of the female form, is as follows : That the head should be well rounded ; and look rather inclining to
small than large. The forehead, white, smooth, and open (not with the hair growing down too deep upon it);
^either flat nor prominent, but like the head, well rounded ; and rather small in proportion than large. The
hair either bright black or brown; not thin, but full and waving; and if it falls in moderate curls the better.
The black is particularly useful for setting oil’ the whiteness of the neck and skin. The eyes black, chesnut, or
blue ; clear, bright, and lively ; and rather large in proportion than small. The eye-brows, well divided, rather
full than thin; semicircular, and broader in the middle than at the ends ; of a neat turn, but not formal. The
cheeks'should not be wide; should have a degree of plumpness, with the red and white finely blended together;
and should look firm and soft. The ear should be rather small than large ; well folded, and with an agreeable
tinge of red. The nose should be placed so as to divide the face into two equal parts ; should be of a moderate
size, straight, and well-squared; though sometimes a little rising in the nose, which is but just perceivable, may give
a very graceful look to it. The mouth should be small ; and the lips not of equal thickness. They should be
well turned, small rather than gross ; soft even to the eye ; and with a living red in them. A truly pretty
mouth is like a rose-bud that is beginning to blow. The teeth should be middle-sized, white, well-ranged, and
even. The chin of a moderate size ; white, soft, and agreeably rounded. The neck should be white, straight, and
ol a soft, easy, and flexible make, rather long than short; less above, and increasing gently toward the shoulder's:
The whiteness and delicacy of its skin should be continued, or x-ather go on improving to the bosom. The skin
in general should be white, properly tinged with red ; with an apparent softness, and a look of thriving health
in it. The shoulders should be white, gently spread, and with a much softer appearance ot strength than in those of
men. The arm should be white, round, firm, and soft; and more particularly so from the elbow to the hand.
The hand should unite insensibly with the arm ; just as it does in the statue of the Venus of Medici. They
should be long and delicate, and even the joints and nervous part of them should be without either any hard¬
ness or dryness. The fingers should be fine, long, round, and soft; small, and lessening towards the tips of
them : :
B E A
Beauty, statues J for in life we commonly see but a small part of
”*—  1 the human body, most of it being either disguised or al¬
tered by what we call dress.
In fact we do not only thus, in a great measure,
liide beauty; but even injure, and kill it, by some parts
oi dress. A child is no sooner born into the world, than
it is bound up, almost as firmly as an old Egyptian
tnummy, in several folds of linen. It is in vain for him
to give all the signs of distress that nature has put in his
power, to show how much he suffers whilst they are thus
imprisoning his limbs •, or all the signs of joy, every
time they are set at liberty. In a few minutes, the old
witch who presides over his infirmest days falls to tor¬
menting him afresh, and winds him up again in his
destined confinement. When he comes to be drest like
a man, he has ligatures applied to his arms, legs, and
middle, in short all over him, to prevent the natural cir¬
culation of his blood, and make him less active and
healthy : and if it be a child of the tenderer sex, she
must be bound yet more straitly about the waist and
Stomach, to acquire a disproportion that nature never
meant in her shape.
The two other constituent parts of beauty, are ex¬
pression and grace ; the former of which is common to
all persons and faces; but the latter is to be met with
in very few.
3. Expression. By this is meant the expression of
the passions ; the turns and changes of the mind, so
far as they are made visible to the eye by our looks or
gestures.
. Though the mind appears principally in the face and
attitudes of the head j yet every part almost of the hu¬
man body, on some occasion or other, may become ex¬
pressive. Thus the languishing hanging of the arm, of
the vehement exertion of it ; the pain expressed by the
fingers of one of the sons in the famous group of Lao-
coon, and in the toes of the dying gladiator. But this
again is often lost among us by our dress j and indeed
is of the less concern, because the expression of the pas¬
sions passes chiefly in the face, which we (by good luck)
have not as yet concealed.
t 496 1
B E A
The parts of the face in which the passions most
frequently make their appearance, are the eyes and
mouth; but from. the eyes they diffuse themselves
very strongly about the eye-broWs: as, in the other
case, they appear often in the parts all round the
mouth.
Philosophers may dispute as much as they please
about the seat of the soul 5 but wherever it resides^
we are sure that it speaks in the eyes. Perhaps it is
injuring the eye-brows, to make them only dependents
on the eye : for they, especially in lively faces, have,
as it were, a language of their own ; and are extreme¬
ly varied, according to the different sentiments and
passions of the mind.
Degree of pleasure may be often discerned in a la¬
dy’s eye-brow, though she have address enough not to
let it appear in her eyes ; and at other times may be
discovered so much of her thoughts, in the line just
above her eye-brows, that she would probably be amaz¬
ed how any body could tell what passed in her mind*
and (as she thought) undiscovered by her face, so par¬
ticularly and distinctly.
Homer makes the eye-brows the seat of (c) majesty,
Virgil of (d) dejection, Horace of (e) modesty, and
Juvenal of (f) pride; and it is not certain whether
every one of the passions be not assigned, by one or
other of the poets, to the same part.
Having hitherto spoken only of the passions in gene¬
ral, we will now consider a little which of them add to
beauty, and which of them take from it.
We may say, in general, that all the tender and kind
passions add to beauty ; and all the cruel and unkind
ones add to deformity : And it is on this account that
good nature may very justly be said to be “ the best
feature even in the finest face.”
Mr Pope has included the principal passion of each
sort in two very pretty lines:
BcaatV.
Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure’s smiling train
Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain.
The former of which naturally give an additional lustre
and
them : and the nails long, rounded at the ends, and pellucid. The bosom should be white ajid charming ; and the
bieasts equal in roundness, whiteness, and firmness; neither too much elevated nor too much depressed ; rising
gently, and very distinctly separated ; in one word, just like those of the Venus of Medici. The sides should be
long, and the hips wider than the shoulders ; and turn off as they do in the same Venus ; and go down rounding
and lessening gradually to the knee. The knee should be even and well rounded ; the legs straight, but varied
by a proper rounding of the more fleshy part of them, and the feet finely turned, white, and little.
(c) H, Kelt kveivtnmt vx itp^vtrmvn Kronen'
Ap.'o^ecno’A S %xi]ui ixt^ucrceiU ctYK%lo$
Kgeclos xx xixfeilete' fiiyxy T Ohv/xxtt. Iliad, i. 528.
It was from this passage that Phidias borrowed all the ideas of that majesty which he had expressed so strong¬
ly in his famous statues of the Jupiter Olympius ; and Horace, probably, his——Cuncta sjupercilio moventis*
Lib. iii. Od. 1. 8.
(d) Erons laeta parum, et dejecto lumina vultu. Virgil jEn. vi. 863.
(e) Deme supercilio nubem ; plerumque modestus
Occupat obscuri speciem. Horat. lib. i. epist. 18. 95.
(f) Malo Venusinam, quam te, Cornelia, mater
Gracchorum ; si cum magnus virtutibus affers
Grande supercilium, et numeras in dote triumphos. Juvenal, Sat. vi. 168.
It is here that the Romans used the word superdliosus (as we do from it the word supercilious) for proud and
arrogant persona.
B E A t 497 ] B E A
as the latter are too apt to excess of malice or rage In them, will grow as shock-
eatitr. and enlivening to beauty ,
**Y“*"”< fling a gloom and cloud over it.
Yet in these, and all the other passions, moderation
ought perhaps to be considered in a great measure the
rule of their beauty, almost as far as moderation in
actions is the rule of virtue. Thus an excessive joy may
be too boisterous in the face to be pleasing ; and a de¬
gree of grief in some faces, and on some occasions,
may be extremely beautiful. Some degrees of anger,
shame, surprise, fear, and concern, are beautiful j but
all excess is hurtful ; and all excess ugly. Dulness,
austerity, impudence, pride, affectation, "malice, and
envy, are always ugly.
The finest union of passions that can perhaps be ob¬
served in any face, consists of a just mixture of modesty,
sensibility, and sweetness; each of which when taken
singly is very pleasing; but when they are all blended
together, in such a manner as either to enliven or cor¬
rect each other, they give almost as much attraction
as the passions are capable of adding to a very pretty
face.
The prevailing passion in the Venus of Medici is
modesty ; it is exprest by each of her hands, in her
looks, and in the turn of her head. And by the way
it may be questioned, whether one of the chief reasons
why side-faces please one more than full ones, be not
from the former having more of the air of modesty than
the latter. This at least is certain, that the best artists
usually clioose to give a side-face rather than a full one;
in which attitude, the turn of the neck too has more
beauty, and the passions more activity and force. Thus,
as to hatred and affection in particular, the look that
was formerly supposed to carry an infection with it from
malignant eyes, was a slanting regard ; like that which
Milton gives to Satan, when he is viewing the happiness
of our first parents in paradise ; and the fascination, or
stroke of love, is most usually conveyed, at first in a
side-glance.
It is owing to the great force of pleasingness which
attends all the kinder passions, “ that lovers do not
only seem, but are really, more beautiful to each other
than they are to’the rest of the world because when
they are together, the most pleasing passions are more
frequently exerted in each of their faces than they are
in either before the rest of the world. There is then
(as a certain French writer very well expresses it) “ A
soul upon their countenances,” which does not appear
when they are absent from each other ; or even when
they are together conversing with other persons, that
are indifferent to them, or rather lay a restraint upon
their features.
The superiority which the beauty of the passions
has over the two parts of beauty first mentioned, will
probably be now pretty evident : or if this should ap¬
pear still problematical to any one, let him consider a
little the following particulars, of which every body
must have met with several instances in their lifetime:
That there is a great deal of difference in the same
face, according as a person is in a better or worse
humour, or in a greater or less degree of liveliness :
That the best complexion, the finest features, and the
exactest shape, without any thing of the mind expressed
on the face, are as insipid and unmoving as the waxen
figure of the fine duchess of Richmond in Westminster-
Abbey : That the finest eyes in the world, with an
Vol. III. Part II. f
ing as they are in that fine face of Medusa on the fa¬
mous seal in the Strozzi family at Rome: That a face
without any good features in it, and with a very indif¬
ferent complexion, shall have a very taking air ; from
the sensibility of the eyes, the general good-humoured
turn of the look, and perhaps a little agreeable smile
about the mouth. And these three things perhaps
would go a great way toward accounting for the Je ns
spat quoi, or that inexplicable pleasingness of the face
(as they choose to call it), which is so often talked of
and so little understood ; as the greater part, and per¬
haps all the rest of it, would fall under the last article,
that of grace.
Thus it appears that the passions can give beauty
without the assistance of colour or form ; and take it
away where they have united the most strongly to give
it. And hence the superiority of this part of beauty to
the other two.
This, by the way, may help us to account for the
justness of what Pliny asserts in speaking of the famous
statue oi Laocoon and his two sons: He says, it was
the finest piece of art in Rome ; and to he preferred to
all the other statues and pictures, of which they had
so noble a collection in his time. It had no beauties
of colour to vie with the paintings and other statues
there ; and the Apollo Belvedere and the Venus of Me¬
dici, in particular, were as finely proportioned as the
Laocoon : But this had much greater variety of ex¬
pression even than those fine ones ; and it must he on
that account alone that it could have been preferable to
them and all the rest.
Before quitting this head, two things before men¬
tioned deserve to be repeated : That the chief rule of
the beauty of the passions is moderation ; and that the
part in which they appear most strongly is the eyes.
It is there that love holds all his tenderest language :
It is there that virtue commands, modesty charms, joy
enlivens, sorrow engages, and inclination fires the
hearts of the beholders: It is there that even fear, and
anger, and confusion, can he charming. But all these,
to be charming, must he kept within their due hounds
and limits; for too sullen a,n appearance of virtue, a
violent and prostitute swell of passion, a rustic and over¬
whelming modesty, a deep sadness, or too wild and
impetuous a joy, become all either oppressive or dis¬
agreeable.
4 The last finishing and noblest part of beauty is
Grace ; which every body is accustomed to speak of as
a thing inexplicable; and in a great measure perhaps it
is so. We know that the soul is, hut we scarce know
what it is : every judge of beauty can point out grace ;
but no one seems even yet to have fixed upoti a defini¬
tion for it.
Grace often depends on some very little incidents in
a fine face ; and in actions it consists more in the man¬
ner of doing things than in the things themselves. It
is perpetually varying its appearance, and is therefore
much more difficult to be considered than in any thing
fixed and steady. While you look upon one, it steals
from under the eye of the observer ; and is succeeded
perhaps by another that flits away as soon and as im¬
perceptibly. It is on this account that grace is better
to he studied in Corregio’s, Guido’s, and Raphael’s
pictures, than in real life.
3 R But
Eeatiiv,
Beauty.
B E A [
Bat though one cannot punctually say what grace is,
we may point out the parts and things in which it is
most apt to appear.
The chief dwelling-place of grace is about the mouth j
though at times it may visit every limb or part of the
body. But the mouth is the chief seat of grace, as
much as the chief seat for the beauty of the passions is in
the eyes. Thus, when the French use the expression of
une Louche fort gracieuse, they mean it properly of
grace: but when they say, des yeux tres gracteux, it
then falls to the share of the passions; and it means
kind or favourable.
In a very graceful face, by which we do not so much
mean a majestic as a soft and pleasing one, there is
now and then (for no part of beauty is either so en¬
gaging or so uncommon) a certain deliciousness that
almost always lives about the mouth, in something not
quite enough to be called a smile, but rather an ap¬
proach towards one, which varies gently about the dif¬
ferent lines there like a little fluttering Cupid, and per¬
haps sometimes discovers a little dimple, that after just
lightening upon you disappears and appears again by
fits.
The grace of attitudes may belong to the position
of each part as well as to the carriage or disposition
of the whole body : but how much more it belongs to
the head than to any other part may be seen in the
pieces of the most celebrated painters j and particular¬
ly in those of Guido, who has been rather too lavish
in bestowing this beauty on almost all his fine women ;
whereas nature has given it in so high a degree but to
very few.
The turns of iha neck are extremely capable of grace,
and are very easy to be observed, though very difficult
to be accounted for.
How much of this grace may belong to the arms
and feet, as well as to the neck and head, may be seen
De arte A-in dancing. But it is not only in genteel motions that
tnaadt, u. a very pretty woman will be graceful $ and Ovid (who
was so great a master in all the parts of beauty) had
very good reason for saying, That when Venus, to
please her gallant, imitated the hobbling gait of her
husband, her very lameness had a great deal of prettiness
and grace in it.
“ Every motion of a graceful woman (says another
writer of the same age) is full of grace.” She designs
nothing by it perhaps, and may even not be sensible of
it herself: and indeed she should not be so too much $
for the moment that any gesture or action appears to
be affected, it ceases to be graceful.
Horace and Virgil seem to extend grace so far as to
the flowing of the hair, and Tibullus even to the dress
of his mistress j but then he assigns it more to her man¬
ner of putting on and appearing in whatever she wears
than to the dress itself. It is true, there is another
wicked poet (Ovid) who has said (with much less
decency) “ that dress is the better half of the wo¬
man
—— Pars minima est ipsa puella sm. Ovid.
There are two very distinct (and, as it were, oppo¬
site) sorts of grace j the majestic and the familiar.
The former belongs chiefly to the very fine rvomen,
and the latter to the very pretty ones: That is more
commanding, and this the more delightful and enga-
498 ] B E A
ging. The Grecian painters and sculptors used to ex¬
press the former most strongly in the looks and atti-1
tudes of their Minervas, and the latter in those of
Venus.
Xenophon, in his Choice of Hercules (or at least the
excellent translator of that piece), has made just the
same distinction in the personages of Wisdom and Plea¬
sure ; the former of which he describes as moving on to
that young hero with the majestic sort of grace j and
the latter with the familiar:
Graceful, yet each with different grace they move j
This striking sacred awe, that softer winning love.
No poet seems to have understood this part of beau¬
ty so well as our own Milton. He speaks ot these
two sorts of grace very distinctly j and gives the ma¬
jestic to his Adam, and both the familiar and majestic
to Eve, but the latter in a less degree than the former:
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,
Godlike erect, with native honour clad,
In naked majesty, seem’d lords of all j
And worthy seem’d. For in their looks divine
The image of their glorious Maker shone :
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and purej
Severe, but in true filial freedom plac’d :
Whence true authority in men : Though both
Not equal, as their sex not equal, seem’d j
For contemplation he, and valour, form’d ;
For softness she, and sweet attractive grace.
Milton’s Par. Lost, book iv. 298.
.. ,     I espy’d thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a plantain ; yet methought less fair,
Eess winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth wat’ry image- 
(Eve, of Adam and herself') lb. ver. 480*
Beasty
570,
TAnt Hus,
l*t>. iv.
I. i. 8.
Her heav’nly form
Angelic, but more soft and feminine j
Her graceful innocence ; her ev’ry air
Of gesture, or least action.—— B. ix. 461#
Grace was in all her steps ; Heav’n in her eye j
In every gesture, dignity and love. B. viii. 489.
Speaking or mute, all comeliness and grace
Attends thee 5 and each word, each motion, forms.
lb. 223.
Though grace is so difficult to be accounted for in
general, yet there are two particular things which seem
to hold universally in relation to it.
The first is, “ That there is no grace without mo¬
tion ; that is, without some genteel or pleasing mo¬
tion, either of the whole body or of some limb, or at
least of some feature. And it may be hence that Lord
Bacon calls grace by the name of decent motion; just
as if they were equivalent terms : “ In beauty, tbat^>r*f»
of favour is more than that of colour j and that of gra*p°2<a.
cious and decent motion, more than that of favour.”
Virgil in one place points out the majesty of Juno, j&i. i, 14*
and in another the graceful air of Apollo, by only ir. 47*
saying that they move; and possibly he means no
more when he makes the motion of Venus the princi¬
pal thing by which iEneas discovers her under all her^. 1,40:
disguise:
B E A
disguise : though the commentators, as usual, would
— v 1 fain find out a more dark, and mysterious meaning for
it.
All the best statues are represented as in some action
or motion 5 and the most graceful statue in the world
(the Apollo Belvedere) is so much so, that when one
faces it at a little distance, one is almost apt to imagine
that he is actually going to move on toward you.
All graceful heads, even in the portraits of the best
painters, are in motion ; and very strongly on those of
Guido in particular ; which are all either casting their
looks up toward heaven, or down toward the ground,
or side-way, as regarding some object. A head that is
quite unactive, and flung flat upon the canvas (like the
faces on medals after the fall of the Eoman empire, or
the Gothic heads before the revival of the arts), will be
so far from having any grace, that it will not even have
any life in it.
The second observation is, “ That there can be no
grace with improprietyor, in other words, that no¬
thing can be graceful that is not adapted to the charac¬
ters of the person.
The graces of a little lively beauty would becofne un¬
graceful in a character of majesty : as the majestic airs
of an empress would quite destroy the prettiness of the
former. The vivacity that adds a grace to beauty in
youth would give an additional deformity to old age j
and the very same airs which would be charming on
some occasions may be quite shocking when extremely
mistimed or extremely misplaced.
The inseparable union of propriety and grace seems
to have been the general sense of mankind, as we may
guess from the languages of several nations $ in which
some words that answer to our proper or becoming,
are used indifferently for beautiful or graceful. Thus,
among the Greeks the words ITgS5r«v and and
among the Romans pulchrum and decens, or decorum,
are used indifferently for one another.
It appears wrong, however, to think (as some have
done) that grace consists entirely in propriety; because
propriety is a thing easy enough to be understood, and
grace (after all we can say about it) very difficult.
Propriety, therefore, and grace are no more one and
the same thing than grace and motion are. It is true,
it cannot subsist without either j but then there seems
to be something else, which cannot be explained, that
goes to the composition, and which possibly may give
it its greatest force and pleasingness.
Whatever are the causes of it, this is certain, that
grace is the chief of all the constituent parts of beau¬
ty : and so much so, that it seems to be the only one
which is absolutely and universally admired : All the
rest are only relative. One likes a brunette beauty
better than a fair one $ I may'love a little woman, and
you a large one, best j a person of a mild temper will
be fond of the gentler passions in the face, and one of
a bolder cast may choose to have more vivacity and
more vigorous passions expressed there : But grace is
found in few, and is pleasing to all. Grace, like poe¬
try, must be born with a person, and is never wholly
to be acquired by art. The most celebrated of all the
ancient painters was Apelles j and the most celebrated
of all the modern Raphael : And it is remarkable,
that the distinguishing character of each of them
was grace. Indeed, that alone could have given them
B E A
so high a pre-eminence over all their other corapeti- Beauty,
tors. i——
Grace has nothing to do with the lowest part of beau¬
ty or colour ; very little with shape, and very much
with the passions 5 for it is she who gives their highest
zest, and the most delicious part of their pleasingness
to the expressions of each of them.
All the other parts of beauty are pleasing in some
degree, but grace is pleasingness itself. And the old
Romans in general seem to have had this notion of it,
as may be inferred from the original import of the
names which they used for this part of beauty: Gra¬
tia from grains, or “ pleasing j” and decor from deccns,
or “ becoming.”
The Greeks as well as the Romans must have been
of this opinion 5 when in settling their mythology, they
made the Graces the constant attendants of Venus, or
the cause of love. In fact, there is nothing causes love
so generally and so irresistibly as grace. It is like the
cestus of the same goddess, which was supposed to
comprehend every thing that was winning and enga¬
ging in it j and beside all, to oblige the heart to love
by a secret and inexplicable force like that of some ma¬
gic charm.
She said ; with awe divine, the queen of love
Obey’d the sister and the wife of Jove :
And from her fragrant breast the zone unbrac’d,
With various skill and high embroidery grac’d.
In this was every art, and every charm,
To win the wisest, and the coldest warm :
Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire,
The kind deceit, the still reviving fire.
Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs,
Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
This on her hand the Cyprian goddess laid ;
Take this, and with it all thy wish, she said :
With smiles she took the charm j and smiling prest
The powerful Cestus to her snowy breast.
Pope, 11. xiv. 256.
Although people in general are more capable of judg¬
ing right of beauty, at least in some parts of it, than
they are of most other things ; yet there are a great
many causes apt to mislead the generality in their judge¬
ments of beauty. Thus if the affection is entirely en¬
gaged by any one object, a man is apt to allow all per¬
fections to that person, and very little in comparison to
any body else j or if they ever commend others highly,
it is for some circumstance in which they bear some
resemblance to their favourite object.
Again, people are very often misled in their judge¬
ments, by a similitude either of their own temper or per¬
sonage in others. It is hence that a person of a mild
temper is more apt to be pleased with the gentler pas¬
sions in the face of his mistress ; and one of a very live¬
ly turn would choose more of spirit and vivacity in his :
that little people are inclined to prefer pretty women,
and larger people majestic ones $ and so on in a great
variety of instances. This may be called falling in love
with ourselves at second hand; and self-love (whatever
other love may be) is sometimes so false-sighted, that
it may make the most plain, and even the most disagree¬
able things, seem beautiful and pleasing.
Sometimes an idea of usefulness may give a turn to
our ideas of beauty j as the very same things are rec-
3 R 2 koned
[ 499 ]
B E A f 500 il B E A
?eanty. konetl beauties in a coach horse which vyould he so
* ’ many blemishes in a race horse.
But the greatest and most general misleader of our
judgments, in relation to beauty, is custom, or the dif¬
ferent national tastes for beauty, which turn chiefly on
the two lower parts of it, colour and form.
It was from the most common shape of his country¬
women, that Rubens, in his pictures, delights so much
in plumpness j not to give it a worse name. When¬
ever he was to represent the most beautiful women, he
is sure it give them a good share of corpulence. It
seems as if nobody could be a beauty with him under
two hundred weight. His very Graces are all fat.
But this may go much farther than mere bulk ; it
will reach even to very great deformities, which some¬
times grow into beauties, where they are habitual and
general. One of our own countrymen (who was a
particularly handsome man) in his travelling over the
Alps, was detained by a fever in one of those villages,
where every grown person has that sort of swellings in
the neck which they call goitres; and of which some
• are very near as big as their heads. The first Sunday
that he was able, he went to their church (for he was
a Roman catholic) to return thanks to heaven for his
recovery. A man of so good a figure, and so well
drest, had probably never before been within the walls
of that chapel. Every body’s eyes were fixed upon
him: and as they went out, they cried out loud enough
for him to hear them, “ O how completely handsome
would that man be, if he had but a goitre /”
In some of the most military nations of Africa, no
man is reckoned handsome that has not five or six scars
in his face. This custom might possibly at first be in¬
troduced among them to make them less afraid of
wounds in that part in battle : but however that was,
it grew at last to have so great a share in their idea of
beauty, that they now cut and slash the faces of their
poor little infants, in order to give them those graces,
when they are grown up, which are so necessary to
win the hearts of their mistresses j and which, with the
assistance of some jewels or ingots of gold in their
noses, ears, and lips, must certainly be irresistible
to the ladies of that country.
The covering each cheek all over with a burning sort
of red colour, has long been looked upon in a neigh¬
bouring country to be as necessary to render a fine lady’s
face completely beautiful, as these scars are for the beaux
in Africa.
The natural complexion of the Italian ladies is of a
higher glow, than .ours usually are j and yet Mr Addi¬
son is very just, in making a Numidian call the ladies
of the same country pale unripened beauties.
The glowing dames of Zama’s royal court
Have faces flusht with more exalted charms :
Ihe sun, that rolls his chariot o’er their heads,
Works up more fire and colour in their cheeks :
Were you with these, my prince, you’d soon forget
The pale unripen’d beauties of the north !
Syphax to Juba: in Cato, act i. scene 4.
.The prince of Anamaboo, who had been so long and
latterly so much used to the European complexion, yet
said of a certain lady a little before he left London,
“ 1 hat she would be the most charming woman in the
world if she was but a negro.”
• 3
In an account of some of the farthest travels that any
of our people have made up the river Gambia, we are Beaut
informed, that when they came to some villages where
probably no Europeans had ever been before, the women
ran frightened and screaming from them, on taking
them to be devils, merely on account of the whiteness
of their complexion.
We cannot avoid observing, however, that heaven is
very good and merciful to mankind, even in making us
capable of all this variety of mistakes. If every person
judged exactly right of beauty, every man that was in
love in such a district, would be in love with the same
woman. The superior beauty of each hamiet would
be the object of the hate and malice of all the rest of
her own sex in it, and the cause of dissension and mur¬
ders among all of the other. If this would hold in one
town, it would hold for the same reasons in every other
town or district} and of course there would be nothing
more wanting than this universal right judgment of
beauty, to render the whole world one continued scene
of blood and misery.
But now that fancy has perhaps more to do with
beauty than judgment, there is an infinity of tastes,
and consequently an infinity of beauty ; for to the
mind of the lover, supposed beauty is full as good as
real. Every body may now choose out what happens
to hit his own turn and cast. This increases the ex¬
tent of beauty vastly, and makes it in a manner univer¬
sal : for there are but few people in comparison that
are truly beautiful $ but every body may be beautiful
m the imagination of some one or other. Some may
delight themselves in a black skin, and others in a white j
seme in a gentle natural rosiness of complexion, others
in a high exalted artificial red j some nations in waists
disproportionably large, and others in waists as dispro-
portionably small. In short, the most opposite things
imaginable may each be looked upon as beautiful in
whole different countries, or by different people in the
same country.
We should perhaps make a distinction here again, as
to the two former parts of beauty and the two latter.
Fancy has much more to do in the articles of form and
colour than in those of the passions and grace. The
good passions, as they are visible on the face, are ap¬
parent goodness 5 and that must be generally amiable:
and true grace, wherever it appears to any degree, one
should think must be jileasing to every human creature 5
or perhaps this may never appear in the women of any
nation, where the men are grown so savage an$ brutal
as to have lost all taste of it.
Yet even as to grace itself, under the notion of plea¬
singness, it may become almost universal, and be as sub¬
ject to the dominion of fancy as any of the less signifi¬
cant parts of beauty. A parent can see gentleness in
the most awkward child perhaps that ever was born £
and a person who is truly in love, will be pleased with
evgry motion and air of the person beloved ; which is
the most distinguishing character that belongs to grace.
See this subject more fully considered in the article
Beauty in the Supplement.
Beauty, in Architecture, Painting, and other arts,
is the harmony and justness of the whole composition
taken together.
BEAUVAIS, an episcopal city of France, in the
department of Oise. The cathedral church, which
is
BEC- [ 501 ] EEC
Beauvais is dedicated to St Peter, is much admired for its fine
i) architecture. It contains a great number of relics,
Becher. antJ a library of curious books. The town was ineffec-
tually besieged by the English in 1443, and by the
duke of Burgundy with an army of 80,000 men. In
this last siege the women signalized themselves under
the conduct of Jean Hachette, who set up a standard
yet preserved in the church of the Jacobins. The duke
was obliged to raise the siege; and in memory of this
exploit, the women walk first in a procession on the
10th of July, tbe anniversary of their deliverance. The
town had 12,800 inhabitants in 1815. Beauvais is
situated on the river Therin, 42 miles north of Paris,
in E. Long. 2. 15. N. Lat. 49. 26.
Beauvais, a town of France in Upper Languedoc,
seated on the river Tescou. E. Long. 1. 43. N. Lat.
44. 2.
BEAUVIN, a city of Burgundy in France, in E.
Long. 4. 50. N. Lat. 47.
BEAUVOIR sur Men, a maritime town of France,
in the department of Vendee, 25 miles south-west of
Nantes. W. Long. 1. 5. N. Lat. 46. 45.
BEAUVOISIS, a territory of France, formerly part
of Picardy, now included under the department of Oise.
BEBELINGUEN, a town of Suabia, in the king¬
dom of Wirtemberg in Germany, seated on a lake from
which proceeds the river Worm. E. Long. 9. 8. N.
Lat. 48. 45.
BEBRYCIA, in Ancient Geography, an ancient
name of Bithynia, so called Irom the Bebryces its in¬
habitants. Jhe Bebryces were afterwards driven out
by the Thracians, viz. the Bithyni and Thyni: from
whom, in process of time, the country took the name
of Bithynia. See Bithynia.
EEC, a town of France, in the department of Lower
Seine, seated on a tongue of land, at the confluence of
two rivers. E. Long. o. 52. N. Lat. 48. 45.
BECAH, or BekaH, a Jewish coin, being half a
shekel. In Dr Arbuthnot’s table of reductions, the
bekah amounts to i3r|d.; in Dr Prideaux’s computa¬
tion to is. 6d. Every Israelite paid an hundred bekahs
a head annually for the snpport of the temple.
BECALM, in a general sense, signifies to appease,
to allay.
Becalm, in the sea language. A ship is said to be
becalmed when there is not a breath of wind to fill the
sails.
BECANOR, a town of India, in Asia, seated on the
river Ganges, in E. Long. 83. 3. N. Lat. 27. 40.
BECCABUNGA, Brooklime ; the trivial name of
a species of veronica. See Veronica, Botany Index.
BECCARIA, Caesar Bonesana, Marquis of,
an Italian writer on jurisprudence. See Supplement.
Beccaria, Giambattista, an Italian natural philo¬
sopher. See Supplement.
BECCLES, a town of Suffolk in England, con¬
taining 2979 inhabitants in 1811. E. Long. 1. 20.
N. Lat. 52. 38.
BECHER, John Joachim, a celebrated chemist,
was born at Spires, in 1645. He was connected with
the most learned men in Europe j and the emperor, the
electors of Mentz and Bavaria, and other persons of
high rank, furnished him with the means of making ex¬
periments in mathematics, natural philosophy, medicine,
and chemistry. As his thoughts were very judicious and
uncommon with respect to economy and to increasing Efcfie,
the revenues of a state, he was invited to Vienna, where ||
he contributed greatly to the establishment of several Beck-
manufactures, a chamber of commerce, arid an India '■"““'V—■”
company ; but the jealousy of some of the ministers oc¬
casioned his disgrace and ruin. He was not less un-
happy at Mentz, Munich, and Wurtzburg;- which de¬
termined him to go to Haerlem, where he invented a
machine for working a great quantity of silk in a little
time, and with few hands : but new misfortunes made
him come to England, and he died at London in 1685.
Fie wrote many works ; the principal of which are,
1. Physica Subterranea, which was reprinted at Leipsic
in 1703, and 1739, in octavo, with a small treatise,
by E. Stahl, entitled Specimen Becherianum. 2. Ex-
perimentum chymicum novum, 8vo. 3. Character pro
Notitia Linguarum universali. 4. Institutiones Chy-
micee, seu Manuductio ad Philosophiam Hermeticam,
4to. 5. Institutiones ChymictB prodromce, i2mo. 6.
Experimentum novum ac curiosum de Minera arenaria
perpetua, &c.
BECHIN, a town of Bohemia, in the circle of the
same name. It was taken and burnt by General Be-
quoi in 1619. It is seated on the river Lausnics, in
E. Long. 15. 12. N. Lat. 49. 14.
BECK, or Beke, a word which imports a small
stream of water issuing from some burn or spring.
Hence Hell-becks, little brooks in the rough and wild
mountains about Richmond near Lancashire, so called
on account of their ghastliness and depth.
Beck is chiefly used among us in the composition of
names of places originally situated on rivulets: hence
Walbeck, Bournbeck, &c. The Germans use bech in
the same manner.
Beck, David, an eminent portrait painter, was
born at Arnheim in Guelderland in 1621, and became
a disciple of Vandyck; from whom he acquired a fine
manner of penciling, and that sweet style of colouring
which is peculiar to that great master and to all the
disciples trained up under his direction. He possessed
besides, that freedom of hand, and readiness, or rather
rapidity of execution, for which Vandyck was so re¬
markably famous ; and King Charles I. when he ob-
lerved the expeditious manner of Beck’s painting, was
so exceedingly surprised, that he told Beck, it was his
opinion, he could paint if he was riding post. He was
appointed portrait-painter and chamberlain to Queen
Christina of Sweden ; and by her recommendation,
most of the illustrious persons in Europe sat to him for
their pictures. Fie was agreeable, handsome, and po¬
lite, and lived in the highest favour with his royal mi¬
stress : but, having an earnest desire to visit his friends
in Holland, and leaving the court of Sweden much
against the queen’s inclination, she apprehended that
he intended never to return ; and, as he died soon af¬
ter at the Hague, it was suspected that he was poison¬
ed. This happened in 1656, when he was aged only
35 years. A very singular adventure happened to this
painter as he travelled through Germany, which seems
not unworthy of being recited. He was suddenly and
violently taken ill at the inn where he lodged, and was
laid out as a corpse, seeming to all appearance quite
dead. His valets expressed the strongest marks of grief
for the loss of their master, and while they sat beside
his bed, they drank very freely by way of consolation..
B E C [ 502 ] B E C
Beck, At last one of them, who grew much intoxicated, said
Becket. to his companions, Our master was fond of his glass
v while he was alive, and out of gratitude let us give him
a glass now he is dead. As the rest of the servants as¬
sented to the proposal, he raised up the head of his
master, and endeavoured to pour some of the liquor into
his mouth* By the fragrance of the wine, or probably
by a small quantity that imperceptibly got down his
throat, Beck opened his eyes ; and the servant being
excessively drunk, and forgetting that his master was
considered as dead, compelled him to swallow W'hat
wine remained in the glass. The painter gradually re¬
vived, and by proper management and care recovered
perfectly, and escaped a premature interment. How
highly the works of this master were esteemed, may
appear from the many marks of distinction and honour
which were shown him j for he received from different
princes, as an acknowledgment of his singular merit,
nine gold chains, and several medals of gold, of a very
large size.
BECKET, Thomas, ford chancellor of England,
archbishop of Canterbury in the 12th century. The
story of his birth is as extraordinary as that of his life.
It is related that his father Gilbert Becket, some time
sheriff" of London, went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem,
where being surprised and enslaved by a party of Sara¬
cens, his master’s daughter fell in love with him ; and
that when he made his escape she followed him to Lon¬
don. So singular an instance of heroic affection struck
him ; and after consulting with some bishops, he bap¬
tized her by the name of Matilda, and married her j
from which marriage proceeded the haughty Thomas
Becket. Being raised to the archbishopric, he began
the great dispute between the crown and the mitre,
and sided with the pope: at which King Henry II. was
greatly offended 5 and calling an assembly of the bishops
at Westminster, offered six articles against papal en¬
croachments, which he urged Becket to assent to.
Becket, at the importunities of several lords, signed
them ; but relapsing, he was ordered to be tried as a
traitor: upon which he fled into Flanders. The king
banished all his relations, and Becket excommunicated
all his opposers. At last, after seven years, by the in¬
tercession of the French king and the pope, he return¬
ed ; but refused to absolve these bishops and others he
bad excommunicated : whereupon the king grew enra¬
ged, and is reported to have/dropped these expressions:
“ I hat he was an unhappy prince, who maintained a
great number of lazy insignificant persons about him,
none of whom had gratitude or spirit enough to re¬
venge him on a single insolent prelate who gave him so
much disturbance.” These words of the king put four
gentlemen of his court on forming a design against
the archbishop’s life, which they executed in the ca¬
thedral church of Canterbury, on the 29th of Decem¬
ber 1171. They endeavoured to drag him out of the
church j but finding they could not do this without
difficulty, killed him there. The assassins being afx-aid
they had gone too far, durst not return to the king’s
court at Normandy, but retired to Knaresborough in
\ orkshire $ where everybody avoided their company,
hardly any person even choosing to eat or drink with
them. They at length took a voyage to Rome, and
being admitted to penance by Pope Alexander III.
they went to Jerusalem j where, according to the pope’s
order, they spent their lives in penitential austerities, Beeket
and died in the Black Mountain. They were buried ats,
Jerusalem, without the church door belonging to tire
Templars. King Henry was, or affected to be, much
disturbed at the news of Becket’s death, and de¬
spatched an embassy to Rome to clear himself from
the imputation of being the cause of it. Immedi¬
ately all divine offices ceased in the church of Canter¬
bury, and this for a year, excepting nine days 5 at the
end of which, by order ef the pope, it was reconsecra¬
ted. Two years after, Becket was canonized j and
the following year, Henry returning to England, went
to Canterbury, where he did penance as a testimony of
his regret for the murder of Becket. When he came
within sight of the church where the archbishop was
buried, he alighted off his horse, and walked barefoot,
in the habit of a pilgrim, till he came to Becket’a
tomb $ where, after he had prostrated himself and pray¬
ed for a considerable time, he submitted to be scour¬
ged by the monks, and passed all that day and night
without any refreshment, and kneeling upon the bare
stone. In 1221 Becket’s body was taken up, 50 years
after his murder, in the presence of King Henry III.
and a great concourse of the nobility and others, and
deposited in a rich shrine, erected at the expence of
Stephen Langton archbishop of Canterbury, which was
soon visited from all parts, and enriched with the most
costly gifts and offerings; and the miracles said to be
wrought at his tomb were so numerous, that Gervase
of Canterbury tells us, there were two large volumes
of them kept in that church. The monks used to
raise his body every year ; and the day on which this
ceremony was performed, which was called the day oj
Ms translation, was a general holiday : every 50th year
there was celebrated a jubilee to his honour, which
lasted 15 days: plenary indulgences were then granted
to all that visited his tomb; and 100,000 pilgrims have
been registered at a time in Canterbury. The devo¬
tion towards him had quite effaced in that town the
adoration of the Deity ; nay, even that of the Virgin.
At God’s altar, for instance, there were offered in one
year 3I. 2s. 6d. ; at the Virgin’s, 63k 5s. 6d. ; at St
Thomas’s, 832k 12s. 3d. But next year the dispropor¬
tion was still greater: there was not a penny offered at
God’s altar ; the Virgin’s gained only 4I. is. 8d. ; but
St Thomas had got for his share 954k 6s. 3d. Louis
VII. of France had made a pilgrimage to this mira¬
culous tomb, and had bestowed on the shrine a jewel
which was esteemed the richest in Christendom. Henry
VIII. to whom it may easily be imagined how ob¬
noxious a saint of this character behoved to appear,
and how much contrary to all his projects for degra¬
ding the authority of the court of Rome, not only pil¬
laged the rich shrine dedicated to St Thomas, but
made the saint himself be cited to appear in court, and
be tried and condemned as a traitor : he ordered his
name to be struck out of the kalendar; the office for
his festival to be expunged from all breviaries ; and his
bones to be burnt, and the ashes thrown in the air.
From Mr Thomas Warton we learn, that Becket was
the subject of poetical legends. The Lives of the Saints
in verse, in Bennet’s library (Number CLXV.), contain
his martyrdom and translation. This manuscript is
supposed to be of the 14th century. The same inge¬
nious writer informs us, from Peter de Blois, that the
palace
Jacket
H
J3ed.
B E 13 [ 5°3 ] BED
palace of Becket was perpetually filled with bishops rally of feathers enclosed In a ticken case.
highly accomplished in literature, who passed their time
there in reading, disputing, and deciding important
questions of the state. “ These prelates, though men
of the world, were a society of scholars ; yet very dif¬
ferent from those who frequented the universities, in
which nothing was taught but words and syllables, un¬
profitable subtleties, elementary speculations,and trifling
distinctions. De Blois was himself eminently learned,
and one of the most distinguished ornaments of Becket’s
attendants. We know that John of Salisbury, his in¬
timate friend, the companion of his exile, and the
writer of W life, was scarcely exceeded by any man of
his time for his knowledge in philological and polite li¬
terature.”
BECKINGHAM, Charles, an English dramatic
writer, was the son of a linen-draper in London, and
born in 1699. He was educated at that great nursery
of learning Merchant Taylor’s school, under the learned
Dr Smith, where he made a very great proficiency in
all his studies, and gave the strongest testimonials of
very extraordinary abilities. In poetry more particu¬
larly he very early discovered an uncommon genius, two
dramatic pieces of his writing being represented on
the stage before he had completed his 20th year: and
those not such as required the least indulgence or al¬
lowance on account of his years; but such as bore evi¬
dence to a boldness of sentiment, and accuracy of dic¬
tion, an ingenuity of conduct, and a maturity of judge¬
ment, which would have done honour to a much more
ripened age. The titles of his plays, both of which
are tragedies, are, 1. Henry IV. of France. 2. Scipio
Africanus. At the representation of the last-mentioned
piece, which indeed was the first he wrote, his school¬
master Dr Smith gave all his boys a holiday on the af¬
ternoon of the author’s benefit, in order to afford an
opportunity to such of them as pleased to pay their
compliments to their school-fellow on that occasion.
Besides these dramatic pieces, he wrote several other
poems : but his genius was not permitted any very long
period to expand itself in ; for he died on the 18th of
February I730> in the 3 2d year of his age.
BECKMAN, John, an eminent German writer.
See Supplement.
BECKUM, a town of the bishopric of Munster, in
Germany, seated at the source of the river Verse, in
E. Long. 8. 18. N. Lat. 51. 46.
BECSANGIL, anciently Bithynia, a province of
Natolia in Asia j bounded on the north by the Black
sea ; on the west, by the sea of Marmora ; on the south,
by Natolia Proper : and on the east, by the province
of Bolli. The principal town is Bursa.
BECTASSE, an order or sect of religious among
the Turks, denominated from their founder Bedash,
preacher to Sultan Amurath. All the Janizaries be¬
longing to the Porte are of the religion of Bectasse,
being even said to have derived their origin from the
founder of this sect. The habit of the Bectasse is white:
on their heads they wear white caps of several pieces,
with turbans of wool twisted rope-fashion. They ob¬
serve constantly the hour of prayer, which they per¬
form in their own assemblies, and make frequent de¬
clarations of the unity of God.
BED, a convenience for stretching and composing
the. body on, for ease, rest, or sleep, consisting gene-,
Bed,
—v—
. , There are
varieties of beds, as a standing-bed, a settee-bed, a tent-
bed, a truckle-bed, &c.
It was universally the practice, in the first ages, for JVkitta-
niankind to sleep upon skins of beasts. It was origi- her's Hht6~
nally the custom of the Greeks and Homans. It was *2/Mara*
particularly the custom of the ancient Britons before^ies^eri
the Homan invasion 5 and these skins were spread on the
floor of their apartments. Afterwards they were chan¬
ged for loose rushes and heath, as the Welsh a few
years ago lay on the former, and|the Highlanders of
Scotland sleep on the latter to this present moment. In
process of time, the Homans suggested to the interior
Batons the use, and the introduction of agriculture
supplied them with the means, of the greater conveni-
ency of straw beds. rIhe beds of the * Homan gentry
at this period were generally filled with feathers, and lib. viii;
those of the inns with the soft down of reeds. But for0- 48.and
many ages the beds of the Italians had been constantly «•
composed of straw 5 it still formed those of the soldiers
and officers at the conquest of Lancashire; and from
both, our countrymen learnt their use. But it appears
to have been taken up only by the gentlemen, as the
common Welsh had their beds thinly stuffed with rushes
as late as the conclusion of the 12th century j and with
the gentlemen it continued many ages afterwards.-
Straw was used even in the royal chambers of Eng¬
land as late as the close of the 13th. Most of the pea¬
sants about Manchester lie on chaft’ at present, as do ■
likewise the common people all over Scotland : In the
Highlands heath also is very generally used as bedding,,
even by the gentry; and the repose on a heath bed has
been celebrated by travellers as a peculiar luxury, su¬
perior to that yielded by down : In France and Italy,
straw beds remain general to this day. But after the
above period, beds were no longer suffered to rest up¬
on the ground. The better mode, that had anciently
prevailed in the east, and long before been introduced
into Italy, was adopted in Britain ; and they were now
mounted on pedestals t. This, however, was equally f Gen. alizr'
confined to the gentlemen. The bed still continued on
the floor among the common people. And the gross
custom, that had prevailed from the beginning was re¬
tained by the lower Britons to the last $ and these
ground-beds were laid along the walls of their houses,
and formed one common dormitory for all the members
of the family. The fashion continued universally among
the inferior ranks of the Welsh within these four or five
ages, and with the more uncivilized part of the High¬
landers down to our own times. And even at no great
distance from Manchester, in the neighbouring Buxton,
and within these 60 or 70 years, the persons that repaired
to the bath are all said to have slept in one long cham¬
ber together j the upper part being allotted to the ladies,
and the lower to the gentlemen, and only partitioned
from each other by a curtain.
Dining-Bed, ledus triciiniai'is or discubitorius, that
whereon the ancients lay at meals. The dining or dis-
cubitory beds were four or five feet high. Three of
these beds were ordinarily ranged by a square table,
(whence both the table and the room where they ate
were called tricliniuni) in such a manner that one of
the sides of the table remained open and accessible to ►
the waiters. Each bed would hold three or four, rarely
fiye persons. These beds were unknown before the se- •
- cond i
Bed
II
Beda.
BED
cOnd Punic war: the Romans, till then, sat down to
eat on plain wooden benches, in imitation of the heroes
of Homer, or, as Varro expresses it, after the manner
of the Lacedemonians and Cretans. Scipio Africa-
nus first made an innovation : he had brought from
Carthage some of those little beds called/w/Mcom, or
archaici; being of a wood common enough, very low,
stuffed only with straw or hay, and covered with goats
or sheep’s skins, hcedinispellibus strati. ] n reality, there
was no great difference, as to delicacy, between these
new beds and the ancient benches $ but the custom of
frequent bathing, which began then to obtain, by soft¬
ening and relaxing the body, put men on trying to rest
themselves more commodiously by lying along than by
sitting down. For the ladies, it did not seem at first
consistent with their modesty to adopt the mode of ly¬
ing : accordingly they kept to the old custom ajl the
time of the commonwealth ; but, from the first Caesars,
they ate on their beds. For the youth who had not
yet put on the toga virtlis, they were long kept to the
ancient discipline. When they were admitted to table,
they only sat on the edge of the beds of their nearest
relations. Never, says Suetonius, did the young Cae¬
sars, Caius and Lucius, eat at the table of Augustus J
but they were set in imo loco, or, as Tacitus expresses
it, ad lecti fulcra. From the greatest simplicitv, the
Romans by degrees carried their dining beds to the
most surprising magnificence. Pliny assures us, it was
no new thing to see them covered over with plates of
silver, adorned with the softest mats, and the richest
counterpanes. Lampridius, speaking of Heliogabalus,
says, he had beds of solid silver, solido argento habuit
Icctos et tnchniares, ct cubiculares. We may add,
that Pompey, in his third triumph, brought in beds of
gold.— 1 he Romans had also beds whereon they studied,
and beds whereon the dead were carried to the funeral
pile.
Bed-Moulding, in Architecture, a term used for
those members of a corniche which are placed below
the coronet ; and now usually consist of an ogee, a
list, a large boultine, and another list under the co¬
ronet.
Bed of Justice, in the old customs of France, a
throne upon which the king sat when he went to the
parliament. Ihe king never held a bed of justice un¬
less for affairs that concerned the state, and then all the
officers of parliament were clothed in scarlet robes.
Bed of the Carriage of a Great Gun, a thick plank,
that lies under the piece ; being, as it were, the body
of the carriage.
Bed, in Masonry, a course or range of stones ; and
the joint of the bed is the mortar between two stones,
placed over each other.
Bed, in Gardening, square or oblong pieces of
ground in a garden, raised a little above the level of the
adjoining ground, and wherein they sow seeds or plant
roots.
Hot-BED. See Hot-Bed.
Lords of the Bed Chamber, in the British court, are
12 noblemen who attend in their turns, each a month j
du ring which time they lie in the king’s bed-chamber,
and wait on him when he dines in private. Their salary
is icool. per annum.
BEDA, commonly called Venerable Bede, one of
our most ancient historians, was born in the year 672,
BED
in the neighbourhood of Weremouth, in the bishopric
of Durham. He was educated by the abbot Benedict
in the monastery of St Peter, near the mouth of the ri¬
ver Wyre. At the age of 19 he was ordained deacon,
and priest in the year 702. About this time he was
invited to Rome by Pope Sergius $ but there is no suffi¬
cient reason to believe that he accepted the invitation.
In the year 731 he published his Ecclesiastical History;
a work of so much merit, notwithstanding the legendary-
tales it contains, that it were alone sufficient to immor¬
talize the author. He died in the year 733 of a lin¬
gering consumption, probably occasioned by a seden¬
tary life, and a long uninterrupted application to stu¬
dy and literary compositions, of which he left an in¬
credible number. He was buried in the church of his
convent at Jarrow: but his bones were afterwards re¬
moved to Durham, and there deposited in the same
coffin with those of St Cuthbert. Bede was undoubt¬
edly a singular phenomenon in an ignorant and illiterate
age. His learning, for the times, was extensive, his
application incredible, his piety exemplary, and his
modesty excessive. He was universally admired, con¬
sulted, and esteemed, during his life: and his writings
are deservedly considered as the foundation of our ec¬
clesiastical history. His language is neither elegant
nor pure, but perspicuous and easy.—All his works
are in Latin. The first general collection of them ap¬
peared at Paris in 1544, in three volumes in folio.
They w'ere printed again at the same place in 1554, in
eight volumes. They were also published in the same
size and number of volumes at Basil in 1563, reprinted
at Cologne in 1612, and at the same place in 1688.
Besides this general collection, there are several of his
compositions, which have been printed separately, or
amongst the collections of the writings of ancient au¬
thors ; and there are several manuscripts ascribed to
him, which are preserved in the different libraries in
Oxford and Cambridge.
BEDALL, a town in the north riding of York¬
shire. Through this town passes a Roman causeway to
Richmond, &c. W. Long. 1. 40. N. Lat. 54. 30.
BEDARIEUX, or Bec d’Arieux, a town of Lan¬
guedoc in France; now the department of Herault,
seated on the river Obe, in E. Long. 3. 24. N. Lat.
43- 29-
BEDDOES, Thomas, an eminent English medical
writer. See SUPPLEMENT.
BEDEL. See Beadle.
Bedel, a small town in the north riding of York¬
shire, seated on a little brook, in W. Long. 1. 30.
N. Lat. 54. 30.
BEDELL, Dr 'William, a learned prelate, born
in Essex in 157°* went with Sir Henry Wotton
the English ambassador to the republic of Venice, as
his chaplain, in 1604; and continuing eight years in
that city, contracted an intimate acquaintance with the
famous Father Paul, of whom he learned Italian so well
as to translate the English Common Prayer Book into
that language : in return he drew' up an English gram¬
mar for Father Paul, who declared he had learned more
from him in all parts of divinity than from any one
beside. He was accordingly much concerned when
Bedell left Venice; and at his departure presented him
with his picture, the MSS. of his History of the Coun¬
cil of Trent, his History of the Interdict and Inquisi¬
tion,
C 5*4 1
Ed<i
II
Bedell.
BED [
tion, with other literary donations. In 1629, lie ob¬
tained the bishopric of Kilmore and Ardagh in Ireland ;
and finding these dioceses in great disorder, applied
himself vigorously to reform the abuses there. He
was no persecutor of Papists, but laboured with great
success to convert the better sort of the Popish clergy :
he procured an Irish translation of the Common Prayer
Book, which he caused to be read in his cathedral
every Sunday; and the New Testament having been
translated by Archbishop Daniel, he procured one of
the Old 1 estament; which he having been prevented
from printing himself, was afterwards executed at the
expence of the great Mr Robert Boyle. He published,
in 1624, a controversial book against the Roman Ca¬
tholics, which he dedicated to Charles prince of Wales;
and assisted the archbishop of Spalatro in finishing his
famous work De Republica Ecclesiasiica.—When the
bloody rebellion broke out in Ireland in Oct. 1641, the
bishop at first did not feel the violence of its effects ; for
the very rebels had conceived a great veneration for
him, and they declared he should be the last English¬
man they would drive out of Ireland. His was the
only house in the county of Cavan that was inviola-
ted, and it was filled with the people who lied to him
for shelter. About the middle of December, however,
the rebels, pursuant to orders received from their coun¬
cil of state at Kilkenny, required him to dismiss the
people that were with him ; which he refused to do,
declaring he would share the same fate with the rest.
Upon this, they seized him, his two sons, and Mr
Clogy who had married his daughter-in-law, and car¬
ried them prisoners to the castle of Cloughboughter, sur¬
rounded by a deep water, where they put them all, ex¬
cept the bishop, in irons ; after some time, however,
this part of their severity was abated. After being
confined for about three weeks, the bishop and his two
sons, and Mr Clogy, were exchanged for some of the
.principal rebels : but the bishop died soon after, on the
7th of February 1642, his death being chiefly occa¬
sioned by his late imprisonment, and the weight of sor¬
rows which lay upon his mind. The Irish did him un¬
usual honours at his burial; for the chief of the rebels
gathered their forces together, and with them accompa¬
nied his body to the church-yard.
BEDER, a strong town of Asia, in the dominions of
the Great Mogul. E. Long. 81. 10. N. Lat. 16. 50.
BEDFORD, the county town of Bedfordshire in
England, seated on both sides of the river Ouse, over
which there is a stone bridge ; in W. Long. o. 20. N.
Lat. 52. 6. It is an ancient town, and pleasantly si¬
tuated, but not very large nor well built, though the
buildings are much improved of late, and the river made
navigable. It sends two members to parliament, and
gives the title of duke to the noble family of Russel. At
this place the Britons were overthrown in a great bat¬
tle in 572, by Cuthwulf the Saxon king; and here was
a strong castle, built in the time of the Normans by
Pagan de Beauchamp, the third baron of Bedford.
It was reduced by King Stephen after a long siege ;
and afterwards taken by King John, after a siege of
60 days, from Fulco de Brent, who rebelled against his
sovereign, notwithstanding he had taken this castle be¬
fore from the barons, and had it bestowed upon him by
the king. The town is a very ancient corporation. The
number of inhabitants in 1811 was 460 c. The voters
VOL. III. Part II. f
S°5] BED
are said to be 1400. It is governed at present by a
mayor, recorder, two bailiffs, twelve aldermen, two
chamberlains, a town-clerk, and three serjeants. The
neighbouring country is very fruitful in wheat, great ^
quantities of which are carried from hence to Kitchen
and Hertford markets, sold, ground, and conveyed to
London. The town has five churches, a free school,
and several hospitals, and enjoys a good trade in corn
by the way of Lynn. When the river is swelled with
rains, especially in winter, it is usual in Cambridge¬
shire to say, the bailiff of Bedford is coming ; meaning
that it is going to lay their fens under water.
BEDFORDSHIRE, an inland county of England.
When the Romans landed in Britain, 55 years before
Christ, it was included in the district inhabited by the
Catieuchlani, whose chief or governor Cassibelinus head¬
ed the forces of the whole island against Caesar, and the
year following was totally defeated. In 310 the empe¬
ror Constantine divided Britain into five Roman pro¬
vinces, when this county was included in the third di¬
vision, called Flavia Ccesariensis} in which state it con¬
tinued 426 years, when the Romans quitted Britain.
At the establishment of the kingdom of Mercia (one
of the divisions of the Saxon heptarchy) it was consi¬
dered as part of that kingdom ; and so continued from
582 to 827, when with the other petty kingdoms of the
island it became subject to the West Saxons under Eg¬
bert, and the whole was named England. In 889, Al¬
fred held the sovereignty, when England was divided
into counties, hundreds, and tythings, and Bedfordshire
first received its present name. It is in the Norfolk cir¬
cuit, the province of Canterbury, and bishopric of Lin¬
coln. Its form is oval, being about 33 miles long, 16
broad, and nearly 73 in circumference ; containing an
area of 275,000, or according to others of 307,200 square
acres. It supplies 400 men to the national militia. It
contains 124 parishes, 58 vicarages, and II market-
towns, viz. Bedford, Ampthill, Biggleswade, Dunstable,
Leighton, Beaudesart, Luton, Potton, Shefford, Tud-
dington, and Woburn, and 55 villages. The total number
of inhabitants, in 1811, amounted to 70,2x3, and the
number of houses to 13,286, occupied by 14,927 families.
It is divided into nine hundreds, sends two members to
parliament, and pays seven parts of 513 of the land tax.
Its principal river, the Ouse, is navigable to Bedford ;
and divides the county into two parts, of which that to
the south is the most considerable. In its course, which
is very meandering, it receives several small streams ;
the principal one is the Ivel, which takes its rise in the
southern part of the county. The air is healthy, and the
soil in general a deep clay. The north side of the Ouse
is fruitful and woody, but the south side is less fertile:
yet producing great quantities of wheat and barley, ex¬
cellent in their kind, and woad for dyers. The soil
yields plenty of fullers earth for our woollen manufac¬
tory. The chief manufactures of the county are thread,
lace, and straw ware. In this county there are many
remains of Roman, Saxon, and Norman antiquities ;
and a few Roman stations, viz. Sandys near Potton, and
the Magiovinum of Antoninus, by others supposed to
be the ancient Salenae, containing 30 acres, where
many urns, coins, &c. have been dug up. Another at
Madining-bowre, or Maiden-bower, one mile from
Dunstable, containing about nine acres, which Camden
supposes to have been a Roman station, from coins
3 S of
Bedford,
Bedford¬
shire.
BED t 506 ] BED
Bedford- of the emperors having been frequently dug up there,
shire and calls it Magintum. Leighton Beaudesart is sup-
H posed to have been a Roman camp. There is another at
°U1IIS- Arlesey near Shefford $ and a Roman amphitheatre may
be traced near Bradford Magna. The Roman road,
Tcknield-street, crosses this county, entering at Leigh¬
ton Beaudesart, from whence it passes Dunstable, where
it inclines northward, over Wardon-hills, to Badlock in
Hertfordshire. The Watling-street enters this county
near Luton from St Albans, passes a little north of
Dunstable, where it crosses the Icknield-street, and
from thence to Stoney Stratford in Buckinghamshire.
A Roman x-oad also enters near Potton, passes on to
Sandy, and from thence to Bedford, where it crosses
the Ouse, and proceeds to Newport Pagnell in Buck¬
inghamshire. The following antiquities in this county
are worthy of notice : Bedford Bridge and Priory ;
Chicksand Abbey near Shefford j Dunstable Priory
near Luton ; Eaton Park House or Eaton Bray ; Five
Knolls near Dunstable j Newnham Priory near Bed¬
ford 5 Nortbill Church, three miles from Biggleswade j
Summeris Tower near Luton ; Warden Abbey near
Shefford ; Woburn Abbey. See Bedfordshire, Sup¬
plement.
BEDLOE, William, who assumed the title of
Captain, was an infamous adventurer of low birth, who
had travelled over a great part of Europe under differ¬
ent names and disguises, and had passed among several
ignorant persons for a man of rank and fortune. En¬
couraged by the success of Oates, he turned evidence,
gave an account of Godfrey’s murder, and added many
circumstances to the narrative of the former. These
villains had the boldness to accuse the queen of enter¬
ing into a conspiracy against the king’s life. A reward
of 500I. was voted to Bedloe by the commons. He is
said to have asserted the reality of the plot on his death¬
bed : but it abounds with absurdity, contradiction, and
perjury ; and still remains one of the greatest problems
in the British annals. He died at Bristol 20th August
1680. Giles Jacob informs us, that he was author of
a play called “ The Excommunicated Prince, or the
False Relict,” 1679. ^^ie Pr*nter °f it having, with¬
out the author’s knowledge, added a second title, and
called it “ The Popish Plot in a Play,” greatly ex¬
cited the curiosity of the public, who were, however,
much disapuointed when they found the plan of the
piece to be founded on a quite different story. Anthony
Wood will not allow the captain the merit of this
play } but asserts that it was written partly, if not en¬
tirely, by one Tho. Walter, M. A. of Jesus college,
Oxford.
BEDOUINS, or Bedouis, a modern name of the
wild Arabs, whether in Asia or Africa. When speak¬
ing of the Arabs, we should distinguisli whether they
are cultivators or pastors; for this difference in their
mode of life occasions so great a one in their manners
and genius, that they become almost foreign nations
with respect to each other. In the former case, lead¬
ing a sedentary life, attached to the same soil, and sub¬
ject to regular governments, the social state in which
they live, very nearly resembles our own. Such are
the inhabitants of Yemen 5 and such also are the de¬
scendants of those ancient conquerors who have either
entirely, or in part, given inhabitants to Syria, Egypt,
and the Barbary states. In the second instance, hav-
$
ing only a trans-ient interest in the soil, perpetually Ql(jau:
removing their tents from one place to another, and
under subjection to no laws, their mode of existence is
neither that of polished nations nor of savages ; and
therefore more particularly merits our attention. Such
are the Bedouins, or inhabitants of the vast deserts
which extend from the confines of Persia to Morocco.
Though divided into independent communities or tribes,
not unfrequently hostile to each other, they may still
be considered as forming one nation. The resemblance
of their language is a manifest token of this relation¬
ship. The only dift’erence that exists between them is,
that the African tribes are of a less ancient origin,
being posterior to the conquest of these countries by
the caliphs or successor’s of Mahomet; while the tribes
of the desert of Arabia, properly so called, have de¬
scended by an uninterrupted succession from the remo¬
test ages. To these the orientals are accustomed to
appropriate the name of Arabs, as being the most an¬
cient and the purest race. The term Bedaoui is added
as a synonymous expression, signifying, “ inhabitants
of the Desert.”
It is not without reason that the inhabitants of the
desert boast of being the purest and the best preserved
race of all the Arab tribes : for never have they been
conquered, nor have they mixed with any other people
by making conquests ; for those by which the general
name of Arabs has been rendered famous, really belong
only to the tribes of Hedjaz and Yemen. Those who
dwelt in the interior of the country never emigrated at
the time of the revolution effected by Mahomet ; or if
they did take any part in it, it was confined to a few
individuals, detached by motives of ambition. Thus
we find the prophet in his Khoran continually styling
the Arabs of the desert rebels and infidels ; nor has so
great a length of time produced any very considerable
change. We may assert they have in every respect
retained their primitive independence and simplicity.
See Arabia.
The wandering life of these people arises from the
very nature of their deserts. To paint to himself these
deserts (says M. Volney), the reader must imagine a
sky almost perpetually inflamed, and without clouds,
immense and boundless plains, without houses, trees,
rivulets, or hills, where the eye frequently meets no¬
thing but an extensive and uniform horizon like the
sea, though in some places the ground is uneven and
stony. Almost invariably naked on every side, the
earth presents nothing but a few wild plants thinly
scattered, and thickets, whose solitude is rarely distur¬
bed but by antelopes, hares, locusts, and rats. Such is
the nature of nearly the whole country, which extends
six hundred leagues in length and three hundred in
breadth, and stretches from Aleppo to the Arabian sea,
and from Egypt to the Persian gulf. It must not,
however, be imagined that the soil in so great an ex¬
tent is everywhere the same ; it varies considerably in
different places. On the frontiers of Syria, for exam¬
ple, the earth is in general fat and cultivable, nay even
fruitful. It is the same also on the banks of the Eu¬
phrates : but in the internal parts of the country, and
towards the south, it becomes white and chalky, as in
the parallel of Damascus j rocky, as in the Tib and the
Hedjaz 5 and a pure sand, as to the eastward of Ye¬
men. This variety in the qualities of the soil is pro¬
ductive
BED t 507 ] BED
•dooins. ductive of some minute differences in the condition of
-v-*—' the Bedouins. For instance, in the more sterile coun¬
tries, that is, those which produce but few plants, the
tribes are feeble and very distant: which is the case in
the desert of Suez, that of the lied sea, and the inte¬
rior of the great desert called the NajcL When the
soil is more fruitful, as between Damascus and the Eu¬
phrates, the tribes are more numerous and less remote
from each other; and, lastly, in the cultivable districts,
Such as the pachalics of Aleppo, the Hauran, and the
neighbourhood of Gaza, the camps are frequent and
contiguous. In the former instances, the Bedouins
are purely pastors, and subsist only on the produce of
their herds, and on a few dates and flesh meat, which
they eat either fresh, or dried in the sun and reduced to
a powder. In the latter, they sow some laud, and add
cheese, barley, and even rice, to their flesh and milk
meats.
In those districts where the soil is stony and sandy*
as in the Tib, the Hedjaz, and the Najd, the rains make
the seeds of the wild plants shoot, and revive the thick¬
ets, ranunculi, wormwood, and kali. They cause
marshes in the lower grounds, which produce reeds and
grass 5 and the plain assumes a tolerable degree of ver¬
dure. This is the season of abundance both for the
herds and their masters j but on the return of the
heats, every thing is parched up, and the earth, con¬
verted into a gray and fine dust, presents nothing but
dry stems as hard as wood, on which neither horses,
oxen, nor even goats can feed. In this state the de¬
sert would become uninhabitable, and must be totally
abandoned, had not nature formed an animal no less
hardy and frugal than the soil is sterile and ungrateful.
No creature seems so peculiarly fitted to the climate in
which it exists. Designing the camel to dwell in a
country where he can find little nourishment, Nature
.(says M. Volney) has been sparing of her materials in
the whole of his formation. She has not bestowed on
him the plump fleshiness of the ox, horse, or elephant;
hut limiting herself to what is strictly necessary, she
has given him a small head without ears, at the end of
a long neck without flesh. She has taken from his
legs and thighs every muscle not immediately requi¬
site for motion ; and in short, has bestowed on his
withered body only the vessels and tendons necessary
to connect its frame together. She has furnished him
with a strong jaw, that he may grind the hardest ali¬
ments ; but lest be should consume too much, she has
straitened his stomach, and obliged him to chew the
cud. She has lined his foot with a lump of flesh,
which sliding in the mud, and being no way adapted
to climbing, fits him only for a dry, level, and sandy
soil like that of Arabia : she has evidently destined him
likewise to slavery, bv refusing him every sort of de¬
fence against his enemies. Destitute of the horns of
the bull, the hoof of the horse, the tooth of the ele¬
phant, and the swiftness of the stag, how can the ca¬
mel resist or avoid the attacks of the lion, the tiger, or
even the wolf? To preserve the species, therefore, na¬
ture has concealed him in the depth of the vast deserts,
where the want of vegetables can attract no game, and
whence the want of game repels everv voracious ani¬
mal. Tyranny must have expelled man from the ha¬
bitable parts of the earth before the camel could have
lost his libertyi Become domestic, he has rendered
habitable the most barren soil the w’orld contains. He Bcdotiimr.
alone supplies all his master’s wants. The milk of the
camel nourishes the family of the Arab, under the va¬
ried forms of curd, cheese, and butter ; and they often
feed upon his flesh. Slippers and harness are made of
his skin, tents and clothing of his hair. Heavy burdens
are transported by his means : and when the earth de¬
nies forage to the horse, so valuable to the Bedouin, the
she camel supplies that deficiency by her milk, at no
other cost, for so many advantages, than a few stalks of
brambles or wormwood and pounded date kernels. So
great is the importance of the camel to the desert, that
were it deprived of that useful animal, it must infallibly
lose every inhabitant.
Such is the situation in which nature has placed the
Bedouins, to make of them a race of men equally sin¬
gular in their physical and moral character. This sin¬
gularity is so striking, that even their neighbours the
Syrians regard them as extraordinary beings :• especially
those tribes which dwell in the depth of the deserts,
such as the Anaza, Kaibar, Tai, and others, which
never approach the towns. When in the time of Shaik
Daher, some of their horsemen came as far as Acre,
they excited the same curiosity there as a visit from the
savages of America would among us. Every body
viewed with surprise these men, who were more dimi¬
nutive, meagre, and swarthy, than any of the known
Bedouins. Their withered legs were only composed of
tendons, and had no calves. Their bellies seemed to
cling to their backs, and their hair was frizzled almost
as much as that of the negroes. They on the other hand
were no less astonished at every thing they saw ; they
could neither conceive how the houses and minarets
could stand erect, nor how men ventured to dwell be¬
neath them, and always in the same spot ; but above
all, they were in an ecstacy on beholding the sea, nor
could they comprehend what that desert of water could
be.
We may imagine that the Arabs of the frontiers are
not such novices; there are even several small tribes of
them, who living in the midst of the country, as in the
valley of Bekaa, that of the Jordan, and in Palestine,
approach nearer to the condition of the peasants ; but
these are despised by the others, who look upon them as
bastard Arabs and Kayas, or slaves of the Turks.
In general, the Bedouins are small, meagre, and
tawny ; more so, however, in the heart of the desert
than on the frontiers of the cultivated country ; but
they are always of a darker hue than the neighbouring
peasants. They also differ among themselves in the
same camp ; and M. Volney remarked, that the shaiks,
that is, the rich, and their attendants, were always
taller and more corpulent than the common class.
He has seen some of them above five feet five and six
inches high ; though in general they do not (he says)
exceed five feet two inches. This difference can only
be attributed to their food, with which the former are
supplied more abundantly than the latter : And the ef¬
fects of this are equally evident in the Arabian and
Turcoman camels ; for these latter, dwelling in coun¬
tries rich in forage, are become a species more robust
and fleshy than the former. It may likewise be affirm¬
ed, that the lower class of Bedouins live in a state of
habitual wretchedness and famine. It will appear al¬
most incredible to us, but it is an undoubted fact, that
3 S 2 the
. V
BED [So8] BED
Bedouin*, the quantity of food usually consumed by the greatest
part of them does not exceed six ounces a-day. This
abstinence is most remarkable among the tribes of the
Najd and the Hedjaz. Six or seven dates soaked in
melted butter, a little sweet milk or curds, serve a
man a whole day ; and he esteems himself happy when
he can add a small quantity of coarse flour or a little
hall of rice. Meat is preserved for the greatest festi¬
vals : and they never kill a kid but for a marriage or
a funeral. A few wealthy and generous shaiks alone
can kill young camels, and eat baked rice with their
victuals. In times of dearth, the vulgar, always half
famished, do not disdain the most wretched kinds of
food $ and eat locusts, rats, lizards, and.serpents broil¬
ed on briars. Hence are they such plunderers of the
cultivated lands, and robbers on the high-roads : hence
also their delicate constitution and their diminutive
and meagre bodies, which are rather active than vi¬
gorous. It may be worth while to remark, that their
evacuations of every kind, even perspiration, are ex¬
tremely small j their blood is so destitute of serosity,
that nothing but the greatest heat can preserve its flui¬
dity. This, however, does not prevent them from be¬
ing tolerably healjhy in other respects ; for maladies are
less frequent among them than among the inhabitants
of the cultivated country.
From these facts we are by no means justified in
concluding that the frugality of the Bedouins is a vir¬
tue purely of choice, or even of climate. The ex¬
treme heat in which they live unquestionably facilitates
their abstinence, by destroying that activity which
cold gives to the stomach. Their being habituated
also to so sparing a diet, by hindering the dilatation
of the stomach, becomes doubtless a means of their
supporting such abstemiousness ; but the chief and pri¬
mary motive of this habit is with them, as with the
rest of mankind, the necessity of the circumstances in
which they are placed, whether from the nature of the
soil, as has been before explained, or that state of so¬
ciety in which they live, and which remains now to be
examined.
It has been already remarked, that the Bedouin
Arabs are divided into tribes, which constitute so
many distinct nations. Each of these tribes appro¬
priates to itself a tract of land forming its domain $ in
this they do not differ from cultivated nations, except
that their territory requires a greater extent, in or¬
der to furnish subsistence for their herds throughout
the year. Each tribe is collected in one or more
camps, which are dispersed through the country, and
which make a successive progress over the whole, in
proportion as it is exhausted by the cattle 5 hence it
is, that within a great extent a few spots only are in¬
habited, which vary from one day to another ; but as
the entire space is necessary for the annual subsistence
of the tribe, whoever encroaches on it is deemed a
violator of property ; this is with them the law of na¬
tions. If, therefore, a tribe, or any of its subjects,
enter upon a foreign territory, they are treated as ene¬
mies and robbers, and a war breaks out. Now, as all
the tribes have affinities with each other by alliances of
, blood or conventions, leagues are formed, which ren¬
der these wars more or less general. The manner of
proceeding on such occasions is very simple. The of¬
fence made known, they mount their horses and seek
2
the enemy : when they meet, they enter into a parley,
and the matter is frequently made up j if not, they at¬
tack either in small bodies, or man to man. They
encounter each other at full speed with fixed lances,
which they sometimes dart, notwithstanding their length,
at the flying enemy : the victory is rarely contested ; it
is decided by the first shock, and the vanquished take
to flight at full gallop over the naked plain of the
desert. Night generally favours their escape from the
conqueror. The tribe which has lost the battle strikes
its tents, removes to a distance by forced marches, and
seeks an asylum among its allies. The enemy, satisfied
with their success, drive their herds farther on, and
the fugitives soon after return to their former situation.
But the slaughter made in these engagements frequent¬
ly sows the seeds of hatreds which perpetuate these
dissensions. The interest of the common safety has
for ages established a law among them, which decrees
that the blood of every man who is slain must be
avenged by that of' his murderer. This vengeance is
called 2\ir, or retaliation j and the right of exacting
it devolves on the nearest of kin to the deceased. So
nice are the Arabs on this point of honour, that if
any one neglects to seek his retaliation he is disgraced
for ever. He therefore watches every opportunity of
revenge : if his enemy perishes from any other cause,
still he is not satisfied, and his vengeance is directed
against the nearest relation. These animosities are
transmitted as an inheritance from father to children,
and never cease but by the extinction of one of the
families, unless they agree to sacrifice the criminal, or
purchase the blood for a stated price, in money, or in
flocks. Without this satisfaction, there is neither peace,
nor truce, nor alliances, between them, nor sometimes
even between whole tribes : There is blood between iisy
say they on every occasion ; and this expression is an
insurmountable barrier. Such accidents being necessa¬
rily numerous in a long course of time, the greater part
of the tribes have ancient quarrels, and live in a habi¬
tual state of war ; which, added to their way of life,
renders the Bedouins a military people, though they have
made no great progress in war as an art.
Their camps are formed in a kind of irregular circle,
composed of a single row of tents, with greater or less
intervals. These tents, made of goat or camels hair,
are black or brown, in which they differ from those of
the Turcomans, which are white. They are stretched
on three or four pickets, only five or six feet high,
which gives them a very flat appearance ; at a distance,
one of these camps seems only like a number of black
spots : but the piercing eye of the Bedouin is not to
be deceived. Each tent inhabited by a family is di¬
vided by a curtain into two apartments, one of which
is appropriated to the women. The empty space
within the large circle serves to fold their cattle every
evening. They never have any intrenchments ; their
only advanced guards and patroles are dogs $ their
horses remain saddled and ready to mount on the first
alarm ; but as there is neither order nor regularity,
these camps, always easy to surprise, afford no defenc«
in case of an attack 5 accidents, therefore, very fre¬
quently happen, and cattle are carried off every day}
a species of marauding war in which the Arabs are very
experienced.
The tribes which live in the vicinity of the Turks
are
Eedouiisi
# E D [ 509 ] B E D
Bdouins. are still more accustomed to attacks and alarms; for
■—v—these strangers, arrogating to themselves, in right of
conquest, the property of the whole country, treat
the Arabs as rebel vassals, or as turbulent and danger¬
ous enemies. On this principle, they never cease to
wage secret or open war against them. The pachas
study every occasion to harass them. Sometimes they
-contest with them a territory which they had let them,
and at others demand a tribute which they never agreed
to pay. Should a family of shaiks be divided by in¬
terest or ambition, they alternately succour each party,
and conclude by the destruction of both. Frequently
too they poison or assassinate those chiefs whose cou¬
rage or abilities they dread, though they should even
be their allies. The Arabs, on their side, regarding
the Turks as usurpers and treacherous enemies, watch
every opportunity to do them injury. Unfortunately,
their vengeance falls oftener on the innocent than the
guilty. The harmless peasant generally suffers for the
offences of the soldier. On the slightest alarm, the
Arabs cut their harvests, carry off their flocks, and in¬
tercept their communication and commerce. The pea¬
sant calls them thieves, and with reason $ but the Be¬
douins claim the right of war, and perhaps they also
are not in the wrong. However this may be, these
depredations occasion a misunderstanding between the
Bedouins and the inhabitants of the cultivated country,
which renders them mutual enemies.
Such is the external situation of the Arabs. It is
subject to great vicissitudes, according to the good or
bad conduct of their chiefs. Sometimes a feeble tribe
raises and aggrandizes itself, whilst another, which was
powerful, falls into decay, or perhaps is entirely anni¬
hilated : not that all its members perish, but they in¬
corporate themselves with some other $ and this is the
consequence of the internal constitution of the tribes.
Each tribe is composed of one or more principal fa¬
milies, the members of which bear the title of shaiks,
i. e. chiefs or lords. These families have a great re¬
semblance to the patricians of Rome and the nobles of
modern Europe. One of the shaiks has the supreme
command over the others. He is the general of their
little army ; and sometimes assumes the title of emir,
which signifies commander and prince. The more
relations, children, and allies, he has, the greater is
his strength and power. To these he adds particular
adherents, whom he studiously attaches to him, by
supplying all their wants. But besides this, a number
of small families, who, not being strong enough to live
independent, stand in need of protection and alliances,
range themselves under the banners of this chief. Such
an union is called kabila, or tribe. These tribes are
distinguished from each other by the name of their re¬
spective chiefs, or by that of the ruling family ; and
when they speak of any of the individuals who com¬
pose them, they call them the children of such a chief,
though they may not be all really of his blood, and
he himself may have been long since dead. Thus they
say, Beni Temm, Oulad Tui, the children of Temin
and of Tai. This mode of expression is even applied,
by metaphor, to the names of countries : the usual
phrase for denoting its inhabitants being to call them
the children of such a place. Thus the Arabs say, Ou¬
lad Masr, the Egyptians ■, Oulad Sham, the Syrians j
they would also say, Oulad Fransa, the French j 0«-
lad Mouskou, the Russians j a remark which is not un- Bedouins,
important to ancient history. —v—„. .<
The government of this society is at once republi¬
can, aristocratical, and even despotic, without exactly
corresponding with any of these forms. It is republi¬
can, inasmuch as the people have a great influence in
all affairs, and as nothing can be transacted without
the consent of a majority. It is aristocratical, because
the families of the shaiks possess some of the preroga¬
tives which everywhere accompany power j and, lastly,
It is despotic, because the principal shaik has an indefi¬
nite and almost absolute authority, which, when he hap¬
pens to be a man of credit and influence, he may even
abuse ; but the state of these tribes confines even this
abuse to very narrow limits : for if a chief should com¬
mit an act of injustice j if, for example, he should kill
an Arab, it Would be almost impossible for him to
escape punishment 5 the resentment of the offended par¬
ty would pay no respect to his dignity 5 the law of re¬
taliation would be put in force ; and, should he not pay
the blood, he would be infallibly assassinated, which,
from the simple and private life the shaiks lead in their
camps, would be no difficult thing to effect. If he
harasses his subjects by severity, they abandon him and
go over to another tribe. His own relations take ad¬
vantage of his misconduct to depose him and advance
themselves to his station. He can have no resource in .
foreign troops:' his subjects communicate too easily with
each other to render it possible for him to divide their
interests and form a faction in his .favour. Besides, how
is he to pay them, since he receives no kind of taxes
from the tribe ; the wealth of the greater part of his
subjects being limited to absolute necessaries, and his
own confined to very moderate possessions, and those
too loaded with great expences ?
The principal shaik in every tribe, in fact, defrays
the charges of all who arrive at or leave the camp.
He receives the visits of the allies, and of every person
who has business with them. Adjoining to his tent
is a large pavilion for the reception of all strangers and
passengers. There are held frequent assemblies of the
shaiks and principal men, to determine on encampments
and removals $ on peace and war j on the differences
with the Turkish governors and the villages ; and the
litigations and quarrels of individuals. To this crowd,
which enters successively, he must give coffee, bread
baked on the ashes, rice, and sometimes roasted kid or
camel 5 in a word, he must keep open table ; and it is
the more important to him to be generous, as this ge¬
nerosity is closely connected with matters of the great¬
est consequence. On the exercise of this depend his
credit and his power. The famished Arab ranks the
liberality which feeds him before every virtue j nor is
this prejudice without foundation ; for experience has
proved that covetous chiefs never were men of enlarged
views : hence the proverb, as just as it is brief, A close
fist, a narrow heaj't. To provide for these expences,
the shaik has nothing but his herds, a few spots of
cultivated ground, the profits of his plunder, and the
tribute he levies on the high-roads j the total of which
is very inconsiderable. The shaik with whom M. Vol-
ney resided in the country of Gaza, about the end of
1784, passed for one of the most powerful of those
districts •, yet it did not appear to our author that his
expenditure was greater than that of an opulent farmer.
BED t 5
Bedouins. His personal effects, consisting of a few pelisses, carpets,
arms, horses, anti camels, could not be estimated at more
than 50,000 livres (a little above 2000!.) j and it must
be observed, that in this calculation four mares of the
breed of racers are valued at 6000 livres (2501.)} and
each camel at xol. sterling. We must not therefore,
when we speak of the Bedouins, affix to the words
Prince and Lord the ideas they usually convey 5 we
should come nearer to the truth by comparing them to
substantial farmers in mountainous countries^ whose sim¬
plicity they resemble in their dress as well as in their
domestic life and manners. A shaik who has the com¬
mand of 500 horse does not disdain to saddle and bridle
his own, nor to give him barley and chopped straw. In
his tent, his wife makes the coffee, kneads the dough,
and superintends the dressing of the victuals. His daugh¬
ters and kinswomen wash the linen, and go with pitchers
on their head and veils over their faces to draw water
from the fountain. These manners agree precisely with
the descriptions in Homer and the history of Abraham
in Genesis. But it must be owned that it is difficult to
form a just idea of them without having ourselves been
eye witnesses.
The simplicity, or perhaps more properly the poverty,
of the lower class of the Bedouins is proportionate to
that of their chiefs. All the wealth of a family consists
of moveables ; of which the following is a pretty exact
inventory; a few male and female camels ; some goats
and poultry ; a mare and her bridle and saddle ; a tent;
a lance 1 6 feet long ; a crooked sabre ; a rusty musket,
with a flint and matchlock ; a pipe ; a portable mill ; a
pot for cooking; a leathern bucket ; a small coffee
Voaster ; a mat; some clothes ; a mantle of black wool:
and a few glass or silver rings, which the women wear
upon their legs and arms. If none of these are wanting,
their furniture is complete. But what the poor man
stands most in need of, and what he takes most pleasure
in, is his mare ; for this animal is his principal support.
With his mare the Bedouin makes his excursions against
hostile tribes, or seeks plunder in the country and on the
highways. The mare is preferred to the horse, because
she is more docile, and yields milk, which on occasion
satisfies the thirst and even the hunger of her master.
Thus confined to the most absolute necessities of life,
the Arabs have as little industry as their wants are few ;
all their arts consist in weaving their clumsy tents and
in making mats and butter. Their whole commerce
only extends to the exchanging camels, kids, stallions,
and milk ; for arms, clothing, a little rice or corn, and
money, which they bury. They are totally ignorant
of all science ; and have not even any idea of astro¬
nomy, geometry, or medicine. They have not a single
book ; and nothing is so uncommon among the shaiks
as to know how to read. All their literature consists
in reciting tales and histories in the manner of the Ara¬
bian Nights Entertainments. They have a peculiar
passion for such stories, and employ in them almost all
their leisure, of which they have a great deal. In the
evening they seat themselves on the ground, at the
threshold of their tents, or under cover, if it be cold ;
and there, ranged in a circle round a little fire of dung,
their pipes in their mouths, and their legs crossed, they
sit a while in silent meditation, till on a sudden one of
them breaks forth with Once upon a time,—and con¬
tinues to recite the adventures of some young shaik
O ] BED
and female Bedouin ; he relates in what manner the Bcdoiiiy.
youth first got a secret glimpse of his mistress; and how t ^
he became desperately enamoured of her: he minutely
describes the lovely fair; boasts her black eyes, as lai'ge
and soft as those of the gazelle ; her languid and em-
passioned looks; her arched eyebrows, resembling two
bows of ebony ; her waist straight and supple as a lance:
he forgets not her steps, light as those of the young jU-
ley i nor her eyelashes, blackened with kohl; nor her
lips painted blue; nor her nails, tinged with the gold¬
en-coloured henna; nor her breasts resembling two
pomegranates ; nor her words sweet as honey. He re¬
counts the sufferings of the young lover, so wanted with
desire and passion, that his body no longer yields any sha¬
dow. At length, after detailing his various attempts
to see his mistress, the obstacles of the parents, the inva¬
sions of the enemy, the captivity of the two lovers,
he terminates to the satisfaction of the audience, by re¬
storing them, united and happy, to the paternal tent,
and by receiving the tribute paid to his eloquence, in
the Ma cha allah (an exclamation of praise, equivalent
to admirably well!) he has merited. The Bedouins
have likewise their love songs, which have more senti¬
ment and nature in them than those of the Turks and
inhabitants of the towns ; doubtless, because the former,,
whose manners are chaste, know what love is : while
the latter, abandoned to debauchery, are acquainted on¬
ly with enjoyment.
When we consider how much the condition of the
Bedouins, especially in the depths of the desert, resem¬
bles in many respects that of the savages of America,
we shall be inclined to wonder why they have not the
same ferocity ; why, though they so often experience
the extremity of hunger, the practice of devouring hu¬
man flesh was never heard of among them ; and why, in
short, their manners are so much more sociable and mild.
The following reasons are proposed by M. Volney as
the true solution of this difficulty.
It seems at first view (he observes), that America,
being rich in pasturage, lakes, and forests, is more!
adapted to the pastoral mode of life than to any other.
But if we consider that these forests, by affording an
easy refuge to animals, piotect them more surely from
the power of man, we may conclude that the savage
has been induced to become a hunter instead of a shep¬
herd, by the nature of the country. In this state, all
his habits have concurred to give him a ferocity of cha¬
racter. I he great fatigues of the chase have hardened
his body; frequent and extreme hunger, followed by a
sudden abundance of game, has rendered him voracious.
The habit of shedding blood, and tearing his prey, has
familiarized him to the sight of death and sufferings.
Tormented by hunger, he has desired flesh; and finding
it easy to obtain that of his fellow-creature, he could
not long hesitate to kill him to satisfy the cravings of
his appetite. The first experiment made, this cruelty
degenerates into a habit; he becomes a cannibal, san¬
guinary and atrocious ; and his mind acquires all the
insensibility of his body.
The situation of the Arab is very different. Amid
his vast naked plains, without water and without fo¬
rests, he has not been able, for want of game or fish, to
become either a hunter or a fisherman. The camel
has determined him to a pastoral life, the manners of
which have influenced his whole character. Finding
at
bed [ 5II
B<douIns. a ligSit, but constant and sufficient nourishment,
i—v 1 he has acquired the habit of frugality. Content with
his milk and his dates, he has not desired flesh *, he has
shed no blood : his hands are not accustomed to slaugh¬
ter, nor his ears to the cries of suffering creatures j he
has preserved a humane and sensible heart.
No sooner did the savage shepherd become acquaint¬
ed with the use of the horse, than his manner of life was
considerably changed. The facility of passing rapidly
over extensive tracts of country, rendered him a wan¬
derer. He was greedy from want, and became a robber
from greediness j and such is in fact his present character.
A plunderer, rather than a warrior, the Arab possesses
no sanguinary courage; he attacks only to despoil j and
if he meets with resistance, never thinks a small booty
is to be put in competition with his life. To irritate
him you must shed his blood j in which case he is found
to be as obstinate in his vengeance as he was cautious
in avoiding danger.
I he Bedouins have often been reproached with this
spirit of rapine j but without wishing to defend it, we
may observe that one circumstance has not been suffi¬
ciently attended to, which is, that it only takes place
towards reputed enemies, and is consequently founded
on the acknowledged laws of almost all nations. A-
mong themselves they are remarkable for a good faith,
a disinterestedness, a generosity, which would do ho¬
nour to the most civilized people. What is there more
noble than that right of asylum so respected among
all the tribes ? A stranger, nay even an enemy, touches
the tent of the Bedouin, and from that instant his per¬
son becomes inviolable. It would be reckoned a dis¬
graceful meanness, an indelible shame, to satisfy even a
just vengeance at the expence of hospitality. Has the
Bedouin consented to eat bread and salt with his guest,
nothing in the world can induce him to bttray him.
The power of the sultan himself would not be able to
force a refugee from the protection of a tribe, but by its
total extermination. The Bedouin, so rapacious with¬
out his camp, has no sooner set his foot within it, than
he becomes liberal and generous. What little he pos¬
sesses he is ever ready to divide. He has even the deli¬
cacy not to wait till it is asked : when he takes his re¬
past, he affects to seat himself at the door of his tent,
in order to invite the passengers: his generosity is so
sincere, that he does not look upon it as a merit, but
merely as a duty ; and he therefore readily takes the
same liberty with others. To observe the manner in
which the Arabs conduct themselves towards each other,
one would imagine that they possessed all their goods in
common. Nevertheless they are no strangers to pro¬
perty j but it has none of that selfishness which the
increase of the imaginary wants of luxury has given it
among polished nations. Deprived of a multitude of
enjoyments which nature has lavished upon other coun¬
tries, they are less exposed to temptations which might
corrupt and debase them. It is more difficult for their
shaiks to form a faction to enslave and impoverish the
body of the nation. Each individual, capable of sup¬
plying all bis wants, is better able to preserve his cha¬
racter and independence j and private property becomes
at once the foundation and bulwark of public liber-
ty.
This liberty extends even to matters of religion.
WA.observe a remarkable difference between the Arabs
]
BEE
of the towns and those of the desert; since, while the JJedouins
former crouch under the double yoke of political and }|
religious despotism, the latter live in a state of perfect
freedom from both : it is true, that on the frontiers of *
the Turks, the Bedouins, from policy, preserve the
appearance of Mahometanism ; but so relaxed is their
observance of its ceremonies, and so little fervour has
their devotion, that they are generally considered as
infidels, who have neither law nor prophets. They
even make no difficulty in saying that the religion of
Mahomet was not made for them : “ For (add they)
how shall we make ablutions who have no water? How
can we bestow alms who are not rich ? Why should we
fast in the Ramadan, since the whole year with us is
one continual fast ? and what necessity is there for us
to make the pilgrimage to Mecca, if God be present
everywhere ?” In short, every man acts and thinks as
he pleases, and the most perfect toleration is established
among them.
BEDRIACUM, in Ancient Geography, a village of
Italy, situated, according to Tacitus, between Vero--
na and Cremona, hut nearer the latter than the for¬
mer. For the account given by that historian, Clu-
verius conjectures that the ancient Bedriacum stood in
the place where the city of Caneto now stands. This
village was remarkable for the defeat of the emperor
Galba by Otho, and afterwards of Otho by Vitel-
lius.
BED WIN Magna, a village five miles south of
Hungerford in Berkshire in England. It has neither
market nor fairj but is a borough by prescription,,
and sends two members to parliament. It is said to
have been a considerable place in the time of the Sax¬
ons, and that the traces of its fortifications are still ex¬
tant.
BEE, in Natural History, a genus of insects, for
the chararcters and classification of which see Apis,
Entomology Index. The mellifica, or domestic ho¬
ney bee, its history and economy, form the subject of
this article. j
This species is furnished with downy hairs ; has a Description
dusky coloured breast, and brownish belly: the tibiEeof tbe ho¬
of the hind legs are ciliated, and transversely streaked ne^’')ce*
on the inside. Each foot terminates in two hooks,
with their points opposite to each other 5 in the middle
of these hooks there is a little thin appendix, which,
when unfolded, enables the insects to fasten themselves
to glass or the most polished bodies. This part they
likewise employ for transmitting the small particles of
crude wax, which they find upon flowers, to the cavity
in their thigh, hereafter described. The queen and
drones, who never collect wax in this manner, have no
such cavity. This species is also furnished with a pro¬
boscis or trunk, which serves to extract the honey from
flo wers j and has, besides, a real mouth situated in
the fore part of the head, with which it is able to feed
on the farina of flowers, from which afterwards is
made wax. The belly is divided into six rings or
joints ; which sometimes shorten the body, by slipping
the one over the other. In the inside of the belly
there is a small bladder or reservoir, in which the ho¬
ney is collected, after having passed through the pro¬
boscis and a narrow pipe which runs through the head ;
and breast. This bladder, when full of honey, is about
the size of a small pea..
The.
' 'Bee.
*
Its stinS'.
* See FAin-
burgh Me¬
dical Com •
mentaries,
•voJ. iv.
P- 352*
BEE [ 512 ] BEE
The sting, which is situated at the extremity of the
belly, is a very curious weapon ; and, when examined
by tbe microscope, appears of a surprising structure.
It has a horny sheath or scabbard, which includes two
bearded darts. This sheath ends in a sharp point, near
the extremity of which a slit opens, through which, at
the time of stinging, the two bearded darts are pro¬
truded beyond the end of the sheath: one of these is
a little longer than the other, and fixes its beard first :
and the other instantly following, they penetrate alter¬
nately deeper and deeper, taking hold of the flesh with
their beards or hooks, till the whole sting is buried
in the flesh j and then a venomous juice is injected
through the same sheath, from a little bag at the root
of the sting. Hence the wound occasions an acute pain
and swelling of the part, which sometimes continues se¬
veral days. These effects are best remedied by enlar¬
ging the wound directly to give it some discharge.
This poison seems to owe its mischievous efficacy to
certain pungent salts. Let a bee be provoked to strike
its sting against a plate of glass, and there will be a drop
of the poison discharged and left upon the glass. This
being placed under a double microscope, as the liquor
evaporates, the salts will be seen to concrete, forming
oblong, pointed, clear crystals.—Mr Derham counted
on the sting of a wasp eight beards on the side of each
dart, somewhat like the beards of fish-hooks ; and the
same number is to be counted on the darts of the bee’s
sting. When these beards are struck deep in the flesh,
if the wounded person starts, or discomposes the bee
before it can disengage them, the sting is left behind
sticking in the wound: but if he hav* patience to
stand quiet, the creature brings the hooks down close
to the sides of the darts, and withdraws the weapon :
in which case, the wound is always much less painful.
The danger of being stung by bees may be in a great
measure prevented by a quiet composed behaviour. A
thousand bees will fly and buzz about a person without
hurting him, if he stand perfectly still, and forbear
disturbing them even when near his face 5 in which
case he may observe them for hours together without
danger; but if he molests or beats them away, he usu¬
ally suffers for it. It has been lately affirmed*, that
a person is in perfect safety in the midst of myriads of
bees, if he but carefully keep his mouth shut, and
breathe gently through the nostrils only j the human
breath, it would seem, being peculiarly offensive to
their delicate organs: and merely with this precau¬
tion, it is said, the very hives may be turned up, and
even part of the comb cut out, while the bees are at
work.
I. Economy, Instincts, &c. of the Honey-Bee.
We may consider a hive of bees as a well-peopled
city, in which are commonly found from 15,000 to
18,000 inhabitants. This city is in itself a monar¬
chy $—composed of a queen; of males which are the
drones; and of working bees, which have been suppo¬
sed and called neuters. The combs, which are of pure
wax, serve as their magazine of stores, and for tbe
nursing places of their young offspring. There is be¬
tween the combs a space sufficient for two bees to march
abreast, without embarrassing each other j and in some
parts it is more spacious. There are also holes, or nar¬
row passes, which cross the combs transversely, and are
intended to shorten the way when the bees pass from Efe
one comb to another. ' 
The Queen is easily distinguished from the other 3
bees by tbe form of her body : she is longer and lar- ^ue,a
ger than they are, and her Avings are much shorter than
theirs in proportion to her body ; for the wings of the
other bees cover their whole body, wlrereas those of
tbe queen hardly reach beyond her middle, or end at
about the third ring of her belly. Her hinder parts are
more taper than those of the other bees, terminating
sharper. Her belly and legs are of a deep yellow, much
resembling the purest gold. She is unwieldy in her
flight, a reason for her seldom flying but when she leaves
the parent-hive to go and settle a colony. All the bees
form her retinue, and like dutiful subjects repair to the
place she chooses. She is armed with a vigorous sting.
Less passionate however than her subjects, she only uses
her sting when long provoked, or when in contest for
imperial sway. Never more than one remains in a hive,
and that is the conqueror. 4
A hive of bees cannot subsist without a queen, as she Attach-
alone produces their numerous posterity, and on this jj16111 ot
account their fidelity and attachment to their sovereign
are admirable. V.
Mr Wlldman, by his dexterity in the management of Mi Wild-
bees, some years ago, surprised the whole kingdom. He maB S
can cause a swarm to light where he pleases, almost in-^t^MS
stantaneously ; he can order them to settle on his head,qUeen>
then remove them to his hand ; command them to de¬
part and settle on a window, table, &c. at pleasure. We
shall subjoin his method of performing these feats in
his own words:
“ Long experience has taught me, that as soon as I
turn up a hive, and give it some taps on the sides and
bottom, the queen immediately appears, to know the •
cause of this alarm, but soon retires again among her
people. Being accustomed to see her so often, I rea¬
dily perceive her at first glance j and long practice has
enabled me to seize her instantly, with a tenderness
that does not in the least endanger her person. This is
of the utmost importance; for the least injury done to
her brings immediate destruction to the hive, if you
have not a spare queen to put in her place, as I have
too often experienced in my first attempt^. When
possessed of her, I can without injury to her, or excit¬
ing that degree of resentment that might tempt her to
sting me, slip her into my other hand, and, returning
the hive to its place, hold her there, till the bees mis¬
sing her, are all on wing, and in the utmost confusion.
When the bees are thus distressed, I place the queen
wdierever I would have the bees to settle. The mo¬
ment a few of them discover her, they give notice to
those near them, and those to the rest $ the knowledge
of which soon becomes so general, that in a few mi¬
nutes they all collect themselves round her j and are
so happy in having recovered this sole support of their
state, that they will long remain quiet in their situa¬
tion. Nay, the scent of her body is so attractive of
them, that the slightest touch of her, along any place
or substance, will attach the bees to it, and induce
them to pursue any path she takes.” This was the
only witchcraft used by Mr Wildman, and is that alone
which is practised by others who have since made simi¬
lar exhibitions. In short, seize on the queen, and you
are
BEE [ S‘3 ] BEE
Bee are sure of leading all the hees of a hive to any place
you please.
6 When a queen dies by an accident, the bees of her
tnsequen-hive immediately cease working, consume their own
atlf &c honey> % ab°ut their own and other hives at unusual
' hours when other bees are at rest, and pine away if
not soon supplied with another sovereign. Her loss is
proclaimed by a clear and interrupted humming. This
sign should be a warning to the owner of the bees, to
take what honey remains in the hive, or to procure
them another queen. In this last case the flock in¬
stantly revives j pleasure and activity are apparent
through the whole hive ; the presence of the sovereign
restores vigour and exertion, and her voice commands
universal respect and obedience : of such importance is
the queen to the existence and prosperity of the other
members of this community.
The dissection of the queen-bee shews evidently that
she lays many thousand eggs. It is computed that the
ovaria of a queen-bee contain more than 5000 eggs at
one time ; and therefore it is not difficult to conceive
that a queen-bee may produce 10,000 or 12,000 bees,
7 or even more, in the space of two months.
The common Drones are smaller than the queen,
fles' and larger than the working bees 5 and in flying they
make a greater noise. The dissection of the drone
gives as great proof of its being the male, as that of
the queen does of her being female. In this creature
there is no appearance of ovaries or eggs, nor any thing
of the structure of the common working bees, but the
whole abdomen is filled with transparent vessels, wind¬
ing about in various sinuosities, and containing a white
or milky fluid. This is plainly analogous to that fluid
in the males of other animals, which is destined to ren¬
der the eggs of the female prolific : and this whole ap¬
paratus of vessels, which much resembles the turnings
and windings ot the seminal vessels in other animals, is
plainly intended only tor the preparation and retention
ot this matter, till the destined time of its being emit¬
ted. On squeezing the hinder parts also, may be for¬
ced out the penis, a small and slender fleshy body, con¬
tained between two horns of a somewhat harder sub¬
stance, which join at their base, but gradually part
asunder as they are continued in length. These parts,
found in all the drones, and none of them in any other
bees except these, seem to prove very evidently the
diflerence of sex. If a hive is opened in the beginning
of spring, not a single drone will be found in it; from
the middle of May till the end of June, hundreds of
them will be found, commonly from 200 or 300 to
IOOO ; and from thence to the following spring it
would be in vain to seek for them. They go not out
till XI in the morning, and return before six in the
evening. But their expeditions are not those of in¬
dustry. They have no sting, their rostrum and feet
are not adapted for collecting wax and honey, nor in¬
deed are they obliged to labour. They only hover
upon flowers to extract the srveets, and all their
thoughts are pleasure. Their office is, to impregnate
the eggs of the queen after they are deposited in the
cells. And while their presence is thus necessary,
they are suffered to enjoy the sweets of love and life ;
but as soon as they become useless in the hive, the
working bees declare the most cruel war against them,
Vol. III. Part II. f
and make terrible slaughter of them. This war aflfects Bee.
not only the bees already in life, but even the eggs 1 v~—
and maggots ; for the law which has pronounced the
destruction of the males has no exception, it extends
equally to those which do not yet breathe and to those
which do ; the hive is cleared of every egg, maggot,
or nymph ; the whole is torn away and carried off.
After the season proper for increasing the number of
bees is past, and when they should attend only to the
supplying of their magazines sufficiently with winter
stores, every vestige of the drones is destroyed, to make
room for honey. Whenever these drones are observed
to remain in a hive late in the autumn, it is held to be
a bad sign of the state of the hive.
But besides these larger drones, Maraldi and Reau¬
mur had long ago discovered that there were others of
a lesser size, not exceeding that of the common work¬
ing bees. This fact, however, was not fully ascertained
before the late experiments of Mr Debraw, to be af¬
terwards mentioned. It is well known, as has been
already noticed, that the large drones never appear in
the hive before the middle of April; that they are all
dead before the end of August, when the principal
breeding season terminates ; and that they are destroy¬
ed, together with all their worms or nymphs, by the
working bees, probably by order of the queen, to save
honey: yet it is equally certain, that the bees begin
to breed early in the spring, sometimes in February, if
the weather is mild ; and that many broods are com¬
pleted before these drones appear. But if drones of a
smaller size are suffered to remain, which in a time of
scarcity consume less honey than the others, these will "
answer the purpose of supplying the early broods, and
the larger drones are produced against a time of greater
plenty. Some observers affirm, that the smaller drones
are all dead before the end of May, when the larger
species appear and supersede their use. These circum¬
stances accord with the suggestion of Abbe le Pluche
in his Spectacle de la Nature, That a small number of
drones are reserved to supply the necessities of the en¬
suing year ; and that these drones are very little, if at
all, larger than the common bees.
The Working Bees compose the greatest body °fip],e ^TOr|£<
the state. Columella informs us, that the ancientsing bees,
distinguished several kinds of them. He joins in opi¬
nion with Virgil, who approves of those which are
small, oblong, smooth, bright, and shining, of a gentle
and mild disposition : “ for,” continues he, “ by how
much the larger and rounder the bee is, by so much
the worse it is : but if it be fierce and cruel, it is the
worst of all. The angry disposition of bees of a better
character is easily softened by the frequent intercourse
of those who take care of them, for they grow more
tame when they are often handled.” The experience
of ages has now established the sort of bees which have
been found to answer best the purposes of keeping
them.
The working bees have the care of the hive, collect
the wax and honey, fabricate and work up the wax,
build the cells, feed the young, keep the hive clean,
drive from thence strangers, and employ themselves in
all other concerns relating to the hive.
The working bee has two stomachs ; one which con¬
tains the honey, and a second in which is contained the
3 T crude
BEE
[ 5
Bee.
9
Of their
battles.
19
Their la-
bUNt'S.
crude wax. The working bees have no parts analo-
1 gous to the ovavia of the queen, or that resemble the
male organs of the drones. Hence they have generally
been supposed to be neutral or of neither sex. But a
different doctrine has lately been established j which
there will be occasion to notice in the sequel.
The sting is very necessary for a working bee, both
as an offensive and as a defensive weapon : for their ho¬
ney and wax excite the envy of many greedy and lazy
insects ; and they have also to defend themselves against
enemies who are fonder of eating them than their honey.
There is likewise a time when the drones must be sacri¬
ficed and exterminated for the good of the society 5 and
as they are larger and stronger than the working bees,
these last would have a very unequal match, were it not
for this poisonous sting.
There happen also among bees, either of the same
or of different hives, most deadly feuds, in which their
stings are their chief weapons. In these contests, great
skill maybe discerned in their manner of pointing the
sting between the scaly rings which cover their bodies,
or to some other easily vulnerable part. The bee which
first gains the advantage remains the conqueror j though
the victory costs the victor his life, if he has left his
sting in the body of the enemy j for, with the sting, so
much of his body is torn out, that death inevitably
follows. Bees have very severe conflicts when whole
hives engage in a pitched battle, and many are slain on
both sides. Their fighting and plundering one another
ought chiefly to be imputed, as Mr Thorley observes,
either to their perfect abhorrence of sloth and idleness,
or to their insatiable thirst for honey j for when, in
spring or autumn, the weather is fair, but no honey
can be collected from plants, and is to be found only
in the hives of other bees, they will venture their lives
to get it there.
Dr Warder assigns another cause of their fighting $
which is, the necessity that the bees are reduced to when
their own hive has been plundered, at a season when it
is too late for them to I’epair the loss by any industry in
the fields.
Sometimes one of the queens is killed in battle. In
this case, the bees of both hives unite as soon as her
death is generally known among them. All then be¬
come one people $ the vanquished go off with the rob¬
bers, richly laden with their own spoils, and return
every day with their new associates to pillage their old
habitation. This causes a throng, unusual for the sea¬
son, at the door of the hive they are plundering j and
if the owner lifts it up at night, when all are gone
home, he will find it empty of inhabitants ; though
there perhaps will remain in it some honey, which he
takes as his property.
"When two swarms take flight at the same time, they
sometimes quarrel, and great numbers are destroyed on
both sides, till one of the queens is slain. This ends the
contest, and the bees of both sides unite under the sur¬
viving sovereign.
When the bees begin to work in their hives, they
divide themselves into four companies j one of which
roves in the fields in search of materials ^ another em¬
ploys itself in laying out the bottom anti partitions of
their cells ; a third is employed in making the inside
smooth from the corners and angles ; and the fourth
company brings food for the rest, or relieves those who
14 ] BEE
return with their respective burdens. But they are not
kept constant to one employment •, they often change-y-
the tasks assigned them $ those that have been at work
being permitted to go abroad, and those that have
been in the fields already take their places. They
seem even to have signs, by which they understand each
other j for when any of them wants food, it bends down
its trunk to the bee from whom it is expected, which
then opens its honey-bag, and lets some drops fall into
the other’s mouth, which is at that time opened to re¬
ceive it. Their diligence and labour are so great, that
in a day’s time, they are able to make cells which lie
upon each other numerous enough to contain 3000
bees.
In the plan and formation of these cells they disco-
ver a most wonderful sagacity. In constructing habita-
tions within a limited compass, an architect would have
three objects in view : first, to use the smallest quantity
that can be of materials j next, to give to the edifice
the greatest capacity in a determined space; and third¬
ly, to employ the spot in such a manner that none of
it may be lost. On examination it would be found
that the bees have obtained all these advantages in the
hexagonal form of their cells : for, first, there is an eco¬
nomy of wax, as the circumference of one cell makes
part of the circumferences of those contiguous to it;
secondly, the economy of the spot, as these cells which
join to one another leave no void between them ; and
thirdly, the greatest capacity or space; as, of all the
figures which can be contiguous, that with six sides
gives the largest area. This thriftiness prompts them
to make the partitions of their cells thin ; yet they are
constructed so as that the solidity may compensate for
the scantiness of materials. The parts most liable to
injury are the entrance of the cells. These the bees
take care to strengthen, by adding quite round the cir¬
cumference of the apertures a fillet of wax, by which
means this mouth is three or four times thicker than
the sides : and they are strengthened at the bottom by
the angle formed by the bottom of three cells falling
in the middle of an opposite cell. The combs lie pa¬
rallel to each other; and there is left between every
one of them a space which serves as a street, broad
enough for two bees to pass by each other. There are.
holes which go quite through the combs, and serve as
lanes for the bees to pass from one comb to another,
without being obliged to go a great way about. When
they begin their combs, they form at the top of the
hive a root or stay to the whole edifice, which is to
hang from it. Though they generally lay the founda¬
tions of the combs so that there shall be no more be¬
tween them than what is sufficient for two bees to pass,
yet they sometimes place those beginnings of two combs
too far asunder; and, in this case, in order to fill up
part of the void space arising from that bad disposition,
they carry their combs on obliquely, to make them
gradually approach each other. This void space is
sometimes so considerable, that the bees build in it an
intermediate comb, which they terminate as soon as
the original combs have only their due distances. As
the combs would be apt, when full, to overcome by
their weight all the security which the bees can give
them against falling, they who prepare hives set in
them, crosswise, sticks, which serve as props to the
combs, and save the bees a great deal of labour. It is
not
BEE [ s
flee not easy to discover the particular manner of their
—v—' working ; for, notwithstanding the many contrivances
used for this purpose, there are such numbers in conti¬
nual motion, and succeed one another with such rapi¬
dity, that nothing but confusion appears to the sight.
Some of them, however, have been observed carrying
pieces of wax in their talons, and running to the places
where they are at work upon the combs. These they
fasten to the work by means of the same talons. Each
bee is employed but a very short time in this way: but
there is so great a number of them that go on in a con¬
stant succession, that the comb increases very percepti¬
bly. Besides these, there are others that run about
beating the work with their wings and the hinder part
of their body, probably with a view to make it more
firm and solid.
Whilst part of the bees are occupied in forming the
cells, others are employed in perfecting and polishing
those that are new modelled. This operation is per¬
formed by their talons, taking off every thing that is
rough and uneven. These polishers are not so desultory
in their operations as those that make the cells ; they
work long and diligently, never intermitting their la¬
bour, excepting to carry out of tire cell the particles of
wax which they take off in polishing. These particles
are not allowed to be lost j others are ready to receive
them from the polishers, and to employ them in some
n other part of the work.
their The balls which we see attached to the legs of bees
Ming- returning to the hives are not wax, but a powder col-
terials lecte(i from the stamina of flowers, not yet brought to
p provi- tjie sj.aj.e waXi The substance of these balls, heated
Wax. i’1 any vessel, does not melt as wax would do, but be¬
comes dry, and hardens: it may even be reduced to a
coal. If thrown into water, it will sink $ whereas wax
swims. To reduce this crude substance into wax, it
must first be digested in the body of the bee.
Every bee, when it leaves the hive to collect this
precious store, enters into the cnp of the flower, par¬
ticularly such as seem charged with the greatest quantity
of this yellow farina. As the animal’s body is covered
over with hair, it rolls itself within the flower, and
quickly becomes quite covered with the dust, which it
soon after brushes off with its two hind legs, and kneads
into two little balls. In the thighs of the hind legs
there are two cavities, edged with hair ; and into these,
as into a basket, the animal sticks its pellets. Thus
employed, the bee flits from flower to flower, increasing
its store, and adding to its stock of wax, until the ball
upon each thigh becomes as big as a grain of pepper;
by this time having got a sufficient load, it returns,
making the best of its way to the hive.
After the bees have brought home this crude sub¬
stance, they eat it by degrees j or at other times,
three or four bees come and ease the loaded bee, by
eating each of them a share, the loaded bee giving them
a hint so to do. Hunger is not the motive of their
thus eating the balls of waxy matter, especially when a
swarm is first hived ; but it is their desire to provide a
speedy supply of real wax for making the combs. At
other times, when there is no immediate want of wax,
the bees lay this matter up in repositories, to keep it
in store.
When this waxy matter is swallowed, it is, by the
5 ] BEE
digestive powers of the bee, converted into real wax, Bee*
which the bees again disgorge as they work it up into v——y—**
combs j for it is only while thus soft and pliant from the
stomach that they can fabricate it properly. That the
wax thus employed is taken from their stomachs, ap¬
pears from their making a considerable quantity of comb
soon after they are hived, and even on any tree or shrub
where they have rested but a short while before their
being hived, though no balls were visible on their legs,
excepting those of a few which maybe just returned
from the field. This is farther confirmed by what hap¬
pened in a swarm newly hived : for two days together
from the time of their quitting their former home, it
rained constantly, insomuch that not one bee was able
to stir out during that time ; yet at the end of the two
days they had made a comb 15 or 16 inches long, and
thick in proportion.
The crude wax, when brought home by the bees, is
often of as different colours as are the flowers from
which it is collected: but the new combs are always of
a white colour, which is afterwards changed only by the
impurities arising from the steam, &c. of the bees.
Bees collect crude wax also for food; for if this was
not the case, there would be no want of wax after the
combs are made : but they are observed, even in old
hives, to return in great numbers loaded with such
matter, which is deposited in particular cells, and is
known by the name of bee-bread. We may guess that
they consume a great deal of this substance in food by
the quantity collected ; which, by computation, may in
some hives amount to an hundred weight in a season,
whilst the real wax in such a hive does not perhaps ex¬
ceed two pounds. 1-
It is well known that the habitation of bees ought to s- The pro¬
be very close; and what their hives want from the ne-^0^*
gligence or unskilfulness ofnnan, these animals, supply
by their own industry : so that it is their principal care,
when first hived, to stop up all the cranies. For this
purpose they make use of a resinous gum, which is more
tenacious than wax, and differs greatly from it. This
the ancients,called propolis. It will grow considerably
hard in the hive, though it will in some measure soften
by heat; and is often found different in consistence, co¬
lour, and smell. It has generally an agreeable aroma¬
tic odour when it is warmed ; and by some it is consi¬
dered as a most grateful perfume. When the bees be¬
gin to work with it, it is soft; but it acquires a firmer
consistence every day, till at length it assumes a brown
colour, and becomes much harder than wax. The bees
carry it on their hinder legs ; and some think it is met
with on the birch, the willow, and poplar. However
it is procured, it is certain that they plaster the inside of
their hives with this composition. 14
Honey is originally a juice digested in plants, which 3* The As*,
sweats through their pores, and chiefly in their flowers,
or is contained in reservoirs in which nature stores it.
The bees sometimes penetrate into these stores, and at
other times find the liquor exuded. This they collect
in their stomachs; so that, when loaded with it, they
seem, to an inattentive eye, to come home without any
booty at all.
Besides the liquor already mentioned, which is ob¬
tained from the flowers of plants, another substance,* Sce t!i„
called Ao/zpy-efeiy *, has been discovered, of which the article ifa-
3 I 2 bees rey dew.
n.e-
* See the
articles A
phis and
Honey-
dew.
Of the
manner in
which the
breed.
BEE [ 5i
bees are equally fond. Of this substance there are two
kinds, both deriving their origin from vegetables, though
in very different ways.
I he first kind, the only one known to husbandmen,
and which passes for a dew that falls on trees, is no other
than a mildsweetjuice, which, having circulated through
the vessels of vegetables, is separated in proper reser¬
voirs in the flowers, or on the leaves, where it is proper¬
ly called the honey-dew ; sometimes it is deposited in the
pith, as in the sugar-cane ; and, at other times, in the
juice of pulpy summer fruit when ripe. Such is the
origin of the manna which is collected on the ash and
maple of Calabria and JBrian^ou, where it flows in
great plenty from the leaves and trunks of these trees,
and thickens into the form in which it is usually
seen.
The second kind of honey-dew, which is the chief
resource of bees, after the spring flowers and dew by
transpiration on the leaves are past, owes its origin to a
small mean insect *, the excrement thrown out by which
makes a part of the most delicate honey we ever taste.
from whatever source the bees have collected their
honey, the instant they return home, they seek cells
in which they may disgorge and deposite their loads.
They have two sorts of stores : one which consists of
honey laid up for the winter j and the other of honey
intended for accidental use in case of bad weather, and
for such bees as do not go abroad in search of it. Their
method of securing each of these is different. They
have in each cell a thicker substance, which is placed
over the honey, to prevent its running out of the cell ;
and that substance is raised gradually as the cell is fill¬
ed, till the bees, finding that the cell cannot contain
any more, close it with a covering of wax, not to be
opened till times of want, or during the winter.
It has been already observed, that the cells are in¬
tended for other purposes besides being places of store
7 lor honey. One of their chief uses is, their being nur¬
series for the young. The cells for those which are to
be working bees are commonly half an inch deep j
those for drones, three quarters of an inch ; and those
which are intended for keeping of honey only, still
deeper. T his accounts for the inequalities observed in
the surface of combs.
The queen-bee is generally concealed in the most se¬
cret part of the hive, and is never visible but when she
lays her eggs in such combs as are exposed to sight.
When she does appear, she is always attended by ten
or a dozen of the common sort, who form a kind of re¬
tinue, and follow her wherever she goes with a sedate
and grave tread. Before she lays her eggs, she exa¬
mines the cells where she designs to lay them ; and if
she finds that they contain neither honey, wax, nor
any embryo, she introduces the posterior part of her
body into the cell, and fixes to the bottom of it a small
white egg, which is composed of a thin white mem¬
brane, full of a whitish liquor. In this manner she
goes on, till she fills as many cells as she has eggs to
lay, which are generally many thousands. Sometimes
more than one egg has been deposited in the same cell ;
when this is the case, the working bees remove the su¬
pernumerary eggs, and leave only one in each cell.
On the first or second day after the egg is lodged in
the cell, the drone bee injects a small quantity of whi¬
tish liquid, which, in about a day, is absorbed by the
3
6 ] BEE
egg. On the third or fourth day is produced a worm
or maggot; which, when it is grown so as to touch
the opposite angle, coils itself up in the shape of a se¬
micircle, and floats in a proper liquid, whereby it is
nourished and enlarged in its dimensions. This liquor
is of a whitish colour, of the thickness of cream, and of
an insipid taste like flour and water. Naturalists are
not agreed as to the origin and qualities of this liquid.
Some have supposed, that it consists of some generative
matter, injected by the working bees into each cell, in
order to give fecundity to the eggs : but the most pro¬
bable opinion is, that it is the same with what some
writers have called the bee-bread; and that it is a
mixture of water with the juices of plants and flowers
collected merely for the nutrition of the young, whilst
they are in their weak and helpless state. Whatever
be the nature of this aliment, it is certain that the
common working bees are very industrious in supply¬
ing the worms with a sufficient quantity of it. The
worm is fed by the working bees for about eight days,
till one end touches the other in the form of a ring ; and
when it begins to feel itself uneasy in its first posture,
it ceases to eat, and begins to unroll itself, thrusting
that end forward towards the mouth of the cell which is
to be the head. I he attendant bees, observing these
symptoms of approaching transformation, desist from
their labours in carrying proper food, and employ them¬
selves in fastening up the top of the cell with a lid of
wax, formed in concentric circles, and by their na¬
tural heat in cherishing the brood and hastening the
birth. In this concealed state the worm extends itself
at full length, and prepares a web of a sort of silk in
the manner of the silk worm. This web forms a com¬
plete lining for the cell, and affords a convenient recep¬
tacle for the transformation of the worm into a nymph
or chrysalis. Some naturalists suppose, that as each
cell is destined to the successive breeding of several
worms, the whole web, which is composed of many
crusts or doubles, is in reality a collection of as many
webs as there have been worms,. M. Maraldi appre¬
hends, that this lining is formed of the skin of the
worm thrown off at its entrance into the nymph state :
but it is urged, that if the cells are opened when newlv
covered by the bees, the worm within will be found in
its own form, and detected in the act of spinning its
web \ and by means of glasses it will be found com¬
posed of fine threads regularly woven together, like
those of other spinning animals. In the space of j8
or 20 days the whole process of transformation is fi¬
nished, and the bee endeavours to discharge itself from
confinement by forcing an aperture with its teeth
through the covering of the cell. The passage is gra¬
dually dilated ; so that one horn first appears, then the
head, and afterwards the whole body. This is usually
the work of three hours, and sometimes of half a day.
The bee, after it has disengaged itself, stands on the
surface of the comb, till it has acquired its natural
complexion, and full maturity and strength, so as to be¬
come fit for labour. Tne rest of the bees gather round
it in this state, congratulate its birth, and offer it ho¬
ney out of their own mouths. The exuvke and scat¬
tered pieces of wax which are left in the cell are re¬
moved by the working bees ; and the matrix is na
sooner cleansed and fit for new fecundation, but the
queen deposites another egg in it j insomuch that, M.
Maraldi
BEE [ 5
Maraldi says, he has seen fi%'e bees produced in the
same cell in the space of three months. The young
bees are easily distinguished from the others by their
colour ; they are gray, instead of the yellowish brown
of the common bees. The reason of this is, that their
body is black, and the hairs that grow upon it are
white, from the mixture of which seen together results
a gray ; but this colour forms itself into a brownish yel¬
low by degrees, the rings of the body becoming more
brown and the hairs more yellow.
The eggs from which drones are to proceed, are, as
already observed, laid in larger cells than those of the
working bees. The coverings of these cells, when the
drones are in the nymph state, are convex or swelling
outward, whilst the cells of the working bees are fiat.
This, with the privilege of leading idle eflfeminate lives,
and not working for the public stock, is what distin¬
guishes the drones.
The bees depart from their usual style of building
when they are to raise cells for bringing up such maggots
as are destined to become queens. These are of a longish
oblong form, having one end bigger than the other,
with their exterior surface full of little cavities. Wax,
which is employed with so geometrical a thriftiness in
the raising of hexagonal cells, is expended with pro¬
fusion in the cell which is to be the cradle of a royal
maggot. They sometimes fix it in the middle, and at
other times on one side of a comb. Several common
cells are sacrificed to serve as a basis and support to it.
It is placed almost perpendicular to the common cells,
the largest end being uppermost. The lower end is
open till the season for closing it comes, or till the mag¬
got is ready for transformation. It would be difficult
to conceive how a tender maggot can remain in a cell
turned bottom upmost, if we did not find it buried in
a substance scarcely fluid, and if it were not in itself, at
first, small and light enough to be suspended in this
clammy paste. As it grows it fills all the upper and
larger part of the cell. As soon as the young queen
comes out of her cell, that cell is destroyed, and its
place is supplied by common cells j but as the founda¬
tion of the royal castle is left, this part of the comb is
found thicker than any other. There are Several such
cells prepared ; for if there was only one reared in
each hive, the swarms might often want a conductress.
Many accidents may also destroy the little maggot be¬
fore it becomes a bee. It is therefore necessary that a
number of such cells should be provided ; and accor¬
dingly there are observed several young queens in the
beginning of the summer, more than one of which often
takes flight when a swarm departs.
A young queen is in a condition to lead a swarm
from a hive in which she was born in four or five days
alter she has appeared in it with wings. The br.es of
a swarm are in a great hurry when they know that
their queen is ready to lay. In this case, they give to
their new cells hut part of the depth they are to have,
and defer the finishing of them till they have traced
the number of cells requisite for the present time. The
cells first made are intended only for woiking bees j
these being the most necessary.
When the hive is become too much crowded by the
addition of the young brood, a part of the bees think
of finding themselves a more commodious habitation,
and with that view single out the most forward of the
17 ] BEE
young queens. A new swarm is therefore constantly Bee.
composed of one queen at least, and of several thousand y—'
working bees, as well as of some hundreds of drones.
I he working bees are some old, some young.
Scarce has the colony arrived at its new habitation,
when the working bees labour with the utmost dili¬
gence to procure materials for food and building.
Their p rincipal aim is not only to have cells in which
they may deposite their honey : a stronger motive seems
to animate them. They seem to know that their queen
is in haste to lay her eggs. Their industry is such that
in, 24 hours they will have made combs 20 inches
long, and wide in proportion. They make more wax
during the first fortnight, if the season is favourable,
than they do during all the rest of the year. Other
bees are at the same time busy in stopping all the holes
and crevices they find in their new hive, in order to
guard against the entrance of insects which covet their
honey, their wax, or themselves ; and also to exclude
the cold air, for it is indispensably necessary that they
be lodged warm.
When the bees first settle in swarming, indeed when
they at any time rest themselves, there is something
very particular in their method of taking their repose.
It is done by collecting themselves in a heap, and hang¬
ing to each other by their feet. They sometimes ex¬
tend these heaps to a considerable length. It would
seem probable to us, that the bees from which the
others hang must have a considerable weight suspended
to them. All that can be said is, that the bees must
find this to be a situation agreeable to themselves. They
may perhaps have a method of distending themselves
with air, thereby to lessen their specific gravity ; in the
same manner as fishes do in order to alter their gravity
compared with water.
When a swarm divides into two or more hands,
which settle separately, this division is a sure sign that
there are two or more queens among them. One of
these clusters is generally larger than the other. The
bees of the smaller cluster or clusters, detach them¬
selves by little and little, till at last the whole, together
with the queen or queens, unite with the largest cluster.
As soon as the bees are settled, the supernumerary
queen or queens must be sacrificed to the peace and
tranquillity of the hive. This execution generally
raises a considerable commotion in the hive 5 and seve¬
ral other bees, as well as the queen or queens, lose their
lives. Their bodies may be observed on the ground,
near the hive. The queen that is chosen is of a more
reddish colour than those which are destroyed •, so that
fruitfulness seems to he a great motive of preference in
bees 5 for the nearer they are to the time of laying
their eggs, the bigger, larger, and more shining are their
bodies. The method of hiving these swarms will be ex¬
plained hereafter.
Besides the capital instincts above mentioned, bees Other in-
are possessed of others, some of which are equally ne- stinets.
cessary for their preservation and happiness.—They
anxiously provide against the entrance of insects into
the hive, by gluing up with wax the smallest holes in
the skep. Some stand as centinels at the mouth of the
hive, to prevent insects of any kind from getting in.
But if a snail, or other large insect should get in,
notwithstanding all resistance, they sting it to death ;
and even cover it over with a coat of propolis, to pre¬
vent i
Bcc.
18
Age of
f>ees.
. x9
Opinions
concerning
the sex and
fecundation
of bees.
* Jiarbut,
Genera of
Intects, p.
a 86.
BEE . . [ 5i
vent the bad smell or maggots which might proceed
from the putrefaction of such a large animal. Bees
seem to be warned of the appearance of bad weather by
some particular feeling. It sometimes happens, even
when they are very assiduous and busy, that they on a
sudden cease from their work; not a single one stirs out $
and those that are abroad hurry home in such prodigi¬
ous crowds, that the doors of their habitations are too
small to admit them. On this occasion look up to the
sky, and you will soon discover some of those black
clouds which denote impending rain. Whether they
see the clouds gathering for it, as some imagine, or
whether (as is much more probable) they feel some
other effects of it upon their bodies, is not yet determi¬
ned ; but it is alleged, that no bee is ever caught even
in what w'e call a sudden shower, unless it have been at
a very great distance from the hive, or have been before
injured by some accident, or be sickly and unable to fly
so fast as the rest. Cold is a great enemy to them. To
defend themselves against its effects during a hard win¬
ter, they crowd together in the middle of the hive, and
buzz about, and thereby excite a warmth which is of¬
ten perceptible by laying the hand upon the glass win¬
dows of the hive. They seem to understand one an¬
other by the motions of their wings : when the queen
wants to quit the hive, she gives a little buzz $ and all
the others immediately follow her example, and retire
along with her.
As to the age of bees, the large drones live but a
little while, being destroyed without mercy by the
working bees, probably to save honey, as already no¬
ticed. But of the other sort, lately discovered, no lar¬
ger than the working bees, and not easily to be distin¬
guished from them, the age has not yet been ascertain¬
ed. Writers are not agreed as to the age of the work¬
ing bees. Some maintain that they are annual, and
others suppose that they live many years. Many of
them, it is well known, die annually of hard labour ;
and though they may be preserved by succession in
hives or colonies for several years, the most accurate
observers are of opinion that their age is but a year, or
at the longest no more than two summers.
Concerning the sex and fecundation of bees, various
experiments have been made of late years, by which
new light has been thrown upon the subject, and seve¬
ral difficulties which embarrassed the process of gene¬
ration among these curious insects seem to have been
removed.
Swammerdam, and after him Maraldi, discovered in
the structure of the drones some resemblance to the
male organs of generation, as has already been described,
and from thence concluded that they were the males:
but neither of those accurate and industrious observers
could detect them in the act of copulation. Swammer¬
dam, therefore, entertained a notion, that the female
or queen-bee was fecundated without copulation 5 that
it was sufficient for her to be near the males ; and that
her eggs were impregnated by a kind of vivifying aura,
exhaled fx*om the body of the males, and absorbed by
the female. However, M. Eeaumur, thought that he
had discovered the actual copulation of the drones with
the female-bee, and he has very minutely described the
process of it. A very ingenious naturalist * of the
present day, without taking any notice of recent dia-
8 ]
BEE
coveries, seems to have given into the same idea.
“ The office of the males or drones (says he) is to .
render the queen pregnant. One single female should
in the midst of seven or eight hundred males, one
would think, be incessantly assailed. But nature has
provided against that inconvenience, by making them
of a constitution extremely frigid. The female chooses
out one that pleases her; she is obliged to make the first
advances, and excite him to love by her caresses. But
this favour proves fatal to him : scarce has he ceased
from amorous dalliance, but he is seen to perish. The
pleasure of these observations may be taken, by putting
a female with several males into a bottle.”
Others again, as M. Shirach and M. Hattorf, reject
the drones as bearing no share at all in the business of
propagation, and assert the queen-bee to be self-prolific.
But for what purpose then should wise nature have fur¬
nished the drones with that large quantity of seminal
liquor? to what use so large an apparatus of fecundating
organs so well described by Reaumur and Maraldi ?
The fact is, that the above gentlemen have founded
their opinion upon observations that hives are peopled
at a time of the year when (as they suppose) there are
no drones in being. But we have already noticed, that
nature has provided drones of different sizes for the pur¬
pose of impregnation, adapted to different times, occa¬
sions, and circumstances : And the mistake of Messrs
Shirach and Hattorf seems to have proceeded from their
missing the large-sized drones, and not being acquainted
with or not adverting to the other sort, so hardly dis¬
tinguishable from the working bees.
Lastly, many of the ancients as well as moderns have
supposed that the eggs of the female bee are not impreg¬
nated with the male sperm, while in the body of the
creature, but that they are deposited unimpregnated in
the cells ; and that the male afterwards ejects the male
sperm on them as they lie in the cells, in the same man¬
ner as the generation of fishes is supposed to be perform¬
ed by the males impregnating the spawn after it is cast
out by the females. M. Maraldi t long since conjee-fHwt.
tured that this might be the case ; and he was confirmed Acad.
in his opinion, by observing a liquid whitish substance ^12
surrounding each egg at the bottom of the cell a little ^
while after it had been laid, and that a great number of
eggs, which are not encompassed by this liquor, remain¬
ed barren in the cell.
This method of impregnation has been lately esta¬
blished beyond all contradiction by the observations of
Mr Debraw of Cambridge J. Having put some bees 1^7.
into glass-hives with a large number of drones, he ob-^^V
served on the first or second day (always before the^jj alt
third) from the time in which the eggs were placed
in the cells, which the queen generally lays on the
fourth or fifth day after they are put into the hive,
that a great number of bees fastened themselves to one
another, and formed a kind of curtain from the top to
the bottom of the hive, probably in order to conceal ,0
the process of generation. Mr Hebraw, however, Mr De-
could soon perceive several bees, whose size he was not braw’i ea
able to distinguish, inserting the posterior part of their
bodies each into a cell, and sinking into it ; after averieSi
little while they retired, and he could see with the na¬
ked eye a small quantity of whitish liquor left in the
angle of the base of each cell containing an egg; this
liquor
Fee.
BEE [51
liquor was less liquid than honey, and had no sweet
taste.
In order to prove farther that the eggs are fecun¬
dated by the males, and that their presence is necessary
at the time of breeding, Mr Debraw made the follow¬
ing experiments. They consist in leaving in a hive the
queen, with only the common or working bees, without
any drones, to see whether the eggs she laid would be
prolific. To this end, he took a swarm, and shook all
the bees into a tub of water, leaving them there till
they were quite senseless : by which means he could
distinguish the drones without any danger of being
stung: Leaving these out, therefore, he restored the
queen and working-bees to their former state, by
spreading them on a brown paper in the sun j after
this he replaced them in a glass-hive, where they soon
began to work as usual. The queen laid eggs, which,
to his great "feurprise, were impregnated •, for he ima¬
gined he had separated, all the drones or males, and
therefore omitted watching them ; at the end of twen¬
ty days he found several of his eggs had, in the usual
course of changes, produced bees, while some had wi¬
thered away, and others were covered with honey.
Hence he inferred, that some of the males had escaped
his notice, and impregnated part of the eggs. To
convince himself of this, he took away all the brood
comb that was in the hive, in order to oblige the bees
to provide a fresh quantity, being determined to watch
narrowly their motions after new eggs should be laid
in the cells. On the second day after the eggs were
placed in the cells, he perceived the same operation
that was mentioned before j namely, that of the bees
hanging down in the form of a curtain, while others
thrust the posterior part of their body into the ceils. He
then introduced his hand into the hive, and broke off
a piece of the comb, in which there were two of these
insects: he found in neither of them any sting (a cir¬
cumstance peculiar to the drones) 5 upon dissection,
with the assistance of a microscope, he discovered the
four cylindrical bodies which contain the glutinous li¬
quor, of a whitish colour, as observed by Maraldi in
the large drones, He was therefore now under a ne¬
cessity of repeating his experiments, in destroying the
males, and even those which might be suspected to be
such.
He once more immersed the same bees in water ; and
when they appeared in a senseless state, he gently press¬
ed every one, in order to distinguish those armed with
stings from those which had none, and which of course
he supposed to be males : of those last he found fifty-
seven, and replaced the same in a glass-hive, where
they immediately applied again to the work of making
cells j and on the fourth or fifth day, very early in the
morning, he had the pleasure to see the queen-bee de-
posite her eggs in those cells j he continued watching
most part of the ensuing days, but could discover no¬
thing of wdiat he had seen before.
The eggs after the fourth day, instead of changing
in the manner of caterpillars, were found in the same
state they were the first day, except that some w'ere co¬
vered with honey. A singular event happened the next
day about noon : all the bees left their own hive, and
attempted to get into a neighbouring hive, probably
in search of males •, but the queen was found dead, ha¬
ving been killed in the engagement.
9 ] B ETE
To be further satisfied, Mr Debraw took the brood-
comb, which had not been impregnated, and divided it
into two parts : one he placed under a glass bell, N° 1.
with honey-comb for the bees food, taking care to leave
a queen, but no drones, among the bees confined in it :
the other piece of brood-comb he placed under another
glass bell, N° 2. with a few drones, a queen, and a pro¬
portionable number of common bees. The result was,
that in the glass, N° 1. there was no impregnation,
the eggs remained in the same state they were in when
put into the glass ; and on giving the bees their liberty
on the seventh day, they all flew away, as was found
to be the case in the former experiment j whereas in
the glass, N° 2. the very day after the bees had been put
into it, the eggs were impregnated by the drones, the
bees did not leave their hive on receiving their liberty,
the eggs at the usual time underwent the necessary
transformations, and a numerous young colony was pro¬
duced.
Naturalists have observed, that the queen bees are
produced in a manner peculiar to themselves, and dif¬
ferent from the drones and working bees. Some have
supposed, that the eggs laid by the queen in a hive, and
destined for the production of queen bees, are of a pecu¬
liar kind ; but though this is not the case, as M. Shi-
rach has lately discovered, yet there are particular cells
appropriated for this purpose. These cells are general¬
ly near the edges, and at the bottom of the combs, and
sometimes on the sides of a honey-comb: they are of an
oblong circular form, and very strong 5 and are more or
less numerous in different hives as occasion seems to re¬
quire. It has also been supposed, that the matter with
which they are nourished is of a different kind and qua¬
lity from that employed for the nourishment of the
other bees; that which has been collected out of the
royal cells being of a gummy glutinous nature, of a
deep trausparent red, and dissolving in the fire rather
than crumbling to powder.
It has been generally supposed, that the queen bee
is the only female contained in the hive ; and that the
working bees are neutral, or of neither sex. But
M. Shirach * has lately established a different doc-*172*^
trine, which has been also confirmed by the later ob-Na/. cte fa
servations of Mr Debraw f. According to M. Shi- Reme
rach, all the working or common bees are females in
disguise; and the queen-bee lays only two kinds of f phi/.
eggs, viz. those which are to produce the drones, and Trans.
those from which the working bees are to proceed :vo^ txvib
and from any one or more of these, one or more queens pait u
may be produced ; so that every worm of the latter or Schi-
common kind, which has been hatched about three rack’s dis-
days, is capable, under certain circumstances, of be- coveries.
coming the queen or mother of a hive. In proof of
this doctrine, new and singular as it may seem, he al¬
leges a number of satisfactory and decisive experiments,
which have been since verified by those of Mr Debraw.
In the early months of the spring, and in any preceding
month, even so late as November, he cut off from an old
hive a piece of that part of the comb which contains
the eggs of the working bees; taking care, however,
that it contained likewise worms which had been hatch¬
ed about three days. He fixed this in an empty hive,
or box, together with a portion of honey-comb, &c.
or, in other words, with a sufficiency of food and build¬
ing materials, or wax, for the use of the intended co¬
lony.
BEE r 520 J BEE
lony. He then put into, and confined within the same
box, a sufficient number of common working bees, ta¬
ken from the same or any other hive. As soon as the
members of this small community found themselves de¬
prived of their liberty, and without a queen, a dreadful
uproar ensued, which continued generally, with some
short intervals of silence, for the space of about twenty-
four hours ; during which time it is to be supposed they
were alternately meditating and holding council on the
future support of the new republic. On the final cessa¬
tion of this tumult, the general and almost constant re¬
sult was, that they betook themselves to work j first
proceeding to the construction of a royal cell, and then
taking the proper measures for hatching and feeding the
brood enclosed within them. Sometimes even on the
second day the.foundations of one or more royal cells
were to be perceived j the view of which furnished cer¬
tain indications that they had elected one of the enclo¬
sed worms to the sovereignty.
The operation has been hitherto conducted in the
house. This new colony may now be safely trusted in
the garden, if the weather be warm and have the li¬
berty allowed them of passing out of the box ; of which
they instantly avail themselves, and are seen in a short
time almost totally to desert their new habitation. In
about two hours, however, they begin to re-enter it.
We should not neglect to observe, that if they should
be placed near the old hive, from which they were ta¬
ken, they will very often attempt to enter it, but are
as constantly repulsed by their former companions and
brethren. It is prudent, therefore, to place them at
a distance from the mother state, in order to avoid the
inconveniences of a civil war. The final result of the
experiment is, that the colony of working bees thus
shut up, with a morsel of common brood, not only
hatch it, but are found, at the end of eighteen or
twenty days, to have produced from thence one or two
queens •, which have apparently proceeded from worms
of the common sort, pitched upon by them for that
purpose ; and which, under other circumstances, that
is, if they had remained in the old hive, there is rea¬
son to suppose would have been changed into com¬
mon working bees. In the present instance, the com¬
mon worm appears to be converted by them into a
queen-bee, merely because the hive was in want of one.
Hence we may justly infer, that the kingdom of the
bees is not, if the expression may be used, * jure divino
or hereditary monarchy, but an elective kingdom ; in
which the choice of their future ruler is made by the
body of the people, while she is yet in the cradle, or
in embryo ; and who are determined by motives of
preference which will perhaps for ever elude the pene¬
tration of the most sagacious naturalists.
The conclusions drawn by M. Shirach, from expe¬
riments of the preceding kind, often repeated by him¬
self and others with the same success, are, that all the
common or working bees were originally of the female
sex *, but that when they have undergone their last me¬
tamorphosis, they are condemned to a state of perpe¬
tual virginity, and the organs of generation are oblite^-
rated •, merely because they have not been lodged, fed,
and brought up in a particular manner, while they were
in the worm state. He supposes that the worm, de¬
signed by the community to be a queen, or mother,
owes its metamorphosis into a queen, partly to the ex¬
traordinary size of its cell, and its peculiar position in
it ; but principally to a certain appropriate nourishment
found there, and carefully administered to it by the
working bees while it was in the worm state ; by which,
and possibly other means unknown, the developement
and extension of the germ of the female organs, previ¬
ously existing in the embryo, is effected ; and those dif¬
ferences in its form and size are produced, which after¬
wards so remarkably distinguish it from the common
working bees.
This discovery is capable of being applied towards
forming artificial swarms, or new colonies of bees, by
which means their number might be increased, and
their produce in honey and wax proportionably aug¬
mented.
Explanation of Plate LXXXIX. Fig. 1. is the
queen bee. 2. Is the drone. 3. Is the working bee.
4. Represents the bees hanging to each othef by the feet,
which is the method of taking their repose. 5. The
proboscis or trunk, which is one of the principal or¬
gans of the bees, wherewith they gather the honey
and take their nourishment. 6. One of the hind legs
of a working bee, loaded with wax. 7. A comb, in
which the working bees are bred. The cells are the
smallest of any. Two of them have the young bees en¬
closed. A royal cell is suspended on one side. 8. A
comb in which the drones are bred, being larger than
the former 5 the young drones being included in seve-
fal of them ; with two royal cells suspended on the
side. 9. A similar comb, in which the royal cell is
fixed in the middle of the comb; and several common
cells are sacrificed to serve as a basis and support to it.
In general, the royal cells are suspended on the side
of a comb, as in fig. 7. and 8. To the side of fig. 9.
two royal cells are 'begun, when they resemble pretty
much the cup in which an acorn lies. The other
royal cells have the young queens included in them.
Fig. 10. exhibits the sting and all its parts. The sting
is composed of a sheath or case, and two shanks, united
to each other, and terminating in a sharp point, so as
to look like a single part, b, The poisonous bag.
c, The tube that serves to convey the poison from its
bag to the thickest part of the sting’s sheath, dd, The
two shanks of the sting, mutually converging to each
other, e e, The sheath of the sting, The thickest
end of the sheath, where the tube opens into it, by
which it receives the insect’s poison, g, The extreme
point of the sting, formed by the two shanks of that
organ, that are in this place closely united, h h, The
beards with which the shanks of the sting are armed
at their extremities, i, The tube that serves to secrete
the poison, which it discharges into the poison-bag.
k k, The two blind extremities of the said tube. I III,
1 wo pair of cartilages, of different forms, which are
for the most part of a deep black, and articulated a-
mong themselves, and with the shanks of the sting.
tn m. Two other cartilages less conspicuous than the
former, with one pair of which they are articulated.
These two cartilages m m, are almost entirely of a
membranaceous substance, nnnnnnnn, Eight places
in which the foregoing cartilages are articulated among
themselves, and with the shanks of the sting dd. ooooi
Four muscles serving to move the sting different ways,
by the assistance of the same cartilages, pp, Two
muscles which draw the shanks of the sting into its
sheath*
BEE
sheath, q q, Two appendages of the sting which are
moved along with it, and seem to answer no other pur¬
pose but that of ornament.—Fig. 11. The ovary.—
Fig. 12. Six eggs drawn after nature, and placed on
their ends : These eggs are oblong, very slender, but
somewhat thicker on their upper parts.—Fig. 13. An
egg viewed with a microscope : it resembles the skin
of a fish, divested of its scales, but still retaining the
marks of their insertion.—Fig. 14. Worms of bees,
of difl'erent sizes, drawn after nature, c, A worm
newly hatched, bcde, Four worms that have received
more nourishment, and are more grown, f g, Two
worms still bigger than the former, having had more
time to make use of the nourishment provided for
them. They are here represented as they lie doubled
in their cells, h, A worm placed on its belly so as to
show on its back a black line, inclining to a light blue
or gray. This line denotes the stomach, which ap¬
pears in this place through the transparent parts that
lie over it. i, A worm lying on its back, and begin¬
ning to draw in the hinder part of its body, and move
its head.—Fig. 15. A full-grown worm, viewed with a
microscope, a c, Its 14 annular incisions or divisions.
hy The head and eyes, &c. ccc, Ten breathing-
holes.—Fig. 16. The worm forming its web. a a. The
sides of the cell that contain it. b, The bottom of
the cell, c, The entrance or door of the cell. The
worm is here represented as making its web in the pro-
perest manner to shut up this entrance.—Fig. 17. Worm
taken out of the web in which it had enclosed itself,
and just ready to cast its skin.—Fig. 18. A cell con¬
taining the worm changed into a nymph, and per¬
fectly lined with the said worm’s web. Likewise the
said web entire, with the nymph contained in it, as
they appear on opening the cell, a a, The sides of
the cell, lined with the worm’s web. b; The mouth
of the cell, perfectly closed by the web. c, The
bottom of the cell, d, The vveb entire, as it appears
on opening the cell, which it greatly resembles in form.
e. The upper part of the web, of a convex form. This
part shows its filaments pretty distinctly, f, The en¬
closed nymph appearing through the transparent sides
of the web. g, The bottom of the web, answering
to that of the wax cell.—Fig. 19. Worm changed to
a nymph, of its natural size and form, yet so as to ex¬
hibit its limbs, which are folded up in a most wonder¬
ful manner.—Fig. 20. The nymph of the bee viewed
with the microscope, displaying in a distinct manner
all the parts of the enclosed insect, and the beautiful
manner in which they are laid up. c, The head,
bloated with humours. b by The eyes, projecting
considerably, c c, The horns, or antennae, d, The
lip. e e, The teeth, or'jaw-bones. J'f, The first
pair of joints belonging to the proboscis. A, The pro¬
boscis itself, it, The first pair of legs, k k, Two
transparent still’ little parts, lying against the lowest
joints of the first pair of legs. These little parts
are not to be found, as they remain in the skin it sheds
on quitting the nymph state. 11, The second pair of
legs, mm, The wings, n n, The blade-bones. 00,
The last pair of legs, pp, The abdominal rings.
q, (g) The hinder part of the body. The sting pro¬
jects a little in this place, r, Two little parts accom¬
panying the sting, s, The anus.—Fig. 2t. a, A cell
lull of bees bread, placed in layers. by Little grains,
Vol. III. Part II. f
f 521 ]
BEE
of which the said substance, viewed with the micro- Bee.
scope, appears to consist. 1——
II. Of the Management of Bees, and most approved
Inventions for saving their Lives while tve take their
Honey and Wax.
2 2
I. Of the Apiary, and Hives. Columella directs of the api-
that the apiary face the south, and be situated in a ary.
place neither too hot nor too much exposed to the
cold : that it be in a valley, in order that the loaded
bees may with the greater ease descend to their homes ;
that it be near the mansion house, on account of the
conveniency of watching them ; but so situated as not
to be exposed to noisome smells, or to the din of men
or cattle : that it be surrounded with a wall, which
however should not rise above three feet high : that, if
possible, a running stream be near them ; or, if that
cannot be, that water be brought near them in troughs,
with pebbles or small stones in the water, for the bees
to rest on while they drink ; or that the water be con¬
fined within gently declining banks, in order that the
bees may have safe access to it ; they not being able to
produce either combs, honey, or food for their mag¬
gots, without water 5 that the neighbourhood of ri¬
vers or basons of water with high banks be avoided,
because winds may whirl the bees into them, and they
cannot easily' get on shore from thence to dry them¬
selves ; and that the garden in which the apiary stands
be well furnished with such plants as afford the bees
plenty of good pasture. The trees in this garden
should be of the dwarf kind, and their heads bushy, in
order that the swarms which settle on them may be the
more easily hived.
The proprietor should be particularly attentive that
the bees have also in their neighbourhood such plants as
yield them plenty of food. Columella enumerates ma¬
ny of these fitted to a warm climate: among them he
mentions thyme, the oak, the pine, the sweet-smelling
cedar, and all fruit-trees. Experience has taught us,
that furze, broom, mustard, clover, heath, &c. are
excellent for this purpose. Pliny recommends broom,
in particular, as a plant exceedingly grateful and very
profitable to bees. 2,
With regard to hives, those made of straw are gene- Of hives,
rally preferred, on several accounts j they are not liable
to be over-heated by the rays of the sun j they keep
out cold better than wood or any other materials ; and
the cheapness renders the purchase of them easy. As
the ingenious Mr Wildman’s hives are reckoned to be
of a preferable construction to any other, we shall give
an account of them in his own words.
“ My hives (says he) are seven inches in height
and ten in width. The sides are upright, so that the
top and bottom are of the same diameter. A hive holds
nearly a peck. In the upper row of straw there is a
hoop of about half an inch in breadth 5 to which are
nailed five bars of deal, full a quarter of an inch in
thickness, and an inch and quarter wide, and half an
inch asunder from one another; a narrow short bar is
nailed at each side, half an inch distant from the bars
next them, in order to fill up the remaining parts of
the circle ; so that there are in all seven bars of deal,
to which the bees fix their combs. The space of half
an inch between the bars allows a sufficient and easy
3 U passage
BEE [5
Bee. passage for the bees from one comb to another. In or-
\r~—J <ier to give great steadiness to the combs, so that, up¬
on moving the hive, the combs may not fall off, or in¬
cline out of their direction, a stick should be run through
the middle of the hive, in a direction directly across
the bars or at right angles with them. When the
hives are made, a piece of wood should be worked into
the lower row of straw, long enough to allow a door
for the bees, of four inches in length, and half an inch
in height.
“ I he proprietor of the bees should provide himself
with several flat covers of straw, worked of the same
thickness as the hives, and a foot in diameter, that so
it may be of the same width as the outside of the hives.
Before the cover is applied to the hive, a piece of clean
paper, of the size of the top of the hive, should be
laid over it j and a coat of cow-dung, which is the least
apt to crack of any cement easily to be obtained, should
he laid all round the circumference of the hive. Let
the cover be laid upon this, and made fast to the hive
with a packing-needle and pack-thread, so that neither
cold nor vermin may enter.
“ Each hive should stand single on a piece of deal,
or other wood, somewhat larger than the bottom of
the hive : That part of the stand which is at the mouth
of the hive should project some inches, for the bees to
rest on when they return from the field. This stand
should be supported upon a single post, two and a half
feet high ; to which it should he screwed very secure¬
ly, that high winds, or other accidents, may not blow
down both stand and hive. A quantity of soot mixed
with barley chaff should be strewed on the ground round
the post j which will effectually prevent ants, slugs, and
other vermin, from rising up to the hive. The soot
and chaff should from time to time be renewed as it
is blown or washed away ; though, as it is sheltered by
the stand, it remains a considerable time, especially if
care be taken that no weeds rise through it. Weeds,
indeed, should not be permitted to rise near the hive j
for they may give shelter to vermin which may be hurt¬
ful to the bees.
“ The stands for bees should be four yards asunder j
or if the apiary will not admit of so much, as far asun¬
der as may be, that the bees of one hive may not inter¬
fere with those of another hive, as is sometimes the
case when the hives are near one another or on the
same stand j for the bees, mistaking their own hives,
light sometimes at the wrong door, and a fray ensues,
24 in which one or more may lose their lives.
Of the pro- “ ihe person who intends to erect an apiary should
foTpurcha- Purchase a Pl0Per number of hives at the latter part of
sing hives t'ie year» when they are cheapest. The hives should
of bees. be full of combs, and well stored with bees. The pur¬
chaser should examine the combs, in order to know the
age of the hives. The combs of that season are white,
those of the former year are of a darkish yellow ; and
where the combs are black, the hive should be rejected,
because old Lives ai’e most liable to vermin and other
accidents.
“ If the number of hives wanted were not purchased
in the autumn, it will be necessary to remedy this ne¬
glect after the severity of the cold is past fn the spring.
At this season, bees which are in good condition will
get into the fields early in the morning, return loaded,
enter boldly, and do not come out of the hive in bad
2 ] BEE
weather j for when they do, this indicates they are in gee
great want of provisions. They are alert on the least ' 
disturbance, and by the loudness of their humming we
judge of their strength. They preserve their hives free
from all filth, and are ready to defend it against every
enemy that approaches.
“ The summer is an improper time for buying bees,
because the heat of the weather softens the wax, and
thereby renders the combs liable to break, if they are
not very well secured. The honey, too, being then
thinner than at other times, is more apt to run out of
the cells ; which is attended with a double disadvan¬
tage, namely, the loss of the honey, and the daubing
of the bees, whereby many of them may be destroyed.
A first and strong swarm may indeed be purchased j
and, if leave can be obtained, permitted to stand in the
same garden till the autumn $ but if leave is not ob¬
tained, it may be carried away in the night after it has
been hived.
“ I suppose, that, in the stocks purchased, the bees
are in hives of the old construction. The only di¬
rection here necessary is, that the first swarm from
these stocks should be put into one of my hives } and
that another ol my hives should in a few days be put
under the old stock, in order .to prevent its swarming
again.” _ 2S
2. Of Hiving. Bees, as has been already observed, Of Liviag |
never swarm till the hive be too much crowded by thet^eswarmi^
young brood. They first begin to swarm in May, or
in the end of April, but earlier or later according to
the warmth of the season. They seldom swarm before
ten in the morning, and seldom later than three in the
afternoon. We may know when they are about to
swarm, by clusters of them hanging on the outside of
the hive, and by the drones appearing abroad more
than usual : But the most certain sign is, when the bees -
refrain from flying into the fields, though the season be
inviting. Just before they take flight, there is an un¬
common silence in the hive ; after this, as soon as one
takes flight, they all follow. Before the subsequent
swarmings, there is r. great noise in the hive, which is
supposed to be occasioned by a contest whether the
young or the old queen should go out. When the bees
of a swarm fly too high, they are made to descend lower,
by throwing handfuls of sand or dust among them, which
they probably mistake for rain. For the same purpose,
it is usual to beat on a kettle or frying-pan : This prac¬
tice may have taken its rise from observing that thun¬
der or any great noise prompts such bees as are in the
fields to return home.
As soon as the swarm is settled, the bees which com¬
pose it should be got into a hive with all convenient
speed, to prevent their taking wing again. If they
settle on a small branch of a tree, easy to come at, it
may be cut oft’ and laid upon a cloth j the hive being
ready immediately to put over them. If the branch
cannot be conveniently cut, the bees may be swept from
oft it into a hive. Lodge but the queen into the hive,
and the rest will soon follow. If the bees must be con¬
siderably disturbed in order to get them into the hive,
the most advisable way is to let them remain in the
place where they have pitched till the evening, when
there is less danger of their taking wing. If it be ob¬
served that they still hover about the place they first
alighted upon, the branches there may be rubbed with
, rue,
BEE
Bee. rue» or aWer-Ieaves, or any other thing distasteful to
them, to prevent their returning to it.
The hive employed on this occasion should be cleaned
with the utmost care, and its inside be rubbed very hard
with a coarse cloth, to get oil' the loose straws, or other
impurities, which might cost them a great deal of time
and labour to gnaw away. It may then be rubbed with
fragrant herbs or flowers, the smell of which is agree¬
able to the bees ; or with honey.
Tiie h ive should not be immediately set on the stool
where it is to remain ; but should be kept near the place
at which the bees settled, till the evening, lest some
stragglers should he lost. It should be shaded either
with boughs or with a cloth, that the too great heat of
the sun may not annoy the bees.
We sometimes see a swarm of bees, after having left
their hive, and even alighted upon a tree, return to
their first abode. This never happens but when the
young queen did not come forth with them, for want of
strength, or perhaps courage to trust her wings for the
first time ; or possibly from a consciousness of her not
2(5 being impregnated.
Uniting When a swarm is too few in number for a hive, an-
,nns- other may he added. The usual method of thus unit¬
ing swarms is very easy. Spread a cloth at night upon
the ground close to the hive, in which the two casts
or swarms are to be united; lay a stick across this
cloth ; then fetch the hive with the new swarm, set
it over the stick, give a smart stroke on the top of the
hive, and all the bees will drop down upon the cloth
in a cluster. This done, thiow aside the empty hive,
take the other from oil’ the stool, and set this last over
the bees, who will soon ascend into it, mix with those
already there, and become one and the same family.
Others, instead of striking the bees down upon the
cloth, place with its bottom upmost the hive in which
the united swarms are to live, and strike the bees of
the other hive down into it. The former of these hives
is then restored to its natural situation, and the bees of
both hives soon unite. If some bees still adhere to the
other hive, they may be brushed off on the cloth, and
they will soon join their brethren. Or one may take
the following method, which gives less disturbance to
the bees. Set with its mouth upmost the hive into
which the young swarm has been put, and set upon it
the other hive. The bees in the lower hive, finding
themselves in an inverted situation, will soon ascend
into the upper.
Though all writers acknowledge, that one of the
queens is constantly slain on these occasions, and gene¬
rally a considerable number of the working bees ; yet
none of them, Columella excepted, has proposed the
easy remedy of killing the queen of the latter cast or
swarm before the union is made ; a means by which
the li ves of the working bees may be preserved. This
may be done either by intoxicating them and then
picking her out, or by searching her out when the
bees are beaten down upon the cloth ; for this being
done in the night, to prevent the battle which might
otherwise ensue, there will be no great difficulty in
finding her.
A large swarm may weigh eight pounds, and so
gradually less to one pound : consequently a very good
one may weigh five or six pounds. All such as weigh
less than four pounds should be strengthened by uniting
BEE
to each of them a less numerous swarm. The size of j5ec.
the hive should be proportioned to the number of the v
bees ; and, as a general rule, it should be rather under
than over sized, because bees require to be kept warmer
than a large hive will admit of.
In the Letters from an American Farmer, we have Bee-Inun
the following entertaining account of the swarming ofingin A-
bees, their flight into the woods, and the method ofme“ca-
discovering them there. A little experience renders it
easy to predict the time of their swarming : but the
“ difficult point is, when on the wing, to know whe¬
ther they want to go to the woods or not. If they
have previously pitched in some hollow trees, it is
not the allurements of salt and water, of fennel, hic¬
kory leaves, &c. nor the finest box, that can induce
them to stay. They will prefer those rude, rough,
habitations, to the best polished mahogany hive. When
that is the case with mine, I seldom thwart their incli¬
nations. It is in freedom that they work. Were I
to confine them, they would dwindle away and quit
their labour. In such excursions we only part for a
while. I am generally sure to find them again the fol¬
lowing fall. This elopement of theirs only adds to my
recreations. I know how to deceive even their super¬
lative instinct. Nor do I fear losing them, though 18
miles from my house, and lodged in the most lofty
trees in the most impervious of our forests. After I
have done sowing, by way of recreation I prepare for
a week’s jaunt in the woods, not to hunt either the
deer or the bears, as my neighbours do, but to catch
the more harmless bees. I cannot boast that this chase
is so noble or so famous among men : but I find it less
fatiguing, and full as profitable ; and the last conside¬
ration is the only one that moves me. I take with me
my dog, as a companion, for he is useless as to this
game ; my gun, for no one ought to enter the woods
without one ; my blanket, some provisions, some wax,
vermilion, honey, and a small pocket-compass. With
these implements I proceed to such woods as are at a
considerable distance from any settlements. I careful¬
ly examine whether they abound with large trees ; if
so, I make a small fire, on some flat stones, in a con¬
venient place. On the fire I put some wax: close by
this fire, on another stone, I drop honey in distinct
drops, which I surround with small quantities of vermi¬
lion, laid on the stone ; and then I retire carefully to
watch whether any bees appear. If there are any in
that neighbourhood, I rest assured that the smell of the
burnt wax will unavoidably attract them. They will
soon find out the honey, for they are fond of preying
on that which is not their own ; and in their approach,
they will necessarily tinge themselves with some parti¬
cles of vermilion, which will adhere long to their bo¬
dies. I next fix my compass, to find out their course ;
which they keep invariably straight, when they are re¬
turning home loaded. By the assistance of my watch, I
observe how long those are in returning which are mark¬
ed with vermilion. Thus possessed of the course, and,
in some measure, of the distance, which I can easily
guess at, I follow the first, and seldom fail of coming
to the tree where those republicans are lodged. I then
mark it; and thus, with patience, I have found out
sometimes 11 swarms in a season ; and it is inconceiv¬
able what a quantity of honey the§e trees will some¬
times afford. It entirely depends on the size of the
3 U 2 hollow,
[ 523 ]
BEE [ 524 ] BEE
Bee.
. 18
Shifting
the bees
ia search o
pasture.
Lib. ix.
c. 14.
Xiib. xxi.
e- 12.
Vol. ii.
p. 24.
hollow, as the bees never rest or swarm till it is reple-
' nishet! 5 for, like men, it is only the want of room
that induces them to quit the maternal hive. Next I
proceed to some of the nearest settlements, where I
procure proper assistance to cut down the trees, get all
my prey secured, and then return home with my
prize. The first bees I ever procured were thus found
in the woods by mere accident j for, at that time, I
had no kind of skill in this method of tracing them.
The body of the tree being perfectly sound, they had
lodged themselves in the hollow of one of its principal
limbs, which I carefully sawed off, and with a good
deal of labour and industry, brought it home, where I
fixed it up in the same position in which I found it
growing. This was in April. I had five swarms that
year, and they have been ever since very prosperous.
This business generally takes up a week of my time
every fall, and to me it is a week of solitary ease and
relaxation.”
3. Of shifting the Abode of Bees. Great improve-
P ments may certainly be made in the essential article of
providing plenty of pasture for bees, whenever this
subject shall be more carefully attended to than it has
hitherto been. A rich corn country is well known to
be a barren desert to them during the most considerable
part of the year $ and therefore the practice of other
nations, in shifting the places of abode of their bees,
well deserves our imitation.
Columella informs us, that, as few places are so hap¬
pily situated as to afford the bees proper pasture both
in the beginning of the season and also in the autumn,
it was the advice of Celsus, that after the vernal pas¬
tures are consumed, the bees should be transported to
places abounding with autumnal flowers ; as was prac¬
tised by conveying the bees from Achaia to Attica,
from Euboea and the Cyclad islands to Scyrus 5 and al¬
so in Sicily, where they were brought to Hybla from
other parts of the island.
We find by Pliny, that this was likewise the prac¬
tice of Italy in his time. “ As soon,” says he, “ as
the spring-food for bees has failed in the valleys near
our towns, the hives of bees are put into boats, and
carried up against the stream of the river, in the night,
in search of better pasture. The bees go out in the
morning in quest of provisions, and return regularly to
their hives in the boats, with the stores they have col¬
lected. This method is continued, till the sinking of
the boats to a certain depth in the water shows that
the hives are sufficiently full j and they are then car¬
ried back to their former homes, where their honey is
taken out of them.” And this is still the practice of
the Italians who live near the banks of the Po, (the
river which Pliny instanced particularly in the above-
quoted passage).
M. Maillet relates, in his curious Description of E-
gypt, that, “ spite of the ignorance and rusticity which
have got possession of that country, there yet remain
in it several footsteps of the industry and skill of the
ancient Egyptians. One of their most admirable con¬
trivances is, their sending their bees annually into di¬
stant countries, in order to procure them sustenance
there, at a time when they could not find any at home j
and their afterwards bringing them back, like shepherds
who should travel with their flock, and make them feed
as they go. It was observed by the ancient inhabi-
3
tants of Lower Egypt, that all plants blossomed, and
the fruits of the earth ripened, above six weeks earlier
in Upper Egypt than with them. They applied this
remark to their bees j and the means then made use of
by them, to enable these usefully industrious insects to
reap advantage from the more forward state of nature
there, were exactly the same as are now practised, for
the like purpose, in that country. About the end of
October, all such inhabitants of Lower Egypt as
have hives of bees, embax-k them on the Nile, and
convey them up that river quite into Upper Egypt j
observing to time it so that they arrive there just when
the inundation is withdrawn, the lands have been sown,
and the flowers begin to bud. The hives thus sent are
marked and numbered by their respective owners, and
placed pyramidically in boats prepared for the puj-pose.
After they have remained some days at their farthest
station, and are supposed to have gathered all the wax
and honey they could find in the fields within two or
three leagues around ; their conductors convey them
in the same boats two or three leagues lower down,
and there leave the laborious insects so long time as is
necessary for them to collect all the riches of this spot.
Thus, the nearer they come to the place of their more
permanent abode, they find the productions of the earth,
and the plants which afford them food, forward in pro¬
portion. In fine, about the beginning of February,
after having travelled through the whole length of
Egypt, gathering all the rich produce of the delight¬
ful banks of the Nile, they arrive at the mouth of that
river, towards the ocean j from whence they set out,
and from whence they are now returned to their seve¬
ral homes : for care is taken to keep an exact register
of every district from whence the hives were sent in
the beginning of the season, of their numbers, of the
names of the persons who sent them, and likewise of
the mark or number of the boat in which they were
placed.”
In many parts of France, floating bee-houses are
very common. They have on board one barge three¬
score or a hundred bee hives, well defended fx*om the
inclemency of an accidental storm. With these the
owners suffer themselves to float gently down the river,
the bees continually choosing their flowery pasture a-
long the banks of the stream j and thus a single float¬
ing bee-house yields the proprietor a considex-able in¬
come.
They have also a method of transporting their bees
by land, well worth our imitation in many parts of
this kingdom. Their fii'st care is, to examine those
hives, some of whose honey-combs might be broken or
separated by the jolting of the vehicle; they are made
fast one to the other, and against the sides of the hive,
by means of small sticks, which may be disposed dif¬
ferently as occasion will point out. This being done,
evei’y hive is set upon a packing-cloth, or something
like it, the threads of which are very wide ; the sides
of this cloth are then turned up and laid on the outside
of each hive, in which state they are tied together with,
a piece of small pack-thread wound several times round
the hive. As many hives as a cart built for that pui’-
pose will hold, are afterwards placed in this vehicle.
The hives are set two and two, the whole length of
the cart. Over these are placed others ; which -make,
as it were, a second story or bed of hives. Those
which
Mi age.
»' t of
bo in
V.cr.
BEE [ s
which are stored with combs should always be turned
J topsy-turvy. It is for the sake of their combs, and to
fix them the better, that they are disposed in this man¬
ner ; for such as have but a small quantity of combs in
them, are placed in their natural situation. Care is
taken in this stowage not to let one hive stop up an¬
other, it being essentially necessary for the bees to have
air j and it is for this reason they are wrapped up in a
coarse cloth, the threads of which were wove very
wide, in order that the air may have a free passage,
and lessen the heat which these insects raise in their
hives, especially when they move about very tumultu¬
ously, as often happens in these carts. Those used for
this purpose in Yevre, hold from 30 to 48 hives. As
soon as all are thus stowed, the caravan sets out. If
the season is sultry, they travel only in the night; but
a proper advantage is made of cool days. These cara¬
vans do not go fast. The horses must not be permitted
even to trot: they are led slowly, and through the
smoothest roads. When there are not combs in the
hives sufficient to support the bees during their journey,
the owner takes the earliest opportunity of resting them
wherever they can collect wax. The hives are"taken
out of the cart, then set upon the ground, and after re¬
moving the cloth from over them, the bees go forth in
search of food. I he first field they come to serves them
as an inn. In the evening, as soon as they are all re¬
turned, the hives are shut up; and being placed again
in the cart, they proceed on their journey. When the
caravan is arrived at the journey’s end, the hives are
distributed in the gardens, or in the fields adjacent to
the houses of different peasants, who, for a very small
reward, undertake to look after them. Thus it is that,
in such spots as do not abound in flowers at all seasons,
means are found to supply the bees with food durino- the
whole year.
Ihese instances of the great advantages which attend
shifting of bees in search of pasture, afford an excellent
lesson to many places in this kingdom: they direct par¬
ticularly the inhabitants of the rich vales, where the
harvest for bees ends early, to remove their stocks to
places which abound in heath, this plant continuing in
bloom during a considerable part of autumn, and yield¬
ing great plenty of food to bees. Those in the neigh¬
bourhood of hills and mountains will save the bees a
great deal of labour, by taking also the advantage of
shifting their places of abode.
4* Of feeding and defending Bees in Winter. Provi¬
dence has ordained, that insects which feed on leaves,
flowers, and green succulent plants, are in an insensible
and torpid state from the time that the winter’s cold has
deprived them of the means of subsistence. Thus the
bees during the winter are in so lethargic a state, that
little food supports them : but as the weather is very
changeable, and every warm and sunny day revives
them, and prompts them to return to exercise, food be¬
comes necessary on these occasions.
Many hives of bees, which are thought to die of cold
in the winter, in truth die of famine j when a rainy
summer has hindered the bees from laying in a sufficient
store of provisions. The hives should therefore be care¬
fully examined in the autumn, and should then weigh at
least 18 pounds.
Columella describes an annual distemper which sei¬
zes bees in the spring, when the spurge blossoms, and
25 ] BEE
the elm discloses its seeds j for that, being allured by Bee.
the first flowers, they feed so greedily upon them, that' v—
they surfeit themselves, and die of a looseness, if they are
not speedily relieved.
T-he authors of the Maison Bustique impute this pur¬
ging to the bees feeding on pure honey, which does
not form a food sufficiently substantial for them, unless
they have bee-bread to eat at the same time j aud ad¬
vise giving them a honey-comb taken from another
hive, the cells of which are filled with crude wax or
bee-bread.
There is still, however, a want of experiments to as¬
certain both the time and the manner in which bees
should be fed. The common practice is to feed them in
the autumn, giving them as much honey as will bring
the whole weight of the hive to near 20 pounds. To
this end, the honey is diluted with water, and then put
into an empty comb, split reeds, or, as Columella di¬
rects, upon clean wool, which the bees will suck per¬
fectly dry. But the dilution with water makes the ho¬
ney apt to be candied, and honey in that state is preju¬
dicial to bees.
Ihe following directions given in the Maison JRu-Tom. i.
stique seem to be very judicious. Replenish the weak P* 435*
hives in September with such a portion of combs full
of honey taken from other hives as shall be judged to
be a sufficient supply for them. In order to do this,
turn up the weak hive, after taking the precaution of
defending yourself with the smoke of rags, cut out the
empty combs, and put the full ones in their place j
where secure them with pieces of wood run across, in
such manner that they may not fall down when the
hive is returned to its place. The bees will soon fix
them more effectually. If this method be thought too
troublesome, set under the hive a plate of liquid ho¬
ney, unmixed with water, with straws laid across it,
and over these a paper pierced full of holes, through
which the bees will suck the honey without daubing
themselves. This should be done in cloudy or rainy
weather, when the bees stir least abroad j and the
hive should be covered, to protect the bees from rob¬
bers, who might be allured to it by the smell of the ho¬
ney.
Another circumstance which may render it very ne¬
cessary to feed the bees is, when several days of bad
weather ensue immediately after they have swarmed j
for then, being destitute of every supply beyond what
they carried with them, they maybe in great danger of
starving. In this case, honey should be given them in
proportion to the duration of the bad weather.
The degree of cold which bees can endure has not
been ascertained. We find that they live in the cold
parts of Russia, and often in hollow trees, without any
care being taken of them. Their hives are frequently
made of the bark of trees, which does not afford them
much protection from cold. Mr White, therefore, ju¬
diciously observes, that bees which stand on the north
side of a building whose height intercepts the sun’s
beams all the winter, will waste less of their provisions
(almost by half) than others which stand in the sun :
for coming seldom forth, they eat little j and yet in
the spring are as forward to work and swarm as those
which had twice as much honey in the autumn before.
The owner should, however, examine their state in the
winter j and if he finds, that, instead of being clustered
between
BEE
Uee,
3°
Methods of
taking the
honey and
the wax.
Common
method in
this coun¬
try.
* Vide Co.
lumella,
lib. ix.c.15
and Varro
de Re Ru-
stica, lib.
iii. c. 16.
3i
Greek me¬
thod of sha¬
ring the ho¬
ney with
the bees.
See Whee¬
ler's Jour,
ney into
Greece,
P 4 ft.
[ 5
between the combs, they fall down in numbers on the
stool or bottom of the hive, the hive should be carried
to a warmer place, where they will soon recover. He
must be cautious in returning them again to the cold,
lest the honey be candied.
Where the winters are extremely severe, the authors
of the Maison Rustique advise to lay on the bottom of
an old cask the depth of half a foot of very dry earth,
powdered and pressed down hard, and to set on this the
stool with the hive; then, to preserve a communication
with the air, which is absolutely necessary, to cut a hole
in the cask, opposite to the mouth of the hive, and place
a piece of reed, or of alder, made hollow, from the mouth
of the hive to the hole in the cask j and after this to
cover the hive with more of the same dry earth. If
there be any room to fear that the bees will not have
a sufficiency of food, a plate with honey, covered as be¬
fore directed, may be put under the hive. If the num¬
ber of hives be great, boxes may be made of deals nail¬
ed together, deep enough to contain the hives when
covered with dry earth. The bees will thus remain all
the winter free from any danger from cold, hunger, or
enemies.
5. Of taking the Honey and Wax. In this country it
is usual, in seizing the stores of these little animals, tu
rob them also of their lives. The common method
is, That when those which are doomed for slaughter
have been marked out (which is generally done in
September), a hole is dug near the hive, and a stick,
at the end of which is a rag that has been dipped
in melted brimstone, being stuck in that hole, the
rag is set on fire, the hive is immediately set over it,
and the earth is instantly thrown up all round, so
that none of the smoke can escape. In a quarter of
an hour, all the bees are seemingly dead; and they will
soon after be irrecoverably so, by being buried in the
earth that is returned back into the hole. By this last
means it is that they are ab-olutely killed ; for it has
been found by experiment, that all the bees which have
been affected only by the fume of the brimstone, reco¬
ver again, except such as have been singed or hurt
by the flame. Hence it is evident, that fume of
brimstone might be used for intoxicating the bees, with
some few precautions. The heaviest and the lightest
hives are alike treated in this manner : the former, be¬
cause they yield the most profit, with an immediate re¬
turn ; and the latter, because they would not be able
to survive the winter. Those hives which weigh from
15 to 20 pounds are thought to be the fittest for
keeping.
More humane and judicious methods were practised
by the ancients * ; and the following simple method is
at this day practised in Greece, degenerate as it is.
“ Mount Hymethus is celebrated for the best honey in
all Greece. This mountain was not less famous in times
past for bees and admirable honey; the ancients belie¬
ving that bees were first bred here, and that all other
bees were but colonies from this mountain ; which if so,
we assured ourselves that it must be from this part of
the mountain that the colonies were sent; both because
the honey here made is the best, and that here they
never destroy the bees. It is of a good consistence, of
a tair gold-colour, and the same quantity sweetens more
water than the like quantity of anv other doth. I no
sooner knew that they never destroy or impair the stock
Ret,
26 ] BEE
of bees in taking away their honey, but I was inquisi¬
tive to understand their method of ordering the bees ;
which being an art so worthy the knowledge of the cu¬
rious, 1 shall not think it beside the purpose, to relate
what I saw, and was informed of to that effect by such
as had skill in that place.
“ The hives they keep their bees in are made of wil¬
lows or osiers, fashioned like our common dust-baskets,
wide at top and narrow at the bottom, and plastered
with clay or loam within and without. They are set Plate >
as in fig. 1. with the wide end uppermost. The tops
are covered with broad flat sticks, which are also pla¬
stered over with clay ; and, to secure them from the
weather, they cover them with a tuft of straw, as we
do. Along each of these sticks, the bees fasten their
combs ; so that a comb may be taken out whole, with¬
out the least bruising, and with the greatest ease imagi¬
nable. To increase them in spring-time, that is in
March or April, until the beginning of May, they di¬
vide them ; first separating the sticks on which the
combs and bees are fastened, from one another, with a
knife : so, taking out the first comb and bees together
on each side, they put them into another basket, in the
same order as they were taken out, until they have
equally divided them. After this, when they are both
again accommodated with sticks and plastered, they set
the new basket in the place of the old one, and the old
one in some new place. And all this they do in the
middle of the day, at such time as the greatest part of
the bees are abroad ; who at their coming home, with¬
out much difficulty, by this means divide themselves
equally. This device hinders them from swarming and
flying away. In August, they take out their honey.
This they do in the day-time also, while they are
abroad ; the bees being thereby, say they, disturbed
least : at which time they take out the combs laden
with honey, as before ; that is, beginning at each out¬
side, and so taking away, until they have left only sudi
a quantity of combs, in the middle, as they judge will
be sufficient to maintain the bees in winter; sweeping
those bees that are on the combs into the basket again,
and then covering it with new sticks and plaster.”
The Greek method above related was introduced in¬
to France in I754> as we are informed by M. de Reau¬
mur and Du Hamel, in the memoirs of the Royal A-
cademy for that year, p. 331.
Attempts have been made in our own country to at¬
tain the desirable end of getting the honey and wax
without destroying the bees; the most approved of which
we shall now relate as concisely as possible.
Mr Thorley, in his Inquiry into the Nature, Order,Mr fhi
and Government of Bees, thinks colonies preferable to ley’s ob
hives, for the following reasons: First, The more cer-vallons
tain preservation of very many thousands of these use¬
ful creatures. Secondly, Their greater strength (which
consists in numbers), and consequently their greater
safety from robbers. Thirdly, Their greater wealth,
arising from the united labours of the greater number.
He tells us, that he has in some summers taken two
boxes filled with honey from one colony ; and yet suf¬
ficient store has been left for their maintenance during
the winter ; each box weighing 40 pounds. Add to
these advantages, the pleasure of viewing them, with
the greatest safety, at all seasons, even in their busiest
time of gathering, and their requiring a much less at¬
tendance
Ike.
Ion
Man
lie#
»ts _
oni,l Lid
netl.1 of
zL
if
SEE [ 527
tendance In swarming time. rI !je bees thus managed
—'are also more effectually secured from wet and cold,
from mice and other vermin.
His boxes are made of deal, which, being spongy,
sucks up the breath of the bees sooner than a more so¬
lid wood would do. Yellow dram-deal thoroughly sea¬
soned is the bent.
An octagon, being nearer to a sphere, is better than
a square form j for as the bees, in winter, lie m a round
body near the centre of the hive, a due heat is then
conveyed to all the out-parts, and the honey is kept
from candying.
Hie dimensions which iMr Thorley, after many years
experience, recommends for the boxes, are 10 inches
depth, and I 2 or 14 inches breadth in the inside. He
has tried boxes containing a bushel or more, but found
them not to answer the design like those of a lesser size.
The larger are much longer in filling j so that it is later
ere you come to reap the fruits of the labour of the bees:
nor is the honey there so good and fine, the effluvia even
of their own bodies tainting it.
The best and purest honey is that which is gathered
in the first five or six weeks : and in boxes of less di¬
mensions you may take, in a month or little more, pro¬
vided the season be favourable, a box full of the finest
honey.
rlhe top of the box should be made of an entire board
a full inch thick after it has been planed $ and it should
project on all sides at least an inch beyond the dimen¬
sions of the box. In the middle of this top there must
be a hole five inches square, for a communication be¬
tween the boxes j and this hole should be covered with
a sliding shutter, of deal or elm, running easily in a
groove over the back window. The eight pannels,
nine inches deep, and three quarters of an inch thick
when planed, are to be let into the top so far as to
keep them in their proper places ; to be secured at the
corners with plates of brass, and to be cramped with
wires at the bottom to keep them firm ; for the heat in
summer will try their strength. There should be a glass
window behind, fixed in a frame, with a thin deal-cover,
two small brass hinges, and a button to fasten it. This
window will be sufficient for inspecting the progress of
the bees. I wo brass handles, one on each side, are
necessary to lift up the box : these should be fixed in
witn two thin plates of iron, near three inches long, so
as to turn up and down, and put three inched below the
top-board, which is nailed close down with sprigs to
the other parts of the box.
I hose who choose a frame within, to which the bees
may fasten their combs, need only use a couple of deal
sticks of an inch square, placed across the box, and
supported by two pins of brass ; one an inch and a half
below the top, and the other two inches below it ; by
which means the combs will quickly find a rest. One
thing more, which perfects the work, is, a passage,
lour or five inches long, and less than half an inch
deep, for the bees to go in and out at the bottom of
the box.
1. In keeping bees in colonies, a house is necessary,
or at least a shed j without which the weather, espe¬
cially the heat of the sun, would soon rend the boxes
to pieces.
our house may he made of any boards you please,
but deal is the best. Of whatever sort the materials
] BEE
are, tne house must be painted, to secure it from the
weather.
The length of this house, we will suppose for six co¬
should be full 12 feet and a half, and each co¬
les.
lony should stand a foot distance from the other. It
should be three feet and a half high, to admit four boxes
one upon another ; but If only three boxes are employ¬
ed, two feet eight inches will be sufficient. Its breadth
in the inside should be two feet. The four corner-
posts should be made of oak, and well fixed in the
giound, that no stormy winds may overturn it } and
all the rails should be of oak, supported by several up¬
rights of the same, before and behind, that they may
not yield or sink under 6, J, or 8 cwt. or upwards. The
floor ol the house (about two feet from the ground)
should be strong and smooth, that the lowest box may
stand close to it.
This floor may be made with hoards or planks of
deal the full length of the bee-house ; or, which is pre¬
ferable, with a board or plank to each colony, of two
feet four inches long, and fixed down to the rails ; and
that part which appears at the front of the house may¬
be cut into a semicircle, as a proper alighting place for
the bees. Plane it to a slope, that the wet may fall off.
\\hen this floor to a single colony wants to be repaired,
it may easily be removed, and another be placed in its
room, without disturbing the other colonies, or touching
any other part of the floor.
Upon this floor, at equal distances, all your colonies
must be placed against a door or passage cut in the
front of the house.
Only observe farther, to prevent any false step, that
as the top-board of the box (being a full inch broader
than the other part) will not permit the two mouths
to come together, you must cut a third in a piece of
deal of a sufficient breadth, and place it between the
other two, so close that not a bee mav get that way
into the house. And fixing the said piece of deal down
to the floor with two lath-nails, you will find after¬
wards to be of service, when you have occasion either
to raise a colony, or take a box of honey, and may
prove a means of preventing a great deal of trouble and
mischief.
The house being in this forwardness, you may cover
it to your own mind, with boards, fine slates, or tiles.
But contrive their position so as to carry off the wet,
and keep out the cold, rain, snow, or whatever might
any way hurt and prejudice them.
The back-doors may be made of half-inch deal, two
of them to shut close in a rabbet, cut in an upright pil¬
lar, which may be so contrived as to take in and out, by
a mortise in the bottom rail, and a notch in the inside
of the upper rail, and fastened with a strong hasp. Place
these pillars in the spaces between the colonies.
Concluding your house made after this model, with¬
out front-doors, a weather-board will be very necessary
to carry the water off from the places where the bees
settle and rest.
Good painting will be a great preservative. Forget
not to paint the mouths of your colonies with different
colours, as red, white, blue, yellow, &c. in form of a
half-moon, or square, that the bees may the better
know their own home. Such diversity will be a di¬
rection to them.
Thus your bees are kept warm in the coldest winter;
and
Bee.
BEE [ 528 ] BEE
Bee* and in the hottest summer greatly refreshed by the cool
“"v ' air, the back doors being set open without any air¬
holes made in the boxes.
Dr Warden observes, that in June, July, and Au¬
gust, when the colonies come to be very full, and the
weather proves very hot, the appearance of a shower
drives the bees home in such crowds, that pressing to
get in, they stop the passage so close, that those with¬
in are almost suffocated for want of air ; which makes
these last so uneasy, that they are like mad things. In
this extremity, he has lifted the whole colony Up a little
on one side j and by thus giving them air, has soon
quieted them. He has known them, he says, come
pouring out, on such an occasion, in numbers sufficient
to have filled at once two or three quarts $ as if they
had been going to swarm. To prevent this inconve¬
nience, he advises cutting a hole two inches square in
about the middle of one of the hinder pannels of each
box. Over this hole, nail, in the inside of the box, a
piece of tin-plate punched full of holes so small that a
bee cannot creep through them } and have over it, on
the outside, a very thin slider, made to run in grooves j
so that, when it is thrust home, all may be close and
warm ; and when it is opened, in very hot weather, the
air may pass through the hole, and prevent the suffo¬
cating heat. Or holes may be bored in the pannels
themselves, on such an emergency, in a colony already
settled.
Such a thorough passage for the air may be conve¬
nient in extreme heat, which is sometimes so great as
to make the honey run out of the combs. The Me¬
moirs of the truly laudable Berne Society, for the year
1764, give us a particular instance of this, when they
say, that, in 1761, many in Switzerland were obliged
to smother their bees, when they saw the honey and
wax trickling down ; not knowing any other remedy
for the losses they daily sustained. Some shaded these
hives from the sun, or covered them with cloths wet
several times a-day, and watered the ground all a-
round.
The best time to plant the colonies is either in
spring with new stocks full of bees, or in summer with
swarms. If swarms are used, procure, if possible, two
of the same day : hive them either in twm boxes or in
a hive and a box : at night, place them in the bee-
house, one over the other; and with a knife and a lit¬
tle lime and hair stop close the mouth of the hive
or upper box, so that not a bee may be able to go
in or out but at the front door. This done, you will
in a week or ten days with pleasure see the combs
appear in the boxes; but if it be a hive, nothing can
be seen till the bees have wrought down into the
box. Never plant a colony with a single swarm, as
Mr Thorley says he has sometimes done, but with lit¬
tle success.
When the second box, or the box under the hive,
appears full of bees and combs, it is time to raise your
colony. This should he done in the dusk of the even¬
ing, and in the following manner:
Place your empty box, with the sliding shutter
drawn back, behind the house, near the colony that is
to be raised, and at nearly the height of the floor: then
lifting up the colony with what expedition you can,
let the empty box be put in the place where it is to
stand, and the colony upon it; and shut up the mouth
of the then upper box with lime and hair, as before iEj
directed. 1 ^'
When, by the help of the windows in the back of
the boxes, you find the middle box full of combs, and
a quantity of honey sealed up in it, the lowest box half
full of combs, and few bees in the uppermost box, pro¬
ceed thus :
About five o’clock ifi the afternoon, drive close with
a mallet the sliding shutter under the hive or box that
is to be taken from the colony. If the combs are new,
the shutter may be forced home without a mallet; but
be sure it be close, that no bees mayr ascend into the
hive or box to be removed. After this shut close the
doors of your house, and leave the bees thus cut off
from the rest of their companions for the space of half
an hour or more. In this space of time, having lost
their queen, they will fill themselves withTioney, and
be impatient to be set at liberty.
If, in this interval, you examine the box or boxes
beneath, and observe all to be quiet in them, you may
be confident that the queen is there, and in safety.
Hereupon raise the back part of the hive or box so far,
by a piece of wood slipped under it, as to give the pri¬
soners room to come out, and they will return to their
fellows : then lifting the box from off the colony, and
turning its bottom upmost, cover it with a cloth all
night ; and the next morning, when this cloth is remo¬
ved, the bees that have remained in it will return to the
colony. Thus you have a hive or box of honey, and
all your bees safe.
If the bees do not all come out in this manner, Dr
Warder’s method may be followed, especially if it be
with a hive. It is to place the hive with the small end
downward in a pail, peck, or flower pot, so as to make
it stand firm : then to take an empty hive, and set it
upon the former, and to draw a cloth tight round the
joining of the two hives, so that none of the bees may
be able to get out : after this, to strike the full hive so
smartly as to disturb the bees that are in it, but with
such pauses between the strokes as to allow them time
to ascend into the empty hive, which must be held fast
while this is doing, lest it fall off by the shaking of
the other. When you perceive, by the noise of the
bees in the upper hive, that they are got into this last,
carry it to a cloth spread for this purpose before the
colony, with one end fastened to the landing-place,
and knock them out upon it: they will soon crawl up
the cloth, and join their fellows, who will gladly receive
them.
Mr Thorley next gives an account of his narcotic,
and of the manner of using it.
The method which he has pursued with great suc¬
cess for many years, and which he recommends to the
public as the most effectual for preserving bees in com¬
mon hives, is incorporation, or uniting two stocks into
one, by the help of a peculiar fume or opiate, which
will put them entirely in your power for a time to di¬
vide and dispose of at pleasure. But as that dominion
over them will be of short duration, you must be expe¬
ditious in this business.
The queen is immediately to be searched for, and
killed. Hives which have swarmed twice, and are con¬
sequently reduced in their numbers, are the fittest to
be joined together, as this will greatly strengthen and
improve them. If a hive which you would take is
BEE
gee. both rich in honey anil full of bees, it is but dividing
the bees into two parts, and putting them into two
boxes instead of one. Examine whether the stock to
which you intend to join the bees of another have ho¬
ney enough in it to maintain the bees of both : it should
weigh full 10 pounds.
The narcotic, or stupifying fume, is made with the
fungus maximus or pulvcrulentus, the large mushroom,
commonly known by the name of bunt, puckjist, or
frogcheese. It is as big as a man’s head, or bigger $
when ripe, it is of a brown colour, turns to powder, and
is exceeding light. Put one of these pucks into a large
paper, press it therein to two-thirds or near half the
bulk of its former size, and tie it up very close j then
put it into an oven some time after the household bread
has been drawn, and let it remain there all night; when
it is dry enough to hold fire, it is fit for use. The man¬
ner of using it is thus :
Cut off a piece of the puck, as large as a hen’s egg,
and fix it in the end of a small stick slit for that pur¬
pose, and sharpened at the other end ; which place so
that the pluck may hang near the middle of an empty
hive. This hive must be set with the mouth upward,
in a pail or bucket, which should hold it steady, near
the stock you intend to take. This done, set fire to
the puck, and immediately place the stock of bees
over it, tying a cloth round the hives, that no smoke
may come forth. In a minute’s time, or little more,
yon will hear the bees fall like drops of hail into the
empty hive. You may then beat the top of the full
hive gently with your hand, to get out as many of them
as you can: after this, loosing the cloth, lift the hive
off to a table, knock it several times against the table,
several more bees will tumble out, and perhaps the
queen among them. She often is one of the last that
falls. If she is not there, search for her among the
main body in the empty hive, spreading them for this
purpose on a table.
You must proceed in the same manner with the other
hive, with the bees of which these are to be united.
One of the queens being secured, you must put the
bees of both hives together, mingle them thoroughly,
and drop them among the combs of the hive which
they are intended to inhabit. When they are all in,
cover it with a packing or other coarse cloth which will
admit air, and let them remain shut up all that night
and the next day. You will soon be sensible that they
are awakened from this sleep.
The second night after their union, in the dusk of
the evening, gently remove the cloth from off the mouth
of the hive (taking care of yourself), and the bees will
immediately sally forth with a great noise 5 but being
too late, they will soon return : then inserting two
pieces of tobacco-pipes to let in air, keep them confined
for three or four days, alter which the door may be left
open.
The best time for uniting bees is, after their young
brood are all out, and before they begin to lodge in
the empty cells. As to the hour of the day, he ad¬
vises young practitioners to do it early in4the afternoon,
in order that having the longer light they may the
more easily find out the queen. He never knew such
combined stocks conquered by robbers. They will ei¬
ther swarm in the next summer, or yield a hive full of
honey.
Vol. III. Part II. t
BEE
Mr N. Thornley, son of the above-mentioned clergy- Bee.
man, has added to the editioa which he has given of his 1 v-—->
father’s book, a postscript, purporting, that persons 34
who choose to keep bees in glass-hives may, after un'j1jv^gS'
covering the hole at the top of a flat-topped straw-hive,
or box, place the glass over it so close that no bee can
go in or out but at the bottom of the hive or box.
The glass-hive must be covered with an empty hive or
with a cloth, that too much light may not prevent the
bees from working. As soon as they have filled the
straw-hive or box, they will begin to work up into the
glass-hive. He tells us, that he himself has had one of
these glass-hives filled by the bees in 30 days in a fine
season j and that it contained 38 pounds of fine honey.
When the glass is completely filled, slide a tin-plate
between it and the hive or box, so as to cover the pas¬
sage, and in half an hour the glass may be taken off
with safety. What few bees remain in it, will readily
go to their companions. He has added a glass win¬
dow to his straw-hives, in order to see what progress
bees make ; which is of some importance, especially if
one hive is to be taken away whilst the season still con¬
tinues favourable for their collecting honey ; for when
the combs are filled with honey, the cells are sealed up,
and the bees forsake them, and reside mostly in the
hive in which their works are chiefly carried on. Ob¬
serving also that the bees were apt to extend their combs
through the passage of communication in the upper hive,
whether glass or other, which rendered it necessary to
divide the comb when the upper hive was taken away,
he now puts in that passage a wire screen or netting, the
meshes of which are large enough for a loaded bee to go
easily through them. This prevents the joining of the
combs from one box to the other, and consequently ob¬
viates the necessity of cutting them, and of spilling some
of the honey, which running down among a crowd of
bees, used before to incommode them much, it being
difficult for them to clear their wings of it. Fig. 2. is Plate X€.
a drawing of one of his colonies. 35
2. The reverend Mr White informs us, that his Of bees ia
fondness for these little animals soon put him upon en"
deavouring if possible to save them from fire and brim- takjng tiie;r
stone ; that he thought he had reason to be content to honey and
share their labours for the present, and great reason towax*
rejoice if he could at any time preserve their lives, to
work for him another year ; and that the main drift of
his observations and experiments has hitherto been, to
discover an easy and cheap method, suited to the abili¬
ties of the common people, of taking away so much
honey as can be spared, without destroying or starving
the bees ; and by the same means to encourage season¬
able swarms.
In his directions how to make the bee-boxes of his
inventing, he tells us, speaking of the manner of con¬
structing a single one, that it may be made of deal or any
other well-seasoned boards which are not apt to warp or
split. The boards should be near an inch thick ; the
figure of the box square, and its height and breadth
nine inches and five-eighths, every way, measuring
within. With these dimensions it will contain near a
peck and a half. The front part must have a door
cut in the middle of the bottom edge, three inches
wide, and near half an inch in height, which will give
free liberty to the bees to pass through, yet not be large
enough for their enemy the mouse to enter. In the
3 X back
[ S29 ]
BEE [ 530 ] BEE
Bee. back part you must cut a hole with a rabbet in it, in
—v'— which you are to fix a pane of the clearest and best
crown-glass, about five inches in length, and three in
breadth, and fasten it with putty j let the top of the
glass be placed as high as the roof, withinside, that you
may see the upper part of the combs, where the bees
with their riches are mostly placed. You will by this
means be better able to judge of their state and strength,
than if your glass was fixed in the middle. The glass
must be covered with a thin piece of board, by way of
shutter, which may be made to hang by a string, or turn
upon a nail, or slide sidewise between two mouldings.
Such as are desirous of seeing more of the bees works,
may make the glass as large as the box will admit
without weakening it too much ; or they may add a
pane of glass on the top, which must likewise be cover¬
ed with a shutter, fastened down with pegs, to prevent
accidents.
The side of the box which is to be joined to another
box of the same form and dimensions, as it will not be
exposed to the internal air, may be made of a piece of
slit deal not half an inch thick. This he calls the side
of co77imunication, because it is not to be wholly enclo¬
sed : a space is to be left at the bottom the whole
breadth of the box, and a little more than an irlch in
height ; and a hole or passage is to be made at top,
three inches long, and more than half an inch wide.
Through these the bees are to have a communication
from one box to the other. The lower communication
being on the floor, our labourers, with their burdens,
may readily and easily ascend into either of the boxes.
The upper communication is only intended as a passage
between the boxes, resembling the little holes or nar¬
row passes, which may be observed in the combs form¬
ed by our sagacious architects, to save time and shorten
the way when they have occasion to pass from one comb
to another j just as in populous cities, there are narrow
lanes and alleys passing transversely from one large
street to another.
In the next place you are to provide a loose board,
half an inch thick, and large enough to cover the side
where you have made the communications. You are
likewise to have in readiness several little iron staples,
an inch and half long, with the two points or end
bended down more than half an inch. The use of these
will be seen presently.
You have now only to fix two sticks crossing the box
from side to side, and crossing each other, to be a stay
to the combs j one about three inches from the bot¬
tom, the other the same distance from the top 5 and
when you have painted the whole, to make it more du¬
rable, your box is finished.
The judicious bee-master will here observe, that the
form of the box now described is as plain as possible
for it to be. It is little more than five square pieces of
board nailed together j so that a poor cottager who has
but ingenuity enough to saw a board into the given
dimensions, and to drive a nail, may nmke his own
boxes well enough, without the help or ex pence of a
carpenter.
No directions are necessary for making the other
box, which must be of the same form and dimensions.
The two boxes differ from each other only in this, that
the side of communication of the one must be on your
right hand j of the other on your left. Fig. 3. repre¬
sents two of these boxes, with their openings of commu-
nication, ready to join to each other.
Mr White’s manner of hiving a swarm into one or
both of these boxes is thus :
You are to take the loose board, and fasten it to one
of the boxes, so as to stop the communications. This
may be done by three of the staples before mentioned;
one on the top of the box near the front j the two
others on the back, near the top and near the bottom.
Let one end of the staple be thrust into a gimlet-hole
made in the box, so that the other end may go as tight
as can be over the loose board, to keep it from slipping
when it is handled. The next morning after the bees
have been hived in this box, the other box should be
added, and the loose board should be taken away. This
will prevent a great deal of labour to the bees, and some
to the proprietor.
Be careful to. fasten the shutter so close to the glass
that no light may enter through it j for the bees seem
to look upon such a light as a hole or breach in their
house, and on that account may not so well like their
new habitation. But the principal thing to be obser¬
ved at this time is, to cover the box as soon as the bees
are hived with a linen cloth thrown closely over it, or
with green boughs to protect it from the piercing heat
of the sun. Boxes will admit the heat much sooner
than straw-hives 5 and if the bees find their house too
hot for them, they will be wise enough to leave it. If
the swarm be larger than usual, instead of fastening the
loose board to one box, you may join two boxes toge¬
ther with three staples, leaving the communication open
from one to the other, and then hive your bees into
both. In all other respects, they are to be hived in
bcxes after the same manner as in common hives.
The door of the second box should be carefully stop¬
ped up, and be kept constantly closed, in order that the
bees may not have an entrance but through the first
box.
When the boxes are set in the places where they are
to remain, they must be screened from the summer’s
sun, because the wood will otherwise be heated to a
greater degree than either the bees or their works can
bear j and they should likewise be screened from the
winter’s sun, because the warmth of this will draw the
bees from that lethargic state which is natural to them,
as well as many other insects, in the winter season. For
this purpose, and also to shelter the boxes from rain, our
ingenious clergyman has contrived the following frame.
Fig. 4. represents the front of a frame for twelve co¬
lonies : a, a, are two cells of oak lying flat on the ground
more than four feet long. In these cells are fixed four
oaken posts, about the thickness of such as are used for
drying linen. The two posts bt b, in the front, are
about six feet two inches above the cells : the other
two, standing backward, five feet eight inches. You
are next to nail some boards of slit deal horizontally
from one of the fore-posts to the other, to screen the
bees from the sun. Let these boards be seven feet Severn
inches in length, and nailed to the inside of the posts }
and be well seasoned that they may not shrink or gape
in the joints, c, c. Are two splints of deal, to keep the
boards even, and strengthen them.
Fig. 5. represents the back of the frame. J, d, d, </,
Are four strong boards of the same length with the
frame on which you are to place the boxes. Let the
upper
BEE J 5
upper side of them be very smooth and even, that the
boxes may stand true upon them : or it may be still
more advisable, to place under every pair of boxes a
smooth thin board, as long as the boxes, and about a
quarter of an inch wider. The bees will soon fasten the
boxes to this board in such a manner that you may move
or weigh the boxes and board together, without break¬
ing the wax or resin, which for many reasons ought to
be avoided. These floors must be supported by pieces
of wood or bearers, which are nailed from post to post
at each end. They are likewise to be well nailed to the
frame, to keep them from sinking with the weight of
the boxes, y’Represents the roof, which projects back¬
ward about seven or eight inches beyond the boxes, to
shelter them from rain. \ ou have now only to cut
niches or holes in the frame, over against each mouth
or entrance into the boxes, at //, A, A, in fig. 4. Let
these niches be near four inches long; and under each
you must nail a small piece of wood for the bees to
alight upon. The morning or evening sun will shine
upon one or both ends of the frame, let its aspect be
what it will : but you may prevent its overheating the
boxes, by a loose board set up between the posts, and
kept in by two or three pegs.
The same gentleman, with great humanity, observes,
that no true lover of bees ever lighted the fatal match
without much concern : and that it is evidently more
to our advantage to spare the lives of our bees, and be
content with part of their stores, than to kill and take
possession of the whole.
About the latter end of August, says he, by a little
inspection through your glasses, you may easily disco¬
ver which of your colonies you may lay under contri¬
bution. Such as have filled a box and a half with
their works, will pretty readily yield you the half box.
But you are not to depend upon the quantity of combs,
without examining how they are stored with honey.
The bees should, according to him, have eight or nine
pounds left them, by way of wages for their summer’s
work.
The most proper time for this business is the middle
of the day ; and as you stand behind the frame, you
will need no armour, except a pair of gloves. The
operation itself is very simple and easily performed,
thus: Open the mouth of the box you intend to take ;
then with a thin knife cut through the resin with
which the bees have joined the boxes to each other, till
you find that you have separated them ; and after this,
thrust a sheet of tin gently in between the boxes. The
communication being hereby stopped, the bees in the
fullest box, where it is most likely the queen is, will be
a little disturbed at the operation ; but those in the
other box where we suppose the queen is not, will run
to and fro in the utmost hurry and confusion, and
send forth a mournful cry, easily distinguished from
their other notes. They will issue out at the newly
opened door; not in a body as when they swarm, nor
with such calm and cheerful activity as when they go
forth to their labours ; but by one or two at a time,
with a wild flutter and visible rage and disorder. This,
however, is soon over : for as soon as they get abroad
and spy their fellows, they fly to them instantly and
join them at the mouth of the other box. By this
means, in an hour or two, for they go out slowly, you
will have a box of pure honey, without leaving a bee
;i 3 B E E
in it to molest you ; and likewise without dead bees, i;ce.
which, when you burn them, are often mixed with your v—"**v
honey, and both waste and damage it.
Mr White acknowledges, that he has sometimes
found this method fail, when the mouth of the box to
be taken away has not. been constantly and carefully
closed : the bees will in this case get acquainted with
it as an entrance; and when you open the mouth in
order to their leaving this box, many of them will be
apt to return, and the communication being stopped)
will in a short time carry away all the honey from this
to the other box ; so much do they abhor a separation.
When this happens, he has recourse to the following
expedient, which he thinks infallible. He takes a piece
of deal, a little larger than will cover the mouth of the
box, and cuts in it a square niche somewhat more than
half an inch wide. In this niche he hangs a little trap¬
door, made of a thin piece of tin, turning upon a pin,
with another pin crossing the niche a little lower, so as
to prevent the hanging door from opening both ways.
This being placed close to the mouth, the bees 'which
want to get out will easily thrust open the door out¬
wards, but cannot open it the other way to get it again ;
so must, and will readily, make to the other box, leav¬
ing this in about the space of two hours, with all its
store, justly due to the tender-hearted bee-master as a
ransom for their lives.
What led Mr White to prefer collateral boxes to
those before in use, was, to use his own words, his
“ compassion for the poor bees, who, after traversing
the fields, return home weary and heavy laden, and
must perhaps deposit their burden up two pair of stairs,
or in the garret. The lower room, it is likely, is not
yet furnished with stairs : for, as is well known, our
little architects lay the foundation of their structures
at the top and build downward. In this case, the
weary little labourer is to drag her load up the sides
of the walls: and when she has done this, she will tra¬
vel many times backward and forward, as I have fre¬
quently seen, along the roof, before she finds the door
or passage into the second story ; and here again she is
perplexed with a like puzzling labyrinth, before she
gets into the third. Wbat a waste is here of that pre¬
cious time which our bees value so much, and which
they employ so well! and what an expence of strength
and spirits, on which their support and sustenance de¬
pend ! In the collateral boxes, the rooms are all on
the ground floor ; and because I know my bees are
w’ise enough to value convenience more than state, I
have made them of such a moderate, though decent,
height, that the bees have much less way to climb to
the top of them than they have to the crown of a com¬
mon hive.” 36
Mr Wildman’s hives have been already described Of the ma-
(N° 23, 24.). A good swarm will soon fill one of these naSen,ept
hives, and therefore another hive may be put under it
the next morning. The larger space allowed the beesman’s],ives>
will excite their industry in filling them with combs.
The queen will lay some eggs in the upper hive; but
so soon as the lower hive is filled with combs, she will
lay most of them in it. In little more than three weeks,
all the eggs laid in the upper hive will be turned into
bees; and if the season is favourable, their cells will be
soon filled with honey.
As soon as they want room, a third hive should be
3X2 placed
BEE [ 532 ] v B E E
Bee. placed under the two former ; and in a few days after
•~v~—' the end of three weeks from the time the swarm was
put into the. hive, the top hive may be taken away at
noon of a fair day •, and if any bees remain in it, carry
it to a little distance from the stand, and turning its
bottom up, and striking it on the sides, the bees will be
alarmed, take wing, and join their companions in the
second and third hives. If it is found that the bees are
very umvilling to quit it, it is probable that the queen
remains among them. In this case, the bees must be
treated in the manner that shall be directed when we
describe Mr Wildman’s method of taking the honey
and the wax. The upper hive now taken away should
be put in a cool place, in which no vermin, mice, &c.
can come at the combs, or other damage can happen to
them, and be thus preserved in reserve.
When the hives seem to be again crowded, and the
upper hive is well stored or filled with honey, a fourth
hive should be placed under the third, and the upper
hive he taken oflf the next fair day at noon, and treated
as already directed. As the honey made during the
summer is the best, and as it is needless to keep many
full hives in store, the honey may be taken out of the
combs of this second hive for use.
If the season is very favourable, the bees may still fill
a third hive. In this case, a fifth hive must be put un¬
der the fourth, and the third taken away as before. The
bees will then fill the fourth for their winter store.
As the honey of the first hive is better than the bo¬
ny collected so late as that in the third, the honey may
be taken cut of the combs of the first, and the third
may be preserved with the same care as directed for
that.
In the month of September, the top hive should he
examined ; if full, it will be a sufficient provision for
the winter; but if light, that is, not containing 20
pounds of honey, the more the better, then, in the
month of October, the fifth hive should be taken away,
and the hive kept in reserve should be put upon the re¬
maining one, to supply the bees with abundant provi¬
sions for the winter. Nor need the owner grudge them
this ample store; for they are faithful stewards, and will
be proportionally richer and more forward in the spring
and summer, when he will reap an abundant profit.
The fifth hive which was taken away should be careful¬
ly preserved during the winter, that it may be restored
to the same stock of bees, when an additional hive is
wanted next summer ; or the first swarm that comes off
may be put into it. The combs in it, if kept free from
filth and vermin, will save much labour, and they will
at once go to the collecting of honey.
It is almost needless to observe, that when the hives
are changed, a cover, as already directed (see N° 23.)
should be put upon every upper hive; and that when a
lower hive becomes an upper hive, the door of it should
be shut up, that so their only passage out shall be by the
lower hive; for otherwise the queen would be apt to lay
eggs in both indiscriminately. The whole of the above
detail of the management of one hive may be extended
to any number; it may be proper to keep a register to
each set; because, in restoring hives to the bees, they
may be better pleased at receiving their own labours
than that of other stocks.
If in the autumn the owner has some weak hives,
which have neither provision nor number sufficient for
3
the winter, it is advisable to join the bees to richer
hives : for the greater number of bees will be a mutual i-- t '_j
advantage to one another during the winter, and ac¬
celerate their labours much in the spring. For this pur¬
pose, carry a poor and a richer hive into a room a little
before night: then force the bees out of both hives into
two separate empty hives, in a manner that shall be
hereafter directed : shake upon a cloth the bees out of
the hive which contains the fewest ; search for the
queen ; and as soon as you have secured her with a suf¬
ficient retinue, bring the other hive which contains the
greater number, and place it on the cloth on Avhich the
other bees are, with a support under one side, and with
a spoon shovel the bees under it. They will soon ascend;
and, while under this impression of fear, will unite
peaceably with the other bees; whereas, had they been
added to the bees of the richer hive, while in possession
of their castle, many of the new-comers must have paid
with their lives for their intrusion.
It appears from the account of the management of
bees in Mr Wildman’s hives, that there is very little
art wanting to cause the bees to quit the hives which
are taken away, unless a queen happens by chance to
be among them. In that case, the same means may be
used as are necessary when we would rob one of the
common hives of part of their wealth. The method is
as follows: ^
Remove the hive from which you would take the Hi* meths
wax and honey into a room, into which admit butoftaklI,S
little light, that it may at first appear to the bees as^^M
if it was late in the evening. Gently invert the hive,
placing it between the frames of a chair or other steady
support, and cover it with an empty hive, keeping that
side of the empty hive raised a little, which is next the
window, to give the bees sufficient light to get up in¬
to it. While you hold the empty hive, steadily sup¬
ported on the edge of the full hive, between your side
and your left arm, keep striking with the other hand
all round the full hive from top to bottom, in the man¬
ner of beating a drum, so that the bees may be fright¬
ened by the continued noise from all quarters ; and
they will in consequence mount out of the full hive in¬
to the empty one. Repeat the strokes rather quick
than strong round the hive, till all the bees are got out
of it, which in general will be in about five minutes. It
is to be observed, that the fuller the hive is of bees, the
sooner they will have left it. As soon as a number of
them have got into the empty hive, it should be raised
a little from the full one, that the bees may not conti¬
nue to run from the one to the other, but rather keep
ascending upon one another.
So soon as all the bees are out of the full hive, the
hive in which the bees are must be placed on the stand
from which the other hive was taken, in order to receive
the absent bees as they return from the fields.
If this is done early in the season, the operator
should examine the royal cells, that any of them that
have young in them may be saved, as well as the combs
which have young bees in them, which should on no
account be touched, though by sparing them a good
deal of honey be left behind. Then take out the other
combs with a long, broad, and pliable knife, such as
the apothecaries make use of. The combs should be
cut from the sides and crown as clean as possible, to
save the future labour of the bees, who must lick up
the
BEE.
PLATE LXXX1X.
Fuj.JI
■mm
ask.
ississ
^SSBSSSSr
jiglgjjiii#
Rrff'ScuTj't
PLATE XC
Fig t
BEE.
Fig A.
BIRD CAT C IIIX O.
Fig. o'.
Fig. 1
J'.itif '! by irX'/^. bi:<irs K.hnV
BEE
Bee the honey spilt, and remove every remain of wax,
jj and then the sides of the hive should be scraped with
ecil'°^‘i a table spoon to clear away what was left by the knife.
During the whole of this operation, the hive should be
placed inclined to the side from which the combs are
taken, that the honey which is spilt may not daub the
remaining combs. If some combs were unavoidably
taken away, in which there are young bees, the parts
of the combs in which they are should be returned into
the hive, and secured by sticks in the best manner pos¬
sible. Place the hive then for some time upright, that
any remaining honey may drain out. If the combs are
built in a direction opposite to the entrance, or at right
angles with it, the combs which are the farthest from
the entrance are to be preferred ; because there they are
best stored with honey, and have the fewest young; bees
in them.
Having thus finished taking the wax and honey, the
next business is to return the bees to their old hive ;
and for this purpose place a table covered with a clean
cloth near the stand, and giving the hive in which the
bees are a sudden shake, at the same time striking it
pretty forcibly, the bees will be shaken on the cloth.
Put their own hive over them immediately, raised a
little on one side, that the bees may the more easily en¬
ter j and when all are entered, place it on the stand as
before. If the hive in which the bees are be turned
bottom uppermost, and their own hive be placed over
it, the bees will ascend into it, especially if the lower
hive is struck on the sides to alarm them.
As the chief object of the bees during the spring and
beginning of the summer is the propagation of their
kind, honey during that time is not collected in such
quantity as it is afterwards : and on this account it is
scarcely worth while to rob a hive before the latter end
ot June j nor is it safe to ¥.0 it after the middle of July,
lest rainy weather may prevent their restoring the combs
they have lost, and laying in a stock of honey sufficient
for the winter, unless there is a chance of carrying them
to a rich pasture. See the article Bee in the Supple¬
ment.
Bee is also used figuratively to denote sweetness, in¬
dustry, &c. Thus Xenophon is called the Attic Bee,
on account of the great sweetness of his style. Antonius
got the denomination Melissa or Bee, on account of his
collection of common places.—Leo Allatius gave the
appellation apes vrbance to the illustrious men at Rome,
from the year 1630 to the year 1632.
BjEe^s-Bread. See Bee, N° i 2. par. alt.
BEE-Bater. See Merops, Ornithology Index.
BEE-Flower. See Ophrys, Botany Index.
Bee-Glue, called by the ancients propolis, is a soft,
unctuous, glutinous matter, employed by bees to ce¬
ment the combs to the hives, and to close up the cells.
See Bee, N° 13.
BEE-Hives. See Bee, N° 19, 34, 36.
BEECH-tree. See Fagus, Botany Index.
Beech-Mast, the fruit of the beech-tree, said to be
good for fattening hogs, deer, &c.—It has sometimes,
even to men, proved an useful substitute for bread.
Chios is said to have endured a memorable siege by
means of it.
Beech-Oil, an oil drawn by expression from the mast
of the beech-tree, after it has been shelled and pounded.
This oil is very common in Picardy, and used there
[ 533 ]
BEE
and in other parts of France instead of butter ; but most Becch-oil
of those who take a great deal of it complain of pains ||
and a heaviness in the stomach. Beer.
BEEF, the flesh of black-cattle prepared for food.
According to Dr Cullen*, beef, though of a more firm * Led. on
texture and less soluble than mutton, is equally alka-
lescent, perspirable, and nutritious : and if in the south¬
ern countries it is not esteemed so, it is on account of
its imperfection there.
BEELE, a kind of pick-axe, used by the miners
for separating the ores from the rocks in which they
lie ; this instrument is called a lubber by the miners of
Cornwall.
BEER, is a spirituous liquor made from any fari¬
naceous grain, but generally from barley. It is, pro¬
perly speaking, the wine of barley. The meals of any
of these grains being extracted by a sufficient quantity
of water, and remaining at rest in a degree of heat re¬
quisite for the spirituous fermentation, naturally under¬
go this fermentation, and are changed into a vinous li¬
quor. But as all these matters render the water mu¬
cilaginous, fermentation proceeds slowly and imper¬
fectly in such liquors. On the other side, if the quan¬
tity of farinaceous matter be so diminished that its ex¬
tract or decoction may have a convenient degree of
fluidity, this liquor will be impregnated with so small
a quantity of fermentable matter, that the beer or
wine of the grain will be too weak, and have too little
taste.
Ihese inconveniences are remedied by preliminary
operations which the grain is made to undergo.—These
preparations consist in steeping it in cold water, that it
may soak and swell to a certain degree j and in laying
it in a heap with a suitable degree of heat, by means
of which, and of the imbibed moisture, a germination
begins, which is to be stopped by a quick drying, as
soon as the bud shows itself. To accelerate this drying,
and render it more complete, the grain is slightly roast¬
ed, by making it pass down an inclined canal sufficient¬
ly heated. This germination, and this slight roasting,
changes considerably the nature of the mucilaginous
fermentable matter of the grain. The germination at¬
tenuates much, and in some measure totally destroys,
the viscosity of the mucilage ; and it does this, when
not carried too far, without depriving the grain of any
of its disposition to ferment. On the contrary, it
changes the grain into a saccharine substance, as mav
be perceived by mashing grains beginning to germi¬
nate. The slight roasting contributes also to attenuate
the mucilaginous fermentable matter of the grain. When
the grain is thus prepared, it is fit to be ground, and to
impregnate water with much of its substance without
forming a glue or viscous mass. The grain thus pre¬
pared is called malt. This malt is then to be ground ;
and all its substance, which is fermentable and soluble
in water, is to be extricated by means of hot water.
This extract or infusion is sufficiently evaporated by boil¬
ing, in caldrons ; and some plant of an agreeable bitter¬
ness, such as hops, is at that time added, to heighten
the taste of the beer, and to render it capable of being
longer preserved. Lastly, this liquor is put into casks,
and allowed to ferment ; nature performs the rest of
the work, and is only to be assisted by the other most
favourable circumstances for the spirituous fermentation.
See Fermentation.
Foreigners
B E F [ 5u ] BEG
Beer Foreigners have framed divers conjectures to account
11 for the excellency of the British beer, and its superio-
*jclolt‘ , rity to that of other countries, even of Bremen, Mons,
and Rostoch. It has been pretended our brewers
throw dead dogs flayed into their wort, and boil them
till the flesh is all consumed. Others, more equitable,
attribute the excellency of our beer to the quality of
our malt and water, and the skill of our brewers in pre¬
paring it.
Sour beer may be restored divers ways ; as by salt
made of the ashes of barley-straw, put into the vessel
and stirred j or by three or four handfuls of beech-
ashes thrown into the vessel, and stirred $ or, where the
liquor is not very sour, by a little put in a bag, with¬
out stirring $ chalk calcined, oyster-shells, egg-shells,
burnt sea-shells, crabs eyes, alkalized coral, &c. do
the same, as they imbibe the acidity, and unite with
it into a sweetness.—Beer, it is said, may be kept from
turning sour in summer, by hanging in the vessel a bag
containing a new-laid egg, pricked full of little pin¬
holes, some laurel-berries, and a few barley-grains ; or
by a new-laid egg and walnut-tree leaves. Glauber
commends his sal mirabile and fixed nitre, put in a li¬
nen bag, and hung on the top of the cask so as to reach
the liquor, not only for recovering sour beer, but pre¬
serving and strengthening it.
Laurel-berries, the skin being peeled olF, will keep
beer from deadness ; and beer already dead may be re¬
stored by impregnating it with fixed air.
Beer tasting of the cask may be freed from it by put¬
ting a handful of wheat in a bag, and hanging it in the
vessel.
BEEROTH, a village of Judea, situated at the foot
of Mount Gabaon, seven miles from ./Elia or Jerusalem,
on the road to Nicopolis (Jerome).
BEERSHEBA (Moses), a city to the south of the
tribe of Judah, adjoining to Idumea (Josephus). See
Bersabe.
BEESTINGS, or BreastinGS, a term used by
country-people for the first milk taken from a cow af¬
ter calving.—The beestings are of a thick consistence,
and yellow colour, seeming impregnated with sulphur.
Dr Morgan imagines them peculiarly fitted and intend¬
ed by nature to cleanse the young animal from the re¬
crements gathered in its stomach and intestines during
its long habitation in utero. The like quality and vir¬
tue he supposes in women’s first milk after delivery j
and hence infers the necessity of the mother’s suckling
her own child, rather than committing it to a nurse
whose first milk is gone.
BEET. See Beta, Botany Index.
BEETLE. See ScarABiEus, Entomology In¬
dex.
Beetle also denotes a wooden instrument for driv¬
ing piles, &c. It is likewise called a stamper, and by
paviors a rammer.
BEEVES, a general name for oxen. See Bos,
Mammalia Index.
BEFORT, a small town of France in the depart¬
ment of Upper Rhine. It was ceded to France by the
treaty of Westphalia in 1648. It contains nearly
5000 inhabitants, and is important on account of the
great road by this place from Franche Compte. The
fortifications were greatly augmented by Louis XIV.
2
It is seated at the foot of a mountain. E. Long. 6. 2. Befwt
N. Lat. 47. 38. _ , ^ 0
BEG, or Bey, in the Turkish affairs. See Bey. Beglerhejf
Beg is more particularly applied to the lord of a *1 ^
banner, called also in the same language sangiak-beg.
A beg has the command of a certain number of the
spahis, or horse, maintained by the province under the
denomination of timariots. All the begs of a pro¬
vince obey one governor-general, called begler-btg, or
beyler-beg, q. d. lord of lords or of the beys of the pro¬
vince.
Begs, or Beghs, of Egypt, denote twelve generals,
who had the command of the militia or standing forces
of the kingdom ; and were to secure the country from
the insults of Arabs, as well as to protect the pilgrims
in their annual expeditions to Mecca. They were for¬
merly very rich and powerful j but tbe Turkish Pasha
Ali, who has raised himself to independence in Egypt
since the expulsion of the French, has annihilated the
power of this class of officers.
BEGA, Cornelius, painter of landscape, cattle,
and conversations, was born at Haerlem in 1620, and
was the disciple of Adrian Ostade. Falling into a dis¬
sipated way of life, he was disinherited by his father :
for which reason he cast off his father’s name, which
was Begeyn, and assumed that of Bega : his early pic¬
tures being marked with the former, and his latter
works with the other. He had a fine pencil, and a
delicate manner of handling his colours, so as to give
them a look of neatness and transparence ; and his per¬
formances are so much esteemed in the Low Countries,
as to be placed among the works of the best artists.
He caught the plague from a woman with whom he was
deeply enamoured j and he showed so much sincerity
of affection, that notwithstanding the expostulations of
all his friends and physician?, he would attend her to
the last moments of her life, and died a few days after,
aged 44.
BEGGAR, a person who begs. See a general view
of the condition and number of such persons in Britain,
in the article BEGGAR in the SUPPLEMENT.
BEGHARDS. See Beguards.
BEGLERBEG, a governor of one of the principal
governments of the Turkish empire, and next in digni¬
ty to the grand vizier. To every beglerbeg the grand
signior gives three ensigns or staves, trimmed with a
horsetail $ to distinguish them from the bashaws, who
have but two *, and from simple begs, or sangiac begs,
who have but one.
The province or government of beglerbeg is called
beglerbeglik, or beglierbeglik. There are two sorts;
the first called basilo beglerbeglik, which have a certain
rent assigned out of the cities, countries, and signiories
allotted to the principality : the second called salianee
beglerbeglik, for maintenance of which is annexed a sa¬
lary or rent, collected by the grand signior’s officers
with the treasure of the empire. The beglerbegs of
the first sort are in number 22, viz. those of Anatolia,
Caramania, Diarbekir, Damascus, Aleppo, Tripoli,
Trebizond, Buda, Timiswar, &c. The beglerbegs of
the second sort are in number six, viz. those of Cairo,
Babylon, &c. Five of the beglerbegs have the title
of viziers, viz. those of Anatolia, Babylon, Cairo, Ro¬
mania, and Buda.
The
BEG [ 535 ] B E H
j'rlerbeg ^Iie beglerbegs appear with great state, and a large
|| retinue, especially in the camp, being obliged to bring
j^uines. a soldier for every 5000 aspers of rent which they en-
^ ' joy. Those of Romania brought 10,000 elfective men
into the field.
The beglerbegs are become almost independent, and
have under their jurisdiction several sangiacs or particu¬
lar governments, and begs, agas, and other officers who
obey them.
BEGUARDS, or Beghards, religious of the third
order of St Francis in Flanders. They were establish¬
ed at Antwerp in the year 1228, and took St Begghe
for their patroness, whence they had their name. From
their first institution they employed themselves in mak¬
ing linen cloth, each supporting himself by his own la¬
bour, and united only by the bonds of charity, with¬
out having any particular rule. But, when Pope Ni¬
cholas IV. had confirmed that of the third order of St
Francis in 1289, they embraced it the year following.
They were greatly favoured by the dukes of Brabant,
particularly John II. and John III. who exempted
them from all contributions and taxes. In the year
1425, they began to live in common, and made solemn
vows in 1467, after having taken the habit of the Ter-
ciaries (or religious of the third order of St Francis)
of Liege. At last, in I472> they became subject to
the general of the congregation of Zepperen in the
diocese of Liege, to which they were united by Pope
Sixtus IV. As the convent of Antwerp is since be¬
come very considerable, the name of Beguards has been
given to all the other religious of the same congrega¬
tion. But, in 1650, Pope Innocent X. having sup¬
pressed the general of the congregation of Zepperen,
all the convents of the third order of St Francis, in
the dioceses of Liege, Malines, and Antwerp, were
submitted to the visitation, jurisdiction, and correction,
of the general of Italy, and erected into a province,
under the title of the province of Flanders. This pro¬
vince has at present 10 or 12 convents, the principal
of which are those of Antwerp, Brussels, Maestricht,
and Louvain.
BEGUINES, a congregation of religious or nuns,
founded either by St Begghe, founder likewise of the
Beguards, or by Lambert le Begue $ of whom the
former died about the end of the seventh century, the
latter about the end of the 12th. They were establish¬
ed first at Liege, and afterwards at Neville, in 1207 ;
and from this last settlement sprang the great number
of Beguinages, which are spread over all Flanders, and
which have passed from Flanders into Germany. In
the latter country, some of these religious fell into ex¬
travagant errors, persuading themselves that it was pos¬
sible, in the present life, to arrive at the highest per¬
fection, even to impeccability, and a clear view of
God ; in short, to so eminent a degree of contemplation,
that there was no necessity, after this, either to observe
the fasts of the church, or submit to the direction and
laws of mortal men. The council of Vienna con¬
demned these errors, and abolished the order of Be-
guines ; permitting, nevertheless, those among them,
who continued in the true faith, to live in chastity and
penitence, either with or without vows. It is by favour
of this latter clause, that there still subsist so many
communities of Beguines in Flanders ; who, since the
council of Vienna, have conducted themselves with so
much wisdom and piety, that Pope John XXII. by his Beguines
decretal, which explains that of his predecessor made H
in the council of Vienna, took them under his protec- Eebti.
tion j and Boniface VIII. in another, exempted them
from the secular tribunal, and put them under the ju¬
risdiction of the bishops.
There is scarcely a town in the Low Countries, in
which there is not a society of Beguines $ and, not¬
withstanding the change of religion at Amsterdam,
there is a very flourishing one in that city. These so¬
cieties consist of several houses placed together in one
inclosure, with one or more churches, according to
the number of Beguines. There is in every house a
prioress, or mistress, without whose leave they dare
not stir out. They make a sort of vow, which is con¬
ceived in the following terms : “IN. promise to be
obedient and chaste as long as I continue in thisBegui-
nage.” They observe a three years noviciate before
they take the habit. The rector of the parish is supe¬
rior of the Beguinage ; and he does nothing without the
advice of eight Beguines. They were formerly habited
in different manners; some in gray, others in blue ; but
at present they all wear black. When they go abroad,
in Amsterdam, they put on a black veil. Formerly
they had as many different statutes as there were socie¬
ties. In the visitations of the year 1600 and 1601, by
the archbishop Matthias Hovius, they were forbidden^
under the penalty of a fine, to have lapdogs. The
finest Beguinage in Flanders is that ofMalines. That
of Antwerp likewise is very spacious, and has two se¬
parate churches.
BEHEADING, a capital punishment, wherein the
head is severed from the body by the stroke of an axe,
sword, or other cutting instrument.
Beheading was a military punishment among the Ro¬
mans, known by the name of decollatio. Among them
the head was laid on a cippus or block, placed in a pit
dug for the purpose ; in the army, without the vallum ;
in the city, without the walls, at a place near the porta
decumana. Preparatory to the stroke, the criminal was
tied to a stake, and whipped with cords. In the early
ages the blow was given with an axe ; but in after¬
times with a sword, which was thought the more repu¬
table manner of dying. The execution was but clum¬
sily performed in the first times \ but afterwards they
grew more expert, and took the head olf clean, with
one circular stroke.
In England, beheading is the punishment of nobles,
as it was formerly in France $ being reputed not to de¬
rogate from nobility, as hanging does.
In Scotland they do not behead with an axe, as in
England ; nor with a sword, as in Holland ; but with
an edged instrument called the Maiden. With an in¬
strument similar to this, were the bloody executions
perpetrated in France during the late revolution. It
was called guillotine, from the name of the supposed in¬
ventor, who was a physician.
BEHEMOTH, the hippopotamus or river-horse*
See Hippopotamus, Mammalia Index.
BEHEN, in Botany. See Cucubalus, Botany
Index.
BEHMEN. See Boehmen.
BEHN, Aphara, a celebrated authoress, descend¬
ed from a good family in the city of Canterbury, was
born some time in Charles I.’s reign,, but in what
• year
B £ H
B*lm. year is uncertain. Her father’s name was Johnson,
1 who through the interest of Lord Willoughby, to
whom he was related, being appointed lieutenant-ge*
neral of Surinam and 36 islands, undertook a journey
to the West Indies, taking with him his whole family,
among whom was our poetess, at that time very young.
Mr Johnson died on the voyage ; but his family reach¬
ing Surinam, settled there for some years. Here it
was that she learned the history of, and acquired a per¬
sonal intimacy with, the American prince Oroonoko,
and his beloved Imoinda, whose adventures she hath
so pathetically related in her celebrated nqvel of that
name, and which Mr Southeime afterwards made such
an admirable use of, in adopting it as the ground¬
work of one of the best tragedies in the English lan¬
guage.
On her retutn to London, she became the wife of
one Mr Behn, a merchant, residing in that city, but
of Dutch extraction. How long he lived after their
marriage is not very apparent, probably not very long 5
for her wit and abilities having brought her into hi^li
estimation at court, King Charles II. fixed on her as a
proper person to transact some affairs of importance
abroad during the course of the Dutch war. To this
purpose she went over to Antwerp, where, by her in¬
trigues and gallantries, she so far crept into the secrets
of state, as to answer the ends proposed by sending her
over. Nay, in the latter end of 1666, by means
of the influence she had over one Vander Albert, a
Dutchman of eminence, whose heart was warmly at¬
tached to her, she w'ormed out of him the design form¬
ed by De Huyter, in conjunction with the family of
the De Wits, of sailing up the Thames and burning
the English ships in their harbours, which they after¬
wards put in execution at Rochester. This she imme¬
diately communicated to the English court: but though
the event proved her intelligence to be well grounded,
yet it was at that time only laughed at; which, toge¬
ther probably with no great inclination shown to re¬
ward her for the pains she had been at, determined her
to drop all further thoughts of political affairs, and du¬
ring the remainder of her stay at Antwerp to give her¬
self up entirely to the gaiety and gallantries of the place.
Vander Albert continued his addresses, and after having
made some unsuccessful attempts to obtain the possession
of her person on easier terms than matrimony, at length
consented to make her his wife 5 but w’hile he was pre¬
paring at Amsterdam for a journey to England with
that intent, a fever carried him off, and left her free
from any amorous engagements. In her voyage back
to England, she w as very near being lost, the vessel she
was in being driven on the coast by a storm ; but hap¬
pening to founder within sight of land, the passengers
were, by the timely assistance of boats from the shore,
all fortunately preserved.
From this period she devoted her life entirely to plea¬
sure and the muses. Her works are extremely nume¬
rous, and all of them have a lively and amorous turn.
It is no wonder then that her wit should have gained
her the esteem of Mr Dryden, Southerne, and other
men of genius, as her beauty, of which in her younger
part of life she possessed a great share, did the love
of those of gallantry. Nor does she appear to have
been any stranger to the delicate sensations of that pas¬
sion, as appears from some of her letters to a gentle-
t 536 ]
B £ I
man, with whom she corresponded under the name of
Lycida, and who seems not to have returned her
flame with equal ardour, or received it with that rap¬
ture her charms might well have been expected to com¬
mand. •
She published three volumes of Miscellany Poems ;
two volumes of Histories and Novels $ translated Fon-
tenelle’s Plurality of Worlds, and annexed a Criticism
on it) and her plays make four volumes. In the dra¬
matic line, the turn of her genius Was chiefly to co¬
medy. As to the character her plays should maintain
in the records of dramatic history, it will be difficult to
determine, since their faults and perfections stand in
strong opposition to each other. In all, even the most
indifferent of her pieces, there are strong marks of ge¬
nius and understanding* Her plots are full of business
and ingenuity, and her dialogue sparkles with the daz¬
zling lustre of genuine wit, which everywhere glitters
among it. But then she has been accused, and that
not without great justice, of interlarding her comedies
with the most indecent scenes, and giving an indul¬
gence to her wit in the most indelicate expressions. To
this accusation she has herself made some reply in the
Preface to the Lucky Chance 5 but the retorting the
charge of prudery and preciseness on her accusers, is
far from being a sufficient exculpation of herself. The
best and perhaps the only true excuse that can be
made for it is, that, as she wrote for a livelihood, she
was obliged to comply with the corrupt taste of the
times.
After a life intermingled with numerous disappoint¬
ments, she departed from this world on the 16th of
April 1689, and lies interred in the cloisters of West¬
minster Abbey.
BEJA, an ancient town of Portugal, in the province
of Alentejo. It is seated in a very agreeable and fruit¬
ful plain, remarkable for excellent wine. There are
three gates remaining, which are of Roman architecture,
and a great many Roman antiquities are dug out of the
earth. The town has a strong castle for its defence,
and is situated in W. Long. 7. 20. N. Lat. 37. 58. It
was taken from the Moors in 1162.
BEJAR, a town of Estremadura in Spain, famous for
its baths. It is seated in a very agreeable valley sur¬
rounded with high mountains whose tops are always co¬
vered with snow. Here the dukes of Bejar have a
handsome palace. In this neighbourhood are forests
filled with game, and watered by fine springs ) also a
lake abounding with excellent fish, particularly trouts.
They pretend that this lake makes such a noise before a
storm, that it may be heard 15 miles off.
BEICHLINGEN, a town of Thuringia in Upper
Saxony, in E. Long. II. 50. N. Lat. 51. 20.
BEILA, a town of Italy, in Piedmont. E. Long.
7. 45. N. Lat. 45. 2.
BEILSTEIN, a town of the landgravate of Hesse irl
Germany, in E. Long. 8. o. N. Lat. 50. 30.
BEINASCHI, Giovanni Battista, called Ca¬
valier Beinaschi, history painter, was a Piedmontese,
and born in 1634. He studied in Rome, under the
direction of Pietro del Po ) and some authors affirm,
that he was afterwards the disciple of Lanfranc. It
was certain that be was peculiarly fond of the works
of Lanfranc, and at last became so thoroughly ac¬
quainted with the style, manner, and touch, of that
excellent
BEL
feaskclii excellent master, that many of the pictures of Beinas-
H chi are at this day accounted the work of Lanfranc’s
tel. own hand. He was an admirable designer 5 his lively
u,'y~n invention furnished him with a surprising variety : his
thought was noble $ he was not only expeditious but
correct; and as a public acknowledgment of his me¬
rit, the honour of knighthood was conferred upon
him.
BEINHEIM, a fort of Alsace in France, seated on
the river Sur, near its confluence with the Rhine, in
E. Long. 8. 12. N. Lat. 45. 2.
BEIRA, a province of Portugal, bounded on the
west by the ocean, on the south by the Portuguese
Estremadura, on the south-east by the Spanish province
of the same name, on the east by the province of Tra
los Montos, and on the north by the river Douro. It
extends in length about 34 leagues, and in breadth
about 30 leagues, and is divided into six commarcas.
Within this province lies Lamego, where the first as¬
sembly of the states was held ; the chief episcopal city
of Conimbra, or Coimbra, which is likewise an uni¬
versity $ and Viseo, also a bishopric, and formerly the
capital of a dukedom. The country is equally agree¬
able and fruitful, producing corn, wines, &c. in abun¬
dance, and the hills aftordingexcellent pasture to cattle
and sheep. The population in 1810 was 880,602, and
the number of parishes 1227.
BEIRAM, or Bairam. See Bairam.
BEIRALSTON, a town in Devonshire, which sends
two members to parliament.
BEIZA, or Beizath, in Hebrew antiquity, a word
signifying an egg; as also a certain measure in use among
the Jews. The beiza was likewise a gold coin, weigh¬
ing 40 drachms, among the Persians, who gave out
that Philip of Macedon owed their king Darius 1000
beizaths or golden eggs, for tribute-money ; and that
Alexander the Great refused to pay them, saying, that
the bird which laid these eggs was flown into the other
world.
BEKKER, Balthasar, one of the most famous
Dutch divines, and author of the celebrated book, The
World Bewitched, an ingenious piece against the vul¬
gar notion of spirits. This raised a terrible clamour
against him. He was deposed from the office of mini¬
ster j but the magistrates of Amsterdam continued him
his pension. He died in 1698.
BEL, Matthias, was born in Hungary, and be¬
came a Lutheran minister at Presburg, and historiogra¬
pher to the emperor Charles VI. He wrote, among
other works, a History of Hungary, which was so
much admired, that the emperor sent him letters of
nobility ; and notwithstanding his being a Lutheran,
the Pope, in 1736, sent him his picture, and many
large gold medals. He was a member of the Royal
Society of London, and of the academies of Berlin
and Petersburg; and died in 1749, at 66 years of
age.
Bel, or Be/us, the supreme god of the ancient
Chaldeans or Babylonians. He was the founder of
the Babylonian empire; and is supposed to be the Nim¬
rod ot Scripture, and the same as the Phoenician Baal.
This god had a temple erected to him in the city of
Babylon, on the very uppermost range of the famous
tower of Babel, or Babylon, wherein were many sta¬
tues of this deity; and one, among the rest, of massv
Vol. III. Part II. i
BEL
gold, 40 feet high. The whole furniture of this mag-
nificent temple was of the same metal, and valued at U
800 talents of gold.—This temple, with its riches, was Belerimn,
in being till the time of Xerxes, who, returning from v~
his unfortunate expedition into Greece, demolished it,
and carried off’the immense wealth which it contained.
It was the statue of this god which Nebuchadnezzar,
being returned to Babylon after the end of the Jewish
war, set up and dedicated in the plain of Dura ; the
story of which is related at large in the third chapter
of Daniel.
Bel and the jDragon^ the history of; an apocryphal
and uncanonical book of Scripture. It was always re¬
jected by the Jewish church, and is extant neither in
the Hebrew nor the Chaldee language, nor is there
any proof that it ever was so. St Jerome gives it no
better title than the Fable of Bell and the Dragon. It
is however permitted to be read, as w'ell as the other
apocryphal writings, for instruction and the improve¬
ment of manners.
BELAC, a small town of France, in the province
of the Lyonnois, now the department of Upper Vienne,
and district of La Marche. It contains about 3900
inhabitants. E. Long. 1. 3. N. Lat. 46. 8.
BELAV, on board a ship, signifies the same as fa¬
sten.—Thus they say, belay the sheet, or tack, that is,
fasten it to the kevel, by winding it several times round
a last, &c.
BELCASTRO, an episcopal city of Italy in the far¬
ther Calabria, and kingdom of Naples. It is seated on
a mountain, in E. Long. 17. 15. N. Lat. 39. 6.
BELCHITE, a town of Spain, in the kingdom of
Arragon, seated on the river Almonazir, in W. Long.
O. 30. N. Lat. 41. 19.
BELCHOE, a town of Ireland, in the province of
Ulster, and county of Fermanagh, seated on Lough
Nilly, in W. Long. 6. 6. N. Lat. 54. 2.
BELEM, a towm of Estremadura in Portugal, about
a mile from Lisbon. It is seated on the north side of
the river Tajo, and is designed to defend the entrance to
Lisbon; and here all the ships that sail up the river must
bring to. In this place they inter the kings and queens
of Portugal.
BELEMNITES, vulgarly called thunder-bolts or
thunder-stones, are composed of several crusts of stone
encircling each other, of a conical form, aud various
sizes; usually a little hollow, and somewhat trans¬
parent, formed of several striae radiating from the axis
to the surface of the stone; and when burnt or rubbed
against one another, or scraped with a knife, yield an
odour like rasped horn. Their size is various, from a
quarter of an inch to eight inches; and their colour
and shape differ. They are supposed to be originally
either a part of some sea production ; or a stone formed
in the cavity of some worm-shell, which being of a ten¬
der and brittle nature, has perished, after giving its
form to the stonei They are very frequently found in
many parts of England ; and the common people have
a notion, that they are always to be met with after a
storm. They are often enclosed in, or adhere to, other
stones; and are most frequent amongst gravel, or in
clay ; they abound in Gloucestershire ; and are found
near Dedington in Oxfordshire, where they sometimes
contain the silver marcasite.
BELERIUM, in Ancient Geography, a prcmontory
3 Y of
r 537 3
BEL
Belemim, the Dunmonii or Damnonii, the westmost Britons.
Belesis. Now called the Land's End, in Cornwall.
» -f BELESIS, or Nanybrus, is said to have been the
founder of the ancient Babylonish empire, and in con¬
junction with Arbaces the Mede to have put an end
to the kingdom of the Assyrians by the defeat and
death of Sardanapulus. This first prince is represented
as a crafty and mean-spirited knave *, and at the same
time, as nothing less than a hero. It is said, he was
base enough to circumvent Arbaces his colleague and
friend in the most shameful manner •, by pretending a
vow he had, in the midst of the war, made to his god
Belus, That if success was the event of it, and the pa¬
lace of Sardanapalus was consumed, as it was, he
would be at the charge and trouble of removing the
ashes that were left to Babylon where he would heap
them up into a mount near the temple of his god *, there
to stand as a monument to all who should navigate the
Euphrates, of the subversion of the Assyrian empire.
He, it seems, had been privately informed, by an eu¬
nuch, of the immense treasure which had been con¬
sumed in the conflagration at Nineveh •, and knowing it
to be a secret to Arbaces, his avarice suggested to him
this artifice. Arbaces not only granted him his re¬
quest 5 but appointed him king of Babylon, with an
exemption from all tribute. Belesis, by this artifice,
carried a prodigious treasure with him to Babylon •,
but when the secret was discovered, he was called to
an account for it, and tried by the other chiefs who
had been assistant in the war, and who, upon his con¬
fession of the crime, condemned him to lose his head.
But Arbaces, a munificent and generous prince, free¬
ly forgave him, left him in possession of the treasure,
and also in the independent government of Babylon,
saying, The good he had done ought to serve as a veil
to his crime ; and thus he became at once a prince of
great wealth and dominion.
In process of time, and under the successor of Ar¬
baces, he became a man of dress, shew, and effeminacy,
unworthy of the kingdom or province he held. Nany¬
brus, for so we must now call Belesis, understanding a
certain robust Mede, called Parsondas, held him in the
utmost contempt, and had solicited the emperor of the
Medes to divest him of his dominions, and to confer
them upon himself, offered a very great reward to the
man who should take Parsondas and bring him to him.
Parsondas hunting somewhere near Babylon with the
king of the Medes, and straggling from the company,
happened to fall in with some of the servants of the Ba¬
bylonian Nanybrus, who had been tempted with the
promised reward. They were purveyors to the king j
and Parsondas being very thirsty, asked them for a
draught of wine •, which they not only granted, but
prevailed upon him to take a meal with them. As he
drank freely, suspecting no treachery, he was easily
persuaded to pass that night in company with some
beautiful women, brought on purpose to detain him.
But, while he was in a profound sleep, the servants
of Nanybrus rushing upon him, bound him, and car¬
ried him to their prince 5 who bitterly reproached him
for endeavouring to estrange his master the king of
the Medes from him, and by that means place him¬
self in his room on the throne of Babylon. Parson¬
das did not deny the charge ; but with great intrepi¬
dity owned, that he thought himself more worthy of a
BEL
crown than such an indolent and effeminate prince as Btk»li
he was. Nanybrus, highly provoked at the liberty he Beleimp.
took, swore by the gods Belus and Mol is, or rather '‘'"“’■v—-l
Mylitta, that Parsondas himself should in a short time
become so effeminate as to reproach none with effemi¬
nacy. Accordingly, he ordered the eunuch who had
the charge of his music-women, to shave, paint, and
dress him after the manner of those women, to teach
him the art, and in short to transform him by all pos¬
sible means into a woman. His orders were obeyed ;
and the manly Parsondas soon excelled the fairest fe¬
male in singing, playing, and the other arts of allure¬
ment.
In the mean time the king of the Medes, having in
vain sought after his favourite servant, and in vain of¬
fered great rewards to such as should give him any in¬
formation concerning him, concluded he had been de¬
stroyed by some wild beast in the chase. At length,
after seven years, the Mede wms informed of his state
and condition by an eunuch, who, being cruelly scour¬
ged by Nanybrus’s order, fled, at the instigation of
Parsondas into Media *, and there disclosed the whole
to the king, who immediately despatched an officer to
demand him. Nanybrus pretended to know nothing
of any such person : upon which another officer was
sent by the Mede, with a peremptory order to seize on
Nanybrus if he persisted in the denial, to bind him with
his girdle, and lead him to immediate execution. This
order had the desired effect : the Babylonian owned
what he bad before denied •, promising to comply, with¬
out further delay, with the king’s demand $ and in the
mean time invited the officer to a banquet, at which
150 women, among whom was Parsondas, made their
appearance, singing and playing upon various instru¬
ments. But, of all, Parsoudas appeared by far the most
charming j insomuch, that Nanybrus inquiring of the
Mede which he liked best, immediately pointed at
him. At this the Babylonian clapt his hands ; and,
falling into an immoderate fit of laughter, told him
who the person was whom he thus preferred to all the
rest 5 adding, that he could answer what he had done
before the king of the Medes. The officer was no less
surprised at such an astonishing change than his master
was afterwards, when Parsondas appeared before him.
The only favour Parsondas begged of the king, for all
his past services, was, that he would avenge on the Ba¬
bylonian the base and highly injurious treatment he had
met with at his hands. The Mede marched accord¬
ingly at his instigation to Babylon $ and, notwith¬
standing the remonstrances of Nanybrus, urging, that
Parsondas had, without the least provocation, endea¬
voured to deprive him both of his life and kingdom,
declared that in ten days time he would pass the sen¬
tence on him which he deserved, for presuming to act
as judge in his own cause, instead of appealing to him.
But Nanybrus having in the mean time gained with a
large bribe Mitraphernes the Mede’s favourite eunuch,
the king was by him prevailed upon to sentence the
Babylonian only to a fine j which made Parsondas curse
the man who first found out gold, for the sake of which
he was to live the sport and derision of an effeminate
Babylonian.
BELESME, a town of Perche in France, in the
department of Orne, in W. Long. o. 16. N. Lat. 48*
23' BELEZEKO,
[ 538 ]
BEL [ 539 ] BEL
jHozers
H
Btfwni.
BELEZEIIO, a town of Russia, and capital pf a
province of the same name. It is situated on the south¬
east shore of the White sea, in E. Long. 36. 10. N.
Lat. 61. 50.
BELFAST, a town of Ireland, in the county of
Antrim. It is seated at the bottom of Carrickfergus
hay, and is the chief town and port in this part of Ire¬
land, as well for beauty, as for its wealth, trade, and
shipping. The customhouse duties for the year 1816
amounted to 349,417!.; and the inhabitants, who are
mostly Scots, and of the Presbyterian religion, amount¬
ed in the same year to 30,000. W. Long. 5. 54. N.
Lat. 54. 38.
BELFRY, Belfredus, is used by military writers
of the middle age for a sort of tower ei'ected by be¬
siegers to overlook and command the place besieged.
Belfry originally denoted a high tower, whereon senti¬
nels were placed to watch the avenues of a place, and
prevent surprise from parties of the enemies, or to give
notice of fires by ringing a bell. In the cities ol Flan¬
ders, where there is no belfry on purpose, the tower
of the chief church serves the same end. The word
belfry is compounded of the Teutonic belli and freid,
“ peace,” because the bells were hung for preserving
the peace.
Belfry is also used for that part of a steeple where¬
in the bells are hung. This is sometimes called by the
middle-age writers campanile, clocaria, and tnstegum.
Belfry is more particularly used for the timber-
work which sustains the bells in a steeple, or that wood¬
en structure to which the bells in church-steeples are
fastened.
BELGiE, in Ancient Geography, a people of Bri¬
tain, to the west: Now Hampshire, Wiltshire, and
Somersetshire, (Camden).
BELGICA, a town of the Ubii in Gallia Belgica,
midway between the rivers Rhine andRoer : Now cal¬
led Balchusen (Cluverius) $ a citadel of Juliers (Bau-
drand).
Belgica Gallia, one of Caesar’s three divisions of
Gaul, contained between the ocean to the north, the
rivers Seine and Marne to the west, the Rhine to the
east, but on the south at different times within differ¬
ent limits. Augustus, instituting everywhere a new
partition of provinces, added the Sequani and Helvetii,
who till then made a part of Celtic Gaul, to the Belgic
(Pliny, Ptolemy). The gentilitious name is Belgce,
called by Caesar the bravest of the Gauls, because un¬
tainted by the importation of luxuries. The epithet is
Belgicus (Virgil).
BELGARDEN, a town of Germany, in East Po¬
merania, in a circle of the same name, and subject to
Prussia. E. Long. 16. 5. N. Lat. 54. 10.
BELGINUM, a town of the Treviri, in Gallia
Belgica : Now called Baldenau, in the electorate of
Triers.
BELGIUM, manifestly distinguished from Belgica,
as a part from the whole (Caesar) 5 who makes Belgium
the country of the Bellovaci j Hirtius adding the Atre-
bates. But as the Ambiani lay between the Bellovaci
and Atrebates, we must also add these: and thus Bel¬
gium reached to the sea, because the Ambiani lay up¬
on it : and these three people constituted the proper
and genuine Belgae (all the rest being adventitious, or
foreigners) ; and these were the people of Beauvais,
Amiens, and Artois.
BELGOROD, a town of Russia, and capital of a
province of the same name. It is seated on the river
Don nets, in E. Long. 18. 5. N. Lat. 51. 20.
Belgorod, a strong town of Bessarabia in Euro¬
pean Russia, seated at the mouth of the river Niester,
on the Black sea, 80 miles south-east of Bender. E.
Long. 31. o. N. Lat. 46. IO.
BELGRADE, a city of Turkey in Europe, and
capital of Servia, seated at the confluence of the Save
and the Danube, in E. Long. 20. 10. N. Lat.44. 52.
The Danube is very rapid near this city, and its wa¬
ters look whitish. Belgrade is built on a hill, and was
once large, strong, and populous. It was surrounded
with a double wall, flanked with a great number of
towers, and had a castle situated on a rising ground, and
built with square stones. The suburbs are very exten¬
sive : and resorted to by Turkish, Jewish, Greek, Hun¬
garian, and Sclavonian merchants. The streets where
the greatest trade is carried on are covered with wood,
to shelter the dealers from the sun and rain. The ri¬
vers render it very convenient for commerce ; and as
the Danube falls into the Black sea, the trade is easily
extended to distant countries, which renders it the
staple town in these parts j and as the Danube runs up
to Vienna, they send goods from thence with a great
deal of ease. The Armenians have a church here, and
the Jews a synagogue, both these being employed as
factors. The shops are but small: and the sellers sit on
tables, disposing of their commodities out of a window,
for the buyers never go on the inside. The richest
merchandise is exposed to sale in two bezesteins or ba¬
zars, built crosswise. There are two exchanges, built
with stone, and supported with pillars not unlike the
Royal Exchange at London. It has been taken by the
Turks and Imperialists alternately several times. The
fine fortifications were demolished in 1739 j ant^ ^,e
place was finally ceded to the Turks in 1791. It was
taken by the Servian insurgents in 1806.
BELGRADO, a town of Friuli, in the Venetian
territories in Italy. It stands near the river Tejamento,
in E. Long. 13. 5. N. Lat. 46. o.
BELIA, in Ancient Geography, a town of hither
Spain : Now Belchiie, in the kingdom of Arragon.
See Belchite.
BELIAL, ba'bs, a Hebrew word which signifies a
wicked worthless man, one who is resolved to endure
no subjection. Thus the inhabitants of Gibeah, who
abused the Levite’s wife (Judges xix. 22.), have the
name of Belial given them. Hophni and Phineas, the
high priest Eli’s sons, are likewise called sons of Belial
(1 Sam. ii. 12.), upon account of the several crimes
they had committed, and the unbecoming manner in
which they behaved themselves in the temple of the
Lord. Sometimes the name Belial is taken to denote
the devil. Thus St Paul says (Cor. vi. 15.) “ What
concord hath Christ with Belial ?” ^Whence it appears,
that in his time the Jews, under the name of Belial,
commonly understood the devil in the places where this
term occurs in the Old Testament.
BELIDOR, Bernard Forest de, a Catalonian
engineer in the service of France, and member of the
academies of sciences at Paris and Berlin, and of the
3 Y 2 royal
Belgium
1!
Belidor.
BEL [ 540 ]
Bclidor royal society at London ; a celebrated mathematician, army, who
Bdisar' s au^10r a rium^er °f military tracts in which the
»- science of mathematics is applied to military uses. Died
in 1765, aged 70.
BELIEF, in its general and natural sense, denotes a
persuasion, or a strong assent of the mind to the truth
of any proposition. In which sense, belief has no rela¬
tion to any particular kind of means or arguments, but
may be produced by any means whatever. Thus we
are said to believe our senses, to believe our reason, to
believe a witness, &c. And hence, in rhetoric, all
sorts of proofs, from whatever topics deduced, are call¬
ed cr/j-Kj, because apt to beget belief or persuasion touch¬
ing the matter in hand.
Belief, in its more restrained and technical sense,
invented by the schoolmen, denotes that kind of assent
which is grounded only on the authority or testimony
of some person or persons, asserting or attesting the
truth of any matter proposed.
In this sense, belief stands opposed to knowledge and
science. We do not say we believe that snow is white,
or that the whole is equal to its parts} but we see and
know them to be so. That the three angles of a tri¬
angle are equal to two right angles, or that all motion
is naturally rectilinear, are not said to be things cre¬
dible, but scientifical j and the comprehension of such
truths is not belief but science.
But when a thing propounded to us is neither appa¬
rent to our sense, nor evident to our understanding j
neither certainly to be collected from any clear and ne¬
cessary connection with the cause from which it pro¬
ceeds, nor with the effects which it naturally produces;
nor is taken up upon any real arguments, or relation
thereof to other acknowledged truths ; and yet, not¬
withstanding, appears as true, not by manifestation,
but by an attestation of the truth, and moves us to as¬
sent, not of itself, but in virtue of a testimony given to
it—this is said to be properly credible j and an assent
to this is the proper notion of belief or faith.
BELIEVERS, an appellation given toward the close
of the first century to those Christians who had been ad¬
mitted into the church by baptism, and instructed in all
the mysteries of religion. They had also access to all
the parts of divine worship, and were authorized to vote
in the ecclesiastical assemblies. They were thus called
in contradistinction to the catechumens, who had not
been baptized, and w'ere debarred from these privi¬
leges.
BELIO, in Ancient Geography, a river of Lusita¬
nia, called otherwise Limceus, Limeas, Limius, and Le¬
the, or the river of oblivion ; the boundary of the expe¬
dition of Decimus Brutus. The soldiers out of super¬
stition refusing to cross, he snatched an ensign out of
the hands of the bearer, and passed over, by which his
army was encouraged to follow (Livy). He was the
first Roman who ever proceeded so far, and ventured
to cross. 'I he reason of the appellation, according to
Strabo is, that in a military expedition a sedition arising
between the Celtici and Turduli, after crossing that ri¬
ver, in which the general was slain, they remained dis¬
persed there j and from this circumstance it came to
be called the river of Lethe, or oblivion. Now called
El Luna, in Portugal, running westward into the At¬
lantic, to the south of the Minho.
BELISARIUS, general of the emperor Justinian’s
3
BEL
,. overthrew the Persians in the east, the
Vandals in Africa, and the Goths in Italy. See Rome.
But after all his great exploits, he was falsely accused
of a conspiracy against the emperor. The real conspi¬
rators had been detected and seized, with daggers hid¬
den under their garments. One of them died by his
own hand, and the other was dragged from the sanc¬
tuary. Pressed by remorse, or tempted by the hopes
of safety, he accused two officers of the household of
Belisarius j and torture forced them to declare that
they had acted according to the secret instructions of
their patron. Posterity will not hastily believe, that a
hero who in the vigour of life had disdained the fairest
offers of ambition and revenge, should stoop to the
murder of his prince, whom he could not long expect
to survive. His followers were impatient to fly 5 but
flight must have been supported by rebellion, and he
had lived enough for nature and for glory. Belisarius
appeared before the council with less fear than indig¬
nation : after 40 years service, the emperor had pre¬
judged his guilt 5 and injustice was sanctified by the
presence and authority of the patriarch. The life of
Belisarius was graciously spared : but his fortunes were
sequestered ; and, from December to July, he was
guarded as a prisoner in his own palace. At length
his innocence was acknowledged j his freedom and ho¬
nours were restored $ and death, which might be ha-
stened by resentment and grief, removed him from the
world about eight months after his deliverance. That
he was deprived of his eyes, and reduced by envy to
beg his bread, “ Give a penny to Belisarius the gene¬
ral !” is a fiction of later times ; which has obtained
credit, or rather favour, as a strange example of the
vicissitudes of fortune.—The source of this idle fable
may be derived from a miscellaneous work of the 12th
century, the Chiliads of John Tzetzes, a monk. He
relates the blindness and beggary of Belisarius in ten
vulgar or political verses ^Chiliad iii. N° 88. 339—348.
in Corp. Poet. Graec. tom. ii. p. 311.).
TLy.7rupc& fyXmtv ifiox ttu pt\ia>
HiXHTUQUU ofiohov $OTi T6) S"gflST)lA&TJ5
Ox TVffl piv S^xtrll, CCTTOrvQMt y 0 (f>6tV0i.
This moral or romantic tale was imported into Italy
with the language and manusciipts of Greece *, repeat¬
ed before the end of the 15th century by Crinitus, Pon-
tanus, and Volaterranus ; attacked by Alciat for the ho¬
nour of the law, and defended by Baronius (A. D. 561,
N° 2, &c.) for the honour of the church. Yet Tzetzes
himself had read in other chronicles, that Belisarius did
not lose his sight, and that he recovered his fame and
fortunes.— Hie statue in the Villa Borghese at Rome,
in a sitting posture, with an open hand, which is vulgar¬
ly given to Belisarius, may be ascribed with more pro¬
priety to Augustus in the act of propitiating Nemesis
{Winckleman, Hist, del'Art. tom. iii. p. 266.). “ Ex
nocturno visu etiam stipem, quotannis, die certo, emen-
dicabat a populo, cavam manum asses porrigentibus pre-
bens.” {Seuton. in Aug. c. 91.).
BELL, a well known machine, ranked by musicians
among the musical instruments of percussion.
I he constituent parts of a bell are the body or bar¬
rel, the clapper on the inside, and the ear er cannon by
which it hangs to a large beam of wood. The matter of
which it is usually made is a composition called bell-
metal.
Belisariu
Bell.
BEL [ 541 ] BEL
metal. The thickness of a bell's edge is usually Tj.
of the diameter, and its height, 12 times its thickness.
The bell-founders have a diapason, or bell-scale, where¬
with they measure the size, thickness, weight, and tone,
of their bells. For the method of casting bells, see
Foundery.
The sound of a bell is conjectured to consist in a vi¬
bratory motion of its parts, much like that of a mu¬
sical chord. The stroke ol the clapper must necessarily
change the figure of the bell, and of a round make it
oval : but the metal having a great degree of elastici¬
ty, that part will return back again which the stroke
drove farthest off from the centre, and that even some
small matter nearer the centre than before j so that the
two parts which before were extremes of the longest
diameter, do then become those of the shortest 5 and
thus the external surface of the bell undergoes alternate
changes of figure, and by that means gives that tre¬
mulous motion to the air in which the sound consists.
M. Perrault maintains, that the sound of the same bell
or chord is a compound of the sounds of the several
parts thereof j so that where the parts are homogene¬
ous, and the dimensions of the figure uniform, there is
such a perfect mixture of all these sounds as constitutes
one uniform, smooth, even sound •, and the contrary cir¬
cumstances produce harshness. This he proves from the
bells differing in tone according to the part you strike j
and yet strike it anywhere, there is a motion of all the
parts. He therefore considers bells as a compound of
an infinite number of rings, which according to their
different dimensions have different tones, as chords of
different lengths have j and when struck, the vibrations
of the parts immediately struck determine the tone, be¬
ing supported by a sufficient number of consonant tones
in the other parts.
Bells are observed to be heard farther placed en plains
than on hills ; and still farther in valleys than on plains:
the reason of which will not be difficult to assign, if it
be considered that the higher the sonorous body is, the
rarer is its medium : consequently, the less impulse it
receives, and the less proper vehicle it is to convey it
to a distance.
M. Reaumur, in the Memoirs of the Paris Academy,
has the following observations relating to the shape
most proper for bells, to give them the loudest and clear¬
est sound. He observes, “ that as pots and other ves¬
sels more immediately necessary to the service of life
were doubtless made before bells, it probably happened
that the observing these vessels to have a sound when
struck, gave occasion to making bells, intended only
for sound, in that form *, but that it does not appear
that this is the most eligible figure ; for lead, a metal
which is in its common state not at all sonorous, yet
becomes greatly so on its being cast into a particular
form, and that very different from the common shape
of bells. In melting lead for the common occasions of
casting in small quantities, it is usually done in an iron
ladle: and as the whole is seldom poured out, the re¬
mainder which falls to the bottom of the ladle, cools
into a mass of the shape of that bottom. This is con¬
sequently a segment of a sphere, thickest in the middle,
and thinner towards the edges 5 nor is the ladle any ne¬
cessary part of the operation, since if a mass of lead be
cast in that form in a mould of earth or sand, in any
of these cases it is found to be very sonorous. Now if
this shape alone can give sound to a metal which in
other forms is perfectly mute, how much more must it
necessarily give it to other metals naturally sonorous
in whatever form ? It should seem, that bells would
much better perform their office in this than in any
other form : and that it must particularly be a thing
of great advantage to the small bells of common
house-clocks, which are required to have a shrill note,
and yet are not allowed any great size.” He adds,
“ that had our forefathers had opportunities of being
acquainted with the sound of metals in this shape, we
should probably have had all our bells at present of this
form.”
The use of bells is very ancient, as well as exten¬
sive. We find them among Jews, Greeks, Romans,
Christians, and Heathens, vai'iously applied ; as on
the necks of men, beasts, birds, horses, sheep: but
chiefly hung in buildings, either religious, as in
churches, temples, and monasteries j or civil, as in
houses, markets, baths j or military, as in camps and
frontier towns.
Among the Jews it was ordained, that the lower
part ot the blue tunic which the high priest wore
when he performed religious ceremonies, should be
adorned with pomegranates and gold bells, intermixed
equally and at equal distances. As to the number of
the bells worn by the high priest, the Scriptures are si¬
lent ; and authors are not very well agreed : but the sa¬
cred historian has let us into the use and intent of them
in these words (Exod. xxviii. 33—35.), “ And it shall
be upon Aaron to minister, and his sound shall be
heard when he goeth into the holy place before the
Lord, and when he cometh out, that he die not.”
The kings of Persia are said to have the hem of their
robes adorned like the Jewish high-priests with pome¬
granates and gold bells. It was in the opinion of
Cal met, with a design of giving notice that the high-
priest was passing by, that he wore little bells on the
hem of his robe ; or rather it was as it were a kind of
public notice that he wras going to the sanctuary : for,
as in the king of Persia’s court, no one was suffered
to enter the apartments without giving notice thereof
by the sound of something; so the high-priest, out of
respect to the divine presence residing in the holy of
holies, did, by the sound of little bells fastened to the
bottom of his robe, desire, as it were, permission to en¬
ter, that the sound of the bells might be heard, and he
not be punished with death for an unmannerly intru¬
sion. The figure ot these bells is not known to us.
The prophet Zachariah (xiv. 20.) speaks of bells hung
to war horses. “ In that day (says the prophet) there
shall be upon the bells of horses, Holiness unto the
Lord.”
Among the Greeks, those who went the nightly
rounds in camps or garrisons, carried with them a
little bell, which they rung at each centry box to see
that the soldiers on watch w’ere awake. A codono-
phorous or bellman also walked in funeral processions,
at a distance before the corpse, not only to keep off the
crowd, but to advertise thejlamen dialis to keep out of
the way, for fear of being polluted by the sight, or by
the funerary music. The priest of Proserpine at Athens,
called hierophantus, rung a bell to call the people to sa¬
crifice.
There were also bells in the houses of great men, ta
calLi
BEL [ 542 ] BEL
Bell. call up the servants in a morninjL- Zonaras assures us,
w—v- "■ that bells were hung with whips on the triumphal cha¬
riots of their victorious generals, to put them in mind
that they were still liable to public justice.
Bells were put on the necks ot criminals going to
execution, that persons might be warned by the noise
to get out of the way of so ill an omen as the sight
of the hangman or the condemned criminal, who was
devoted and just going to be sacrificed to the dii
manes.
For bells on the necks of brutes, express mention is
made of them in Phsedrus,—Celsa service eminens, Cla~
rumque collojactans tintinnabulum. Taking these bells
away was construed by the civil law, theft j and if the
beast was lost by this means, the person who took away
the bells was to make satisfaction.
*Hiiton; of As to the origin of church-bells, Mr Whittaker *,
Munches- observes. That bells being used, among other purposes,
by the Romans to signify the times of bathing, were
naturally applied by the Christians of Italy to denote
the hours of devotion, and summon the people‘to
church. The first application of them to this purpose
is, by Polydore Virgil and others, ascribed to Pau¬
linos bishop of Nola, a city of Campania, about the
year 400. Hence, it is said, the names nolce and cam-
panee were given them 5 the one referring to the city,
the other to the country. Though others say they took
the latter of these names, not from their being invented
in Campania, but because it was here the manner of
hanging and balancing them, now in use, was first
practised; at least they were hung on the model of
a sort of balance invented or used in Campania 5 for
in Latin writers we find campana statera, for a steel¬
yard : and in the Greek xapTravifyn, and ponder are,
“ to weigh.” In Britain, bells were applied to church-
purposes, before the conclusion of the seventh century,
in the monastic societies of Northumbria, and as early
as the sixth even in those of Caledonia. And they
were therefoi'e used from the first erection of parish-
churches among us. Those of France and England
appear to have been furnished with several bells. In
the time of Clothair II. king of France, and in the
year 6x0, the army of that king was frighted from the
siege of the city of Sens, by ringing the bells of St
Stephen’s church. The second excerption of Egbert,
about the year 750, which is adopted in a French ca¬
pitulary of 801, commands every priest, at the proper
hours, to sound the bells of his church, and then to
go through the sacred offices to God. And the coun¬
cil of Enham, in 1011, requires all the mulcts for sins
to be expended in the reparation of the church, cloth¬
ing, and feeding the minister of God, and the purchase
of church-vestments, church-books, and church-bells.
These were sometimes composed of iron in France j and
in England, as formerly at Rome, wei’e frequently made
of brass. And as early as the ninth century, there were
many cast of a large size and deep note.
Ingulphus mentions, that Turketulus, abbot of Croy-
land, who died about the year 870, gave a great bell
to the church of that abbey, which he named Guth-
lac ; and afterwards six others, viz. two which he call¬
ed Bartholomew and Bettelin, two called Turketul
and Tatwin, and two named Pega and Bega, all which
rang together ; the same author says, Non erat tunc
tania consonantia campanarum in tota Anglia. Not
long after, Kinseus archbishop of York gave two
great bells to the church of St John at Beverly, and
at the same time provided that other churches in his
diocese should be furnished with bells. Mention is
made by St Aldhem, and William of Malmesbury, of
bells given by St Dunstan to the churches in the west.
The number of bells in every church gave occasion to
the curious and singular piece of architecture in the
campanile or bell-tower ; an addition, which is more
susceptible of the grander beauties of architecture than
any other part of the edifice, and is generally there¬
fore the principle or rudiments of it. It was the con¬
stant appendage to every parish-church of the Saxons,
and is actually mentioned as such in the laws of Athel-
stan.
The Greek Christians are usually said to have been
unacquainted with bells till the ninth century, when
their construction was first taught them by a Venetian.
Indeed, it is not true that the use of bells was entirely
unknown in the ancient eastern churches, and that they
called the people to church, as at present, with wooden
mallets. Leo Allatius, in his dissertations on the Greek
temples, proves the contrary from several ancient wri¬
ters. It is his opinion, that bells first began to be dis¬
used among them after the taking of Constantinople
by the Turks •, who, it seems, prohibited them lest
their sound should disturb the repose of souls, which,
according to them, wander in the air. He adds that
they still retain the use of bells in places remote from
the intercourse of the Turks; particularly, very ancient
ones in Mount Athos. F. Simon thinks the Turks
prohibited the Christians the use of bells rather out of
political than religious reasons; inasmuch as the ring¬
ing of bells might serve as a signal for the execution of
revolts, &.c.
In the ancient monasteries we find six kinds of bells
enumerated by Durandus, viz. Squilla, rung in the
refectory; cijmbalum, in the cloister; nola, in the choir;
nolula or dUpla, in the clock ; campana, in the steeple ;
and signurn in the tower. Belethus has much the same;
only that for squilla, he puts tintinnabulum, and places
the campana in the tower, and campanella in the cloister.
Others place the tintinnabulum or tiniolum, in the refec¬
tory or dormitory ; and add another bell called corri-
giuncula, rung at the time of giving discipline, to call
the monks to be flogged. The cymbalum is sometimes
also said to have been rung in the cloister, to call the
monks to meat.
In the funeral monuments of Weever, are the follow¬
ing particulars relating to bells. “ Bells had frequently
these inscriptions on them :
“ Funera plango, Fulgura frango, Sabbata pango,
“ Excito lentos, Dissipo ventos, Paco cruentos.
“ In the little sanctuai’y at Westminster, King Ed¬
ward III. erected a clochier, and placed therein three
bells for the use of St Stephen’s chapel: about the big¬
gest of them wex-e cast in the metal these words:
“ King Edward made mee thirtie thousand weight and
three.
“ Take me down and wey mee, and more you shall
fynd mee.
“ But these bells being to be taken down in the reign of
King Henry VIII. one writes underneath with a coale:
“ But
BEL [ 543 ] BEL
•,.]L “ But Henry the eight
“ Will bait me of my weight.” Ibid. 492.
This last distich alludes to a fact mentioned by Stow
in his survey of London, ward of Farringdon Within ;
to wit, that near to St Paul’s school stood a clochier, in
which were four bells called Jesus’s bells, the greatest in
all England, against which Sir Miles Partridge staked
a hundred pounds, and won them of King Henry VIII.
at a cast of dice. Nevertheless it appears that abroad
there are bells of greater magnitude. In the steeple of
the great chureh at Roan in Normandy is a bell with
this inscription :
Je suis George d’Ambois,
Qui trente cinque mille pois.
Mais lui qui me pesera,
Trente six mille me trouvera.
I am George of Ambois,
Thirty-five thousand in pois :
But he that shall weigh me,
Thirty-six thousand shall find me. Ibid.
And it is a common tradition that the bells of King’s
college chapel, in the university of Cambridge, were
taken by Henry V. from some church in France, after
the battle of Agincourt. They were taken down some
years ago, and sold to Phelps the bell-founder in White¬
chapel, who melted them down.
The uses of bells were summed up in the following
distich, as well as that first above-mentioned :
Laudo TJcum verum, plehem voco, conjugo cleriim,
Defunctos ploro, pestem fugo,festa decoro.
Matthew Paris observes, than anciently the use of
bells was prohibited in time of mourning ; though at
present they make one of the principal ceremonies of
mourning. Mabillon adds, that it was an ancient cu¬
stom to ring the bells for persons about to expire, to
advertise the people to pray for them ; whence our pas¬
sing bells. The passing bell, indeed, was anciently
rung for two purposes : one, to bespeak the prayers of
all good Christians for a soul just departing : the other,
to drive away the evil spirits who stood at the bed’s
foot, and about the house, ready to seize their prey,
or at least to molest and terrify the soul in its passage:
but by the ringing of that bell (for Durandus informs
us, evil spirits are much afraid of bells), they were
kept aloof; and the soul, like a hunted hare, gained
the start, or had what is by sportsmen called luw.
Hence, perhaps, exclusive of the additional labour,
was occasioned the high price demanded for tolling the
greatest bell of the church j for that being louder,
the evil spirits must go farther oil’ to be clear of its
sound, by which the ppor soul got so much more the
start of them : besides, being heard farther off, it,
would likewise procure the dying man a greater num¬
ber of prayers. This dislike of spirits to bells is men¬
tioned in the Golden Legend, by W. de Worde. “ It
is said, the evil spirytes that ben in the regyon of
thayre, doubte moche when they here the belles ron-
gen: and this is the cause why the belles ben rongen
when it thondreth, and whan grete tempeste and out¬
rages of wether happen, to the ende that the feinds
and wycked spirytes shold be abashed and flee, and
cease of the movynge of tempeste.” Lobineau ob- Bell.
serves, that the custom of ringing bells at the ap- —-v—
proach of thunder, is of some antiquity } but that the
design was not so much to shake the air, and so dis¬
sipate the thunder, as to call the people to church to
pray that the parish might be preserved from that ter¬
rible meteor.
In the times of Popery, bells were baptized and
anointed oleo chrismatis: they were exorcised, and bles¬
sed by the bishop •, from a belief, that, when these cere¬
monies were performed, they had power to drive the
devil out of the air, to calm tempests, to extinguish fire,
and to recreate even the dead. The ritual for these
ceremonies is contained in the Roman pontifical; and
it was usual in their baptism to give to bells the name
of some saint. In Chauncy’s History of Hertfordshire,
page 383, is a relation of the baptism of a set of bells
in Italy with great ceremony, a short time before the
writing that book. The bells of the parish church of
Winnington in Bedfordshire had their names cast about
the verge of every one in particular, with these rhym¬
ing hexameters.
Nomina Campanis hcec indita sunt quoque nostris.
1. Hoc signum Petripulsatur nomine Christi.
2. Nomen Magdalene campana sonat melode.
3. Sit nomen Domini benedictum semper in eum.
4. Musa Paphaelis sonat auribus Immanuelis.
5. Sum Rosa pulsata mundique Maria vocata.
Weev. Fun. 122.
By an old chartulary,once in the possession of Weever
the antiquary, it appears that the bells of the priory of
Little Dunmow in F.ssex were, anno 1501, new cast,
and baptized by the following names:
Prima in honore Sancti Michaehs ArchnngelL
Secunda in honore S. Johannis Evangelisti.
Tertia in honore S. Johannis Raptisti.
(Juarta in honore Assumptionis beatce Maries..
Quinta in honore sanctes Trinitatis, et omnium sanc¬
torum. Ib. 633.
The bells of Osney abbey near Oxford were very
famous ; their several names were Douce, Clement,
Austin, Hautecter [potius Hautcleri], Gabriel, and
John.
Nankin in China was anciently famous for the
largeness of its bells 5 but their enormous weight
brought down the tower, the whole building fell to ruin,
and the bells have ever since lain on the ground. One
of these bells is near 12 English feet high, the diame¬
ter seven and a half, and its circumference 23 ; its fi- ,
cure almost cylindric, except for a swelling in the mid¬
dle 5 and the thickness of the metal about the edges
seven inches. From the dimensions of this bell, its
weight is computed at 50,000 pounds, which is more
than double the weight of that of Erfort, said by Fa¬
ther Kircher to be the greatest bell in the world.
These bells were cast by the first emperor of the pre¬
ceding dynasty, about 300 years ago. They have each
their name ; the hanger (tchoui), the eater (cA<?), the
sleeper {choui), the will {fi). Father le Compte adds,
that there are seven other bells in Pekin cast ia the
reign of Youlo, each of which weighs 120,000 pounds.
But the sounds even of their biggest bells are, very
poor j ,
BEL
fklt.
Hawkins's
History of
Music,
yoI. iv.
p. 15?.
poor; being struck with a wooden in lieu of an iron
clapper.
I lie practice of ringing bells in change, or regular
peals, is said to be peculiar to England : whence Bri¬
tain has been termed the ringing island. The custom
seems to have commenced in the time of the Saxons,
and was common before the Conquest. The ringing
of bells, though a recreation chiefly of the lower sort,
is in itself not incurious. The tolling a bell is nothing
more than the producing a sound by a stroke of the
dapper against the side of the bell* the bell itself being
in a pendant position and at rest. In ringing, the bell,
by means ot a wheel and a rope, is elevated to a per¬
pendicular ; in its motion to this situation the clapper
Strikes forcibly on one side, and in its return downwards
on the other side of the bell^ producing at each stroke a
sound. There are in London several societies of ring¬
ers, particularly one known by the name of the Col-
lege Youths i of this it is said Sir Matthew Hale, lord
chief justifce of the court of fling’s Bench, was, in his
youthful days, a member j and in the life of this learn¬
ed and upright judge, written by Bishop Burnet, some
facts are mentioned which favour this relation. In
England the practice of ringing is reduced to a science,
and peals have been composed which bear the name of
the inventors. Some of the most celebrated peals now
known were composed about yo years ago by one Pa¬
trick. I his man vras a maker of barometers : in his
advertisements he styled himself Torricellian Operator^
from Torricelli, who invented instruments of this kind.
In the year 1684, one Abraham Rudhall, of the city
of Gloucester, brought the art of bell-founding to great
perfection. His descendants in succession have conti¬
nued the business of casting bells ; and by a list pub¬
lished by them it appears, that at Lady-day 1774 the
family, in peals and odd bells, had cast to the amount
3594- The peals of St Hunstan’s in the East, and
St Bride’s, London, and St Martin’s in the Fields,
Westminster, are in the number.
The music of bells is altogether melody j but the
pleasure arising from it consists in the variety of inter¬
change, and the various succession and general predomi¬
nance of the consonances in the sounds produced. Mu¬
sical authors seem to have written but little upon this
subject.
iAectrical Bells are used in a variety of entertain¬
ing experiments by electricians. The apparatus, which
is originally of German invention, consists of three
small bells suspended from a narrow plate of metal j
the two outermost by chains, and that in the middle,
from which a chain passes to the floor, by a silken
string. Two small knobs of brass are also hung by
silken strings, one on each side of the bell in the mid¬
dle, which serve for clappers. When this apparatus
is connected with an electrified conductor, the outer¬
most bells suspended by the chains will be charged, at¬
tract the clappers, and be struck by them. The clap¬
pers becoming electrified likewise will be repelled by
these bells, and attracted by the middle bell, and dis¬
charge themselves upon it by means of the chain ex¬
tending to the floor. After' this, they will be again
attracted by the outermost bells; and thus, by strik¬
ing the bells alternately, occasion a ringing, which
may be continued at pleasure. Flashes of light will be
“freen in the dark between the bells and clappers j and
t 544 1
BEL
if the electrification be strong, the discharge will b©
made without actual contact, and the ringing will
cease. An apparatus of this kind, connected with one
of those conductors that are erected for securing build¬
ings from lightning, will serve to give notice of the ap¬
proach and passage of an electrical cloud.
BELL-Animal. See Animalcule, N° 24—28.
BELL-Metal. See Chemistry Index.
Bell, in Chemistry, denotes a glass vessel placed over
some matter in a state of exhalation, either to collect tha
vapour or gather the flowers. Chemical bells are a sort
of receptacles chiefly used in preparing the oil or spirit
of sulphur, for condensing fumes into a liquor.
JDiving-Bell. See Hiving.
BELL-Foundery. See Foundery.
BELL-Flower. See Campanula, Botany Index.
Bell-RocJc Light-House. See Supplement.
BELL-Weed. See Jacea, Botany Index.
BELLA, Stef ana de la, a most eminent engra¬
ver, was born at Florence A. H. 1610. His father
was a goldsmith ; and he himself began to work at his
father’s business. But whilst he was learning to draw,
in order to perfect himself in that profession, some of
the prints of Callot fell by accident into his hands j
with which he was so delighted, that he prevailed up¬
on his father to permit him to apply himself to engra¬
ving ; and he became the disciple of Canta Gallina, who
was also the instructor of Callot. He la Bella at first
imitated the manner of Callot. His abilities soon be¬
gan to manifest themselves : and as by degrees he ac¬
quired a facility in the handling of the point, he quit¬
ted the style in which he only shone as an imitator,
and adopted one entirely his own, which in freedom
and spirit is said even to have surpassed that of his fel¬
low disciple. He went to Paris A. H. 1642, where
he formed an acquaintance with Israel Silvestre, then
newly returned from Rome ; and he was much employ¬
ed by Henriette the uncle of Silvestre. Some time af¬
ter, Cardinal Richelieu engaged him to go to Arras,
and make drawings of the. siege and taking of that
town by the royal army ; which drawings he engraved
at his return. He also went to Holland, where, it is
reported, he saw some of the prints of Rembrandt Ger-
retsz, and attempted to imitate them : but finding he
did not succeed to his expectations, he dropped that
design, and continued to pursue his own manner, as
most suitable to his genius. After abiding some consi¬
derable time at Paris, his family affairs obliged him to
return to Florence j where he obtained a pension from
the Great Buke, and was appointed to instruct the
prince Cosmo his son in the art of design. Being sub¬
ject to violent pains in the head, his life was rendered
very uncomfortable by this cruel disorder, which at
last put an end to it A. H. 1664, when he was only
54 years of age. He la Bella drew very correctly,
and with great taste. His works manifest much ge¬
nius and vast fertility of invention. The fire and ani¬
mation which appear in them compensate for their
slightness 5 and we may reasonably expect to find
them slight when we are told that he engraved 1400
plates.
BELLAC. See Belac.
BELLAHONA, the trivial name of a species of
atropa. See Atropa, Botany Index.
BELLAI, William du, lord of Langey, a French
general*
B«ll
H
Bellai.
BEL t $45 ] BEL
Seliai, general, who signalized himself in the service of Fran-
Hannwi. cis I. He was also an able negociator, so that the em-
-v-”' peror Charles V. used to say, “ that Langey’s pen had
fought more against him than all the lances in France.”
He was sent to Piedmont in quality of viceroy, where
he took several towns from the Imperialists. His ad¬
dress in penetrating into the enemy’s designs was sur¬
prising. In this he spared no expence, and thereby
had intelligence of the most secret counsels of the em¬
peror and his generals. He was extremely active in
influencing some of the universities of France to give
their judgment agreeable to the desires of Henry VIII.
king of England, when this prince wanted to divorce
his queen, in order to marry Anne Bullen. It was
then the interest of France to favour the king of Eng¬
land in this particular, it being an affront to the em¬
peror, and a gratification to Henry, which might serve
to form a strict alliance between him and Francis I.
He was sent several times into Germany to the princes
of the Protestant league, and was made a knight of
the order of St Michael. He was also a man of
learning, having given proofs of his abilities and ge¬
nius as a writer. He composed several works •, the
most remarkable of which was, the History of his
Own Times, in Latin ; divided into ogdoades, that is*
several parts, each consisting of eight books 5 most of
which, however, have been lost. When Langey was
in Piedmont in 1542 he had some remarkable intelli¬
gence which he was desirous himself to communicate
to the king, and being very infirm, he ordered a litter
for his conveyance > but after having passed the moun¬
tain of Tarara, betwixt Lyons and Loan, he found
himself so extremely bad at St Saphorin that he was
obliged to stop there, where he died the 9th of Janu¬
ary, in the year 1543. He was buried in the church
of Mans, and a noble monument was erected to his
memory.
BELL ARM IN, Robert, an Italian Jesuit, one of
the best controversial writers of his time. In 1576 he
read lectures at Rome on controversies j which he did
with such applause, that Sixtus V. sending a legate into
France in 1590, appointed him as a divine, in case any
dispute in religion should happen to be discussed. He
returned to Rome, and was raised successively to dif¬
ferent offices, till at last, in 1599, he was honoured
with a cardinal’s hat *, to accept of which dignity, it is
said, they were obliged to force him by the threats of
an anathema. It is certain, that no Jesuit ever did
greater honour to his order than he ; and that no au¬
thor ever defended the cause of the Romish church in
general, and that of the pope in particular, to more
advantage. The Protestants have owned this sufficient¬
ly : for, during the space of 50 years, there was scarce¬
ly any considerable divine among them who did not
fix upon this author for the subject of his books of con¬
troversy. Notwithstanding the zeal with which this
Jesuit maintained the power of the pope over the tem¬
porality of kings, he displeased Sixtus V. in his work
De Romano Ponlifice, bv not insisting that the power
which Jesus Christ gave to his vicegerent was direct,
but only indirect ; and had the mortification to see it
put into the index of the inquisition, though it was
afterwards removed. He left, at his death, to the
Virgin Mary one half of his soul, and to Jesus Christ
the other.—Bellarmin is said to have been a man of
Vor,. III. Part II. f
great chastity and temperance, and remarkable for his Bdlarmui
patience. His stature was low, and his mien very jj
indifferent ; but the excellence of his genius might be Belleforest.
discovered from the traces of his countenance. He v
expressed himself with great perspicuity 5 and the words
which he first made use of to explain his thoughts were
generally so proper, that there appeared no rasure. in his
writings.
BELLATRIX, in Astronomy, a ruddy glittering
star of the second magnitude, in the left shoulder of O-
non. It takes its name from helium, as being anciently
supposed to have a great influence in kindling wars, and
forming warriors. Its longitude, according to Heve-
lius, for the year 1700, was 16° 47' 20" } and its lati¬
tude southward 160 52' 11".
BELLCLARE, a town of Ireland, in the province
of C onnaught, and county of Sligo. W. Long. 9. c,
N. Lat. 53. 56.
BELLE, a town of the French Netherlands, seated
in E. Long. 2. 40. N. Lat. 50. 45.
BELLEAU, Remi, a French poet, born at Nd-
gent le Rotrou, in the territory of Perche, and pro¬
vince of Orleanois. He lived in the family of Rena-
tus of Lorrain, marquis of Elbeuf, general of the
French galleys j and attended him in his expedition in¬
to Italy, in 1557* This prince highly esteemed Bel-
leau for his courage ; and having also a high opinion
of h is genius and abilities, entrusted him with the edu¬
cation of his son Charles of Lorrain. Belleau was one
of the seven poets of his time who were denominated
the French Pleiades. He wrote several pieces ; and
translated the odes of Anacreon into the French lan¬
guage, but in this he is thought not to have preserved
all the natural beauties of the original. His pastoral
pieces are in greatest esteem. His verses in that way
(according to his eulogists) are expressed with such
beauty and simplicity, that they seem to be a living pic¬
ture of what they describe. He also wrote an excel¬
lent poem on the nature and difl’erence of precious
stones, which by some has been reputed his best per¬
formance. Belleau died at Paris, in the family of the
duke d’Elbeuf, on the 6th of March, 1577. He was
interred in the church Des Peres Augustines, near the
Pont-neuf; several eulogiums were made to his me¬
mory.
BELLEFOREST, Francis de, a French author*
born in the province of Guienne, in 1530. He was
hut seven years of age when he lost his father } and his
mother was left in poor circumstances, but she contri¬
buted all in her power to his education. He was sup¬
ported some years by the queen of Navarre, sister to
Francis I. Some time after he went to study at Bour-
deaux $ thence he removed to Toulouse ; and at last
to Paris, where he got acquainted with several men of
learning, and was honoured with the friendship of many
persons of quality. He wrote, 1. A History of the
Nine Charles’s of France 5 2. Annotations on the
books of St Augustin ; 3. An universal History of
the World *, 4. The Chronicles of Nicholas Gillet,
augmented , 5. An universal Cosmography ; 6. An¬
nals, or a general History of France: and many other
works. In short, he supported his family by writing
books on whatever subject was proposed to him by the
booksellers, according to the taste of the public. He
died in 1583.
3 Z BELLEGARDE,
BEL [ 54<5 ] BEL
Bdlegarde, BELLEGARDE, a town of Franco, In the depart-
Belleisle. ment of the Eastern Pyrenees, on the frontiers of Cata-
'v Ionia. It is an important place on account of its being
a passage to the Pyrenean mountains. E. Long. 3. o.
N. Laf. 42. 20.
Bellegarde, a town of France, in the department
of Saone and Loire, seated on the river Saone, 15 miles
south-east of Chalons, in E. Long. 4. o. N. Lat. 46.
57-
BELLEISLE, an island of France, on the coast of
Brittany, 15 miles distant from it. This island is be¬
tween 12 and 13 leagues in circumference. It is a
mixture of craggy rocks and fertile soil ; but the inha¬
bitants are very poor, and the only trade carried on in
it is the curing of pilchards. There are three harbours
in the island, viz. Palais, Sahzon, and Goulford ; every
one of which labours under some capital defect, either
in being exposed, shallow, or dangerous in the entrance.
It contains only one little city called Le Palais, three
country towns, 103 villages, and 5570 inhabitants.
The island originally belonged to the earl of Cor-
nouaille j but was afterwards yielded to the king,
who in 1742 erected it into a duchy, in favour of
Marshal Belleisle. The town of Palais takes its name
from a castle which belonged to the duke de Belleisle,
wfiich stood in its neighbourhood ; but was afterwards
converted into a citadel frontingthesea,strongly fortified.
Its fortifications are composed principally of hornworks ;
and it is provided with two dry ditches, the one next
the counterscarp, and the other so contrived as to secure
the interior fortifications. This citadel is divided from
the largest part of the town by an inlet of the sea, over
which there is a bridge of communication. From the
other part of the town, and which is most inhabited,
it is only divided by its own fortifications and a glacis.
In this state rvas the island in 1761, when an expedi¬
tion was undertaken against it by a British fleet under
the command of Commodore Reppel, having on board
a considerable land force commanded by General Hodg¬
son. The fleet sailed from Spithead on the 29th of
March, and arrived before Belleisle on the 7th of April.
The next day it was agreed to attempt a landing on the
south-east part of the island, in a sandy bay, near Loch-
mana point. Here the enemy were in possession of a
little fort; they had moreover entrenched themselves
on a hill excessively steep, the foot of which was scar¬
ped away. The attempt was made in three places with
great resolution ; but the British were at last repulsed
with the loss of 500 men. It was not before the 25th
of April that the weather allowed a second attempt.
This was made on a very strong place, where the enemy
were rather less attentive, on account of the excessive
steepness and difficulty of climbing up the rocks. Be¬
sides the principal attack, two feints were made at the
same time to distract the enemy, while the men of war
directed their fire with great success on the hills. The-e
manoeuvres gave Brigadier-general Lambert, with a
handful of men, an opportunity of climbing up a very
steep rock without molestation. This little body formed
themselves in good order without delav, and wrere im¬
mediately attacked by 300 French. The British, how¬
ever, sustained this attack until the whole corps of Bri¬
gadier Lambert, which had now likewise ascended,
came to their assistance, with who«e help they repulsed
the enemy. The landing of all the forces being soon
2
after made good, the French were driven into the town Bdleislr
of Palais. Here the chevalier de St Croix who com- Bellendeli
manded them, a brave and experienced officer, resolved v  v1—*
to bold out to the last extremity j and it was not till
the 7th of June that he capitulated, and the garrison
marched out with the honours of war. The island,
however, was restored to the French by the treaty con¬
cluded in 1763.
Belleisie, an island of North America, lying at
the mouth of the strait between the country of the
Esquimaux, or New Britain, and the north end of
Newfoundland j w'hence the straits take also the name
of Belleisle. W. Long. 58. 5. N. Lat. 51. 50.
BELLENDEN, or Ballantine, William, a
Scotch writer who flourished in the beginning of the
17th century, was professor of humanity or belles lettres
at Edinburgh, and master of requests to James I. of Eng¬
land. But the former is supposed to have been only
nominal, or early given up, and the latter also to have
consisted in the name only, since he appears to have re¬
sided almost constantly at Paris, where by the favour of
his sovereign, he wTas enabled to live in easy circum¬
stances. There he published, in i6c8, his Cicero Prin~
ceps, a singular work 5 in which he extracted from Cice¬
ro’s writings detached passages, and comprised them into
one regular body, containing the rules of monarchical
government, with the line of conduct to be pursued,
and the virtues proper to be encouraged, by the prince
himself: and the treatise, when finished, he dedicated,
from a principle of patriotism and gratitude, to the
son of his master, Henry, then prince of Wales. Four
years afterwards, namely, in 1612, he proceeded to
publish another work of a similar nature, which he
called Cicero Consul, Senator Senatusque Romanus, in
which he treated, with much perspicuity, and a fund x
of solid information, on the nature of the consular
office, and the constitution of the Roman senate.
Finding these w’oiks received, as they deserved, with
the unanimous approbation of the learned, he conceived
the plan of a third work, De Statu prisci Oibisy
which was to contain a history of the progress of go¬
vernment and philosophy, from the times before the
flood to their various degrees of improvement under
the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans. He proceeded
so far as to print a few copies of this work, in the year
l6r5, when it seems to have been suggested that his
treatises, De Statu Principis, De Statu Rcipvhlicce,
and De Statu Qrbis, being on subjects so nearly resem¬
bling each other, there might be a propriety in uniting
them into one work, by republishing the two former,
and entitling the whole Bellendenus De Statu. With
this view, he recalled the few copies of his last work
that were abroad, and after a delay of some months,
published the three treatises together, under their new
title, in 1616. These pieces have been lately reprinted
by an ingenious political editor, who has thought pro¬
per to inscribe them to Mr Burke, Lord North, and
Mr Fox, whose respective portraits are prefixed to cat h
dedication, and whose talents and virtues lie celebrates
and defends in a preface of 76 pages, containing a very
free and bold discussion of onr public men and mea¬
sures in very classical language, and a strong and sati¬
rical representation, under borrowed names of antiquity,
of the chiefs of the other party, or the present ministry.
Beilenden wrote another work, published after his
death,
BEL [ 547 1 BEL
j HeRilcn death, De tribus Luminibus Romanorum, whom he
(j conceives to be Cicero, Seneca, and the elder Pliny.
Bt-iies 'j'hg editor gives an account of this work, from whence
u^tri *' , he took his idea of drawing his characters of the three
luminaries of Great Britain. He marks the proficiency
in Greek and Roman literature which once distinguish¬
ed the Scotch, before the civil dissensions drove their
brightest geniuses abroad, and celebrates the ardour for
philosophy and literature so prevalent in North Britain
at present. Dr Middleton has been charged with bor-
rowing not only the matter, but the arrangement, of
his “ Life of Cicero,” from Bellenden, without the least
acknowledgment, and the editor confesses himself of
this opinion. It is surprising how little is known of
Bellendeu or his writings : concerning his lineage, birth,
private life, and death, no notices have been transmitted
even by tradition.
BELLEROPHON, in fabulous history, the son of
Glaucus king of Epirus, happening accidentally to kill
his brother, fled to Proetus king of Argos, who gave
him a hospitable reception : but Sthenobea, bis queen,
failing in love with the beautiful stranger, and finding
that nothing could induce him to injure his benefactor,
she accused him to her husband of an attempt to violate
her honour. Proetus, however, not being willing to
act contrary to the laws of hospitality, sent him to lo-
bates king of Lysia, and the father of Sthenobea, with
letters desiring him to be put to death : whence the
proverb Bellerophontis Uterus afferet, equivalent to Li¬
ter a; Urice. That prince, at the receipt of these letters,
was celebrating a festival of nine days, which prevented
Bellerophon’s destruction. lobates, however, sent him
in the mean time to subdue the Solymi, the Amazons,
and Lysians, and thought to get rid of him by expo¬
sing him to the greatest dangers j but by his prudence
and courage he came off victorious. lobates next em¬
ployed him to destroy the Chimsera j when Minerva or
according to others, Neptune, in consideration of his
innocence, furnished him with the horse Pegasus, by
whose assistance he killed the Chimasra. lobates, on his
return, being convinced of his truth and integrity, and
charmed with his heroic virtues, gave him his daughter
Philonoe in marriage, and declared him his successor:
which when Sthenobea heard, she^killed herself. Bel-
lerophon at length growing vain with his prosperity,
resolved, by the assistance of Pegasus, to ascend the
skies; when Jupiter checked his presumption, by stri¬
king him blind in his flight; on which he fell down to
the earth, and wandered till his death in contempt and
misery : but Pegasus mounting into heaven, Jupiter
placed him among the constellations.
BELLES LETTRES. Whether we consult the vo¬
luminous dictionaries of the French language, or those
treatises that profess to point out the method of study¬
ing and teaching the belles lettres, we find not, in
the one or the other, either a clear definition, or a suc¬
cinct explication of the words belles lettres, nor any
summary of those sciences which are comprehended un¬
der that general and collective denomination. It ap¬
pears to be a vague term, under which every one may
include whatever he thinks proper. Sometimes we
are told, that by the belles lettres is meant, the know¬
ledge of the arts of poetry and oratory ; sometimes
that the true belles lettres are natural philosophy, geo¬
metry, and other essential parts of learning; and some¬
times, that they comprehend the art of war, by land Jlellc*
and sea : in short, they are made to include all that we L,eUt:es
know, and whatever we please ; so that, in treating on H.
the belles lettres, they talk of the use of the sacra- Bclviini' .
ments, &c.*. Some comprehend under the term, all *
those instructive and pleasing sciences which occupy the Belles
the memory and the judgment, and do not make part Lettres.
either of the superior sciences, of the polite artsf, or f See Art*,
of mechanic professions; hence they make history,
chronology, geography, genealogy, blazonry, philology,
&z.c. the belles jetties. In a word, it were an endless
task to attempt to enumerate all the parts of literature
which different learned men have comprehended under
this title. Nor would it be of any use to the reader
for us to pretend to fix the true import of the term.
Whatever arts or sciences it may be supposed to in¬
clude, they are severally explained in the course of this
work.
BELLE VILLE, a town of France, in the department
of the Rhone, seated near the river Saone. E. Long*
4. 46. N. Lat. 45. 5.
BELLEVOIS, painter of sea-pieces, is know*
through all parts of Europe as a good painter, though
no particulars have been handed down concerning his
life. He died in 1684. subjects are Views of ha¬
vens, sea ports, shores, calms, and storms at sea ; but in
his calms he shows his peculiar excellence. Pictures of
this master are often in public sales ; and some of them,
which seem of his best style, are sold for a tolerable
price.
BELLEY, or Bellay, a town of France, and ca¬
pital of Bujey, in the department of Ain, containing
3800 inhabitants in 1816. It is seated near the river
Rhone. E. Long. 5. 50. N. Lat. 45. 43.
BELLINGHAM, a town of Northumberland iti
England. W. Long. 2. IQ. N. Lat. 55. 10.
BELLINI, Gentil, a Venetian painter, born in
the year 1421. He was employed by the republic of
Venice ; and to him and his brother the Venetians are
indebted for the noble works which are to be seen in
the council-hall. We are told that Mahomet II. em¬
peror of the Turks, having seen some of his perform¬
ances, was so struck with them, that he wrote to the
republic, entreating them to send him. The painter
accordingly went to Constantinople, where he did many
excellent pieces. Among the rest, he painted the de¬
collation of St John the Baptist, whom the Turks re¬
vere as a great prophet. Mahomet admired the pro¬
portion and shadowing of the work ; but he remarked
one defect in regard to the skin of the neck, from
which the head was separated; and in order to prove
the truth of his observation, he sent for a slave and or¬
dered his head to be struck off. The sight so shocked
the painter, that he could not be easy till he had ob¬
tained his dismission; which the grand signior granted,
and made him a present of a gold chain. The republic
settled a pension upon him at his return, and made him
a knight of St Mark. He died in 1501, in the 80th
year of his age.
John Bellini, his brother, painted with more art and
sweetness. He died in 1512, aged 90.
Bellini, Laurence, an eminent physician, born at
Florence in the year 1643. After having finished
his studies in polite literature, he went to Pisa, where
he was assisted by the generosity of the grand duke Fer-
3 Z 2 dioand
BEL [ 548
tlinaiid CT. and studied under two of the most learned
men of that age, Oliva and Borelli. Oliva instructed
him in natural philosophy, and Borelli taught him ma¬
thematics. At 20 years of age, he was chosen profes¬
sor of philosophy at Pisa, but did not long continue in
this office 5 for he had acquired such a reputation for
his skill in anatomy, that the grand duke procured him
a professorship in that science. This prince was often
present at his lectures, and was highly satisfied with
his abilities and performances. Bellini, after having
held his professorship almost 30 years, accepted of an
invitation to Florence, when he was about 50 years of
age. Here he practised physic with great success, and
was advanced to be first physician to the grand duke
Cosmo IIF. He wrote the following books in La¬
tin : 1. An Anatomical discourse on the Structure and
Use of the Kidneys. 2. A Speech by way of thanks
to the serene duke of Tuscany. 3. Some Anatomical
Observations, and a proposition in Mechanics. 4. Of
the Urine and Pulse, of Blood-letting, Fevers, and dis¬
eases of the Head and Breasts. 5. Several Tracts con-
o ‘rning Urine, the motion of the Heart, and Bile, &c.
He died January 8. 1703, being 60 years of age. His
works were read and explained publicly during his life,
by the famous Scotch physician Hr Pitcairn, professor
of physic in Leyden.
BELLINZONA, a town of Italy, in the Milanese,
and one of the bailiwicks which the Swiss possess in
that country. It is seated on the river Tesino, five miles
above the place where it falls into the Lago Maggiore,
and is fortified with two strong castles formerly joined
together by a wall Hanked with towers ; but the Swiss
have demolished a part of the fortifications. E. Long.
9. o. N. Lat. 46. 8.
BELLIS, the Daisy. See Botany Index.
Bellis Major. See Chrysanthemum, Botany
Index.
BELLON, a distemper common in countries where
they smelt lead-ore. It is attended with languor, in¬
tolerable pains and sensations of gripings in the bel-
IjV and generally costiveness.—Beasts, poultry, &c. as
well as men, are subject to this disorder: hence a
certain space round the smelting-houses is called bellon-
,ground, because it is dangerous for an animal to feed
upon it.
BELLONA, in Pagan Mythology, the goddess of
war, is generally reckoned the sister of Mars, and some
represent her as both his sister and wife. She is said to
have been the inventress of the needle ; and from that
instrument is supposed to have taken her name BsAomj,
signifying a needle. This goddess was of a cruel and
savage disposition, delighting in bloodshed and slaugh¬
ter ; and was not only the attendant of Mars, but took
a pleasure in sharing his dangers. She is commonly re¬
presented in an attitude expressive of fury and distrac¬
tion, her hair composed of snakes clotted with gore,
and her garments stained with blood : she is generally
depictured driving the chariot of Mars, with a bloody
whip in her hand j but sometimes she is drawn holding
a lighted torch or brand, and at others a trumpet. Bel-
lona had a temple at Rome, near the Circus Flaminius,
before which stood the column of war, from whence
the consul threw his lance when he declared war.
She was also worshipped at Comana, in Cappadocia ;
and Camden observes, that in the time of the emperor
BEL
Severus, there was a temple of Bellona in the city of Betio;i&
York. ' k'
BELLONARII, in antiquity, priests of Bellona,
the goddess of wars and battles. The bellonarii cut 'r*J
and mangled their bodies with knives and daggers in a
cruel manner, to pacily the deity. In this they are
singular, that they offered their own blood, not that of
other creatures, in sacrifice. In the fury and enthu¬
siasm wherewith they were seized on these occasions,
they ran about raging, uttering prophecies, and fore¬
telling blood and slaughter, devastations of cities, re¬
volutions of states, and the like : whence Martial calls
them turba entheata Bellonce. In after-times, they
seem to have abated much of their zeal and transport,
and to have turned the whole into a kind of farce, con¬
tenting themselves with making signs and appearances
of cutting and wounds. Lampridius tells us, the em¬
peror Commodus, out of a spirit of cruelty, turned the
farce again into a tragedy, obliging them to cut and
mangle their bodies really.
BELLONIA (so named from the famous Petrus
Bellonius, who left many valuable tracts on natural
history, &c.), a genus of the monogynia order, belong¬
ing to the pentandria class of plants. Of this genus
there is only one species known, viz. the aspera, rvith
a rough balm leaf. This is very common in the warm
islands of America.
BELLORI, John Peter, of Rome; a celebrated
antiquary and connoisseur in the polite arts; author
of the lives of the modern painters, architects, and
sculptors, and of other works on antiquities and me¬
dals. He died in 1696.
BELLO VAC l, in Ancient Geography, a people of
Gallia Belgica, reckoned the bravest of the Belgm:
now Beauvasis, in the Isle of France.
BELLOWS, a machine so contrived as to exspire
and inspire the air by turns, by enlarging and con¬
tracting its capacity. This machine is used in cham¬
bers and kitchens, in forges, furnaces, and founderies,
to blow up the fire : it serves also for organs and other
pneumatic instruments, to give them a proper degree
of air. All these are of various constructions, accord¬
ing to their different purposes j but in general they are
composed of two flat boards, sometimes of an oval,
sometimes of a triangular figure: Two or more hoops,
bent according to the figure of the boards, are placed
between them*, a piece of leather, broad in the middle,
and narrow at both ends, is nailed on the edges of
the boards, which it thus unites together 5 as also on
the hoops which separate the boards, that the leather
may the easier open and fold again : a tube of iron,
brass, or copper, is fastened to the undermost board,
and there is a valve within, that covers the holes in
the under board to keep in the air.
Anacharsis the Scythian is recorded as the inventor
of bellows. The action of bellows bears a near affini¬
ty to that of the lungs j and what we call blowing in
the former, affords a good illustration of what is called
respiring in the latter. Animal life itself may on
some occasions be subsisted by blowing into the lungs
with a pair of bellows. Dr Hooke’s experiment to
this effect is famous : having laid the thorax of a dog
bare, by cutting away the ribs and diaphragm, pericar¬
dium, &c. and having cut off the aspera arteria below
ths epiglottis, and bound it on the nose of a bellows,
he-
BEL
flJtows
„ [ 549
he found, that as he blowed, the dog recovered, and as
he ceased, fell convulsive ; and thus was the animal
BeWt»ncy.kept alternately alive and dead above the space of an
u'v hour. There are bellows made wholly of wood, with¬
out any leather about them j one of which is preserved
in the repository of the Royal Society 5 and Dr Plot
describes another in the copper-works at Ellaston in
Staffordshire. Ant. della Fruta contrived a substitute
for bellows, to spare the expence thereof in the fusion
ol metals. I his is called by Kircher camera ceolia,
and in England commonly the water-bellows; where
water falling through a funnel into a close vessel, sends
from it so much air continually as blows the lire. See
the article l urnace, where different blowing machines
of this kind are described.
Smiths and founders bellows, whether single or
double, are wrought by means of a rocker, with a
string or chain fastened thereto, which the workman
pulls. The bellows pipe is fitted into that of the
tewel. One of the boards is fixed, so as not to play
at all. By drawing down the handle of the rocker,
the moveable board rises, and by means of a weight
on the top of the upper board, sinks again. The
bellows of forges and furnaces of mines usually re¬
ceive their motion from the wheels of a water-mill.
Others, as the bellows of enaniellers, are wrought by
means of one or more steps or treddles under the work¬
man’s feet. Lastly, the bellows of organs are wrought
by a man called the blower; and in small organs by the
foot of the player. Butchers have also a kind of blast
or bellows of a peculiar make, by which they bloat or
blow up their meat when killed, in order to piecing or
parting it the better.
Bone-BELLOivs, (pvinflngt; omutH, occur in Herodotus
for those applied by the Scythians to the genitals
of mares, in order to distend the uterus, and by this
compression make them yield a greater quantity of
milk.
Hessian Bellows are a contrivance for driving air
into a mine lor the respiration of the miners. This
M. Papin improved, changing its cylindrical form in¬
to a spiral one ; and with this, working it only with
his foot, he could make wind to raise a two pound
weight.
Hydrostatic Bellows. See Hydrostatics.
BELLUNESE, a territory of Italy, formerly be¬
longing to the Venetians, but now to the Austrians. It
lies between Friuli, Codorino, Feltriuo, the bishopric
of I rent and Tirol. It has good iron mines, but the
only considerable place is Belluno.
BELLUNO, a town of Italy, in the Austrian terri¬
tories, and capital of the Bellunese. It is a bishop’s
see; and is situated among the Alps, on the river Piave,
between the towns Cadora and Trevigni, in E. Long.
12. 15. N. Lat. 46. 9.
BELLY, in Anatomy, the same with what is more
usually called abdomen. See Anatomy Index.
BELMONTE, a town of Italy, in the hither Ca¬
labria, and kingdom of Naples. It is situated on the
coast of the Tuscan sea. E. Long. 16. 50. N. Lat.
30. 20.
BELOMANCY; Belomantia, a kind of divina¬
tion by means of arrows, practised in the east, but
chiefly among the Arabians.. The word is of Greek
]
BEL
compounded of /SsAej, arrow, and (asd/tucc, diet'- Belomajicy
origin :
nation.
Belomancy has been performed in different manners. Udshazaais
One was to mark a parcel ot arrows, and put 11 or v
more of them into a bag : these were afterwards drawn
out; and according as they were marked or not, they
judged of future events.
Another way was to have three arrows, upon one
of which was wrote, “ God orders it me upon an¬
other, “ God forbids it meand upon the third
nothing at all. Hiese were put into a quiver, out
of which they drew one of the three at random ; if it
happened to be that with the first inscription, the thing
they consulted about was to be done : if it chanced to
be that with the second inscription, it was let alone :
but if it proved that without inscription, they drew' over
again.
Belomancy is an ancient practice, and probably that
which Ezekiel mentions, chap. xxi. 21. At least St
Jerome understands it so, and observes that the practice
was frequent among the Assyrians and Babylonians.
Something like it is also mentioned in Hosea, chap. iv.
only that staves are there mentioned instead of arrows,
which is rather rhabdomancy than belomancy. Gro-
tius, as well as Jerome, confounds the two together,
and shows that it prevailed much among the Magi,
Chaldeans, and Scythians; whence it passed to the Scla-
vonians, and thence to the Germans, whom Tacitus ob¬
serves to make use of it.
BELON, Peter, of Le Mans, the capital of Le
Maine, a province of France, flourished about the mid¬
dle of the 16th century. He published several books
in Latin. Fie wrote, in French, of birds, beasts,
fishes, serpents, and the neglected culture of plants ,
and a book of travels, or observations of many singu¬
larities and memorable things found in Greece, Asia,
Judtea, Egypt, and other foreign countries. He was
murdered near Paris by one of his enemies, in 1564.
BELONE. See Esox, Ichthyology Index.
BELOOCHISTAN, a country of Asia, situated oa
the north-west of Kindostan. See Supplement.
BELSHAZZAR, the last king of Babylon, gene¬
rally supposed to be the son of Evil-merodach, and
grandson to the great Nebuchadnezzar.—During the
time that Babylon was besieged by Cyrus, Belshazzar
made an entertainment for a thousand of his most emi¬
nent courtiers ( Dan. v. 1. &c.) ; and being heated with
wine, ordered that the vessels of gold and silver which
his grandfather Nebuchadnezzar had taken out of the
temple at Jerusalem might be brought to the banquet¬
ing house, that he and his princes, together with his
wives and concubines, might drink out of them, which
accordingly was done; and to add to their profauencss,,
in the midst of their cups, they sang songs in praise of
their several idols. But it was not long before a damp
was put to the king’s mirth, by a hand appearing
upon the wall, which in three words wrote the sentence
of his condemnation. The king saw the hand that
wrote ; and being exceedingly affrighted, commanded,
all his wise men, magicians, and astrologers, to be im¬
mediately called, that they might read the writing
and explain its meaning. When they came, the king
promised, that whoever should expound this writing
should be made the third person of his kingdom in place
ami
BEL [ 550 ] BEL
BcWmrar, ant^ power. But the Magi could comprehend nothing
Belt*. of this writing ; which increased the disorder and un-
’■"““V" easiness that the king was in, together with his whole
court: whereupon, at the instance of the queen-mo¬
ther, Daniel was sent for. The king made him the
same offer of honours and presents that he had done to
his own magicians if he would explain the writing.
Daniel modestly refused those offers: but having un¬
dertaken to perform what he required of him, he first
reproved the king with great freedom for his ingrati¬
tude to God, who had advanced him to the rank of a
sovereign, and for the profanation of the vessels which
were consecrated to his service j and then proceeded to
the interpretation of the words, which were these,
Mene, Tekel, Upharsin. Mene, says he, which signi¬
fies number', intimates, that the days both of ^our life
and reign are numbered, or that you have but a short
time to live $ Tekel, which signifies weight, intimates,
that you have been weighed in the balance of God’s
justice, and found too light; and Upharsin, (or Peres,
as Daniel has it, and means the same thing), which
signifies a fragment, intimates, that your kingdom shall
be divided and given to the Medes and Persians. Which
accordingly came to pass : for that very night, in the
midst of their feasting and revelling, the city was taken
by surprise, Belshazzar slain, and the kingdom translated
to Cyaxares, whom the Scripture calls Darius the Mecle.
See Babylon.
BELT, the Great, a famous strait of Denmark, be¬
tween the island of Zeeland and that of Funen, at the
entrance of the Baltic sea. It is not, however, so com¬
modious, nor so much frequented as the Sound. In 1658
the whole strait was frozen so hard, that Charles Gus-
tavus king of Sweden marched over it with a design to
take Copenhagen.
Belt, the Lesser, lies to the west of the Great Belt,
between the island of Funen and the coast of Jutland.
It is one of the passages from the German ocean to the
Baltic, though not three miles in breadth, and very
crooked.
Belt, Baltheus, properly denotes a kind of military
girdle, usually of leather, wherewith the sword or other
weapons are sustained.—Belts are known among the
ancient and middle-age writers by divers names, as £*yn,
%ona, cingulum, reminiculum, rinca or ringa, and
baldrellus. The belt was an essential piece of the an¬
cient armour $ insomuch that we sometimes find it used
to denote the whole armour. In later ages, the belt
was given to a person when he was raised to knight¬
hood ; whence it has also been used as a badge or mark
of the knightly order.
The denomination belt is also applied to a sort of
bandages in use among surgeons, &c. Thus we meet
with quicksilver belts, used for the itch ; belts for keep¬
ing the belly tight, and discharging the water in the
operation of tapping, &c.
Belt, is also a frequent disease in sheep, cured by
cutting their tails off, and laying the sore bare j then
casting mould on it, and applying tar and goose
grease.
Belts, in Astronomy, two zones or girdles sur¬
rounding the body of the planet Jupiter. See Astro¬
nomy.
Belts, in Geography, certain straits between the
German ocean and the Baltic. The Belts belong to
the king of Denmark, who exacts a toll from all ships
which pass through them, excepting those of Sweden, ||
which are exempted. Belus.
BEL-TEIN, a superstitious custom observed intheW~'r,*,
Highlands of Scotland. It is a kind of rural sacrifice,
performed by the herdsmen of every village on the first
of May. They cut a square trench in the ground, Poownf,
leaving a turf in the middle : on that they make a fire Tour.
of wood, on which they make a large caudle of eggs,
butter, oatmeal, and milk j and bring, besides the in¬
gredients of the caudle, plenty of beer and whisky j for
each of the company must contribute something. The
rites begin with spilling some of the caudle on the
ground, by way of libation : on that, every one takes a
cake of oatmeal, upon which are raised nine square
knobs, each dedicated to some particular being, the sup¬
posed preserver of their flocks and herds, or to some par¬
ticular animal, the real destroyer of them : each person
then turns his face to the fire, breaks off a knob, and
flinging it over his shoulder, says, This 1 give to thee,
preserve thou my horses ; this to thee, preserve thou my
sheep ; and so on. After that, they use the same cere¬
mony to the noxious animal : This I give to thee, O
fox ! spare thou my lambs; this to thee, O hooded crow !
this to thee, 0 eagle ! When the ceremony is over, they
dine on the caudle ; and after the feast is finished, what
is left is hid by two persons deputed for that purpose ;
but on the next Sunday they re-assemble and finish the
reliques of the first entertainment.
BELTUIIBET, a town of Ireland in the county of
Cavan, and province of Ulster, situated on the river
Earn, in W. Long. 7. 35. N. Lat. 54. 7.
BELTZ, or Belzo, a province of Poland, which
fell to the share of Austria in 1795. It was afterwards
annexed to Bonaparte’s kingdom of Poland, but was
restored to Austria in 1815.
Beltz, or Bel'zo, a town of Austrian Poland, and
capital of the province of the same name, seated on the
confines of Upper Volhynia, among marshes, in E. Long.
24. N. Lat. 50. 5.
BELVEDERE, in the Italian Architecture, &c.
denotes either a pavilion on the top of a building, or
an artificial eminence in a garden j the word literally
signifying a fine prospect.
Belvedere, a considerable town of Greece, and
capital of a province of the same name in the Morea.
The province lies on the western coast : it is the most
fertile and rich in all the Morea; and from it the rai¬
sins called Belvederes take their name. The town is
situated in E. Long. 22. o. N. Lat. 38. 5.
BELVIDERE. See Chenofodium, Botany I«-
dex.
BELUNUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of Rhse-
tia, above Feltria, in the territory of the Veneti; now
Belluno, capital of the Bellunese in the territory of Ve¬
nice. See Belluno.
BELUS, in Ancient Geography, a small river of
Galilee, at the distance of two stadia from Ptolemais,
running from the foot of Mount Carmel out of the lake
Cendevia. Near this place, according to Josephus,
was a round hollow or valley, where was a kind of
sand fit for making glass ; which, though exported in
great quantities, was found to be inexhaustible. Strabo
says, the whole of the coast from Tyre to Ptolemais
has a sand fit for making glass j but that the sand of
BEN C 551 1 BEN
jus the rivulet Belus and its neighbourhood is a better sort;
and here, according to Pliny, the making of glass was
first discovered.
BEMA, in antiquity, denotes a step or pace. The
bema made a kind of itinerary measure among the
Greeks, the length of which was equivalent to one cu¬
bit and two thirds, or to ten palms. Whence ttlso the
term bematvzem, to measure a road.
Bema, in ecclesiastical writers, denotes the altar or
sanctuary in the ancient churches. In which sense be-
ma made the third or innermost part of the church,
answering to the chancel among us.
Bema was also used for the bishop’s chair, seat, or
throne, placed in the sanctuary. It was called bema
from the steps by which it was to be ascended.
Bema was also used for the reader’s desk. This in
the Greek church was denominated fapct yvorui, in the
Latin church ambo.
Bema is more peculiarly used for the Manichees al¬
tar, which was in a different place from that of the Ca¬
tholics.
Bema was also a denomination given by this sect to
the anniversary of the day when Manes was killed,
which with them was a solemn feast and day of rejoi¬
cing. One of the chief ceremonies of the feast consist¬
ed in setting out and adorning their bema or altar with
great magnificence.
B EM BE A, a province of the kingdom of Angola
in Africa. It is divided into Higher and Lower; and
extends on one side along the sea, and on the other di¬
vides Angola from the foreign states on the south. The
country is large, populous, and abounding with cattle ;
with the fat of which the inhabitants anoint their heads
and bodies, and clothe themselves with their hides
coarsely dressed. They are addicted to the same ido¬
latrous superstitions with the rest of the natives, but
speak a quite different language. The province is wa¬
tered by a river called Lutano or San Francisco, which
abounds with crocodiles, sea-horses, and monstrous ser¬
pents, that do a great deal of mischief.
BEMBO, Peter, a noble Venetian, secretary to
Leo X. and afterwards cardinal, was one of the best
writers of the 16th century. He was a good poet both
in Italian and Latin ; but he is justly censured for the
looseness and immodesty of some of his poems. He pub¬
lished, besides these, A History of Venice ; Letters ;
and a book in praise of the duke and duchess ofUrbi-
no. He died in 1547, in the yjtd year of his age.
BEMSTER, or Bemister, a town of Dorsetshire
in England, seated on the river Bert, containing 2290
inhabitants in i8n. W. Long. 3. 1 c. N. Lat. fo. 4?.
BEN. See Behn.
Ben, in Pharmactf, the name of an exotic purgative
fruit, of the size and figure of a out; whence it is also
called the ben nut, sometimes balanus myrepsica, or
glans unvuenlaria.
Naturalists d istinguisli two kinds of bens : viz. the
great, ben magnum, which resembles the filbert, and
is by some called avellana purgatrix, brought from
America; and the small, ben jxtrvum, brought from
Ethiopia.
Ben nuts yield, by expression, much oil, which from
its property of not becoming rancid, at least for years,
is used as a menstruum for the extraction of the odo¬
riferous parts of the flowers of jessamin, violets, roses,
hyacinths, lilies of the valley, tuberoses, jonquils, clove Ben
julvflowers, and others which like these yield little or [j
no essential oil by distillation, but impart their fragrance Bench,
to expressed oils. The method of impregnating oil of * vn
ben with the odour ol flowers is this: Some fine carded
cotton is dipped in the oil, and put in the bottom of a
proper vessel. On this is spread a thick layer of fresh
flowers, above which more cotton dipt in oil is placed ;
and thus alternately flowers and cotton are disposed, till
the vessel (which may be made of tin, with a cover to
be screwed on to it, or of porcelain) is full. By di¬
gestion during 24 hours in a water-bath, the oil will
receive the odour of the flowers.
BENARES, a district of Hindostan Proper in the
East Indies, which lies between Bahar and Oude ; and
comprehends the circars of Benares, Jionpour, Chunar,
and Ga^ypour. It was ceded to the English in 1775 ;
but only came entirely into their hands in 1781, when
the rajah was expelled.
Benares, a populous city in the East Indies, and
capital ot the district of the same name. It is situated
on the north side of the Ganges, which is here very
broad and the banks are very high. Benares has been
much celebrated as the ancient seat of Braminical
learning. Several Hindoo temples embellish the banks
of the river; and many other of the public and private
buildings are extremely magnificent. The streets, how¬
ever, are narrow, and the houses high, some of them even
five stories, which are inhabited by different families.
The more opulent inhabitants live in detached houses,
which have an open court, and are surrounded by a
wall. In the centre of the city there is a large Maho¬
metan mosque, which was built by the emperor Au-
rengzebe, who destroyed a magnificent Hindoo temple
which had been erected on the same spot. Many of
the Hindoo temples were demolished by the Mahome¬
tans, the ruins of which are still visible in different places
round the city. The same manners and customs still
prevail among these people, as at the remotest period
which history has traced. No innovations either in
civil or religious matters have been admitted. An in¬
surrection was excited here in 1781, and by the formi¬
dable appearance which it assumed, threatened to prove
fatal to the English interest in Hindostan. It was at
length suppressed, and the rajah Cheyt Sing was depo¬
sed in 1783. Benares has been also long celebrated
for its observatory. See Observatory. It is esti¬
mated to contain 600,000 souls, and is 425 miles south¬
east of Delhi, and 400 miles north-west of Calcutta.
E. Long. 83. 10. N. Lat. 25. 20.
BENAVARRI, a town of the kingdom of Arragon
in Spain, seated on the frontiers of Catalonia. E. Long,
o. 40. N. Lat. 41. 53.
BENAVENTO, a town of Spain, in the kingdom
of Leon, and Terra di Campos, with the title of a duchy.
It is seated on the river Ela, in W. Long. 5. o. N.
Lat. 42. 4.
BENAVIDUS, or Bonavitus (Marcus Mantua),
a celebrated civilian, taught civil law with reputation,
during 60 years, at Padua the place of his birth ; and
died in 1582, aged 93. His principal works are,
1. Collectanea super Jus Cccsareum. 2. Consiliorvm,
tom. ii. 3. Vrob!ematurn legalium. 4. T)e illustribus
Jin isconstrHis, &c.
BENCH, or Banc, in Law. See Banc.
Free*
BEN
Free-Bench signifies that estate in copyhold-lands
which the wife being espoused a virgin, has, after the
decease of her husband, for her dow’er, according to the
custom of the manor. As to this free-bendi, several
manors have several customs ; as in the manors ofEast
and West Enbourne, in the county of Berks, and other
parts of England, there is a custom, that when a copy-
hold tenant dies, the widow shall have her free-bench
in all the deceased husband’s lands, whilst she lives single
and chaste } but if she commits incontinency, she shall
forfeit her estate : nevertheless, upon her coming into
the court of the manor, riding on a black ram, and
having his tail in her hand, and at the same time re¬
peating a form of words prescribed, the steward is ob-
hged, by the custom of the manor, to re-admit her
to her free-benchi
King’s Bench, a court in which the king was for¬
merly accustomed to sit in person, and on that account
was moved with the king’s household. This was ori¬
ginally the only court 'in Westminster-hall, and from
this it is thought that the courts of common pleas and
exchequer were derived. As the king in person is still
presumed in law to sit in this court, though only repre¬
sented by his judges, it is said to have supreme autho¬
rity: and the proceedings in it are supposed to be co¬
rum nobis, that is, before the king. This court con¬
sists of a lord chief justice and three other justices of
judges, who are invested with a sovereign jurisdiction
over all matters whether of a criminal or public nature;
The chief justice has a salary of 5500I. and the other
judges 240ol.each.
All crimes against the public good, though they do
not injure any particular person, are under the cogni¬
zance of this court j and no private subject can suf¬
fer any unlawful violence or injury against his person,
liberty, or possessions, but a proper remedy is afforded
him here 5 not only for satisfaction of damages sustain¬
ed, but for the punishment of the offender 5 and where-
ever this court meets with an offence contrary to the first
principles of justice, it may punish it. It frequently
proceeds on indictments found before other courts, and
removed by certiorari into this. Persons illegally com¬
mitted to prison, though by the king and council, or
either of the houses of parliament, may be bailed in it;
and in some cases even upon legal commitments.—
Writs of mandamus are issued by this court, for the
restoring of officers in corporations, &e. unjustly turn¬
ed out, and freemen wrongfully disfranchised.
fihe court of King’s Bench is now divided into a
crown side and plea side j the one determining crimi¬
nal, and the other, civil causes.
On the crown side, or crown office, it takes cogni¬
zance of all criminal causes, from high treason down
to the most trivial misdemeanour or breach of the peace.
Into this court also indictments from all inferior courts
may be removed by writ of certiorari; and tried either
at bar, or at nisiprius, by a jury of the county out of
which the indictment is brought. The judges of this
court are the supreme coroners of the kingdom. And
the court itself is the principal court of criminal juris¬
diction known to the laws of England. For which
reason, by the coming of the court of King’s Bench
into any county (as it was removed to Oxford on ac¬
count of the sickness in 1665,) former commissions
of oyer and terminer, and general gaol-delivery, are at
t 552 ]
BEN
once absorbed and determined ipso facto: in the same :
manner as, by the old Gothic and Saxon constitutions, Bend
Jure vctusio obtmuit, quievisse omnia inferiora judicia H
dicentejus rege. Into this court of King’s Bench hath Bendl’ib.
reverted all that was good and salutary of the star-'m"~r^J
chamber.
On the plea side, this court determines all personal
actions commenced by bill or writ $ as actions of debt,
upon the case, detinue, trover, ejectment, trespass,
waste, &c. against any person in the custody of the
marshal of the court, as every person sued here is sup-
posed to be by law.
The officers on the crown side are the clerk and se¬
condary of the crown ; and on the side of the pleas
there are two chief clerks or prothonotaries, and their
secondary and deputy, the custos brevium, two clerks
of the papers, the clerk of the declarations, the signer
and sealer of bills, the clerk of the rules, clerk of the
errors, and clerk of the bails $ to which may be added
the filazers, the marshal of the court, and the crier.
Amicable Bench. See Amicable.
BENCHERS, in the inns of court, the senior mem¬
bers of thfc society, who are invested with the govern¬
ment thereof.
BENCOOLEN, a fort and town of Asia, on the
south-west coast of the island of Sumatra, belonging to
the British. The place is known at sea by a slender
mountain called the Sugar Loaf, which rises about 20
miles inland. About a quarter of a mile from the sea
stands an Indian village, whose houses are small and
low, and built on posts. The country about Ben-
coolen is mountainous and woody, and the air unwhole¬
some, the mountains being continually covered with
thick heavy clouds that produce lightning, thunder,
and rain. There is no beef to be had, except that of
buffaloes, which is not very palatable ; and indeed pro¬
visions of all kinds, except fruit, are pretty scarce.
The chief trade is in pepper, of which great quantities
grow on the island. There are frequent bickerings be¬
twixt the natives and the factory, to the no small in¬
jury of the East India Company. The factory was once
entirely deserted j and had not the natives found that
trade decreased by reason of their absence, it is scarce¬
ly probable that ever the English w-ould have been in¬
vited there again. E. Long. 101. 5. S. Lat. 4. 5.
BEND, in Heraldry, one of the nine honourable or¬
dinaries, containing a third part of the field when
charged, and a fifth when plain. It is sometimes, like
other ordinaries, indented, ingrailed, &c. and is either
dexter or sinister. See Heraldry.
In Bend, is when any things, borne in arms, arc
placed obliquely from the upper corner to the opposite
lower, as the bend lies.
BENDER, a town of Bessarabia in European Rus¬
sia, seated on the river Niester, in E. Long. 29. 5. N.
Lat. 46. 40. It is remarkable for being the place of
retreat of Charles XII. after he was defeated by the
Russians at the battle of Pultowa in 17C9.
BENDERMASSEN, a town of the island of Bor¬
neo in Asia, and capital of a kingdom of the same
name. It has a good harbour; and stands in E. Long.
113. 50. S. Lat. 2. 40.
BENDTDA, in antiquity, a festival, not unlike the
Bacchanalia, celebrated by the xithenians in honour of
Diana.
BENDING,
BEN [
BENDING, in a general sense, the reducing a
giving
straight body into a curve, or
form.
it a crooked
The bending of timber-boards, &c. is effected by
means of heat, whereby their fibres are so relaxed that
you may bend them into any figure.
Bending, in the sea language, the tying two ropes
or cables together : thus they say, bend the cable, that
is, make it fast to the ring of the anchor; bend the sail,
make it fast to the yard.
BENDS, in a ship, the same with what are called
wails, or wales; the outmost timbers of a ship’s side,
on which men set their feet in climbing up. They are
reckoned from the water, and are called t\\e first, se¬
cond, or third bend. They are the chief strength of a
ship’s sides 5 and have the beams, knees, and foot-hooks,
bolted to them.
BENDY, in Heraldry, is the field divided into four,
six, or more parts, diagonally, and varying in metal
and colour.—The general custom of England is to make
an even number; but in other countries they regard it
not, whether even or odd.
BENCAPED, among sailors. A ship is said to be
bcneaped when the water does not flow high enough to
bring her off the ground, out of the dock or over the
bar.
BENEDETTO, St, a Considerable town of the
Mantuan, in Italy, in E. Long. 11. 25. N. Lat 45. o.
BENEDICITE, among ecclesiastical writers, an
appellation given to the song of the three children in
the fiery furnace, on account of its beginning with the
word benedicite. 1 he use of this song in Christian wor¬
ship is very ancient, it appearing to have been sung in
all the churches as early as St Chrysostom’s time.
BENEDICT XfV. Pope, (Prosper Lambertini of
Bologna), celebrated for his learning and moderation,
which gained him the esteem of all sensible Protestants.
He was the patron of learned men and celebrated ar¬
tists ; and an elaborate writer on theological subjects.
His works made 12 vols. in folio. He died in 1758.
Benedict, St, the founder of the order of the Be*-
nedictine monks, was born in Italy about the year 480.
He was sent to Rome when he was very young, and
there received the first part of his education. At 14
years of age he was removed from thence to Sublaco,
about 40 miles distant. Here he lived a most ascetic
life, and shut himself up in a cavern, where nobody
knew any.thing of him except St Romanus, who, we
are told, used to descend to him by a rope, and to
supply him with provisions. • But being afterwards dis¬
covered by the monks of a neighbouring monastery,
they chose him for their abbot. Their manners, how¬
ever, not agreeing with those of Benedict, he returned
to his solitude , whither many persons followed him,
and put themselves under his direction, so that in a short
time he built 12 monasteries. In the year 528, or the
following, he retired to Mount Cassino, where idolatry
was still prevalent, there being a temple of Apollo
erected here. He instructed the people in the adjacent
country, and having converted them, he broke the
image of Apollo, and built two chapels on the moun¬
tain. Here he founded also a monastery, and instituted
the order of his name which in time became so fa¬
mous and extended all over Europe. It was here too
Voe. III. Part II. f
553 ] BEN
that he composed his Regula Monachonlm, which Gre¬
gory the Great speaks of as the most sensible and best
written piece of that kind ever published. The time
of his death is uncertain, but is placed between 540
an(l 55°- He was looked upon as the Elisha of his
time ; and is reported to have wrought a great number
of miracles, which are recorded in the second book of
the Dialogues of St Gregory the Great.
Benedict, abbot of Peterborough, was educated
at Oxford, became a monk in the monastery of Christ’s
church in Canterbury, and some time after was chosen
prior by the members of that society. Though he had
been a great admirer of Archbishop Becket, and wrote
a life of that prelate, he was so much esteemed by
Henry II. that by the influence of that prince he was
elected abbot of Peterborough, A. D. 1177. He as¬
sisted at the coronation of Richard I. A. D. 1189 ; and
was advanced to be keeper of the great seal, A.D. 1191.
But he did not long enjoy this high dignity, as he died
on Michaelmas day, A. D. 1193. Besides his life of
Archbishop Becket, he composed a History of Henry II.
and Richard I. from A. D. 1170 to A. D. 1192; which
hath been much and justly esteemed by many of our
greatest antiquaries, as containing one of the best ac¬
counts of the transactions of those times. A beautiful
edition of this work was published at Oxford, in two
volumes, by Mr Hearne, A. D. 1735.
BENEDICTINES, in church history, an order of
monks, who profess to follow the rules of St Benedict.
The Benedictines, being those only that are properly
called monks, wear a loose black gown, with large wide
sleeves, and a capuche, or cowl, on their heads, ending
in a point behind. In the canon law, they are styled
black friars, from the colour of their habit.
The rules of St Benedict, as observed by the English
monks before the dissolution of the monasteries, were
as follows: They were obliged to perform their devo¬
tions seven times in 24 hours, the whole circle of which
devotions had a respect to the passion and death of
Christ : they wrere obliged always to go two and two
together: every day in lent they were obliged to fast
till six in the evening, and abated of their usual time
ol sleeping and eating; but they were not allowed to
practise any voluntary austerity without leave of their
superior : they never conversed in their refectory at
meals, but were obliged to attend to the reading of the
Scriptures : they all slept in the same dormitory, but
not two in a bed ; they lay in their clothes : for small
faults they were shut out from meals ; for greater they
were debarred religious commerce, and excluded from
the chapel ; and as to incorrigible offenders, they w'ere
excluded from the monasteries. Every monk had tw7o
coats, two cowls, a table-book, a knife, a needle, and a
handkerchief; and the furniture of their bed was a mat,
a blanket, a rug, and a pillow.
The time when this order came into England is well
known ; for to it the English owe their conversion from
idolatry. In the year 596, Pope Gregory sent hither
Augustine, prior of tire-monastery of St Andrew atRome,
with several other Benedictine monks. St Augustine
became archbishop of Canterbury, and the Benedictines
founded several monasteries in England, as also the me¬
tropolitan church of Canterbury, and all the cathedrals
that were afterwards erected.
4 A Pope
BEN [ 554 ] BEN
Epnedic- Pope John XXII. who died in 1334, after an exact
tines, inquiry, found, that, since the first rise of the order,
Benedic- there had been of it 24 popes, near 200 cardinals, 7000
. archbishops, 15,000 bishops, 15,000 abbots of renown,
above 4000 saints, and upwards 0137,000 monasteries.
There have been likewise of this order 20 emperors and
10 empresses, 47 kings and above 50 queens, 20 sons of
emperors, and 48 sons of kings: about 100 princesses,
daughters of kings and emperors ; besides dukes, mar¬
quises, earls, countesses, &c. innumerable. The order
has produced a vast number of eminent writers and
other learned men. Their Rabanus set up the school
of Germany. Their Alcuinus founded the university of
Paris. Their Dionysius Exiguus perfected the ecclesi¬
astical computation. Their Guido invented the scale
of music 5 and their Sylvester, the organ. They boast
to have produced Anselmus, Ildephonsus, Venerable
Rede, &c.
There are nuns likeVidse who follow the rule of St
Benedict ; among whom those who call themselves mi¬
tigated, eat flesh three times a week, on Sundays, Tues¬
days, and Thursdays ; the others observe the rule of St
Benedict in its rigour, and eat no flesh, unless they are
sick.
BENEDICTION, in a general sense, the act of
blessing, or giving praise to God, or returning thanks
for his favours. Hence also benediction is still applied
to the act of saying grace before or after meals. Nei¬
ther the ancient Jews nor Christians ever ate without
a short prayer. The Jews are obliged to rehearse 100
benedictions per day ; of which 80 are to be spoken in
the morning. The first treatise of tiie first order in
the Talmud, entitled Seraim, contains the form and
order of the daily benedictions. It was usual to give
benediction to travellers on their taking leave *, a prac¬
tice which is still preserved among the monks. Bene¬
dictions were likewise given among the ancient Jews, as
well as Christians, by imposition of hands. And when
at length the primitive simplicity of the Christian wor¬
ship began to give way to ceremony, they added the
sign of the cross, which was made with the same hand,
as before, only elevated, or extended. Hence benedic¬
tion, in the modern Romish church, is used, in a more
particular manner, to denote the sign of the cross made
by a bishop, or prelate, as conferring some grace on the
people. The custom of receiving benediction, by bow¬
ing the head before the bishops, is very ancient } and
was so universal, that emperors themselves did not de¬
cline this mark of submission. Under the name benedic¬
tion, the Hebrews also frequently understand the pre¬
sents which friends make to one another, in all probabi¬
lity because they are generally attended with blessings
and compliments, both from those who give and those
who receive them.
Nuptial Benediction, the external ceremony per¬
formed by the priest in the office of matrimony. This
is also called sacerdotal and matrimonial benediction, by
the Greeks U^oXoytcc and tego]eM<ri&. The nuptial bene¬
diction is not essential to, but the confirmation of, a
marriage in the civil law.
Beatic Benediction, {benedictio heaticci), is the
viaticum given to dying persons. T he pope begins all
his bulls with this form : Sulutem et apostohcam bene-
dictionem.
Benediction is also used for an ecclesiastical cere-
2
mony, whereby a thing is rendered sacred or venerable. Bendic
In this sense benediction differs from consecration, as in tion,
the latter unction is applied, which is not in the former r
Thus the chalice is consecrated, and the pix blessed •, as 'r""J
the former, not the latter, is anointed : though, in the
common usage, these two words are applied promiscu¬
ously.—The spirit of piety, or rather of superstition,
has introduced into the Romish church benedictions for
almost every thing. We read of forms of benedictions
for wax candles, for boughs, for ashes, for church-ves¬
sels, and ornaments j for flags or ensigns, arms, first-
fruits, houses, ships, pascal eggs, cilicium or the hair¬
cloth of penitents, churchyards, &c. In general, these
benedictions are performed by aspersions of holy water,
signs of the cross, and prayers suitable to the nature of
the ceremony. The forms of these benedictions are
found in the Roman pontifical, in the Roman missal, in
the book of ecclesiastical ceremonies printed in Pope
Leo X.’s time, and in the rituals and ceremonies of the
different churches, which are found collected in Fa¬
ther Martene’s work on the rites and discipline of the
church.
BENEFICE {benejicium), in middle-age writers, is
used for a fee, sometimes denominated more peculiarly
benejicium militare. In this sense, benefice was an estate
in land, at first granted for life only 5 so called, because
it was held ex mero beneficio of the donor : and the te¬
nants were bound to swear fealty to the lord, and to
serve him in the wars. In after-times, as these tenures
became perpetual and hereditary, they left their name
of beneficia to the livings of the clergy j and retained to
themselves the name of feuds.
Benefice, in an ecclesiastical sense, a church en¬
dowed with a revenue for the performance of divine
service 5 or the revenue itself assigned to an ecclesiasti¬
cal person, by way of stipend, for the service he is to
do that church.
All church-preferments, except bishoprics, are called
benefices ; and all benefices are, by the canonists, some¬
times styled dignities: but we now ordinarily distinguish
between benefice and dignity ; applying dignity to bi¬
shoprics, deaneries, archdeaconries, and prebendaries $
and benefice to parsonages, vicarages, and donatives.
Benefices are divided by the canonists into simple and
sacerdotal. In the first there is no obligation but to
read prayers, sing, &c. such as canonries, chaplainships,
chantries, &c.: the second are charged with the cure of
souls, or the direction and guidance of consciences j such
as vicarages, rectories, &c.
The Romanists again distinguish benefices into regular
and secular. Begular or titular benefices are those held
by a religious, or a regular who has made profession of
some religious order ; such are abbeys, priories, conven¬
tuals, &c. ; or rather, a regular benefice is that which
cannot be conferred on any but a religious, either by its
foundation, by the institution of some superior, or by pre¬
scription: for prescription, forty years possession by a re¬
ligious makes the benefice regular. Secular benefices
are only such as are to be given to secular priests, i. e.
to such as live in the world and are not engaged in any
monastic order. All benefices are reputed secular, till
the contrary is made to appear. They are called secu-
lar,benefiices, because held by seculars; of which kind
are almost all cures.
The canonists distinguish three manners of vacating
a
BEN
Ha fice a Hent ficc, viz. I. Dc jure, when the person enjoying it
jjj is guilty of certain crimes expressed in those laws, as he-
j)eBfciuii.resy, simony, &c. 2. Defacto, as well as dcjure, by
1 the natural death or the resignation of the incumbent j
which resignation may be either express or tacit, as
when he engages in a state, &c. inconsistent with it, as,
among the Romanists, by marrying, entering into a re¬
ligious order, or the like. 3. By the sentence of a judge,
by way of punishment for certain crimes, as concubi¬
nage, perjury, &c.
Benefices began about 500. The following account
of those in England is given as the fact by Dr Burn,
viz. that there are 1071 livings not exceeding 10I. per
• annum : 1467 livings above 10I. and not exceeding
20I. per annum; 1126 livings above 20I. and not ex¬
ceeding 30I. per annum ; 1049 livings above 30I. and
not exceeding 40I. per annum ; 884 livings above 40I.
and not exceeding 50I. per annum ; 5597 livings un¬
der 50!. per annum. ]t must be 500 years before
every living can be raised to 60I. a-year by Queen
Anne’s bounty, and 339 years before any of them can
exceed 50I. a-year. On the whole, there are above
11,000 church preferments in England, exclusive of
bishoprics, deaneries, canonries, prebendaries, priest-
vicars, lay-vicars, secondaries, &e. belonging to cathe¬
drals, or choristers, or even curates, to well-beneficed
clergymen.
Benefice in commendam is that, the direction and
management of which, upon a vacancy, is given or re¬
commended to an ecclesiastic, for a certain time, till he
may be conveniently provided for.
BENEFICIARII, in Roman antiquity, denote sol¬
diers who attended the chief officers of the army, be¬
ing exempted from other duty. Beneficiarii were also
soldiers discharged from the military service or duty,
and provided with benefcia to subsist on. These were
probably the same with the former, and both might be
comprised in the same definition. They were old expe¬
rienced soldiers, who, having served out their legal time,
or received a discharge as a particular mark of honour,
tvere invited again to the service, where they were held
in great esteem, exempted from all military drudgery,
and appointed to guard the standard, &c. These, when
thus recalled to service, were also denominated cvocati;
before their recal, emeriti.
Beneficiarii was also used for those raised to a high¬
er rank by the favour of the tribunes or other magi¬
strates. The word frequently occurs in the
Roman inscriptions found in Britain, where consulis is
always joined with it ; but besides beneficiarius consulis,
we find in Grutar bencficiarius tribuni, prcetorii, legati,
prcefecti, proconsulis, &c.
BENEFICIARY, in general, something that re¬
lates to benefices.
Beneficiary, Beneficiarius, is more particularly
used fora beneficed person, or him who receives and en¬
joys one or more benefices. A beneficiary is not the
proprietor of the revenues of his church ; he has only
the administration of them, though unaccountable for
the same to anv but God.
Beneficiary is also used, in middle-age writers, for
a feudatory or vassal. The denomination was also given
to the clerks or officers who kept the accounts of the
benef cia, and made the writings necessary thereto.
BENEFICIUM, in military matters among the
[ 555 ]
BEN
Romans, denoted a promotion to a higher rank by the Beneficium
favour of some person in authority. (j
BENEFIELD, Sebastian, an eminent divine ofBenevento.
the 17th century, was born in 1599, at Prestonbury in ' ' v
Gloucestershire, and educated at Corpus Christi college
in Oxford. In 1608 he took the degree of doctor in
divinity, and five years after was chosen Margaret pro¬
fessor in that university. He had been presented several
years before to the rectory of M'.ysey-Hampton, in
Gloucestershire. He published Commentaries upon the
first, second, and third chapters of Amos ; a consider¬
able number of sermons ; and some Latin treatises. He
died in 1630.
BENEFIT of clergy. See Clergy.
Benefit Societies, institutions common among the
labouring classes in Great Britain, and calculated for
the relief of the sick, or the support of the aged. See
Supplement.
BENESOEUF, a town of Egypt, seated on the
western shore of the Nile, and remarkable for its hemp
and flax. E. Long. 31. o. N. Lat. 29. 10.
BENEVENTE, a town of the province of Leon,
in Spain, seated on the river Esla, in W. Long. 5. 5.
N. Lat. 42. 4.
BENE VENTO, a city of Italy, in the kingdom of
Naples, with an archbishop’s see. It is situated near
the confluence of the rivers Sabato and Galore, in a
fertile valley called the Strait of Benevento. It has fre¬
quently suffered by earthquakes, particularly in 1703.
E. Long. 14. 57. N. Lat. 41. 6.
The arch of Trajan, now called the Porta Aurea,
forms one of the entrances to the city. This arch,
though it appears to great disadvantage from the walls
and houses that hem it in on both sides, is in tolerable
preservation, and one of the most magnificent remains
of Roman grandeur to be met with out of Rome.
The architecture and sculpture are both singularly beau¬
tiful. This elegant monument was erected in the year
of Christ 114, about the commencement of the Parthian
war, and after the submission of Decebalus had entitled
Trajan to the surname of Dacicus. The order is Com¬
posite ; the materials white marble ; the height 60
palms ; length, 37 and a half; and depth 24. It con¬
sists of a single arch, the span of which is 20 palms,
the height 35. On each side of it, two fluted columns,
upon a joint pedestal, support an entablement and an
attic. The intercolumniations and frize are covered
with basso-relievos, representing the battles and tri¬
umphs of the Dacian war. In the attic is the inscrip¬
tion. As the sixth year of Trajan’s consulate, marked
on this arch, is also to be seen on all the milliary co¬
lumns he erected along his new road to Brundusium, it
is probable that the arch was built to commemorate so
beneficial an undertaking. Except the old metropolis
of the world, no city in Italy can boast of so many re¬
mains of ancient sculpture as are to be found in Bene¬
vento. Scarce a wall is built of any thing but altars,
tombs, columns, and remains of entablatures.
The cathedral is a clumsy edifice, in a style of Go¬
thic, or rather Lombard, architecture. This church,
dedicated to the Virgin Mary, was built in the sixth
century, enlarged in the nth, and altered considerably
in the 13th, when Archbishop Roger adorned it with
a new front. To obtain a sufficient quantity of mar¬
ble for this purpose, he spared neither sarcophagus,
4 A 2 altar,
BEN [ 556 ] BEN
. altar, nor inscription ; but fixed them promiscuously and
irregularly in the walls of his barbarous structure.
Three doors (a type of the Trinity, according to the
rules established by the mystical Vitruvii of those a<ies)
opened into this facade. That in the centre is of bronze,
embossed with the life of Christ, and the effigies of the
Beneventine metropolitan, with all his suffragan bi¬
shops. The inside offers nothing to the curious obser¬
ver but columns, :»1tars, and other decorations, execu¬
ted in the most inelegant style that any of the church¬
building barbarians ever adopted. In the court stands
a small Egyptian obelisk, of red granite, crowded with
hieroglyphics. In the adjoining square are a fountain
and a very indifferent statue of Benedict XIII. long
archbishop of Benevento.
Of the Beneventine history the following abstract is
given by Mr Swinburne, in his Travels in Sicih/. Ac¬
cording to some authors (he informs us), Diomed was
the founder of Beneventum 5 whence its origin must
be referred to the “ years that immediately succeeded
the Trojan war. Other writers assign it to the Sam¬
mies, who made it one of their principal towns, where
they frequently took refuge when worsted by the Ro¬
mans, In their time its name was Maleventvm, a word
of uncertain etymology: however, it sounded so ill in
the Latin tongue, that the superstitious Romans, after
achieving the conquest of Samnium, changed it into
Beneventum, in order to introduce their colony under
fortunate auspices. Near this place, in the 479th year
of Rome, Pyrrhus was defeated by Curius Dentatus.
In the war against Hannibal, Beneventum signalized
its attachment to Rome, by liberal tenders of succour
and real services. Its reception of Gracchus, after his
defeat of Hanno, is extolled by Livy; and, from the
gratitude of the senate, many solid advantages accrued
to. the Beneventines. As they long partook, in a di¬
stinguished manner, of the glories and prosperity of the
Roman empire, they also severely felt the effects of its
decline, and shared in a large proportion the horrors
of devastation that attended the irruption of the nor¬
thern nations.
“ I he modern history of this city will appear inte¬
resting to those readers who do not despise the events
of ages which we usually and justly call dark and bar¬
barous. Ihey certainly are of importance to all the
present states of Europe j for at that period origi¬
nated the original existence of most of them. Had
no northern savages descended from their snowy
mountains, to overturn the Roman colossus, and break
asunder the fetters of mankind, few of those powers,
which now make so formidable a figure, would ever
have been so much as heard of. The avengers of the
general wrongs were, no doubt, the destroyers of arts
and literature, and brought on the thick clouds of ig¬
norance, which for many centuries no gleam of light
could penetrate j but it is to be remembered, also,
that the Romans themselves had already made great
progress in banishing true taste and knowledge, and
would very soon have been a barbarous nation, though
neither Goths nor Vandals had ever approached the
frontier.
“ The Lombards came the last of the Scythian
or Scandinavian hordes to invade Italy. After fixing
the seat of their empire at Pavia, they sent a detach¬
ment to possess the southern provinces. In 571, Zotto
3
was appointed duke of Benevento, as a feudatory of Benevento
the king of Lombardy j and seems to have confined his H
rule to the city alone, from which he sallied forth to BenM<i.
seek for booty. The second duke, whose name was V~“"J
Arechis, conquered almost the whole country that now
constitutes the kingdom of Naples. His successors ap¬
pear long to have remained satisfied with the extent of
dominion he had transmitted to them. Grimwald, one
of them, ususped the crown of Lombardy ; but his son
Romwald, though a very successful warrior, contented
himself with the ducal title. I'lie fall of Desiderius,
last king of the Lombards, did not affect the state of
Benevento. By an effort of policy or resolution, Are¬
chis the vsecond kept possession ; and availing himself of
the favourable conjuncture, asserted his independence,—
threw off all feudal submission,—assumed the style of
prince,—and coined money with his own image upon
it j a prerogative exercised by none of his predecessors
as dukes of Benevento. During four reigns, this state
maintained itself on a respectable footing ; and might
long have continued so, had not civil war, added to ve¬
ry powerful assaults from abroad, hastened its ruin.
Radelchis and Siconulph aspired to the principality ;
and each of them invited the Saracens to his aid. The
desolation caused by this conflict is scarcely to be de¬
scribed. No better method for terminating these fatal
dissensions could be devised than dividing the dominions
into two distinct sovereignties. In 851, Radelchis reign¬
ed as prince at Benevento; and his adversary fixed his
court with the same title at Salerno. From this treaty
of partition, the ruin of the Lombards became inevita¬
ble : a want of union undermined their strength,—fo¬
reigners gained an ascendant over them, irresolution and
weakness pervaded their whole system of government.
The erection of Capua into a third principality was an¬
other destructive operation : and now the inroads of the
Saracens, the attacks of the eastern and western emper¬
ors, anarchy and animosity at home, reduced the Lom¬
bard states to such wretchedness, that they were able to
make a very feeble resistance to the Norman arms. The
city of Benevento alone escaped their sway, by a grant
which the emperor Henry II. had made of it to the
bishop of Rome, in exchange for the territory of Bam¬
berg in Germany, where the popes enjoyed a kind of
sovereignty. From the year 1054 to this day, the Ro¬
man see, with some short interruptions of possession, has
exercised temporal dominion over this city. Benevento
has given three popes to the chair of St Peter; viz. Fe¬
lix III. \ ictor III. and Gregory VIII. and, what it is
much prouder of, reckons St Januarius in the list of its
bishops.”
BENEVENTUM, in Ancient Geography, a town
of the Samnites, formerly called Maleventum from the
unwholesomeness of the wind, and under that appella¬
tion it is mentioned by Livy; but after a Roman colony
was led thither in the 485th year of the city, it came to
have the name of Beneventum, as a more auspicious
title. It is mentioned by Horace as an ancient city,
said to have been built by Diomedes before the Trojan
war. Now Benevento.
BENEVOLENCE, in morals, signifies the love of
mankind in general, accompanied with a desire to pro¬
mote their happiness. See Morals.
BENFIELD, a town of France, in the department
of the Lower Rhine, whose fortifications were demo¬
lished
f;nfield,
Ingal.
E.
Cl ate ex-
feo:
BEN [
lislied in consequence of the treaty of Westphalia.
Lomr. 7. 45. N. Lat. 48. 14.
BENGAL, a country of Hindostan in Asia, and one
of the most valuable provinces held by the British in
India, is bounded on the east by the kingdoms of Assam,
lipra, and Arracan 5 on the west by Malva and Berar;
on the north by Nepal and Bootan ; and on the south
by Orixa and the bay of Bengal. Its greatest length
is about 400 miles, and its breadth, where greatest, is
not less than 300; extending from 21 to 27 degrees of
noith latitude, and from 86 to 92 of east longitude.
As this country lies almost entirely within the torrid
un- zone, and in the middle of a very extensive continent,
e| ^ it is sometimes subject to such extremes of heat as ren¬
der it very fatal to European constitutions. Dr Lind
is of opinion, that the climate of Bengal is the most
dangerous in this respect of any of the English territo-
2 ries, excepting Bencoolen on the coast of Sumatra.
Ejosjbc Part of this unhealthiness arises from the mere circum-
towild! Sta"Ce of heat’ for in a11 t,ie southern parts of India,
an«ts sur-w,len t!ie blows over land, it is so extremely hot
priiiig ef- and suffocating as scarcely to be borne. The reason
of this is evident Irom the mere inspection of a map of
Asia, where it is evident, that whatever wind blows over
land, especially in the southern parts, must pass over an
immense tract of country strongly heated by the sun ;
and as in every part of this extensive continent there
are sandy deserts of very considerable magnitude, the
heat is thus prodigiously increased. T his becomes very
evident on the falling of a shower of rain at the time
the land-wind prevails j for if the wind in its way
passes through the shower, the air is agreeably cooled
though the sky should be ever so clear; while those
who reside only at a few miles distance, but out of the
direct line of the shower, will be fainting under the
excessive heat. Here, indeed, when the air is clear,
the sunbeams are much more powerful than in our cli¬
mate, insomuch that the light at noon-day is too power¬
ful for the eyes to bear ; and the large stars, as Venus
and Jupiter, shine with a surprising lustre. Thus the
reflection of the sunbeams from the earth must neces¬
sarily occasion an extraordinary degree of heat in the
atmosphere ; so that from the winds above mentioned
very great inconveniences sometimes arise, similar to
those which are occasioned by the Harmattan in
Africa. Mr Ives tells us, that it is affirmed they will
snap glass if it be too much exposed to them ; he has
• seen the veneering stripped off from a chest of drawers
by their means ; and they will certainly crack and
chap almost every piece of wood that is not well sea¬
soned. In certain places they are so loaded with sand,
that the horizon appears quite hazy where they blow,
and it is almost impossible to prevent the eyes from be¬
ing thus greatly injured. They have likewise a very
pernicious effect on such people as are exposed to them
while sleeping. This seldom fails to bring on a fit of
the bar biers, a kind of paralytic distemper attended
with a total deprivation of the use of the limbs, and
which the patient never gets the better of but by re¬
moving to some other climate. These hot winds are
made use of with great success for cooling liquors, by
wrapping a wet cloth round the bottles and exposing
it to the air. The reason of this is explained under
the article Evaporation. Mr Ives remarks, that it
557 ]
BEN
will thus cool much sooner than by being exposed to Bengal,
the cool sea-breeze. <■. ■— v~— /
The great cause of the unhealthiness of Bengal, how- 3
ever, is owing to the inundations of the Ganges an<l of\jle
Burrampooter, by which such quantities of pntrescible Ganges,&c.
matters are brought down as infect the air with the most described,
malignant vapours when the waters retire. Though the
rainy season begins in Bengal only in the month of June,
the river begins to swell in the mountains of Thibet early
in April, and by the latter end of that month in Bengal
also. I he reason of this is partly the melting of the
snow on the mountains of Thibet, and partly the vast
collection of vapours brought by the southerly or south¬
west monsoon, which are suddenly stopped by the high
mountains of Thibet. Hence it is obvious, that the
accumulation and condensation of these vapours must
first take place in the neighbourhood of the mountains
which oppose them ; and thus the rainy season com¬
mences soonest in those places which lie nearest the
mountains.
I he rivers in Bengal begin to rise at first very slowly,
the increase being only at the rate of one inch per day
for the first fortnight. It then gradually augments to
two and three inches before any quantity of rain falls in
the low countries ; and when the rain becomes general,
the increase at a medium is five inches per day. By the
latter end of July, all the lower parts of Bengal, con¬
tiguous to the Ganges and Burrampooter, are overflowed,
and present a surface of water more than 100 miles
wide. This vast collection of fluid, however, is owing
in a great measure to the rains which fall on the low
country itself; for the lands in the neighbourhood are
overflowed some time before the bed of the river is filled.
It must be observed, that the ground on the bank of the
river, and even to some miles distance, is higher than
that which is more remote ; and thus a separation is
made for a considerable time betwixt the waters of the
land-flood and those of the river.
As some of the lands in Bengal would receive da-s&meSands
mage from such a copious inundation, they must for guarded
this reason be guarded by strong dykes to resist the i*’0'” 100
waters, and admit only a certain quantity. These,
collectively taken, are said to be more than 100c miles
in length, and are kept up at an enormous ex pence ;
yet they do not always answer the purpose, on account
of the looseness of the earth of which they are com¬
posed, even though some are of the thickness of an or¬
dinary rampart at the base. One particular branch of
the Ganges (navigable only in the rainy season, and
then equal in size to the Thames at Chelsea) is con¬
ducted for 70 miles between dykes: and when full, the
passengers look dow-n upon the adjacent country as from
an eminence.
As the tide loses its power of counteracting such an
impetuous torrent of fresh water, the height of the in¬
undation gradually diminishes as it approaches the sea,
and totally vanishes at the point of confluence; which
is owing to the facility with which the waters of the
inundation spi'ead over the level of the ocean. But
when the force of winds conspires with that of the
tide, the waters are retarded in such a manner as some- Disasters
times to raise the inundation two feet above the ordi-occaEioned
nary level ; which has been known to occasion the loss by too
of whole crops of rice. In the year 1763, a meIan-Sreat an
choly.
inundation.
#
Dangerous
effects of
the north
tvest winds,
BEN [55
"Bengal, clioly accident happened at Luckipour, when a strong
—v—gale of wind, conspiring with a high spring-tide, at a
season when the periodical flood was within a foot and
a half of its highest pitch, the waters are said to have
risen six feet above their ordinary level. Thus the in¬
habitants of a particular district were swept away with
their houses and cattle ; and to aggravate the distress,
it happened in a part of the country where it was
scarce possible to find a tree for a drowning man to
escape to.
For some days before the middle of August the in¬
undation is at a stand, and then begins to abate by a
cessation of rains in the mountains, though great quan¬
tities still continue to fall on the low country. The
inundation does not, however, in its decrease, always
keep pace with that of the river, by reason of the
height of the banks j but after the beginning of Octo¬
ber, when the rain has nearly ceased, the remainder
goes oil’ quickly by evaporation, leaving the ground
exceedingly fertilized.
From the time that the monsoon changes in Octo¬
ber to the middle of March, the rivers are in a state
of tranquillity } when the north-west winds begin, and
may be expected once in three or four days till the
commencement of the rainy season. These are the
most formidable enemies of the inland navigation car¬
ried on by the large rivers. They are sudden and vio¬
lent squalls, attended with rain 5 and though their
duration is commonly but short, sometimes produce
fatal effects, whole fleets of trading boats having been
sunk by them almost instantaneously. They are more
frequent in the eastern than in the western part of Ben¬
gal, and happen oftener towards the close of the day
than at any other time j but as they are indicated some
time before they approach by the rising and singular
appearance of the clouds, the traveller has commonly
time enough to seek for a place of shelter. It is in
the great rivers alone that they are so formidable, and
that about the end of May or beginning of June,
when the rivers are much increased in width. After
the commencement of the rainy season, which varies
in different parts from the middle to the end of June,
tempestuous weather occasionally happens. At this
season, places of shelter are more common that at any
other time, by the filling up of the creeks and inlets
as the river increases *, and on the other hand, the bad
weather, when it happens, is of longer continuance
than during the season of the north-westers. The ri¬
vers being now spread to the distance of several miles,
large waves are raised on them, particularly when blow¬
ing in a direction contrary to the rapid parts of the
stream, which for obvious reasons ought to be avoid¬
ed.
This navigation is performed in safety during the
interval between the end of the rainy season and the
beginning of the north-westers; an ordinary degree
of attention being then only requisite to pilot the boat
clear of shallows and stumps of trees. The season of
the north-westers requires the greatest care and atten¬
tion. Should one of these squalls approach, and no
creek or inlet offer for shelter, the steep bank of the
rivers should be always sought as a place for shelter, if
it is not in a crumbling state*, whether it be to the
windward or leeward, rather than the other. If this
cannot be donej the flat side must be taken up with 5
Of the in¬
land navi¬
gation in
Bengal.
* See Can
get.
8 ] BEN
and if it be a lee shore, the anchor should be thrown Bengal.
out to prevent driving upon it. In these cases the mast' y——1
is always supposed to be struck ; and, provided this be
done, and the cargo judiciously disposed of, there is little
danger of any of the boats commonly made use of being
overset. 8
The boats used in the inland navigation of Bengal
are called buclgeroes, and are formed somewhat like a
pleasure barge. Some have cabins 14 feet broad and ’ <
proportionally long, drawing from four to five feet
water. Their motion is very slow, not exceeding the
rate of eight miles a-day when moved by their oars $
so that their progress down the river must depend prin¬
cipally on the motion of the current. From the be¬
ginning of November to the middle or latter end of
May, the usual rate of going down the stream is about
40 miles in twelve hours, and during the rest of the
year from 50 to 70 miles. The current is strongest
while the waters of the inundation are draining off,
which happens in part of August and September. In
many of the shallow rivers, however, the current is
exceedingly slow during the dry months j insomuch
that the track-rope is frequently used in going down¬
wards. In towing against the stream, the steep side of
the river is generally preferred on account of the depth
of water, though the current runs much stronger there
than on the opposite side. On these occasions it is ne¬
cessary to provide a very long track-rope, as well for
avoiding the fallen pieces of the steep bank on the one
side, as the shallow water on the other, when it becomes
necessary to change sides through the badness of the
tracking ground. The anchor should always be kept
ready for dropping in case the track-rope breaks. The
usual rate of towing against the stream is from 17 to 20
miles a-day j and to make even this progress, the wind¬
ings of the river require the beats to be dragged against
the current at the rate of four miles and a half per hour
for 12 hours. When the waters are high, a greater pro¬
gress will be made, notwithstanding the superior strength
of the current *, because the filling of the river-bed gives
many opportunities of cutting off angles and turnings,
and sometimes even large windings, by going through
creeks.
Bengal pi'oduces the vegetables and animals com¬
mon to other countries in the torrid zone. Its great
produce of grain is rice, which is commonly exported
from thence into other countries. By various acci¬
dents, however, the crop of rice sometimes fails, and
a famine is produced j and of this there have been ma¬
ny instances in Bengal as well as in other parts of Hin- 9
dostan. One of the most deplorable of this kind bap-Accountof
pened in the year 1770. The nabob and several other a dreadful
men of the country distributed rice groff.? to the poorfammein
until their stocks began to fail, when those donations ‘
were of consequence withdrawn. Vast multitudes then
came down to Calcutta, the capital English settlement
in the province, in hopes of meeting with relief at the
place. The granaries of the Company, however, be¬
ing quite empty, none could be afforded $ so that when
the famine had prevailed a fortnight, many thousands
fell down in the streets and fields j whose bodies, mang¬
led by the dogs and vultures, corrupting in the air,
seemed to threaten a plague as the consequence of the
famine. A hundred people were daily employed on
the Company’s account, with doolys, sledges, and
bearers,
B E N [ 559 ] BEN
j l- nsa!. bearers, to throw them into the river. At this time
Brv"the fish could not be eaten, the river being so full of
carcases j and many of those who ventured to feed up¬
on them died suddenly. Hogs, ducks, and geese, al¬
so fed mostly on carnage ; so that the only meat that
could be procured was mutton ; and this, from the
dryness o® the season, was so small, that a quarter of it
10 would scarcely weigh a pound and a half.
Smiislng ln t)ie month of August a most alarming pheno-
in!*ts° nien‘m appeared, ol a large black cloud at a distance
in the air, which sometimes obscured the sun, and
seemed to extend a great way over and above Cal¬
cutta. I he hotter the day proved the lower this cloud
seemed to descend, and for three days it occasioned
great speculation. The bramins pretended, that this
phenomenon, which was a cloud of insects, should
make its appearance three times ; and if ever they de¬
scended to the earth, the country would be destroyed
by some untimely misfortune. They said, that above
I jo years before there had been such another bad time,
when the earth was parched for want of water ; and
this cloud of insects made its appearance, though it
came much lower the second time than it had done be¬
fore. On the third day, the weather being very hot
and cloudy, they descended so low that they could be
plainly seen. They seemed to be about the size of a
horse-stinger, with a long red body, large head and
eyes, keeping close together like a swarm of bees, and
to appearance, flying quite on a line. None, how¬
ever, were caught, as the people were so much fright¬
ened by the prognostications of the bramins. Whilst
it rained they continued in one position for near a quar¬
ter of an hour j then they rose five or six feet at once,
and in a little time descended as much, until a strong
north-west wind blew for two days successively. Du¬
ring its continuance they ascended anti descended, but
more precipitately than before; and next morning the
air was quite clear. For some days before the cloud
made its appearance, the toads, frogs, and insects, which
during the rains made a continual noise through the
night, disappeared, and were neither heard nor seen,
! except in the river. •
Can: of This dreadful famine was occasioned by a preterna-
hetmine. tural drought. In this country they have two har¬
vests; one in April, called the little harvest, which con¬
sists of the smaller grain ; the second called the grand
harvest, is only ot rice. But by a drought which hap¬
pened in 1769, the great harvest of that year failed, as
did also the little one of 1770, which produced the
2 dreadful consequences already mentioned.
' enable Among the vegetables produced in Bengal, Mr Ives
•on2' mentions the areca-tree, the woody part of which is
as tough as whalebone. Here is also a beautiful tree
called chulta, the flower of which is at first a hard
green ball on footstalks about four inches in length.
This opens, and the calyx is composed of five round
thick and succulent leaves ; the corolla consists of the
like number of fine beautiful white petals. After one
day the corolla falls oft* and the ball closes again, and
is sold in the markets. There is a succession of these
for several months. The mango tree grows here also
in plenty. Its fruit is preferred to all others in the
country, excepting very fine pine-apples ; the gentle¬
men eat little else in the hot months when these fruits
are in season. If no wine is drunk with them they
are apt to produce boils, which are troublesome hut Bengal,
healthful. In the walks of Bengal they have a tall —v —
tree called the iutoon, said to have been first brought
into England by Captain Birch. The leaves are of a
deep shining green, the lower part rather paler where
it is ribbed, and undulated round the edges. The
fruit is of the size, shape, and colour of an olive, with
a moderately thin husk, and a kernel like that of the
date ; five or six grow on the same pedicle. Near
Calcutta is a large spreading tree called the rnssa, which
makes a fine appearance when in full bloom. The na¬
tives say, that this and another near the Dutch settle¬
ment are the only two in Bengal. They pretend like¬
wise that they can never find the seed ; but Mr Ives
informs us, that this is to be met with in plenty, though
in a bad condition, the ants and other vermin being
so fond of them, that not a single pod is ever to be
met with that is not touched by one or other of these
species of insects. This tree bears flowers of bright
crimson, and all the. shades from thence down to a.
bright yellow. They are in such plenty as almost to
cover the tree, but have little or no smell. The fruit
is a pod of the shape and size of a large garden-bean,
containing four or five fleshy seeds, which easily fall
into two when dry. They are brown on the outside,
white within, and nearly square, but convex on the
sides.
Among the animals to be met with in Bengal Mr Birds of an
Ives makes mention of a kind of birds named cy^y/extraordi-
or hurgill (see Ardea, sp. 6.). They are very large,nary s5ze“
and in the evenings would majestically‘stalk along like
as many naked Indians, for which our author at first
mistook them. On discovering that they were birds
he resolved to shoot one of them; which, however, was
very difficult to be done. The Indians, showed evi¬
dent marks of dissatisfaction at the attempt ; and in¬
formed him that it was impossible to succeed, because
these birds Avere possessed by the souls of bramins. At
last, hoAvever, he succeeded ; and informs that the bird
he shot extended 14 feet 10 inches between the tips of
the wings ; from the tip of the bill to the extremity
of the claw Avas seven feet and a half: the legs were
naked, as Avas also one half of the thighs ; the naked
parts being three feet in length. The feathers of the
Avings and back Avere of an iron colour, and very
strong; those of the belly Avere very long, and on the
breast Avas a great deal of down all of a dirty Avhite.
The bill was 16 inches round at the base, nearly of a
triangular shape, and of different colours. In the craAv
Avas a land tortoise 10 inches long; and a large black
male eat Avas found entire in its stomach.
Bengal is reckoned the richest and most populous Cominercs ,
province in the empire of Hindostan. Besides its oAAm “damk
consumption, which is certainly very considerable, its
exports are immense. One part of its merchandise is
carried into the inland country. Thibet takes off a
quantity of its cottons, besides some iron and cloths of
European manufacture. The inhabitants of those
mountains fetch them from Patan themselves, and give
musk and rhubarb in exchange.
But the trade of Thibet is nothing in comparison
of that which Bengal carries on Avith Agra, Delhi,
and the provinces adjacent to those superb capitals, in
salt, sugar, opium, silk, silk-stuffs, and an infinite
quantity of cottons, and particularly muslins. These
articles
BEN [ 560 "I . BEN
Bengal, articles, taken together, amounted long ago to more
v v"'"-'1 than 1,750,000!. a-year. So considerable a sum was
not conveyed to the banks of the Ganges ; but it was
the means of retaining one nearly equal, which must
have issued from thence to pay the duties, or for other
purposes. Since the viceroys of the Mogul have made
themselves nearly independent, and send him no reve¬
nues but such as they choose to allow him, the luxury
of the court is greatly abated, and the trade we have
15 been speaking of is no longer so considerable.
Maritime. The maritime trade of Bengal, managed by the na¬
tives of the country, has not suffered the same diminu¬
tion, nor was it ever so extensive, as the other. It may
be divided into two branches, of which Catek is in pos¬
session of the greater part.
Catek is a district of some extent, a little below the
most western mouth of the Ganges. Balasore, situated
upon a navigable river, serves it for a port. The navi¬
gation of the Maldives, which the English and French
have been obliged to abandon on account of the cli¬
mate, is carried on entirely from this road. Here they
load their vessels with rice, coarse cottons, and some silk
stuffs, for these islands ; and receive cowries in the ex¬
change, which are used for money in Bengal, and sold
to the Europeans.
The inhabitants of Catek, and some other people of
the Lower Ganges, maintain a considerable correspon¬
dence with the country of Asham. This kingdom,
which is thought to have formerly made a part of Ben¬
gal, and is only divided from it by a river that falls
into the Ganges, deserves to be better known, if what
is asserted here be true, that gunpowder has been dis¬
covered there, and that it was, communicated from
Asham to Pegu, and from Pegu to China. Its gold,
silver, iron, and lead mines, would have added to its
fame, if they had been properly worked. In the midst
of these riches, which were of very little service to this
kingdom, salt was an article of which the inhabitants
were so much in want, that they were reduced to the
expedient of procuring it from a decoction of certain
plants.
In the beginning of the present century, some Bra-
mins of Bengal carried their superstitions to Asham,
where the people were guided solely by the dictates
of natural religion. The priests persuaded them, that
it would be more agreeable to Brama if they substi¬
tuted the pure and wholesome salt of the sea to that
which they used. The sovereign consented to this on
condition that the exclusive trade should be in his
bands 5 that it should only be brought by the people of
Bengal ; and that the boats laden with it should stop
at the frontiers of his dominions. Thus have all these
false religions been introduced by the influence and for
the advantage of the priests who teach, and of the
kings who admit them* Since this arrangement has
taken place, 40 vessels from qoo to 600 tons burden
each are annually sent from the Ganges to Asham laden
with salt, which yields 200 per cent, profit. They
receive in payment a small quantity ot gold and silver,
ivory, musk, eagle-wood, gum-lac, and a large quantity
of silk.
Excepting these two branches ol maritime trade,
which, for particular reasons, have been confined to
the natives of the country, all the rest of the vessels
sent from the Ganges to the different sea-ports of India
belong to the Europeans, and are built at Pegu. See
Pegu.
A still more considerable branch of commerce, which
the Europeans at Bengal carry on with the rest of In¬
dia, is that of opium. Patna, situated on the Upper
Ganges, is the most celebrated place in the world for
the cultivation of opium. The fields are covered with
it. Besides what is carried into the inland parts, there
are annually 3000 or 4000 chests exported, each
weighing 300 pounds. It sells upon the spot at the
rate of between 24I. and 25I. a chest on an average.
This opium is not purified like that of Syria and Per¬
sia, which we make use of in Europe j it is only a paste
that has undergone no preparation, and has not a tenth
part of the virtue of purified opium.
The Hutch send rice and sugar from their settle¬
ments to the coast of Coromandel, for which they are
paid in specie, unless they have the good fortune to
meet with some foreign merchandise at a cheap rate.
They send out one or two vessels laden with rice, cot¬
tons, and silk: the rice is sold in Ceylon, the cottons
at Malabar, and the silk at Surat •, from whence they
bring back cotton, which is usually employed in the
coarser manufactures of Bengal. Two or three ships
laden with rice, gum-lac, and cotton stuffs, are sent to
Bassora ; and return with dried fruits, rose-water, and
a quantity of gold. The rich merchandise carried to
Arabia is paid for entirely in gold and silver. The
trade of the Ganges with the other sea-ports of India
brings 1,225,000!. annually into Bengal.
Though this trade passes through the hands of the
Europeans, and is carried on under their protection,
it is not entirely on their own account. The Moguls,
indeed, who are usually satisfied with the places they
hold under the government, have seldom any concern
in these expeditions ; but the Armenians, who, since
the revolutions in Persia, are settled upon the banks of
the Ganges, to which they formerly only made voya¬
ges, readily thi’ovv their capital into this trade. The
Indians employ still larger sums in it. The impossibi¬
lity of enjoying their fortunes under an oppressive go¬
vernment does not deter the natives of this country from
labouring incessantly to increase them. As they would
run too great a risk by engaging openly in trade, they
are obliged to have recourse to clandestine methods. ^
As soon as an European arrives, the Gentoos, whoc;entoc
know mankind better than is commonly supposed, study brokers,
his character ; and, if they find him frugal, active, and
well informed, offer to act as his brokers and cashiers,
and lend or procure him money upon bottomry, or at
interest. This interest, which is usually nine per cent,
at least, is higher when he is under a necessity of bor¬
rowing of the Cheyks. jy
These Cheyks are a powerful family of Indians,Cheyks,a
'who have, time immemorial, inhabited the banks ofpowerfal
the Ganges. Their riches have long ago procured ^n.^an fa"
them the management of the bank belonging to the
court, the farming of the public revenue, and the di¬
rection of the money, which they coin afresh every
year, in order to receive annually the benefit arising
from the mint. By uniting so many advantages, they
are enabled to lend the government 1,750,000k
2,625,000k or even 4,375,000k at a time. When
BEN
Ifeza!.
Prinmal
towia
the government finds it impossible to refund the mo
ney, they are allowed to indemnify themselves by op¬
pressing the people.
The Europeans who frequent the Ganges have not
been sufficiently alarmed at this despotism, which
ought to have prevented them from submitting to a
dependence upon the Cheyks. They have fallen into
the snare, by borrowing considerable sums of these ava¬
ricious financiers, apparently at nine, but in reality at
thirteen, per cent, if we take into the account the dif¬
ference between the money that is lent them and that
in which they are obliged to make their payments.
The engagements entered into by the French and
Dutch companies have been kept within some bounds $
hut those of the English company have been unlimit¬
ed. In 1755, they were indebted to the Cheyks about
1,225,000!.
The Portuguese, who first frequented this rich coun¬
try, had the wisdom to establish themselves at Chati-
gan, a port situated upon the frontier of Arracan, not
far from the most eastern part of the Ganges. The
Dutch, who, without incurring the resentment of an
enemy at that time so formidable, were desirous of
sharing in their good fortune, were engaged in search¬
ing for a port which, without obstructing their plan,
would expose them the least to hostilities. In 1603,
their attention was directed to Balasore j and all the
companies, rather through imitation than in conse¬
quence of any well-concerted schemes, followed their
example. Experience taught them the propriety of
fixing as near as possible to the markets from whence
they had their merchandise 5 and they sailed up that
branch of the Ganges which, separating itself from the
main river at Mourcha above Cossimbuzar, falls into
the sea near Balasore under the name of the river
Hughly. The government of the country permitted
them to erect warehouses wherever there was plenty
of manufactures, and to fortify themselves upon this
river.
The first town that is met with in passing up the ri¬
ver is Calcutta, the principal settlement of the English
company. See Calcutta.
Six leagues higher is situated Frederic Nagore,
founded by the Danes in 1756, in order to supply the
place of an ancient settlement where they could not
maintain their ground. This new establishment has
not yet acquired any importance, and there is all the
reason imaginable to believe that it will never become
considerable.
Two leagues and a half higher lies Chandernagore,
a settlement belonging to the French. See Chan¬
dernagore.
At the distance of a mile from Chandernagore is
Chinsura, better known by the name of Dougli, being
situated near the suburbs of that anciently renowned
city. The Dutch have no other possessions there, but
merely their fort; the territory round it depending on
the government of the country, which hath frequently
made it feel its power by its extortions. Another in¬
convenience attending this settlement is a sand bank
that prevents ships from coming up to it: they proceed
no farther than Tulta, which is 20 miles below Cal¬
cutta $ and this of course occasions an additional ex¬
pence to the government.
The Portuguese had formerly made Bandel, which
Vol. III. Part II. T
C 561 ]
BEN
is eighty leagues from the mouth of the Ganges, and Bengal
a quarter of a league above the Hughly, the principal 1!
seat of their commerce. Their flag is still displayed, Benguela.
and there are a few unhappy wretches remaining there, v
who have forgotten their country after having been for¬
gotten by it. This factory has no other employment
than that of supplying the Moors and the Dutch with
mistresses. ^
The exports from Bengal to Eui’ope consist of musk, Exp ats,
gum lac, nicaragua wood, pepper, cowries, and some
other articles of less importance brought thither from
other places. Those that are the immediate produce
of the country are borax, saltpetre, silk stuffs, muslins,
and several different sorts of cottons.
It would be a tedious and useless task to enumerate
all the places where ticken and cottons, fit for table-
linen, or intended to be worn plain, painted, or printed,
are manufactured. It will be sufficient to refer to Dac¬
ca, which may be looked upon as the general mart of
Bengal, where the greatest variety of finest cottons are
to be met with, and in the greatest abundance. See
Dacca.
The sum total of the purchases made in Bengal by
the European nations, amounted a few years ago to no
more than 870,000!. One third of this sum was paid
in iron, lead, copper, woollens, and Dutch spices : the
remainder was discharged in money. Since the English
have made themselves masters of this rich country,
its exports have been increased, and its imports di¬
minished, because the conquerors have carried away a
greater quantity of merchandise, and pay for it out of
the revenues they receive from the country. The re¬
venues of Bengal consist chiefly of rents paid to the
government for land. In the year 1811-12, they a-
mounted, including those of Behar and Orixa, to
2,590,0001, to which may be added nearly 200,0001
for the monopolies of salt and opium.
For the history of Bengal, and its conquest by the
British, see the article Indostan.
BENGO, a province of the kingdom of Angola in
Africa, having the sea on the west, and the province of
Moseche on the east. It produces plenty of banana
trees ; but the Portuguese have grubbed up vast quanti¬
ties of these, and cultivated the land, which now abounds
with maize, and the manioc root of which bread is made*. * See
The province is divided into a great number of districts,
of which the chiefs are natives, but tributary to Portu¬
gal, and obliged to till the lands belonging to the Por¬
tuguese. They are Christians, and have eight churches.
BENGUELA, a province of the kingdom of An¬
gola in Africa, bounded on the east by the river Rim-
ba, on the north by the Coanza, and it extends west¬
ward quite to Cape Negro. Benguela was formerly
governed by its own kings $ but was entirely ruined by
the incursions of the barbarous Giagas, so that its be¬
ing conquered by the Portuguese proved a great hap¬
piness. It still retains the title of kingdom, and is al¬
lowed to enjoy some small privileges ; but is far from
being restored to the state of plenty it enjoyed before
its destruction by the Giagas already mentioned. It
produces abundance of salt, but inferior in quality to
that which is made in the province of Chissama. The
zimbis also, whose shells are current as money through
many countries of Africa, are caught upon the coast.
The country, which is mostly mountainous, abounds
4 B with
BEN [ 562 ] BEN
-BenpiJtla with elephants, rhinoceroses, lions, tigers, crocodiles,
11 &c. which are very dangerous, and destroy great num-
^JBenni. jjers 0j.- cattle#
' "v~—1-y BENHINNOM, in Ancient Geography, a valley in
the suburbs, and to the east of Jerusalem, either a part
of or conjoined with the valley of Kidron, (Joshua) }
infamous for sacrificing children, or passing them
through the fire. The place in the valley where the
idol stood to which the sacrifice was made, was called
Tophet, (zKingsxxiii. 10. Jer. vii. 31. 3 2. and xix. 2.),
from beating drums or tabours to drown the cries or
•shrieks of the children : called also Geenon or the Val-
ley of Ennon: whence some derive Gehenna, the place
of future punishment.
BENJAMIN. See Benzoin and Styrax.
BENIARAX, an ancient and considerable town in
the kingdom of Algiers in Africa, seated in W. Long,
o. 30. N. Lat. 35. o.
BENIN, a country of Guinea, in Africa, has part
of the gulf called the Eite of Benin, and the Slave
Coast, on the west ; part of Gago and Biafara on the
north ; Myjac and Makoko on the east 5 and Congo on
the south, where it extends about one degree beyond
the equinoctial line. The length from east to west is
about 600 miles j but its north and south bounds are
not so well determined. The land in general is low
and woody ; in some parts it has rivers and lakes, hut in
others there is a scarcity of water. There is here a
great number of wild beasts, particularly elephants,
lions, tigers, leopards, baboons, monkeys, wild boars,
deer, &c. The birds are partridges, of which some are
blue and some green, turtles, wild ducks, woodcocks,
&c. Their grain is Indian corn : they have no po¬
tatoes ; but plenty of yams, which are of the potato
kind, but vastly larger and more coarse : these are their
ordinary food, and serve in the room of bread ; they
have two sorts of beans, like horse beans, but not near
so good. Their fruits are cocoa-nuts, cormantine apples,
bananas, wild figs, &c.
The negroes have several colours which might serve
for painting, and a good sort of soap made with palm-
oil and wood-ashes j they have a great deal of cotton,
which not only serves for their own use, but is exported
to distant places. The river Rio or Benin has a great
manv arms j some of which are so large that they de¬
serve the name of rivers : it abounds with fish, which
the inhabitants eat smoke-dried as well as fresh. The
place of trade in this river is at Arebo, about 120 miles
distant from its mouth ; and to this place the ships may
sail up. Those who take this voyage see the mouths of
a great many rivers fall into the principal channel to
the right and the left \ but how far it ascends into the
country is not known. A little higher up, the country
is very low and marshy, and seems to be divided into
islands j and yet there are trees of all sizes growing on
the banks 5 this renders the country very unhealthy, as
many of our British sailors have found to their cost; it
is also incommoded with vast numbers ol flies, called
mosquitoes, which sting terribly, and render the skin
full of pustules. There are three principal villages to
which the negroes come from the inland countries to
traffic. One is called Boocladou, and consists of about
50 houses, or rather huts, for they ai-e made with reeds
and covered with leaves. The second, called Arebo, was
mentioned above : this is much larger than the former,
and pretty well stocked with inhabitants , and the houses jjen;n
have much more room, but they are built after the same y—.
manner. The third has the name of Agaton, and was
built upon a hill. It was almost ruined by the wars;
but the negroes lately rebuilt it, on account of its agree¬
able situation. Great Benin is the place of residence
of the king.
The inhabitants of Benin are very exact in their
trading, and will not recede from any of their old cu¬
stoms : this renders them very slow in their dealings,
and backward to pay their debts, which sometimes
obliges the traders to sail before they receive satisfac¬
tion 5 but then they are paid as soon as they return.
Some of the merchants are appointed by the govern¬
ment, which demands a sort of custom •, but it is very
trifling. There are three sorts of officers under the
king ; the first are always near him, and none can ad¬
dress him but by their means : there are several of the
second sort 5 one takes care of the slaves, another of
the cattle, another of the streets, another of war, and
so on.
Children go almost naked till they are 14, and then
they wrap a cotton cloth.round their middles; the rich¬
er sort put on a sort of callico gowns when they go
abroad, with a kind of drawers; but within they are
contented with their usual cloth : the better sort of wo¬
men wear their cotton cloths like petticoats, and have a
covering round their shoulders, but take care it shall be
open before.
The richer sort of the inhabitants of Benin live up¬
on beef, mutton, and poultry; their drink is water,
and brandy when they can get it. The poorer sort
live upon dried fish, bananas, and beans ; their drink
is water and palm-wine. Their chief handicraftmen
are smiths, carpenters, and curriers ; but they perform
all their work in a very bungling manner. The men
have as many wives as they can keep, which they take
without any ceremony except treating their relations.
The wives of the lower sort may go wherever they have
a mind ; but those of the rich are shut up : they allow
their wives to be very familiar with the Europeans, and
yet pretend to be very jealous of their own countrymen.
When a woman is caught in adultery, she is turned
away, and the goods of the man are forfeited to the
husband ; but if the relations of the woman are rich,
they prevail on him to overlook the fault by dint of
presents.
They use circumcision, which is performed seven
days after the children are born, at which time the fa¬
ther makes a feast for the relations ; they have also cu¬
stoms, relating to uncleanness, resembling those of the
Jews. Thieves are punished by making the party a-
mends if they can, otherwise they are bastinadoed ; but
murder is always punished with death. When a person,
is only suspected of a crime, they have several ways of
putting him to trial, like the fire ordeal, or the bit¬
ter water of the Jews: but they are of such a nature,
that the innocent may be as often condemned as the
suilt?- ... . .
With regard to their religion, they believe in an al¬
mighty and invisible God ; yet worship images in a hu¬
man form, and in those ol all sorts of animals, making
them ofl’erings, every one being his own priest; they
look upon these lesser deities as mediators between hin\
and man ; some of tdiese idols are in the house, and some
BEN [ 563 ] BEN
c-nin ‘O cabins by. themselves. Every fifth day is holy ; on Nen ; but Camden says it is Wedon, a village six miles Bennaven-
|| which the rich kill cows, sheep, and goats, and others to the west of Northampton. ta,
giaaven- dogs, cats, and fowls, which they distribute among their BENNET, Henry, earl of Arlington, was born Eennet-
^ - ■ P001 neighbouis. ^ ^ of an ancient family in Middlesex. In the beginning ^
Benin, the capital of a kingdom of the same name, ol the civil war, he was appointed under-secretary to
is the residence of their kings, and is seated pretty far George Lord Digby, secretary of state ; afterward en-
in the country : it stands in a plain, and is about four tered himself as a volunteer for the royal cause, and
miles in^compass. The streets are long and broad : and did his majesty good service, especially at Andover in
there are markets twice a-day, where they sell cows, Hampshire, where he received several wounds. When
cotton, elephants teeth, European merchandises, and the wars were ended, he left not the king when success
whatever the country produces. The houses are large, did, but attended his interest in foreign parts. He
with clays walls, and at a distance from each other ; was made secretary to the duke of York j received the
they are covered with reeds, straw, and leaves. The honour of knighthood from Charles II. at Bruges, in
women in this place are the greatest slaves 5 for they 1658 : and was sent envoy to the court of Spain. His
go every day to market, manage the household affairs, majesty, upon his return to England, called him home,
take care of the children, cook the victuals, and till made him keeper of his privy purse, and principal se-
the ground. The king’s palace makes great part of cretary of state. He had always a peculiar hatred to
the town ; and, its great extent excepted, there is no- the lord chancellor Hyde j who on the other hand
thing worth taking notice of, it being only a confused considered him as a concealed Papist. In 1670 he was
heap of buildings, made with boards and clay, with- one of the council distinguished by the title of the Ca-
out regularity or neatness. In the middle, there is a bal, and one of those who advised shutting up the ex-
wooden tower, about 70 feet high, made like a chim- chequer. In 1672 he was made earl of Arlington and
ney, and on the top is a brazen serpent, hanging with Viscount Thetford, and soon after knight of the Gar-
its head downwards; this is pretty well made, and is ter. In 1673, he was appointed one of the three ple-
the most curious thing in the town ; there is a gal- nipotentiaries from the court of Great Britain to Co-
lery of statues, but so wretchedly carved, that there is logn, to mediate a peace between the emperor and the
no knowing what they represent without being told; king of France. The house of commons, in 1673,
behind a curtain there are II brazen heads, with an drew up articles of impeachment against him. In
elephant’s tooth on each ; these are the king’s idols ; 1674 he was made chamberlain of his majesty’s house-
his throne is made of ivory, on which he sits in a pavi- holdj with this public reason, that it was in recom-
lion of India stuff. The king shows himself but once pense of his long and faithful service, and particularly
a year, on the day of a certain festival ; and then he is for his having performed the office of principal secre-
surrounded with his wives and a great number of his tary of state for the space of 12 years, to his majesty’s
officers, who walk out in procession to begin the feast great satisfaction. But afterward his interest began to
by sacrificing to their gods ; this done, he bestows decline, while that of the earl of Danby increased ; for
victuals and wine among the multitude, which is imi- upon his return from his unsuccessful journey to Hol-
tated by his officers. All the inhabitants of this town land in 1675, his credit was so much sunk, that several
and country go under the denomination of the king's persons at court diverted the king with mimicking his
slaves, and some relations say, that none of them wear person and behaviour; yet he held his lord chamber-
any habit till given them by the king: but this seems Jain’s place to the day of his death in 1685. His
to be only a salvo to account for the great number of esteemed letters to Sir William Temple were published
men and women that are daily seen naked in the after his death.
streets; for if it be true, that the king of Benin can Bennet, Christopher, an eminent physician in the
bring 100,000 fighting men into the field, his subjects 16th century, was the son of John Bennet, of Rayn-
must be very numerous ; and probably his majesty is ton, in Somersetshire. He was educated at Lincoln
not rich enough to bestow garments upon them all. college, Oxford; and gave the public a treatise on con-
The Europeans resort hither to purchase slaves. E, sumptions, entitled, TheatriTabiclorum Vestibuium, &$c.
Long. 5. 4. N. Lat. 7. 40. also Exercitationes Diagnostics, cum Historiis demon-
BENISH-days, among the Egyptians, a term for strativis, quibus Alimentorum .et Sanguinis vitia dete-
three days of the week, which are days of less cere- guntur in plerisque morbis, &fc.
mony in religion than the other four, and have their Bennet, Dr Thomas, an eminent divine, born at
name from the benish, a garment of common use, not Salisbury on the 7th of May 1673, an^ educated at
of ceremony. In Cairo, on Sundays, Tuesdays, and St John’s college, Cambridge. In 1700, he was made
Thursdays, they go to the bashaw’s divan; and these rector of James’s in Colchester: afterwards he was
are the general days of businesss. Friday diey stay at lecturer of St Olave’s, Southwark, and morning-
1 home, and go to their mosques at noon ; but (hough preacher at St Lawrence, Jewry; and at last was pre-
this is their day of devotion, they never abstain from sented to the vicarage of St Giles’s, Cripplegate,
business. The three other days of the week are the worth 500I. a-year. While he was in this station, he
benish-days, in which they throw oft all business and was engaged in several expensive law-suits in defence of
ceremony, and go to their little summer-houses in the the rights of the church, to which he recovered 150I,
country. . a-year. He wrote 1. An Answer to the Dissenters
BENNAYENTA, or Bennavenna, (Antonine) Plea for Separation. 2. A Confutation of Popery,
a town of Britain, on the Ausona Major, or the An- 3. A Discourse of Schism. 4. An Answer to a book
tona of Tacitus : supposed to he Northampton on the entitled Thomas against Bennet. 5, A Confutation of
4 B 2 Quakerism, \
BEN [ 5<H ] BEN
Bennet Quakerism. 6. A brief History of the joint Use of
H pre-conceived Forms of Prayer. 7. An Answer to
JBenserade. Clarke’s Scripture-doctrine of the Trinity. 8. A
Paraphrase, with Annotations on the Book of Com¬
mon Prayer. 9. A Hebrew Grammar ; and other
pieces. He died October 9. 1728, in the 56th year of
his age.
BENOIT, Renatus, a famous doctor of the Sor-
bonne, and curate of Eustathius at Paris, in the 16th
century. He was a secret favourer of the Protestant
religion j and that his countrymen might be able to
read the bible in their own tongue, he published at Pa¬
ris the trench translation, which had been made by the
reformed ministers at Geneva. This translation was
approved of by several doctors of the Sorbonne before
it went to the press, and King Charles IX. had granted
a privilege for the printing of it. Yet when it was pub¬
lished it was immediately condemned. He had been
before that time confessor to the unhappy Mary queen
of Scotland, during her stay in France, and attended
her when she returned into Scotland. Some time be¬
fore the death of Henry III. Hr Benoit, or some of his
friends with his assistance, published a book, entitled,
Apologie Catholique, i. e. The Catholic Apology j in
which it was shown, that the Protestant religion, which
Henry king of Navarre professed, was not a sufficient
reason to deprive him of his right of succeeding to the
crown of France. When Henry IV. w'as resolved to
embrace the Catholic religion, he assisted at that as¬
sembly in which King Henry abjured the reformed re¬
ligion. The king promoted him to the bishopric of
Troyes in Champagne I597> but he could never ob¬
tain the pope’s bulls to be installed. However, he en¬
joyed the temporalities of that bishopric till he resigned
it. He died in 1608.
BENSERADE, Isaac de, an ingenious French
poet of the 17th century, was born at Lyons. He made
himself known at court by his verses and his wit,
and had the good fortune to please the cardinals de
Richelieu and Mazarin. After the death of Richelieu,
he got into favour with the duke de Breze, whom he
accompanied in most of his expeditions 5 and when this
nobleman died, he returned to court, where his poetry
became highly esteemed. He wrote, I. A Paraphrase
upon Job. 2. Verses for Interludes. 3. Rondeaux
upon Ovid. 4. Several Tragedies. A sonnet which
he sent to a young lady with his Paraphrase on Job
being put in competition with the Urania of Voiture
caused him to be much spoken of; for what an honour
was it to be head of a party-against this celebrated au¬
thor ! Those who gave the preference to Benserade’s
performance were styled the Jobists, and their antago¬
nists the Uramsts; and the dispute long divided the
whole court and the wits. Some years before his death,
he applied himself to works of piety, and translated al¬
most all the Psalms.
M. 1’Abbe Olivet says, that Benserade towards the
latter end of his life, withdrew from court, and made
Gentilly the place of his retirement. When he was a
youth, he says it was the custom to visit the remains of
the ornaments with which Benserade had embellished
his house and gardens, where every thing savoured of
his poetical genius. The bark of the trees was full of
inscriptions: and, amongst others, he remembers the
first which presented itself was as follows :
2
Adieu fortune, honneurs adieu, vous et les votres, Benseradi
Je viens ici votes oublier ; [)
Adieu toi memo amour, bien plus que les autres Btnscn.
Difficile a congedier. » ^
Fortune and honours, all adieu,
And whatsoe’er belongs to you.
I to this retirement run,
All your vanities to shun.
Thou too adieu, O powerful love }
From thee ’tis hardest to remove.
M. Voltaire is of opinion that these inscriptions were
the best of his productions, and he regrets that they
have not been collected.
Benserade suffered at last so much from the stone,
that, notwithstanding his great age, he resolved to sub¬
mit to the operation of cutting. But his constancy was
not put to this last proof j for a surgeon letting him
blood, by way of precaution, pricked an artery, and, in¬
stead of endeavouring to stop the effusion of blood, ran
away. There was but just time to call F. Commire,
his friend and confessor, who came soon enough to see
him die. This happened the 19th of October 1691, in
the Sad year of his age.
BENSHEIM, a town of Germany in the grand duchy
of Hesse, seated in E. Long. 8. 45. N. Lat. 52. 23.
BENSON, Hr George, a learned dissenting mini¬
ster, born at Great Salkeld, in Cumberland, in 1699.
His love of learning was so successful, that, at II years
of age, he wa-s able to read the Greek Testament. He
afterwards studied at Hr Hixon’s academy at White¬
haven, from whence he removed to the university of
Glasgow. In 1721, he was chosen pastor of a con¬
gregation of Hissenters at Abingdon in Berkshire ; in
1729, he received a call from a society of dissenters in
Southwark, with whom he continued 11 years ; and
in 1740, was chosen by the congregation of Cl utched
Friars, colleague to the learned and judicious Hr Lard-
ner. From the time of his engaging in the ministry
he proposed to himself the critical study of the Scrip¬
tures, particularly of the New Testament, as a principal
part of his business. The first fruits of these studies
which he presented to the public was, A Hefence of the
reasonableness of Prayer, with a Translation of a Bis-
course of Maximus Tyrius, containing some popular
Objections against Prayer, and an Answer to these.
The light which Mr Locke had thrown on the ob¬
scurest parts of St Paul’s epistles, by making him his
own expositor, encouraged and determined Mr Benson to
attempt to illustrate the remaining epistles in the same
manner. In 1731, he published a Paraphrase and Notes
on the Epistle to Philemon, as a specimen. This was
well received, and the author encouraged to proceed in
his design. With the epistle to Philemon was pub¬
lished “ A short dissertation, to prove from the spi¬
rit and sentiments the apostle discovered in his epistles,
that he was neither an enthusiast nor impostor j and con¬
sequently that the religion which he asserted he received
immediately from heaven, and confirmed by a variety of
miracles, is indeed divine.” This argument hath since
been improved and illustrated, with great delicacy and
strength, in a review of the apostle’s entire conduct and
character by Lord Lyttelton. Mr Benson proceeded
with great diligence and reputation to publish Para¬
phrase*
ii
BEN [ 565 1 BEN
flnson phrases and Notes on the two Epistles to the Tbessalo-
tj nians, the first and second to Timothy, and the Epistle
j3;tivo- Titus j adding, Dissertations on several important
1Q* , Subjects, particularly on Inspiration. In the year 1735,
our author published his History of the first Planting of
Christianity, taken from the Acts of the Apostles, and
their Epistles, in 2 vols 4to. In this work, besides
illustrating throughout the history of the Acts and most
of the epistles, by a view of the history of the times,
the occasion of the several epistles, and the state of the
churches to whom they were addressed, he established
the truth of the Christian religion on a number of facts,
the most public, important, and incontestable. He also
wrote, The Reasonableness of the Christian Religion ;
The History of the Life of Jesus Christ j A Paraphrase
and Notes on the seven Catholic Epistles 5 and seve¬
ral other works which procured him great reputation.
One of the universities in Scotland sent him a diploma,
with a doctor’s degree } and many of high rank in the
church of England, as Herring, Hoadley, Butler,
Benson, Coneybeare, &c. showed him great marks of
favour and regard. He died in the year 1763, in the
64th year of his age.
BENTHAM, Thomas, bishop of Litchfield and
Coventry, was born at Shirburn in Yorkshire in the
year 1513, and educated in Magdalene college, Oxford,
lie took the degree of bachelor of arts in 1543, and
in 1546 was admitted perpetual fellow, and proceeded
master of arts the year following, which was that of
Edward Vi’s accession to the crown. Pie now threw
off the mask of Popery, which during the equivocal
reign of Henry VIII. he had worn with reluctance.
When Mary came to the crown, being deprived of his
fellowship by her visitors, he prudently retired to Basil
in Switzerland, where for some time he expounded the
Scriptures to the English exiles in that city $ but, be¬
ing solicited by some Protestants in London, he re¬
turned to London before the death of the queen, and
Was appointed superintendant of a private congregation
in the city. Immediately on the accession of Eliza¬
beth, Bentham was preferred in the church, and in the
second year of her reign was consecrated bishop of
Litchfield and Coventry. He died at Eccleshal in Staf¬
fordshire in 1578, aged 65. He was buried in the chan¬
cel of the church there ; and a monument was erected,
with the effigy of himself, his wife, and four children,
with the following inscription :
Hac jacet in tumba Renthamus, cpiscopus tile
JJocli/s, divinus, lurgi/s, pascens, pius, almus.
Ob. 19. Feb. 1578.
Bishop Bentham had the character of a pious and
zealous reformer, and was particularly celebrated for
his knowledge of the Hebrew language. His works
are, 1. Exposition of the Acts of the Apostles j manu¬
script. 2. A Sermon on Christ’s Temptation ; Lond.
8vo. 3. Epistle to M. Parker ; manuscript. 4. The
Psalms, Ezekiel, and Daniel, translated into English in
Queen Elizabeth’s Bible.
BENTINCK, W. H. C. third duke of Portland,
a late British statesman. See Supplement.
BENT1VOGLIO, Guy, cardinal, born at Ferrara,
in the year 1579. He went to study at Padua, where
he made a considerable proficiency in polite literature.
Upon his leaving the university, he went to reside at,
Rome, where he became universally esteemed. He was Bentivo-
sent nuncio to Flanders, and then to France ; in both
which employments his behaviour was such as gave , Bentley-1
great satisfaction to Paul V. who made him a cardinal, 'r
which was the last promotion he made, a little before
his death, which happened on the 28th of January
1621. Bentivoglio was at this time in France, where
Louis XIII. and all the French court congratulated
him on his new dignity; and when he returned to Rome,
his Christian majesty entrusted him with the manage¬
ment of the French affairs at that court. Pope Ur¬
ban VII. had a high regard for him on account of his
fidelity, disinterestedness, and consummate knowledge
in business. He was beloved by the people, and esteemed
by the cardinals ; and his qualities were such, that in
all probability he would have been raised to the pontifi¬
cate on the death of Urban, which happened on the
29th of July 1644; but having gone to the conclave
during the time of the most intolerable heats at Rome,
it affected his body to such a degree, that he could not
sleep for 11 nights afterwards; and this want of rest
threw him into a fever, of which he died the 7th of Sep¬
tember 1644, agetl He has left several works; the
most remarkable of which are, A History of the Civil
Wars of Flanders, An Account of Flanders, with Let¬
ters and Memoirs.
Bentivoglio, a small town of Italy in the territory
of Bologna, with a castle, situated in E. Long. 11. 34.
N. Lat. 44. 47.
BENTLEY, Richard, an eminent critic and di¬
vine, was born at Oulton, in the parish of Rothwell,,
near Wakefield. His ancestors, who were of some
consideration, possessed an estate, and had a seat at
Hepenstall, in the parish of Halifax. His grandfather
James Bentley was a captain in King Charles L’s army
at the time of the civil wars ; and being involved in the
fate of his party, had his house plundered, his estate
confiscated, and was himself carried prisoner to Pom-
fret Castle, where he died* Thomas Bentley, the son
of James, and father of Dr Bentley, married the daugh¬
ter of Richard Willis of Oulton, who had been a ma¬
jor in the royal army. This lady, who was a woman
of exceeding good understanding, taught her son Rich¬
ard his accidence. To his grandfather Willis, who
was left his guardian, he was in part indebted for his
education; and having gone through the grammar
school at Wakefield with singular reputation, both for
his proficiency and his exact and regular behaviour, he
was admitted of St John’s college, Cambridge, under
the tuition of Mr Johnson, on the 24th of May 1676;
being then only four months above 14 years of age.
On the 22d of March 1681-2, he stood candidate for
a fellowship, and would have been unanimously elected,
had he not been excluded by the statutes on account of
his being too young for priest’s orders. He was then
a junior bachelor, and but little more than 19^ years
old. It was soon after this that he became a school¬
master at Spalding. But that he did not continue long
in this situation is certain from a letter of his grand¬
father Willis’s, still preserved in the family, from which
it appears, that he was with Dr Stillingfleet at the
deanery of St Paul’s on the 25th of April 1683. He
had been recommended by his college to the dean as
preceptor to his son ; and Dr Stillingfleet gave Mr
Bentley his choice whether he would carry his pupil to
Cambridge
BEN
Bentley. Cambridge or Oxford. He fixed upon the latter uni-
■’ v versity on account of the Bodleian library, to the con¬
sulting of the manuscripts of which he applied with the
closest attention. Being now of age, he made over a
small estate which he derived from his family to his
elder brother, and immediately laid out the money he
obtained for it in the purchase of books. In July
1683, he took the degree of master of arts at St
John’s college, Cambridge. In 1692, his patron be¬
ing advanced to the see of Worcester, collated him to
a prebend in that church, and also made him his do¬
mestic chaplain. That learned prelate, as well as Dr
Will. Lloyd, then bishop of Litchfield, had seen many
proofs of our author’s extraordinary merit, when they
concurred in recommending him as a fit person to open
the lectures upon Mr Boyle’s foundation, in defence of
natural and revealed religion. This gave him a fine
opportunity of establishing his fame. He saw it well;
and resolved to push it to the utmost. Sir Isaac New¬
ton’s Pt-incipia had been published but a few years, and
the book was little known and less understood. Mr
Bentley therefore determined to spare no pains in dis¬
playing to the best advantage the profound demonstra¬
tions which that excellent work furnished in proof of
a Deity ; and that nothing might be wanting to com¬
plete the design, he applied to the author and received
from him the solution of some difficulties which had
not fallen within the plan of his treatise*. In short,
our author’s sermons at Boyle’s lectures were univer¬
sally admired, and highly raised his reputation as a
preacher j nstwithstanding that escape which laid him
open to the 1‘aillery of Dr Keil, viz. of proving the
moon not to turn round her axis, because she always
shows the same face to the earth. In 1693, he was
made keeper of the royal library at St James’s.
In the following year arose the famous dispute be¬
tween him and the honourable Mr Boyle, in relation
to the epistles of Phalaris j of which Mr Boyle had
published a very fine edition, with a Latin version of
the text. These epistles the Doctor asserted to be spu¬
rious, the production of some sophist, and altogether
contemptible as a literary perforniance. The principal
pieces which appeared in this noted controversy were,
i. Dr Bentley’s dissertation upon the epistles of The-
mistocles, Socrates, Euripides, Phalaris, and the Fables
of ./Esop, at the end of the second edition of Mr Wot-
ton’s Reflections on Ancient and Modern Learning:
but afterwards printed by Dr Bentley entire, and add¬
ed with great additions to his farther defence of it, in
answer to Mr Boyle. 2. “ Dr Bentley’s Dissertation
on the Epistles of Phalaris and the Fables of AEsop ex¬
amined by the Honourable Charles Boyle, Esq.” a book
moi'e commonly known by the title of Boyle against
Bentley. 3. Dr Bentley’s Answer to the above, com¬
monly known by the name of Bentley against Boyle;
a curious piece, interspersed with a great deal of true
wit and humour. From the caprice or partiality of the
age the victory was adjudged to Mr Boyle, and the
ridicule of the writs exercised upon Dr Bentley. Thus
Dr Garth, in the Dispensary,
So Diamonds take a lustre from their foil,
And to a BENTLEY "‘tis we owe a BOYLE.
Dr Bentley had also some wags who were his enemies
even at Cambridge, who drew his picture in the hands
[ 566 ]
BEN
* Vid.
Four Let¬
ters from
Sir Isaac
Newton to
Dr Bent¬
ley, Lond.
of Phalaris’s guards, who were putting him into their
master’s bull, and out of the Doctor’s mouth came a'
label with these words, I had rather he Roasted than
Boyled. And Dean Swift, in his Tale of a Tub,
had some strokes at Dr Bentley upon this occasion, but
more especially in his Battle of the Books, where, on
account of Dr Bentley’s Dissertation of Phalaris, &c.
being annexed tp Mr Wotton’s Reflections on Learning,
and their being great friends, he makes Mr Wotton
and Dr Bentley, standing side by side, in each other’s
defence, to be both transfixed to the ground by one
stroke of the javelin of Mr Boyle, and this he height¬
ens by the simile of a cook’s spitting a brace of wood¬
cocks. Nay, so strong is the influence of literary pre¬
judice and fashion, that many even of Dr Bentley’s
friends considered Boyle’s Examination as unanswer¬
able. Nor could they be convinced of the contrary,
till the Doctor, first asking them where it was so im¬
pregnable, and confuting one article after another up¬
on the spot, as fast as they instanced, assured them it
was all of the same kind. This he effectually showed
in his answer. It now, however, seems to be the set¬
tled opinion of the literary world, that the Doctor has
not only the evident advantage in respect of learning
and argument, but that he is little, if at all, inferior to
his antagonist in point of wit and smartness. It may
not, however, be amiss to recite a few testimonies on
the subject. Mr Walpole, speaking of Mr Boyle’s
translation of the Epistles of Phalaris, says, “ This
work occasioned the famous controversy with Dr Bent¬
ley j—who alone, and unworsted, sustained the attacks
of the brightest geniuses in the learned world, and
whose fame has not suffered by the wit to which it
gave occasion.” Mr Towers, in his British Biography,
expresses himself in the following terms : “ In the
controversy between him and Mr Boyle, the popular
clamour, indeed, was in favour of the latter; but
Bentley’s is unquestionably a much more valuable per¬
formance than that of Boyle. The latter, considered as
a mere English composition, has the advantage in point
of style ; and pleased the generality, by the personal
satire which it contained against Dr Bentley, who had
many enemies. But Bentley had greatly the superi¬
ority with respect to just reasoning, critical sagacity,
and extent of learning ; and his vindication of himself
also contained many shrewd and sarcastical strokes a-
gainst Mr Boyle and his performance. Much has been
said in favour of Mr Boyle, as a genteel and polite
writer $ and it must be confessed, that Dr Bentley’s
manner was often too assuming, and that he was defi¬
cient in point of civility. But notwithstanding this,
there was, perhaps, a much greater want of real can¬
dour and politeness, whatever affectation of them there
might be, in the very contemptuous and unfair man¬
ner in which Dr Bentley was treated throughout Mr
Boyle’s book, than in any thing which Bentley had
said against Boyle. Bentley, with all his foibles, was
too respectable a character to be a proper subject of
such treatment: though Swift, Garth, and Pope, have
joined in countenancing the popular prejudices against
him.” Mr Dodwell, who resided at Oxford during
the controversy, who made himself in some sort a party
in it, and who had a very particular court paid to him
by the Christ-Church men, declared to them that he
never learned so much from anv book of the size in his
life,
Bentley,
BEN [ 5
t]ey. life, as lie had done from Dr Bentley’s Answer to
Boyle.
In 1696, at the public commencement, Air Bentley
had been created doctor of divinity by the university
of Cambridge; and some time thereafter, admitted, ad
eundem, in the university of Oxford.
In 1700 he was presented to the mastership of Tri¬
nity college, Cambridge, which is reckoned worth near
1000I. per annum. Upon this promotion he resigned
his prebend of Worcester; and, in 1701, was collated
to the archdeaconry of Ely. Being thus placed in a
state of ease and affluence, he entered into matrimony,
and indulged his inclination in critical pursuits ; and
the fruits of his labours, which he occasionally publish¬
ed, all displayed such erudition and sagacity, that, by
degrees, he obtained the character of being the great¬
est critic of the age. In the mean while, however, he
carried matters with so high a hand in the government
of his college, that, in 1709, a complaint was brought
before the bishop of Ely, as visitor, against him, by
several of the fellows, who charged him with embez¬
zling the college money, and other misdemeanors.
In answer to this, he presented his defence to the bi¬
shop, which he published in 1710, under the title of
The present State of Trinity College, 8vo ; and thus be¬
gan a quarrel, which was carried on with the most vi¬
rulent animosity on each side, for above 20 years, when
it at last ended in the Doctor’s favour. In 1716, upon
the death of Dr James, he was appointed regius pro¬
fessor of divinity in the former university ; annexed to
which was a good benefice in the bishopric of Ely. His
majesty King George I. on a visit to the university in
1717, having, as usual, nominated by mandate several
persons for a doctor’s degree in divinity, our professon,
to whose office it belonged to perform the ceremony
called creation, demanded four guineas from each per¬
son, besides a broad piece of gold, and absolutely re¬
fused to create any doctor without these fees : hence
there arose a long and warm dispute, during which,
the doctor was first suspended, and then degraded;
but on a petition to his majesty for relief from that
sentence, the affair was referred to the court of King’s-
bench, where the proceedings against him being re¬
versed, a mandamus was issued, charging the university
to restore him. With regard to Dr Bentley’s long
dispute with his college, Mr Whiston represents his ha¬
ving been induced in a single instance, after four years
of unexceptionable conduct,'to recede from the excel¬
lent rule of detur digniori, in the election to a fellow¬
ship, as the first false step which led to others, and
was very prejudicial to his own happiness. A concise
and accurate account of his controversies with his col¬
lege and the university, and of the publications which
appeared on these occasions, may be seen in Air Gough’s
anecdotes of topography. There are likewise, in‘the
Harleian collection of manuscripts in the British Mu¬
seum, N° 7523, some authentic papers, relative to the
proceedings of the university against Dr Bentley. Dr
Bentley wras endowed with a natural hardiness of tem¬
per, which enabled him to ride out both these storms
without any extraordinary disturbance, or interruption
to his literary pursuits. In his private character, though
he is.generally allowed to have been too fond of money,
he was hearty, sincere, and warm in his friendship, an
aftectifinate husband, and a most indulgent father. He
67 ] ' BEN
loved hospitality and respect; maintained the dignity ]3cat]ey
and munificence of the ancient abbots in house-keep-  v- n
ing at his lodge, which he beautified ; and, in conver¬
sation, tempered the severity of the critic with such a
peculiar strain ot vivacity and pleasantry, as was very
entertaining. He died at his lodge in Trinity college,
on the 14th of July 1742, at 80 years of age. To
his latest hour, he could read the smallest Greek Te¬
stament without spectacles ; and he died of a young
man’s disorder, a pleuritic fever. He was of a large
and robust frame of body, and of strong features.
Ihese gave a dignity, perhaps a severity, to his aspect,
which probably heightened the opinion many had con¬
ceived of the haughtiness and roughness of his temper.
But, in lact, he was of so tender a disposition, that he
never read a touching story without tears. It was not,
indeed, till after he had been afflicted with a slight pa¬
ralytic stroke, that this particular effect of the softness
of his nature was in every case apparent: so that it
may possibly be imputed, in some degree, to his disor¬
der. It is, however, certain that previous to that event
he was endued with great tenderness and sensibility.
In the contest about the visitatorial power, when he
met Bishop Aloore, he was so struck with seeing his
old friend appear in a hostile manner against him, that
he fainted away in the court.
When we consider the great abilities and uncommon
erudition of which Dr Bentley was possessed, it reflects
some disgrace on our country, says Dr Kippis, that
even his literary reputation should be so long treated
with contempt; that he should be represented as a mere
verbal critic, and as a pedant without genius. The
unjust light in which he was placed, was not entirely
owing to the able men who opposed him in the Boylean
controversy: it arose perhaps principally from the
poets engaging on the same side of the question, and
making him the object of their satire and ridicule.
The “ flashing Bentley” of Pope will be remembered
and repeated by thousands who know nothing of the
Doctor’s real merit. Having mentioned this epithet,
we shall add the candid note of the poet’s right reve¬
rend editor. “ This great man with all his faults,
deserved to be put into better company. The follow¬
ing words of Cicero describe him not amiss: “ Hahuit
a natura genus quoddam acuminis, quod etiam arte li-
inaverat, quod erat in reprehendis verbis versutum et
solers ; sed scepe stomachosum, nonnunquam frigidum,
interdum etiam facetum." In the fourth book of the
Dunciad, Air Pope introduces our critic at greater
length, and with still greater severity. Perhaps it may
be iound that the asperity of Air Pope was not entirely
owing to the combination of certain wits and poets
against Dr Bentley, but to personal resentment. W7e
are told that Bishop Atterbury, having Bentley and Pope
both at dinner with him, insisted on knowing what opi¬
nion the Doctor entertained of the English Homer.
He for some time eluded the question ; but at last, be¬
ing urged to speak out, he said, “ The verses are good
verses ; but the work is not Homer, it is Spondanus.”
It must indeed be acknowledged, that one cause of
Dr Bentley’s having enemies, was his not always bear¬
ing his faculties with sufficient meekness. He appears
to have had a considerable degree of literary pride, and
to have spoken of himself and others with uncommon
freedom. Air Whiston informs us.of the Doctor’s ha-«
ving
BEN [ 568 ] B E B
■Bentlev. ving Said, “ That when he himself should be dead,
' V   asse would be the most learned man in England.”
Dr Salter, who was extremely devoted to the memory
of Dr Bentley, confessed that he was remarkable for
hisfastus, especially towards his equals, and for speak¬
ing highly ol himself. But at the same time, he is
described by Dr Salter as having been a very amiable
and pleasant man in private life, and as possessing much
good nature, though he had been otherwise represent¬
ed. This account agrees with the most authentic in¬
formation from different quarters. It is related of Dr
Bentley, that he used to pull off his hat to the younger
students, but would not do it to the fellows of his
college. Being asked the reason for making this dif¬
ference, he answered, “ That the yeung ones might
come to something j but for the others, they never
could be good for any thing.”
The Doctor’s principal works, besides those already
mentioned, were, 1. Animadversions and Remarks on
the poet Callimachus. 2. Annotations on the two first
Comedies of Aristophanes. 3. Emendations, &c. on
the I ragment of Menander and Philemon. 4. Remarks
upon Collins’s discourse of freethinking. 5. Beautiful
and correct editions of Horace, Terence, Phaedrus, and
Milton, with notes.
In 1 721 he published Proposals for printing a new
edition of the Greek Testament, and St Hierom’s
Eatin version j in which edition he intended to make
no use of any manuscript that was not at least 1000
years old. Upon these proposals Dr Middleton pub¬
lished some remarks; and the work never made its ap¬
pearance. “ If Dr Middleton’s attack contributed to
this event (Dr Kippis observes), he certainly did no
little disservice to the cause of sacred literature. The
completion of Dr Bentley’s noble undertaking was the
principal employment of the latter part of his life. He
had collected and collated all the manuscripts of Eu¬
rope to which access could be obtained. For this pur¬
pose, his nephew Thomas Bentley, LL. D. well known
in the republic of letters, travelled through Europe at
his uncle’s expence. The work was of such magnitude,
that he found it necessary, for the first time, to publish
proposals for printing it by subscription. The whole
was completed for publication ; and he had received
2000I. in part of the subscription, all of which he re¬
turned to the subscribers when he took the resolution
of not letting it appear in the world during his own life.
1 he work is now in the possession of his executor Dr
Richard Bentley, one of the senior fellows of Trinity
College, and rector of Nailston near Ashby in Leice¬
stershire ; and it is hoped that at some future period it
may yet see the light:—Other valuable remains of Dr
Bentley are still in existence ; some of which are in the
hands of his executor, and some in those of Mr Cum¬
berland bis grandson. The latter gentleman is pos¬
sessed of the Doctor’s classic books, with his margi¬
nal notes. From these notes Mr Cumberland hath
published an edition of Lucan ; which though not per¬
fect throughout, is full and complete with regard to
the four first books. The same gentleman has a Ho¬
mer of our great critic’s, with many marginal notes
and corrections, preparatory to an edition of it which
he intended to have given. Dr Bentley’s critical cor¬
respondence with his numerous literary acquaintance,
which must be very instructive and entertaining, is
not only preserved, but designed to be laid before the Bentle,
public.” a
The Doctor’s publication of Milton, it is said, was
owing to Queen Caroline. Her majesty represented
to him, that he had printed no edition of an English
classic, and urged him to undertake Milton. His notes
upon this great poet have been the worst received of
any of his critical performances. The learned Bishop
Newton speaks of them with considerable severity, in¬
termixed, however, with some applause.
BENZOIN, in Materia Medico, a concrete resinous
juice, obtained from a species of styrax. See Chemis¬
try and Materia Medica Index.
BERMAS, a coarse cloth, all made with cotton-
thread, which comes from the East Indies, and parti¬
cularly from Surat.
BERAR, a province of Asia, in the British East
Indian possessions, adjoining to the province of Bengal.
It abounds in corn, rice, pulse, and poppies, from which
last they extract opium ; and sugar-canes grow almost
without cultivation. One fourth of the inhabitants are
Mahometans and three fourths Hindoos.
BERAUM, a royal city of Bohemia, and capital
of a circle of the same name. E. Long. 14. 25. N.
Lat. 50. 2.
BERAY, a town of Normandy in France, situated
in W. Long. 1. 20. N. Lat. 49. 6.
BERBERIS, the Barberry. See Botany Index.
BERBICE, a river of Terra Firma in America,
which falls into the North sea, in S. Lat. 6. 30. The
district on both sides of the river has the same name,
and was long a Dittch colony, but in 1814 was ceded
to Britain. See Berbice, Supplement.
BERCARIA, Berqheria, or Berkeria, in mid¬
dle-age writers, denotes a sheep-fold, sheep-cote, sheep-
pen, or other enclosure, for the safe keeping a flock of
sheep.—The word is abbreviated from berbicaria; of
berbex, detorted from vervex. Hence also a shepherd
was denominated berbicarius and berquarius.
BERCHEROIT, or Berkoits, a weight used at
Archangel, and in all the Russian dominions, to weigh
such merchandises as are heavy and bulky. It weighs
about 3641b. English avoirdupois weight.
BERCHEM, or Berghem, Nicholas, an excel¬
lent painter, was a native of Haerlem, and born in
1624. He received instructions from several very emi¬
nent masters : and it was no small addition to their
fame that Berchem was their scholar. The charming
pictures of cattle and figures by this admirable master
are justly held in the highest estimation. He has been
singularly happy in having many of them finely en¬
graved by John Visscher, an artist of the first "rank.
Berchem had an easy expeditious manner of painting,
and an inexpressible variety and beauty in the choice
of sites for his landscapes j executing them wdth a sur¬
prising degree of neatness and truth. He possessed a
clearness and strength of judgment, and a wonderful
power and ease in expressing bis ideas j and although
his subjects were of the lower kind, yet his choice of
nature was judicious, and he gave to every subject as
much of beauty and elegance as it would admit. The
leafing of his trees is exquisitely and freely touched ;
bis skies are clear; and his clouds float lightly, as if
supported by air. The distinguishing characters of
the pictures of Berchem are, the breadth and just di-
sti-ibution
B E R t 569 ] B E R
jtohem stnbation of the lights $ the grandeur of his masses of
. 1 light and shadow; the natural ease and simplicity in
the attitudes of his figures, expressing their several cha¬
racters j the just gradation of his distances $ the bril¬
liancy and harmony, as well as the transparence, of
his colouring 5 the correctness and true perspective of
his design ; and the elegance of his composition : and
where any of those marks are wanting, no authority
ought to be sufficient to ascribe any picture to him.
He painted every part of his subjects so extremely well,
as to render it difficult to determine in which he excel¬
led most; his trees, buildings, waters, rocks, hills,
cattle, and figures, being all equally admirable.
BERCHETT, Peter, an eminent history painter,
was born in France in 1659, ani^ at t^ie age °f I8 was
employed in the royal palaces. He came to England
in 168 r, to work under Rambour, a French painter
of architecture ; but, after staying a year, returned to
Marli. He came again, and was sent by King Wil¬
liam to the palace he was building at Loo, where he
was employed 15 months; and then came a third time
to England, where he had sufficient business. We are
informed by Mr Walpole, that he then painted the
ceiling of the chapel of Trinity college, Oxford, the
staircase at the duke of Schomberg’s in Pall-mall, and
the summer-house at Ranelagh. His drawings in the
academy were much approved. Towards the close of
his life he retired to Marybone, where he painted only
small pieces of fabulous history, and died there in Ja¬
nuary 1720.
BERDASH, in antiquity, was a name formerly
used in England for a certain kind of neck-dress ; and
hence a person who made or sold such neckcloths was
called a berdasher, from which is derived our word ha¬
berdasher.
BERECYNTHIA, the mother of the gods, in the
Pagan theology.
BERENGARIANTSM, a name given by ecclesi¬
astical writers to the opinion of those who deny the
truth and reality of the body and blood of Christ in the
eucharist. The denomination took its rise from Beren-
garius, archdeacon and scholiasticus of the church of St
Mary at Anjou about the year 1035, who maintained,
that the bread and wine, even after consecration, do not
become the true body and blood of our Lord, but only
a figure and sign thereof.
Berengarianism was strenuously opposed by Lanfranc,
Guitmond, Adelmannus, Albericus, &c. Divers sy¬
nods were held, wherein the author was condemned at
Rome, Versailles, Florence, Tours, &c. He retracted,
and returned again more than once ; signed three se¬
veral Catholic confessions of faith ; the first in the se¬
cond council of Rome, the second in the third, and
the third in the fourth council of the same city. But
he still relapsed to his former opinion when the storm
was over ; though Mabillon maintains he soon recover¬
ed from his fourth fall, and died an orthodox Catholic
in 1088.
BERENICE, daughter of Ptolemy Auletes king
of Egypt, succeeded her father before his death. This
banished prince implored the assistance of the Romans.
Pompey i*estored him. Berenice, to support herself on
the throne, allured a prince, whose name was Seleu-
cus, descended from the kings of Syria, and admitted
him to her nuptial bed, and to her sceptre. She was
VOL. III. Part II. f
soon weary of him, and put him to death. She next Berenice
cast her eye on Archelaus, who married her, and put 1)
himself at the head of her troops to repulse the Romans. Beiesowr.
He was killed in a battle. Ptolemy returned to Alex-
andria, and put his rebellious daughter to death.
Berenice, wife of Ptolemy Euergetes king of E*
gypt, cut off her hair in pursuance of a vow, and con*
secrated it in the temple of Venus. This deposit be¬
ing afterwards lost, Connon the mathematician, in
compliment to her, declared that the queen’s locks had
been conveyed to heaven, and composed those seven
stars near the tail of the bull, called to this day coma
Berenices.
Berenice, daughter of Costobarus and of Salome
sister to Herod the Great, was married first to Aristo-
bulus, son of the same Herod and Mariamne. He ha¬
ving a brother who married the daughter of Archelaus
king of Cappadocia, often upbraided Berenice that he
was married below himself in wedding her. Berenice
related all these discourses to her mother, and exaspe¬
rated her so furiously, that Salome, who had much
power over Herod’s mind, made him suspect Aristobu-
lus, and was the principal cause that urged this cruel
father to get rid of him. She married again ; and ha¬
ving lost her second husband, went to Rome, and got
into the favour of Augustus. But, above all, she insi¬
nuated herself into the good graces of Antonia, the
wife of Drusus, which in the end proved of great ser¬
vice to Agrippa.
Berenice, grand-daughter of the preceding, and
daughter of Agrippa I. king of Judea, has been much
talked of on account of her amours. She was be¬
trothed to one Marcus, but he died before the mar¬
riage. Soon after, she married his uncle Herod, who
at the desire of Agrippa, both his brother and father-
in-law, was created king of Chalcis by the emperor
Claudius. She lost her husband in the eighth year of
the emperor Claudius; and in her widowhood, it was
rumoured she committed incest with her brother Agrip¬
pa. To put a stop to this report, she offered herself
in marriage to Polemon king of Cilicia, provided he
would change his religion. He accepted her offers,
was circumcised, and married her. Berenice soon left
him to follow her own ways, and he abandoned Ju¬
daism to return to his former religion. She was always
very well with her brother Agrippa, and seconded him
in the design of preventing the desolation of the Jews.
She got Titus into her snares; but the murmurs of the
Roman people hindering her from becoming his wife,
there remained nothing for her but the title of mistress
or concubine of the emperor. The French stage, in
the 17th century, resounded with the amours of Titus
and Berenice.
Berenice, in Ancient Geography, the name of se¬
veral cities, particularly of a celebrated port-town in
the Sinus Arabicus : Now Sued ; which see.
Berenice's Hair, Coma Berenices. See Berenice.
BERE-regis, a town of Dorsetshire in England,
in W. Long. 2. ij. N. Lat. 50. 40.
BERESOW, a division of the province of To¬
bolsk in Siberia. It is bounded on the north by the
straits of Waigatz, on the east by a large bay of the
Frozen ocean, which runs into the land towards the
south, and at the 65th degree of latitude separates into
two arms ; one of which is called the Obskaia-Guba, or
4 C Oby -
B E R
Eeresow
II
Bergamas
Oby-bay; and the other Tazowskaia-Gvba, or the bay
of Ta%ow. The river Oby empties itself into the for¬
mer, and the Taz into the latter. This district was
_/ under the Russian dominion long before the other parts
of Siberia were conquered, being reduced by the Czar
Gabriel so early as the year 1530.
BEREWICHA, or Berewica, in our old writers,
denotes a village or hamlet belonging to some town or
manor, situated at some distance therefrom.—The word
frequently occurs in Doomsday-book : Istce sunt bere-
wic/ne ejusdem manerii.
BERG, a duchy of Germany, in the circle of West¬
phalia. It is bounded on the north by the duchy of
Cleves, on the west by the county of Mark and the
duchy of Westphalia, on the south by Wetteravia, and
on the east by the diocese of Cologne, from which it is
separated by the Rhine. It contains about 1188 square
miles, with 295,000 inhabitants. It is very fruitful
along the Rhine, but mountainous and woody towards
the county of Mark. It was formerly subject to the
elector palatine, but since 1815 has been included in
the grand duchy ot the Lower Rhine, which belongs to
Prussia. The duchy of Berg was taken from Bavaria
in 1806, and bestowed upon Murat, afterwards king of
Naples. It is a populous and flourishing district. The
principal rivers, besides the Rhine, are the Wipper,
Agger, and Sieg.
Berg, St JFinox, a town of the Low Countries, in
the country of Flanders, fortified by Vauban, and sub¬
ject to France. It is seated on the river Colme, six
miles from Dunkirk, and 21 from Ypres. The air is
often very unwholesome, especially to strangers. The
river Colme serves instead of a canal to go to Hondshot,
St Omer’s, and Gravelines. There is likewise another
canal to go to Dunkirk. The villages in its territory
are very famous for butter and cheese, of which they
send a great quantity to Flanders. Fort Lapin and
Fort Suisse are within cannon shot of this place, and
Fort St Francis is seated on the canal, near three miles
from the town. E. Long. 2. 25. N. Lat. 50. 57.
Berg zabern, a town of France, in the department
of the Lower Rhine. E. Long. 7. 55. N. Lat. 49. 4.
BERG-Gruin, in Natural History, the name of an
earth used in painting, and properly called green okre,
though not known among the colour-men under that
name. It is found in many parts of Germany, Italy,
and England, commonly in the neighbourhood of cop¬
per-mines, from particles of which metal it receives its
colour. In many parts of Germany, they have a purer
kind of this, distinguished by no peculiar name, but
separated by art from the waters draining from the
copper-mines, and differing no otherwise from this na¬
tive substance, than as the washed okres of Oxford¬
shire, &c. do from those sent us in their natural condi¬
tion. The characters by which the native kind is
known from other green earths, are these : it is a dense
compact substance, considerably heavy, and of a pale
but not disagreeable green $ of a rough and uneven,
but not dusty surface, and somewhat unctuous to the
touch. It adheres firmly to the tongue ; does not
break easily between the fingers ; nor at all stains the
hands. It is of a brackish disagreeable taste, and does
not ferment with acids.
BERGAMASCO, a province of Italy, in the Austro-
Venetian territories. It is bounded on the east by the
2
[ 57° f
B E R
Bressan, on the north by the Yalteline, on the west and Bemn
south by the Milanese. It extends about 36 leagues '’co ***
from north to south, and 30 from east to west. It is ||
watered by several rivers, which render it very fertile, BerSe!>’
and particularly it produces a great number of dies-
nuts. It has mines of iron, and quarries of marble,
and other stones of which they make millstones. There
are a great number of villages, but no city except Ber¬
gamo the capital. The people are very industrious,
and make the best of their natural productions. They
are well stocked with cattle, and make fine tapestry.
Their language is the most corrupt of any in Italy.
BERGikMO, James Philip de, an Augustin
monk, born at Bergamo in 1434, wrote in Latin a
Chronicle from the creation of the world to the year
1503, and a Treatise of Illustrious Women. He died
in 1518.
Bergamo, anciently Bergommn, a large and strong
town of Italy, in the Venetian territory, and capital of
the province of Bergamasco. It has a strong citadel,
and is the see of a bishop. Its situation near the Alps
makes the inhabitants subject to swellings in their
throats, owing to the badness of the Alpine waters. E.
Long. 9. 38. N. Lat. 45. 42.
BERGAMOT, a species of citron, produced at first
casually by an Italian’s grafting a citron on the stock
of a bergamot pear-tree, whence the fruit produced by
this union participated both of the citron-tree and the
pear- tree. The fruit, hath a fine taste and smell, and
its essential oil is in high esteem as a perfume. The
essence of bergamot is also called essentia de cedra. It
is extracted from the yellow rind of the fruit by first
cutting it in small pieces, then immediately squeezing
the oil out of them into a glass vessel. This liquor is
an etherial oil. A water is distilled from the peel as
follows : Take the outer rind of three bergamots, a
gallon of pure proof-spirit, and four pints of pure wa¬
ter $ draw off a gallon in a balneum marise, then add
as much of the best white sugar as will be agreeable.
Or take of the essence of bergamot three drams and a
half, of rectified spirit of wine three pints, of volatile
sal ammoniac a dram ; distil off three pints in a bal¬
neum marine.
Bergamot is also the denomination of a coarse ta¬
pestry, manufactured with flocks of silk, wool, cotton,
hemp, ox, cow, or goat’s hair, and supposed to be in¬
vented by the people of Bergamo in Italy.
BERGARAC, a very rich, populous, and trading
town of France, seated on the river Dordogne, in E.
Long. o. 37. N. Lat. 50. 57.
BERGAS, a town of Romania, in European Tur¬
key, and the see of a Greek archbishop. It is seated
on the river Larissa, in E. Long. 27. 30. N. Lat. 41.
I7-
BERGEN, anciently Bergi, a city of Norway, and
capital of the province of Bergenhus. It is the see of
a bishop, and has a strong castle and a good port. It
is a large place j but is subject to fires, as being all
built of wood. It is surrounded with mountains, and
the inhabitants amount to 15,000. The country is ge¬
nerally barren ; in consequence of which, most of the
corn used is imported. The principal trade is in stock¬
fish, fir, and deal-boards. E. Long. 5. 45. N. Lat.
60. ir.
Bergen, a town of Pomerania in Germany, and ca¬
pital
B E R [5*
pita! of the isle of Rugen, now subject to Prussia. E.
Jvong. 13. o. N. Lat. 54. 30.
Bergen-op-zoom, a town of the Low Countries,
in Dutch Brabant, ami in the marquisate of the same
name. Tt is seated on an eminence, in the middle of
a morass, about a mile and a half from the eastern
branch el the Scheld, with which it has a communica¬
tion by a navigable canal. The houses are well built,
the market-places and squares handsome and spacious,
and the place contains about 4800 inhabitants. The
church before the last siege was reckoned a good build¬
ing. It has a very advantageous situation on the con¬
fines of Brabant, Holland, Zealand, and Flanders. It
is strong by nature as well as by art, being so secured
by the morasses about it, which are formed by the river
Zoom, that it was reckoned impregnable. It was, how¬
ever, taken in 1747 by the French, but it is thought
not without the help of treachery. The fortifications
are allowed to be the masterpiece of that great engineer
Cohorn. It had been twice besieged before without
success. When the marquis of Spinola invested it, he
was forced to raise the siege with the loss of 10,000
men; and, in 1814, an unsuccessful attempt to take
it was made by a British force under Sir Thomas
Graham. E. Long. 4. 15, N. Lat. 51. 30.
BERGHEM. See Berchem.
BERGHMONT, an assembly or court held upon a
hill in Derbyshire, for deciding controversies among
the miners.
BERGMAN, Sir Torbern, a celebrated chemist
and natural philosopher, was born in the year 1735 at
Catharineberg in Westgothland. His father was recei¬
ver-general of the finances, and had destined him to the
same employment ; but nature had designed him for
the sciences. To them he perceived an irresistible in¬
clination from his earliest years, and nature proved
more powerful than the will of his friends. His first
studies were confined to mathematics and physics : and
the efforts that were made to divert him from science
having proved ineffectual, he was sent to Upsal, with
permission to follow the bent of his inclination. Lin-
nteus at that time filled the whole kingdom with his
lame. Instigated by his example, the Swedish youth
flocked around him : and accomplished disciples leaving
his school, carried the name and the system of their
master to the most distant parts of the globe. Bergman
was struck with the splendour of his renown ; he at¬
tached himself to the man whose merit had procured
it, and by whom he was very soon distinguished. He
applied himself at first to the study of insects, and made
several ingenious researches into their history ; among
others into that of the genus of tenthredo, so often and
so cruelly preyed on by the larvae of the ichneumons,
that nestle in their bowels and devour them. He dis¬
covered that the leech was oviparous ; and that the coc¬
cus aquaticus is the egg of this animal, from whence
issue ten or twelve young. Linnaeus, who had at first
denied this fact, was struck with astonishment when he
saw it proved. Vidi et obstupui! were the words he
pronounced, and which he wrote at the foot of the
memoir when he gave it his sanction. Mr Bergman
soon distinguished himself as an astronomer, naturalist,
and geometrician ; but these are not the titles by
which he acquired his fame. The chair of chemistry
' i 1 BEK
and mineralogy, which had been filled by the celebrated Ber^
Wallerius, becoming vacant by his resignation, MrBerg- —v
man was among the number of the competitors: and
without having before this period discovered any parti¬
cular attention to chemistry, he published a memoir on
the preparation of alum that astonished his friends as
well as his adversaries. Nobody was able to conceive
how in so short a time he could have made a course of
experiments so complete, on a subject so new to him.
His dissertation was warmly attacked in the periodical
publications, and Wallerius himself criticised without
reserve. But in the midst of so many enemies, he
possessed a firm friend. The prince Gustavus, now
king of Sweden, and then chancellor of the univer¬
sity, took cognizance of the affair. After having con¬
sulted two persons, the most able to give him advice,
and whose testimony went in favour of Bergman, he
addressed a memorial, written with his own hand, in
answer to all the grievances alleged against the candi¬
date, to the consistory of the university and to the se¬
nate, who confirmed the wishes of his Royal Highness.*
Mr Bergman had now a hard duty to fulfil : he
had to satisfy the hopes that were conceived of him ;
to fill the place of Wallerius; and to put envy to si¬
lence. He did not follow the common track in the
study of chemistry. As he had received the lessons
of no master, he was tainted with the prejudices of no
school. Accustomed to precision, and having no time
to lose, he applied himself to experiments without
paying any attention to theories: he repeated those
often which he considered as the most important and
instructive, and i*educed them to method ; an improve¬
ment till then unknown. He first introduced into
chemistry the process by analysis, which ought to be
applied to every science ; for there should be but one
method of teaching and learning, as there is but one
of judging well. These views have been laid down
by Mr Bergman in an excellent discourse, which con¬
tains, if we may say so, his profession of faith in what
relates to the sciences. It is here that he displays him¬
self without disguise to his reader; and here it is of
importance to study him with attention. The pro¬
ductions of volcanoes had never been analyzed when
Messrs Ferber and Troil brought a rich collection of
these into Sweden. At the sight of them Mr Berg¬
man conceived the design of investigating their nature.
He examined first of all the matters least altered by the
fire, and the forms of which were still to be discerned :
he followed them in their changes progressively ; he
determined, he imitated their more complicated ap¬
pearances ; he knew the effects which would result
from the mixture and decomposition of the saline sub¬
stances which are found abundantly in these produc¬
tions. He discovered such as were formed in the hu¬
mid way ; and then in his laboratory he observed the
process of nature ; that combat of flames and explo¬
sions ; that chaos in which the elements seem to clash
and to confound one another, unveiled themselves to
his eyes. He saw the fire of volcanoes kindled in the
midst of pyritical combinations, and sea-salt decompo¬
sed by clays ; he saw fixed air disengaged from calcined
calcareous stones, spreading upon the surface of the
earth, and filling caverns in which flame and animal life
are equally extinguished ; he saw the sulphureous acid
4 C 2 thrown
Berj-man
fl
Bemig’s
Strait!..
B E R [ sj2
thrown out in w;ives, convert itself into the vitriolic
hy mere contact with the air 5 and distilling through
the rocks, form the alum veins of the Solfatara. He
j saw the bitumens as they melted j the inflammable and
sulphureous airs exhaling j and the waters become mi¬
neral and impregnated with the fire and vapours of
these stupendous furnaces, preparing for the beings that
move and dispute on the crust of the abyss, a remedy
for pain and a balsam for disease.
*1 he continual application which Mr JBergman be-
stovyed on his studies having aflected his health, he was
advised to interrupt them if he wished to prolong his
life: but he found happiness only in study, and wished
not to forfeit his title to reputation by a few years
more of inactivity and languor. He exhausted his
stiength, and died in the month of June in the year
1784. The university of Upsal paid the most distin¬
guished honours to his memory ; and the academy of
Stockholm consecrated to him a medal to perpetuate
the regret of all the learned in Hurope for his loss.
His Physical and Chemical Essays have been collected
and translated by Dr Edmund Cullen, and published in
2 vols. 8vo.
BERGOMUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the 1 ranspadana, built by the Gauls on their incursions
into Italy. Now called Bergamo, in the territory of
Venice. E. Long. 10. N. Lat. 45. 40.
BERIA, Berie, Berry, signifies a large open field ;
and those cities and towns in England which end with
that w'ord are built on plain and open places, and do not
derive theiy names from boroughs as Sir Henry Spel-
man imagines. Most of our glossographers in the
names of places have confounded the word berie with
that of bury and borough, as if the appellative of an¬
cient towns: whereas the true sense of the word berie,
is a flat wide champaign, as is proved from sufficient
authorities by the learned Du Fresne, who observes
that Beria Sancti Edmundi, mentioned by Mat. Paris,
sub ann. U74> not t° be taken foJ* the town, but
for the adjoining plain. To this may be added, that
many flat and wide meads, and other open grounds, are
called by the name of beries and bery-Jields ■, the spa¬
cious meadow between Oxford and llslay was in the
reign of King Athelstan called Eery; as is now the
largest pasture-ground in Quarendon in the county of
Buckingham, known by the name of Beryjield. And
though these meads have been interpreted demesne or
manor meadows, yet they vvere truly any flat or open
meadows that lay adjoining to any villa or farm.
BERING, Sinus, of Copenhagen, a Latin lyric
poet, flourished about 1560.
BERING’S Straits, the name of that narrow di¬
vision of the old and new world, where the distance
between Asia and America is only 13 leagues. They
are so named from Captain Vitus Bering, a Dane by-
birth, and employed on the same plan of discovery in
these parts as our great countryman Cook was in the
late voyage. He was in the service of Peter the
Great : who, by the strength of an extensive genius,
conceiving an opinion of the vicinity of America to
his Asiatic dominions, laid down a plan of discovery
worthy of so extraordinary a monarch, but died before
the attempt was begun ; but his spirit survived in his
successor. Bering, after a tedious and fatiguing jour-
sey through the wilds of Siberia, arrived iu Karats-
3
]
B E R
chatka, attended with the scanty materials for his voy-
age, the greatest part of which he was obliged to bring
with him through a thousand difficulties. He sailed
from the river of Kamtschatka on July 15. 1728 j and
on the 15th of August, saw Serdze Kamen, or the heart-
shaped rock, a name bestowed on it by the first disco¬
verer.—From Serdze Kamen, to a promontory named
by Captain Cook East Cape, the land trends south¬
east. The last is a circular peninsula of high cliffs,
projecting far into the sea due east, and joined to the
land by a long and very narrow isthmus, in lat. 66. 6.
ihis is the Tschutski Noss of our navigators, and forms
the beginning of the narrow straits or division of the
old and new world. The distance between Asia and
America in this place, as already mentioned, is only
13 leagues. The country about the cape, and to the
north-west of it, was inhabited. About mid-channel
are two small islands, named by the Russians the isles
of St Diomedes; neither of them above three or four
leagues in circuit. It is extremely extraordinary that
Bering should have sailed through this confined pas-
sage, and yet that the object of his mission should have
escaped him. His misfortune could only be attributed
to the foggy weather, which he must have met with in
a region notorious for mists ; for he says that he saw
land neither to the north nor to the east. Our gene¬
rous commander, determined to give him every honour
his merit could claim, has dignified these with tire
name of Bering's Straits. The depth of these straits
is from 12 to 29 or 30 fathoms. The greatest depth
is in the middle, which has a slimy bottom ; the shal¬
lowest parts are near each shore, which consist of sand
mixed with bones and shells. The current or tide was
very inconsiderable, and what there was came from the
west. 1 rom East Cape the land trends south by west.
In lat. 65. 36. is the bay in which Captain Cook had
the interview with Tschutski. Immediately beyond is
the bay of St Laurence, about five leagues broad in the
entrance and four deep, bounded at the bottom by high
land. A little beyond is a large bay, either bounded
by low land at the bottom, or so extensive as to have
the end invisible. To the south of this are two other
bays j and in N. Lat. 64. 13. Long. 186. 36. is the
extreme southern point of the land of the Tschutski.
Ihis formeily was called the Anadirskoi Noss. Near
it Bering had conversation with eight men, who came
off to him in a baidar or boat covered with the skins of
seals ; from which Bering and others have named it
the Tschutski Noss.
BERI1H, a simple mentioned in Scripture, used
for cleansing or taking out spots (Jer. ii. 22.). Some
will have it to be the kali or salt-wort, from the ashes
of which soap is made } and in our version it is ren¬
dered soap : others, after Rudbeck, made it to be the
dye of the purple fish.
BERKELEY, George, the celebrated bishop of
Cloyne, was the eldest son of William Berkeley, Esq.
of Thomastown in the county of Kilkenny, a cadet
of the family of Earl Berkeley of Berkeley castle. At
eight years of age he was sent to the school of the Or¬
mond foundation at Kilkenny, from which Swift had
a few years before been removed to the university.
Before Berkeley had attained his fourteenth year he
was admitted a pensioner in Trinity college, Dublin, in
which whilst B. A. he obtained a fellowship. Some
of
Bering’,
Strait,
B E R [ 573 ] BEK
Bjkeley. his essays as a writer were published in the
w-v’-"-' Spectator and Guardian, which entertaining works he
adorned with many pieces in favour of virtue and re¬
ligion. His learning and his virtues, his wit and agree¬
able conversation, made his friendship sought and his
acquaintance cultivated by many great and learned men :
and among others by the earl of Peterborough, Dr Swift,
Dr Arbuthnot, Mr Pope, and Mr Addison. The earl
took him as chaplain and secretary of embassy into Italy;
and during his absence on that occasion he became senior
fellow of his college, and was in 1717 created D. D. bv
diploma.
Upon his return, his acquaintance among the great
was considerably extended ; and Lord Burlington, who
at Rome had conceived for him a high esteem on ac¬
count of his skill in architecture, obtained for him,
through the duke of Grafton, then (1721) lord-lieu-
tenant ol Ireland, the king’s grant of the deanery of
Down, worth 2000I. per annum. Such however w'as
the narrow system of politics at that time prevalent
in the Irish cabinet, that though his majesty had actu¬
ally signed the grant, the lords justices recommended
back for the deanery of Down Swift’s Dean Daniel,
celebrated for having in a state sermon styled Pompey
an unfortunate gentleman : and such was Dr Berkeley’s
humility and mildness of temper, that he could not be
prevailed upon to dispute the matter, or even to ex¬
postulate on the subject. His patron Lord Burlington
procured for him afterwards (1724) the deanery of
Derry, the next best in Ireland to that of Down ; and
upon this preferment the Doctor resigned his fellow¬
ship.
In the year 1722 his fortune received a considerable
increase from an event by him very unexpected. Upon
his first going to London (1717) he sent one morning
a note to Swift, desiring that they might dine together
that day at a tavern. The dean of St Patrick’s return¬
ed for answer, that they might enjoy one another’s
company at their ease where he himself was engaged
to dine, with the family of Mrs Esther Vanhomrigh
(the celebrated Vanessa) ; and thither he took Mr
Berkeley. Some years before her death this lady re¬
moved to Ireland, and fixed her residence at Cell-bridge,
a pleasant village in the neighbourhood of Dublin, most
probably with a view of frequently enjoying the com¬
pany of a man for whom she had conceived a very sin¬
gular attachment. But finding herself totally disap¬
pointed in that expectation, she altered her intention
of making the dean of St Patrick’s her heir, and left
the whole of her fortune (8000I.) to be divided equal¬
ly between her near relation Judge Marshal of the
common pleas in Ireland, and Dr Berkeley, whom she
had never seen but once in her life, and that at the
distance of nine years.
In the interval between Dr Berkeley’s return from
abroad and his preferment to the deanery of Derry, his
mind had been employed in conceiving a noble and be¬
nevolent plan for the better supplying of the churches
in our foreign plantations, and for converting the sa¬
vage Americans to Christianity, by erecting a college
in the Summer Islands. To this proposal the address
and abilities of its author procured, after a tedious at¬
tendance on the great, an apparently successful recep¬
tion ; for he obtained a charter for its foundation, to¬
gether with a parliamentary grant of 20,oool. for car-
rying it into execution, to which were added several Berkeley,
large subscriptions from individuals, to be paid as soon -v—
as the public bounty should be received. Upon the
faith of this, our philosopher embarked for America ;
where he became so generally and so justly venerated
by all descriptions of men, that each vied with the
other which should most honour him. The queen,
with whom he was a favourite, had endeavoured to dis¬
suade him from this enterprise, by offering him her in¬
terest for an English bishopric ; but he replied, that he
should prefer the headship of St Paul’s college at Ber¬
muda to the primacy of all England. From that head¬
ship he was to enjoy a revenue of rook per annum:
and was bound by his charter to resign his deanery,
then worth nool. per annum, within a year and a half
after the 20,0001. should be paid by government. That
sum was never paid ; and after two years residence on
Rhode Island and its neighbouring continent, during
which time every interest of piety and virtue was near to
his heart and cultivated by his labours, the dean was
obliged to return to Europe, and abandon one of the no¬
blest designs that had ever entered into the human heart
to form.
In August 1728, immediately before his departure
for America, he entered into marriage with Anne, the
eldest daughter of the right honourable John Forster,
Esq. speaker of the Irish house of commons ; which la¬
dy died in 1785. In May 1734 *ie was consecrated bi¬
shop of Cloyne, and vacated his deanery. On that oc¬
casion he said to his few intimates, “ I will never ac¬
cept of a translation.’’ At Cloyne he distinguished
himself by pastoral vigilance, prelatical hospitality, and
constant residence. Through the whole of his cleri¬
cal life, he was, while his health permitted, a constant
and an extemporaneous preacher ; nor is it known that
he ever reduced a single sermon to writing, except one
preached before the society for propagating the gospel
in foreign parts, which at their request was publish¬
ed. He endeared himself to the people of his diocese
by promoting at once their temporal and their spirit¬
ual happiness. He endeavoured by all means to raise
a spirit of industry, and to propagate the arts of culti¬
vation and agriculture in that neglected country ; and
it may be truly said, that never man laboured more
earnestly to amass a fortune or to aggrandize a family,
than he did to promote the best interests of mankind,
considered either as citizens on earth or as candidates
for heaven.
The earl of Chesterfield, who had never seen him but
once, and that when they were both young men, on
being made lord lieutenant of Ireland sent to him a
most respectful offer of the then vacant see of Clogher,
of more than double the value of Cloyne, promising at
the same time his recommendation to any other richer
see that might be vacated during his administration.
But the good bishop declined the generous offer, re¬
questing the lord lieutenant not to think of him on any
other vacancy, as he was resolved never to quit his first
bishoprick for any other. In 1751, finding the infirmi¬
ties of age come upon him, and wishing to retire from
the care of his diocese to superintend the education of
his son (then nominated a student of Christ-church, and'
now prebendary of Canterbury), that the revenues of
the church might not be misapplied, nor the interests
of religion suffer by the absence of the pastor from
B E R
Berkeley, his flock, he made great interest for leave to resign his
bishopric, of which the iricome was then not less than
1700I. per annum. Failing of success in this applica¬
tion, he let the lands of his demesne at Cloyne, on very
easy terms, at the rent of 200I. which he directed to
be distributed annually among the poor house-keepers
of Cloyne, Youghall, and Aghadda, until his return.
At Oxford he lived highly respected by the learned
members of that great university, till the hand of Pro¬
vidence unexpectedly deprived them of the pleasure and
advantage derived from his residence among them. On
Sunday evening, January 14th 1753, as he was sitting
in the midst of his family, and just after he had con¬
cluded an extemporaneous comment on the 15th chapter
of 1 Cor. he was instantly translated, without a groan,
from earth to heaven. A polypus in the heart was the .
cause of his dissolution. About a minute before his
death he had seated himself on a couch and turned his
face towards the wall ; and had he not ceased speaking
in the middle of a sentence, his lady and his son would
not immediately have discovered their loss. His re¬
mains were, with much funeral solemnity, interred at
Christ church, his friend Bishop Conyheare, then dean
ol that cathedral, performing the last service. An
elegant marble monument, with a spirited inscription
by the present archbishop of York, marks the spot
where his ashes rest. As to his person, he was of the
tall middle sire •, his countenance was very handsome,
and full of meaning and benignity j and his bodily
strength was uncommonly great, even to the last year
of his life: but he was subject to grievous nervous co¬
lics, in which he thought tar-water gave him more effi¬
cacious relief than any other medicine. Mr Pope sums
up his character in one line. After mentioning some
particular virtues which characterized other prelates
then living, he ascribes
To Berkeley ev’ry virtue under heav’n.
t
An admirable description is given of him in the fol¬
lowing anecdote. Bishop Atterbury, having heard
much of Mr Berkeley, wished to see him. According¬
ly he was one day introduced to that prelate by the earl
of Berkeley. After some time, Mr Berkeley quitted
the room : on which Lord Berkeley said to the bishop,
u Does my cousin answer your lordship’s expectations ?”
The bishop, lifting up his hands in astonishment, re¬
plied, “ So much understanding, so much knowledge,
so much innocence, and such humility, I did not think,
had been the portion of any but angels, till I saw this
gentleman.” His knorvledge is said to have been ex¬
tended to the minutest objects, and included the arts
and business of common life. Thus Dr Blackwell, in
his Memoirs of the court of Augustus, having made an
observation, “ that the ingenious mechanic, the work¬
ers in stone and metal, anti improvers in trade, agricul¬
ture, and navigation, ought to be searched out and con¬
versed with no less than the professors of speculative
science,” adds the following eulogium on our prelate :
“ In this respect I would with pleasure do justice to
the memory of a very great though singular sort of a
man, Dr Berkeley, better known as a philosopher and
intended founder of an university in the Bermudas or
Summer Islands, than as bishop of Cloyne in Ireland.
An inclination to carry me out on that expedition, as
[ 574 ]
B E R
one of the young professors on his new foundation, hav¬
ing brought us often together, I scarce remember to
have conversed with him on that art, liberal or me¬
chanic, of which he knew not more than the ordinary
practitioners. With the widest views, he descended
into a minute detail, and grudged neither pains nor ex¬
pence for the means of information. He travelled
through a great part of Sicily on foot; clambered over
the mountains and crept into the caverns, to investigate
its natural history, and discover the cause of its volca¬
noes : and I have known him sit for hours in forgeries
and founderies to inspect their successive operations.
I enter not into his peculiarities either religious or per¬
sonal but admire the extensive genius of the man, and
think it a loss to the western world that his noble and
exalted plan of an American university was not carried
into execution. Many such spirits in our country
would quickly make learning wear another face.”
He published many ingenious works, particularly,
“ An essay towards a new theory of vision :” “ The
principles of human knowledge 5” the singular notions
in which gave rise to much controversy: “ Alciphron,
or the minute philosopher:” one of the most elegant
and genteel defences of that religion which he was born
to vindicate both by his virtues and his ingenuity :
“ The Analyst j” in which he endeavours to show that
Sir Isaac Newton’s doctrine of fluxions is more incom¬
prehensible than any mystery in the Christian religion:
“ The Querist $” in which the true interests of Ireland
are pointed out in a very striking light: and “ Siris, or
a treatise on tar-water,” which, under his sanction, be¬
came for a while a very popular medicine. In the Gen¬
tleman’s Magazine for January 1777, it is said that the
adventures of Signior Gaudentio di Lucca have been
generally attributed to Bishop Berkeley ; but we have
the best authority to say that they were not the off¬
spring of his pen. The bishop never saw the work till
it was put into his hands by his son ; and when he read
it, he expressed no small contempt for the style of a wri¬
ter who describes his hero as a tall, clean-made gentle¬
man ; though he owned his fancy to be often brilliant.
We believe the adventures of Gaudentio di Lucca were
written by a Romish pi'iest for his amusement when a
prisoner in the Tower of London.
BERKSHIRE, is an inland county of England,
which contained the whole of that British principality
inhabited by the Atrebatii, who are supposed to have
been originally from Gaul. When Constantine divid¬
ed the island into Roman provinces in 3x0, this prin¬
cipality was included in Britannia Prima, the first divi¬
sion, whose boundaries were the English channel on
the south, and the Thames and Severn on the north.
On the Romans quitting the island, and civil dissen¬
sions enabling the Saxons to establish the Heptarchy,
this part of the country was included in the kingdom
of the West Saxons, which commenced in 519, and
continued till 828, when it became the only remain¬
ing sovereignty, having conquered all the others, and
they were incorporated by the name of England, un¬
der Egbert; whose grandson, Alfred, a native of Wan¬
tage, in this county, in 889 divided his kingdom into
counties, hundreds, and parishes, and at this time this
division first received its appellation of Berkshire, or
Berocshire. At present it is in the Oxford circuit, the
province
Rcrkele’
B E B
1 rksln’i'C
province of Canterbury, and diocese of Salisbury. The
general shape of it somewhat resembles the form of a
slipper or sandal. It is 42 miles long, 28 broad, about
137 in circumference, and contains an area of 438,977
acres, or by other accounts, 476,170. It is situated
north-west of London } has 140 parishes, 62 vicarages,
12 market towns but no city, 671 villages ; is divided
into 20 hundreds; sends nine members to parliament,
two for the county, two for Windsor, two for Reading,
two for Wallingford, and one for Abingdon ; and pays
10 parts of the proportion of the land-tax. In 1811 the
number of houses was 22,104, and the whole popula¬
tion 1x8,277. Its principal river is the Thames. It
also has the Kennet, great part of which is na¬
vigable ; the Loddon, the Ocke, and the Lambourne,
a small stream, which, contrary to all other rivers, is
always highest in summer, and shrinks gradually as
winter approaches. The air of this county is healthy
even in the vales; and though the soil is not the most
fertile, yet it is remarkably pleasant. It is well stored
with timber, particularly oak and beech, and produces
great plenty of wheat and barley. Its principal manu¬
factures are woollen cloth, sail-cloth, and malt.
Its market towns are Abingdon, Faringdon, Hun-
gerford, East Ilsley, Lower Lambourne, Maidenhead,
Newbury, Ockingham, Reading, Wallingford, Wan¬
tage, and Windsor, remarkable for its royal castle, as
the county is for White horse-hill, near Lambourne,
where is the rude figure of a horse, which takes up
near an acre of gi-ound on the side of a green hill,
said to have been made by Alfred in the reign of his
brother Ethelred, as a monument to perpetuate a vic¬
tory over the Danes in 872, at Ashdown, now Ash-
burg-Park.
’Ihe Roman W atlmg-street, from Dunstable, enters
Berkshire, at the village of Streatley, between Walling¬
ford and Reading, and crossing this county proceeds
to Marlborough. Another Roman road from Hamp¬
shire enters this county, leads to Reading and New¬
bury, the Spina; of Camden, where it divides : one
branch extends to Marlborough in Wilts, and the 0-
ther to Cirencester in Gloucestershire. A branch from
the Icknield-street proceeds from Wallingford to Wan¬
tage.
There is a Roman camp near Wantage on the brow
of a hill, of a quadrangular form ; there are other re¬
mains of encampments at East-Hampstead, near Ock¬
ingham, near White-horse-hill, near Pusey, and upon
Sinodun-hill, near Wallingford. At Lawrence Wal¬
tham is a Roman fort, and near Denchworth is Cher-
bury castle, a fortress of Canute. Ussington castle,
near White-horse hill, is supposed to be Danish 5 and
near it is Dragon-hill, supposed to be the burying-place
of liter Pendragon, a British prince. Near White¬
horse hill are the remains of a funeral monument of a
Danish chief slain at Ashdown by Alfred. In this
county the following antiquities are worthy the notice
of travellers: Abingdon church and abbey: Aid-
worth castle, near East Ilsley j Bysham monastery j
Dunnington castle j Lambourne church j Reading ab¬
bey 5 Sunning chapel j Wallingford church and castle.
Windsor castle beggars all description for situation,&c.
Berkshire is an earldom belonging to a branch of the
Howard family, the representative being earl of Suffolk
and Berkshire. See Berkshire, Supplement.
C 575 ]
B E R
BERLIN, a city of Germany, capital of the electo¬
rate of Brandenburg, and of the whole Prussian domi¬
nions, seated in E. Long. 13. 37. N. Lat. 52. 53. This
city is one of the largest, best built, and best governed,
of any in Germany. The streets are large, straight,
clean, and well paved, and some of them very long and
elegant. There are also several large and beautiful
squares, with pleasant walks. It is surrounded with
handsome gardens, which produce excellent fruit. The
river Spree, that crosses the city, has a communication
with the Havel Oder, and Elbe, which greatly facili¬
tate commerce. The French refugees have greatly con¬
tributed to the embellishment of Berlin, by introducing
various manufactures and arts. It contained 153,000
inhabitants in 1803.
Berlin is divided into five parts, without reckoning
the suburbs, which are very large. The houses in these
last are almost all of wood ; but so well plastered, that
they seem to be of stone. In the suburb called Spandau^
is a house belonging to the royal family, with well con¬
trived apartments, and furnished in a very fine taste. In
the suburb of Stralau is a house and garden belonging to
the king. The royal gate of the city is defended by a
half moon, and two bastions, covered with brick ; it
fronts the royal street, which is one of the longest and
most frequented in the city. It contains very handsome
houses, particularly those belonging to some of the mi¬
nisters of state.
The royal street is crossed by five others, which are
large and fine. On the new bridge, which is of stone,
over the Spree, is an equestrian statue of William the
Great, which is esteemed an excellent piece of work¬
manship. The elector is represented in a Roman ha¬
bit, and his horse stands on a pedestal of white marble
adorned with basso relievos, and four slaves bound to
the base.
After this bridge is past, the king’s palace appears,
which is a grand and superb edifice ; it is four stoi’ies
high, and the apartments are extremely magnificent.
No palace in Europe has such a great quantity of silver
tables, stands, lustres, branched candlesticks, &c. In the
knights hall there is a buffet, which takes up all one
side, where there are basons and cisterns of gilt silver,
of extraordinary magnitude. The furniture of the
great apartment is extremely rich ; and there is a very
handsome gallery, adorned with paintings, representing
the principal actions of Frederick I. Formerly there
were fine gardens to the palace, but they are now
turned into a place of arms. The king’s stables are
large, stand near the palace, and front the great street.
Externally they make a Gothic appearance, but within
they are very magnificent. The mangers are of stone,
and the pillai-s that divide the stalls are of iron, adorned
with the king’s cypher, gilt. Over the racks are pic¬
tures representing the finest horses which the king’s
stud has produced. Over the stables there are large
rooms, containing all sorts of horse furniture, particu¬
larly the horse-equipage of Frederick I. all the metallic
part of which is gold, set with diamonds. Besides
these, there are handsome lodgings for the officers of
the stables. Over the riding-house is a theatre, where
plays have been acted, and balls have been made for
the entertainment of the court,
The arsenal consists of four grand buildings, that
form a court in the middle, like a college : each front
has
Beilin.
B E R [ 576 ] B E R
has three large porticoes. On the principal gate is a
medallion of Frederick II. in bronze; and the four
cardinal virtues, of a colossal stature, placed on pedes¬
tals on each side of the portico, seem to look at the por¬
trait of the king, which is supported by Fame and Vic¬
tory. The Corinthian order is prevalent in the first
stage, and is managed with a great deal of art. The
whole edifice is surrounded in the upper part with a ba¬
lustrade, adorned with trophies and statues, among which
is Mars seated on a heap of several sorts of arms. This
altogether forms a noble and majestic decoration. It is
bounded with iron in the shape of cannon, which are
placed at proper distances, and support iron chains that
hang like festoons, to prevent passengers from approach¬
ing the windows below. The lower rooms are filled
with a great number of brass cannon ; the walls and pil¬
lars which sustain the floor are set off with cuirasses and
helmets. The upper story contains several rooms filled
with arms, which are disposed in a curious order. Be¬
hind the arsenal is the house of the general of the artil¬
lery, which includes the foundery, where they are con¬
tinually at woi'k. Besides this, there are other places
where they keep the train of artillery.
The opera-house is an elegant modern edifice. The
front has a noble portico supported by Corinthian co¬
lumns, and a pediment adorned with basso relievos and
statues. The columns that support the roof throw the
whole into a grand saloon. It has three galleries, and
is said to be capable of containing 2000 persons.
A rampart and fosse separate Worder from Dorothea
Stadt, or the New Town, inhabited chiefly by French.
There are seven great alleys or walks, which divide
this quarter into two parts. The middle walk is broader
than the rest, and is surrounded with balustrades, hav¬
ing a grass-plot in the middle : this is for persons
that take the air on foot. The alleys on each side are
paved, and serve for those that come abroad in coaches.
These alleys, which are about three miles in length,
are terminated with a bar, that leads towards the park.
The alleys with trees are bounded by rows of houses.
In one of these is a building, formerly called the les¬
ser stables, and now made into lodgings for the guards.
The apartments above these are occupied by the aca¬
demy of painting and the academy of arts and scien¬
ces. Behind these is the observatory, where there is
a great number of astronomical and mathematical intru-
ments.
There are other things worthy of observation, such
as the cabinet of medals, and of the antiquities belong¬
ing to the king ; that of natural curiosities ; the che¬
mical laboratory, and its furnaces and medals, of a
new invention : the theatre for anatomical demonstra¬
tions ; the royal library, which is one of the com-
pletest in Germany, and has many scarce books and
manuscripts.
The city was taken in 1760 by an army of Russians,
Austrians, Saxons, &c. who entered on the 9th of
October. They totally destroyed the magazines, ar¬
senals, and founderies, seized an immense quantity of
military stores, and a number of cannon and arms ;
called first for the immediate payment of 800,000
guilders, and then laid on a conti'ibution of 1,900,000
German crowns : not satisfied with this, many irregu¬
larities were committed by the soldiery ; but, on the
whole, though some shocking actions were committed,
a far more exact discipline was observed than from such jery
troops could have been expected upon such an occasion, |{ j
where there was every incentive which could work upon Eemudi
the license of a conquering army. Their officers no '—"“V'"
doubt with great difficulty preserved even that degree
of order.
But though their behaviour was tolerable with regard
to the private inhabitants, there was something shocking
and ungenerous in their treatment of the king’s palaces.
The apartments of the royal castle of Charlottenburg
were entirely plundered, the precious furniture spoiled,
the pictures defaced, without even sparing the antique
statues collected by Cardinal Polignac, which had been
purchased by the house of Brandenburg. The castle
of Schonhausen, belonging to the queen, and that of
Fredericsfeld, belonging to the Margrave Charles, were
also plundered.
The palace of Potsdam, the famous Sans-souci, had a
better fate; Prince Esterhazi commanded there, and it
was preserved from the smallest violation. The prince,
on viewing the palace, only asked which picture of the
king resembled him most; and being informed, desired
that he might have leave to take it, together with two
German flutes which the king used, to keep them, he
said, in memory of his majesty. This was a sort of ta¬
king very different from pillage.
They staid in the city four days: but hearing that
the king, apprehensive of this stroke, was moving to
the relief of his capital, they quitted it on the 13th of
October ; and having wasted the whole country round
for a vast extent, and driven away all the cattle and
horses they could find, retreated by different routes out
of Brandenburg.
Berlin, a sort of vehicle, of the chariot kind ; tak¬
ing its name from the city of Berlin, in Germany: though
some attribute the invention of it to the Italians, and
derive the word from berlina, a name given by them to
a sort of stage, whereon persons are exposed to public
shame. The berlin is a very convenient machine to tra¬
vel in, being lighter, and less apt to be overturned,
than a chariot. The body of it is hung high, on shafts,
by leathern braces ; there being a kind of stirrup, or
footstool, for the conveniency of getting into it: in¬
stead of side-windows, some have screens to let down
in.bad, and draw up in good, weather.
BERME, in Fortification, a space of ground left
at the foot of the rampart, on the side next the coun¬
try, designed to receive the ruins of the rampart, and
prevent their filling up the fosse. It is sometimes pali-
sadoed, for the more security ; and in Holland it is
generally planted with a quickset hedge. It is also
called li%iere, relais, foreland, retrait, pais de souris,
&c.
BERMUDAS, or Summer-islands, a cluster of
small islands in the Atlantic ocean, lying almost in the
form of a shepherd’s crook, in W. Long. 65. N. Lat.
32. 30. between 200 and 300 leagues distant from the
nearest place of the continent of America, or any of
the other West-India islands. The whole number of
the Bermudas islands is said to be about 400, but very
few of them are habitable. The principal is St George’s,
which is not above 16 miles lonw, and three at most in
breadth. It is universally agreed, that the nature ol
this and the other Bermudas islands has undergone a sur¬
prising alteration for the worse since they were first dis¬
covered a
B E R [ 577 ] B E R
rrtuida*. Covered j the air being much more inclement, and the
soil much more barren than formerly. This is ascribed
to the cutting down those fine spreading cedar trees for
which the islands were famous, and which sheltered
them from the blasts of the north wind, at the same
time that it protected the undergrowth of the delicate
plants and herbs. In short, the Summer islands are
now far from being desirable spots ; and their natural
productions are but just sufficient for the support of the
inhabitants, who, chiefly for that reason, perhaps, are
teniperate and lively even to a proVerb. At first tobacco
was raised upon these islands 3 but being of worse qua¬
lity than that growing on the continent, the trade is
now almost at an end. Large quantities of amber¬
gris were also originally found upon the coasts, and
afforded a valuable commerce 3 but that trade is also
reduced, as likewise their whale trade, though the per¬
quisites upon the latter form part of the governor’s re¬
venue, he having 10I. for every whale that is caught.
The Bermudas islands, however, might still produce
some valuable commodities, were they properly cultivat¬
ed. There is here found, about three or four feetffielow
the surface, a white chalk stone which is easily chissel-
ed, and is exported for building gentlemen’s houses in
the West Indies. Their palmetto leaves, if properly
manufactured, might turn to excellent account in mak¬
ing women’s hats ; and their oranges are still valuable*
Their soil is also said to be excellent for the cultivation
of vines, and it has been thought that silk and cochi¬
neal might be produced 3 but none of these things have
yet been attempted. The chief resource of the inha¬
bitants for subsistence is in the remains of their cedar
wood, of which they fabricate small sloops, with the
assistance of the New England pine, and sell many of
them to the Amerigan colonies, where they are much
admired. Their turtle-catching trade is also of ser¬
vice 3 and they are still able to rear great variety of
tame-fowl, and have wild ones abounding in vast plenty.
All the attempts to establish a regular whale fishery on
these, islands have hitherto proved unsuccessful 3 they
have no cattle, and even the black hog breed, which
was probably left by the Spaniards, is greatly decreased.
The water on the islands, except that which falls from
the clouds, is brackish 3 and at present the same diseases
reign there as in the Caribbee islands. They have sel¬
dom any snow, or even much rain : but when it does
fall, it is generally with great violence, and the north
or north-east wind renders the air very cold. The storms
generally come with the new moon 3 and if there is a
halo or circle about it, it is a sure sign of a tempest,
which is generally attended with dreadful thunder and
lightning. The inhabited parts of the Bermudas islands
are divided into nine districts called tribes. 1. St George.
2. H amilton. 3. Ireland. 4. Devonshire. 5. Pem¬
broke. 6. Pagets, 7. Warwick. 8. Southampton*
9. Sandys. There are but two places on the large
island where a ship can safely come near the shore, and
these are so well covered with high rocks that few will
choose to enter in without a pilot; and they are so well
defended by forts, that they have no occasion to dread
an enemy. St George’s town is at the bottom of the
principal haven 3 and is defended by nine forts, on
which are mounted 70 pieces of cannon that command
the entrance. The town has a handsome church, a fine
library, and a noble town-house, where the governor,
Vol* III. Part II. +
council, &c. assemble. Besides these there are about Bemnda*.
IOOC houses well built. The tribes of Southampton ' —'
and Devonshire have each a parish-church and library,
and the former has a harbour of the same name 5 there
are also scattered houses and hamlets over many of the
islands, where particular plantations require them. The
irihabitants are clothed chiefly with British manufac¬
tures, and all their implements for tilling the ground
and building are made in Britain*
It is uncertain who were the first discoverers of the
Bermudas islands* John Bermudas a Spaniard is com¬
monly said to have discovered them in 1527 3 but this
is disputed, and the discovery attributed to Henry May
an Englishman. As the islands were without the reach
of the Indian navigation, the Bermudas were abso¬
lutely uninhabited when first discovered by the Euro*
peans. May above mentioned was shipwrecked upon
St George’s; and with the cedar which they felled
there, assisted by the wreck of their own ship, he and
his companions built another which carried them to
Europe, where they published their accounts of the
islands. When Lord Delaware was governor of Vir¬
ginia, Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George Summers, and
Captain Newport, were appointed to be his deputy-go¬
vernors ; but their ship being -separated by a storm from
the rest of the squadron, was in the year 1609 wrecked
on the Bermudas, and the governors disagreeing among
themselves, built each of them a new ship of the cedar
they found there, in which they severally sailed to Vir¬
ginia. On their arrival there, the colony was in such
distress, that Lord Delaware, upon the report which
his deputy-governors made him of the plenty they
found at the Bermudas, despatched Sir George Sum¬
mers to bring provisions from thence to Virginia in the
same ship which brought him from Bermudas, and which
had not one ounce of iron about it, except one bolt in
the keel. Sir George, after a tedious voyage, at last
reached the place of his destination, where, soon after
his arrival, he died, leaving his name to the islands,
and his orders to the crew to return with black hogs to
the colony of Virginia. This part of his will, how¬
ever, the sailors did not choose to execute ; but setting
sail in their cedar ship for England, landed safely at
Whitechurch in Dorsetshire.
Notwithstanding this dereliction of the island, how¬
ever, it was not without English inhabitants. Two
sailors, Carter and Waters, being apprehensive of
punishment for their crimes, had secreted themselves
from their fellows when Sir George was wrecked upon
the island, and had ever since lived upon the natural
productions of the soil. Upon the second arrival of
Sir George, they enticed one Chard to remain with
them ; but differing about the sovereignty of the island,
Chard and Waters were on the point of cutting one
anothers throats, when they were prevented by the
prudence of Carter. Soon after, they had the good
fortune to find a great piece of ambergris weighing
about 80 pounds, besides other pieces, which in those
days were sufficient, if properly disposed of, to have
made each of them master of a large estate. Where
they were, this ambergris was useless ; and therefore
they came to the desperate resolution of carrying them¬
selves and it in an open boat to Virginia or to New¬
foundland, where they hoped to dispose of their trea¬
sure to advantage. In the mean time, however, the
4 & Virginia
B E R
Bermudas. Virginia Company claimed tlie property of the Ber-
v”-"-' mudas islands ; and accordingly sold it to I 20 persons
of their own society, who obtained a charter from King
James for their possessing it. This New Bermudas Com¬
pany, as it was called, fitted out a ship with 60 planters
on board to settle on the Bermudas, under the com¬
mand of one Mr Richard Moor, by profession a car¬
penter. The new colony arrived upon the island just
at the time the three sailors were about to depart with
their ambergris •, which Moor having discovered, he
immediately seized and disposed of it for the bene¬
fit of the company. So valuable a booty gave vast
spirit to the new company ; and the adventurers set¬
tled themselves upon St George’s island, where they
raised cabins. As to Mr Moor, he was indefatigable
in his duty, and carried on the fortifying and planting
the island with incredible diligence ; for we are told,
that he not only built eight or nine forts or rather
blockhouses, but inured the settlers to martial disci¬
pline. Before the first year of his government was ex¬
pired, Mr Moor received a supply of provisions and
planters from England j and he planned out the town
of St George as it now stands. The fame of this set¬
tlement soon awakened the jealousy of the Spaniards,
who appeared off St George’s with some vessels; but
being fired upon from the forts, they sheered off, though
the English at that time were so ill provided for a de¬
fence, that they had scarcely a single barrel of gunpow¬
der on the island. During Moor’s government the
Bermudas were plagued with rats, which had been im¬
ported into them by the English ships. This vermin
multiplied so fast in St George’s island, that they even
covered the ground, and had nests in the trees. They
destroyed all the fruits and corn within doors ; nay,
they increased to such a degree, that St George’s island
was at last unable to maintain them ; and they swam
over to the neighbouring islands, where they made as
great havock. This calamity lasted five years, though
probably not in the same degree, and at last it ceased
all of a sudden.
On the expiration of Moor’s government, he was
succeeded by Captain Daniel Tucker, who improved all
his predecessor’s schemes for the benefit of the island,
and particularly encouraged the culture of tobacco.
Being a severe disciplinarian, he held all under him so
rigidly to duty, that five of his subjects planned as bold
an enterprise for liberty as was perhaps ever put in exe¬
cution. Their names were Barker, who is said to have
been a gentleman j another Barker, a joiner j Good¬
win, a ship-carpenter ; Pact, a sailor j and Saunders,
who planned the enterprise. Their management was
as artful as their design was bold. Understanding that
the governor was deterred from taking the pleasure of
fishing in an open boat, on account of the dangers at¬
tending it, they proposed to build him one of a parti¬
cular construction, which accordingly they did in a se¬
cret part of the island j but when the governor came to
view his boat, he understood that the builders had put
to sea in it. The intelligence was true : for the adven¬
turers, having provided themselves with a few neces¬
saries they wanted, sailed for England ; and notwith¬
standing the storms they encountered, their being plun¬
dered by a French privateer, and the incredible mise¬
ries they underwent, they landed in 42 days time at
B E R
Corke in Ireland, where they were generously relieved Bermudas
and entertained by the earl of Thomond. " Beni**’
In 1619 Captain Tucker resigned his government
to Captain Butler. By this time the high character
which the Summer islands bore in England rendered
it fashionable for men of the highest rank to encourage
their settlement j and several of the first nobility of
England had purchased plantations among them. Cap¬
tain Butler brought over with him 500 passengers, who
became planters on the islands, and raised a monument
to the' memory of Sir George Summers. The island
was now so populous (for it contained about a thou¬
sand whites), that Captain Butler applied himself to
give it a new constitution of government by introdu¬
cing an assembly, the government till this time being
administered only in the name of the governor and
council. A body of laws are likewise drawn up, as
agreeable to the laws of England as the situation of the
island would admit of. One Mr Barnard succeeded
Captain Butler as governor, but died six weeks after
his arrival on the island j upon which the council made
choice of Mr Harrison to be governor, till a new
one should be appointed. No fewer than 3000 English
were now settled in the Bermudas, and several persons of
distinction had curiosity enough to visit it from England.
Among these was Mr Mailer the poet, a man of for¬
tune, who being embroiled with the parliament and
commonwealth of England, spent some months in the
Summer islands, which he has celebrated in one of his
poems as the most delightful place in the world. The
dangers attending the navigation, and the untowardly
situation of these islands, through their distance from
the American continent, seem to be the reasons why the
Bermudas did not now become the best peopled islands
belonging to England, as we are told that some time
ago they were inhabited by no fewer than 10,000
whites. The inhabitants, however, never showed any
great spirit for commerce, and thus they never could
become rich. This, together with the gradual altera¬
tion of the soil and climate already taken notice of,
soon caused them to dwindle in their population j
and at present the number of white inhabitants is
only 5462, and of blacks 4919. Even these seem
much more inclined to remove to some other place
than to stay where they are ; so that unless some be¬
neficial change take place, the state of the Bermudas
must daily grow worse. The exports in l8lo amount¬
ed to 36,600!.
BERN, one of the cantons of Switzerland, which
holds the second rank among the 13 ; but as it was
formerly by far the largest in extent, containing almost,
one-third of the whole country, it might be considered as
the first. It is bounded to the north by the cantons *of
Basil and Solothurn, and the Austrian forest-towns; to
the south by the lake of Geneva, the Valais, and duchy of
Savoy ; to the east by Uri, Underwald, Lucern, and the
county of Baden ; and to the west by Solothurn,
Neufchatel, Eranche-Compte, the district of Biel, and
the land of Gex. It is the most fruitful, the richest, and
was by much the largest, of all the cantons, extending
in length about sixty leagues, and about thirty where
broadest. It yields not only plenty of grain, fruit, and
pasture ; but also good wine, a 'variety of coloured
earths and clays, sand-stone, mundick, gypsum, pit-
[ 578 ]
2
Bern.
B E R [ 579 ] B E R
coal, sulphur, and iron-ore. Here likewise are large
- herds of cattle, great and small $ and, in consequence
of that, great quantities of milk, butter, and cheese.
The rivers that water this canton are the Aar, the Em-
mat, the Wigger, the Aa, the Rusz, the Limmat,
the Sanen, the Sensen, and the Kandel. The principal
lake is that of Geneva: the length of which is about
18 leagues, and the greatest breadth between three and
four. The depth in some places is near 400 fathoms,
in others not above 40. The Rhone enters it at the
east end, near Bouveret, and issues out again at the
west close by Geneva. In summer its waters are much
swelled by the melting of the snow on the mountains.
This lake, however, is not entirely surrounded by the
territory of Bern, but partly by Savoy and the country
of Gex (the former of which belongs to the king of
Sardinia, and the latter to France), and the territory of
Sion. Its borders are extremely fertile and beautiful,
being much embellished with vineyards, which yield ex-
celleht wine, and interspersed with towns and villages,
betwixt which a considerable commerce is carried on.
The other great lakes, that are wholly or partly within
this canton, are those of Neufchatel, Biel, Murte,
Thun, Brien, and Halwyl, which all abound in fish,
particularly that of Geneva, where trouts are sometimes
caught weighing 40 or 50 pounds. In that of Biel,
called also the Nydau-lake, are two small islands, one
of which is very beautiful. This lake is about three
leagues in length and one in breadth. Along the
whole west and north-west sides of the canton runs that
chain of mountains called by the general name of
Jura ; but the several mountains of which it is com¬
posed have all their particular names. This canton is
yvell cultivated, and very populous, and before it was
dismembered contained 407,000 souls. German is the
prevailing language, but almost all the people of fashion
speak either French or Italian ; even the common peo¬
ple in the Pais de Vaud, and other places that lie to¬
wards France or Italy, speak a corrupt French or Ita¬
lian, or a jargon composed of both. The established
religion here and in the other Protestant cantons is Cal¬
vinism, the same both in doctrine and discipline as in
Holland j nor is any other tolerated, except in the
common bailiages, and the vale of Frick. The mi¬
nisters are divided into deaneries and classes, and bold
yearly chapters or synods. They are kept in a greater
dependence on the civil power here than in the other
cantons, and not suffered to interfere with matters of
state. The city of Bern first joined the confederacy in
the year 1353. Towards the defence thereof the can¬
ton now furnishes 2000 men. Every male from 16
to 60 is enrolled in the militia, and about a third of
them regimented. There are officers, for every district,
whose province it is to see that the men be regularly
exercised; that their arms, ammunition, and clothing,
be in good condition ; and that they be kept in con¬
stant readiness to march. Once a-year they are drawn
out to a general review. The same attention is paid to
those that belong to the train of artillery. Some regi¬
ments consist of married, and some of unmarried men ;
some of foot, others of dragoons. There is also one
regiment and a troop of cuirassiers. The latter consists
entirely of burghers of Bern. Both the horsemen and
tootmen find their horses, arms, and eccoutrements.
Besides the arms and artillery in the arsenal at Bern, all
the castles, where the country governors or bailiffs re- Bern,
side, are well furnished with them. At Bern is a con-y-""
stant guard or garrison of 200 men, and a small gar¬
rison at Fort Arburg. In the same city is also an office,
which grants licenses for levies to foreign powers, and
where the recruits make their appearance and are re¬
gistered. The bailiffs have the chief direction of af¬
fairs in their several districts, being generals of the mi¬
litia, and presiding in the courts of justice ; but, in
civil causes above a certain value, an appeal lies from
them to Bern; and, in capital cases, their sentence must
be confirmed by the great council before it can be exe¬
cuted. When any bailiwick is to be disposed of, as many
balls as there are competitors are put into a bag, whereof
one is gilt, and he that draws that has the bailiwick.
Mr Keysler observes, that the wealthiest peasants in
Switzerland are those of Bern ; it being difficult to
find a village without one, at least, who is worth be¬
tween 20,000 or 30,000 guilders, and sometimes even
60,000. He says, the common people of both sexes
wear straw hats, and that the women’s petticoats are
tied up so near their arm-pits, that hardly an hand’s-
breadth is left for their shape; that the inns, not only-
in this canton but throughout Switzerland, are in ge¬
neral very good ; that the manners of the people were
in many respects, greatly changed within 50 years be¬
fore he visited them, which was about 50 years ago,
and consequently must be much more so now ; that
instead of the plainness and honest simplicity of their
ancestors, the love of superfluities and high living
greatly prevailed ; that luxury, pomp, and that infa¬
tuation for foreign productions which had infected most
parts of Europe, had also extended its contagious in¬
fluence to Switzerland, though not to such a degree
as in many other countries. Dr Burnet says, that
drinking is so common, and produces so many quarrels
and disorders, that the bailiffs not only subsist by the
fines payable for them, but often get estates, carrying
perhaps 20,000 crowns at the end of five years to Bern ;
that their law is short and clear, insomuch that the
most intricate suit is ended after two or perhaps three
hearings, either in the first instance before the bailiff,
or in the second at Bern ; that the civility expressed
in this country to women, at first meeting them, is not
by saluting them, but by shaking them" by the hand,
and that none but strangers take off their hats to them.
Mr Addison says, that the peasants are generally
clothed in a coarse kind of canvas, the manufacture
of the country, and that their holiday-clothes go from
father to son ; so that it is not uncommon to see a coun¬
tryman in his great-grandfather’s doublet and bi ■eeches ;
that the belief of witchcraft prevailed among them so
much, that there were some executions on that account
while he was in the country ; that the question, or tor¬
ture, is used not only in this canton but all over Swit¬
zerland ; that though the subjects of the state are rich,
the public is poor ; and though they could oppose a
sudden invasion, yet they could not spare the reinforce¬
ments and recruits that would be necessary in a long
war. A law passed in 1764, rendering the government
an aristocracy, gave great offence to the people; and
in consequence of this the canton made a feeble defence
when invaded by the French in 1798. A democratic
constitution was then set up, and a part of the canton
was separated from the rest, and the two new cantons
4 D 2 ef
B E R [ 580 ] BEK
Bern, of Aargau and\aucl created out of it. The canton
—v—— again received a small increase in 1815 ; and at pre¬
sent contains 3872 square miles, and 215,000 inhabi¬
tants.
Bern, a city of Switzerland, and capital of the can¬
ton of that name, is situated in E. Long. 7. 40. N.
Lat. 40. o. It is said that the taking of a hear on the
day on which the foundation of this city was laid, gave
occasion to its name ; hence it is often in Latin called
Arctopolis, i. e. the city of the hear, and has a hear
tor its coat ol arms. It is almost surrounded hy the
river Aar. The houses are mostly built of white free¬
stone, and in the principal streets have piaz.zas or
arches under them, for the conveniency of walking dry
in wet weather. Most of the streets are paved with
flints, and traversed by a canal lined with freestone,
which is brought from a considerable distance, and is
very useful in carrying off the filth of the city, extin¬
guishing fires, and other purposes. The city is large,
containing 13,340 inhabitants by the last enumeration j
and it has several churches, of which one is called the
Great Church, and the first minister the dealt, who is
the head of the city clergy. From an inscription near
the great door of this church, it appears, that the first
stone of it was laid in 1421. Over the same door is
a representation of the last judgment, in which the
sculptor hath placed the pope among the damned. In
this city is also a college with eight professors, a large
public library, and a museum ; a stately granary, in
which a great quantity of corn is always kept; a guild-
ball ; a well stored arsenal; and several hospitals. In
the arsenal is a wooden statue of the famous Tell,
which represents him as taking aim at the apple placed
on the head of his son. There is also the statue of
Berchtold von Zahringen, the founder of the city;
and two large horns of buffaloes, or wild bulls, called
in Latin Urt, such as are used in war hy the canton
of Uri, instead of trumpets, and taken from it in
the year 1712. Hard by also hang the grotesque
dresses of those who blew them. The inhabitants of
Uri, who boast their descent from the old Tau, bear a
buffalo’s head on their risci, coat of arms; and the per¬
son who blows the great horn in time of war, is called
the bull of Uri. In the Dominican church, a hole in
the wall is always shown to sti'angers, by means of
which, it having a communication with the cell of a
monk in an adjoining monastery, the pious fraud of
making an image of the Virgin appear to speak was
once carried on, which for a while answered the pur¬
poses of the monks very well; but they were at last de¬
tected and punished. This city, though larger, is not
so populous nor so well built as that of Zurich. On the
east side of it is a handsome stone bridge ; and near the
great church is a very fine platform some hundred feet
in height, which makes a most delightful walk, being
planted with limes, and commanding a charming pro¬
spect, particularly of the mountains of the Grisons, co¬
vered with snow in the midst of summer. In 1654 a
student of divinity, being on horseback, and in liquor,
leaped over this ten-ace without receiving any other
hurt than breaking a leg, and lived many years after;
but the horse was killed. In the upper part of the city
are always kept a number of hears in two enclosures,
with fir trees for them to clamber and play upon. Of
the burghers of Bern, only those are qualified for the
3-
government and magistracy of the city who are the Bem
descendants of such as were made burghers before the Bern M».
year 1635. Other qualifications are also necessary ; chine. ■
in particular, they must not be under 30 years of age, v'-*>
and must be enrolled in one of the 12 companies. To
obtain a country government, or to hold any consider¬
able employment, the candidate must also be married.
rlhe great council, in which the sovereignty of the
canton is vested, consists, when full, of 229 ; but is ge¬
nerally much short of that number, 80 or more often
dying before their places are filled up. The lesser
council senate, or, as it is called, the daily council, be¬
cause it meets every day, Sundays and holidays ex¬
cepted, consists of 27 members, including the two prse-
tors or advoyers, the four tribunes of the people, the
two treasurers, and the two heimlichers, or secrecy-
men, so called, because to them all secrets relating to
the state are discovered. The members of the great
and little councils mutually fill up the vacancies tliat
happen in these two colleges. How the bailiffs are
chosen we have already taken notice. Our limits will
not permit us to enter into any farther detail with re¬
spect to the government: only it is to be observed in
general, that all the officers of any note are chosen out
of the great or little councils; and that all the bailiffs
and castellans of the canton continue six years in office.
The trade of the city is not very great; but was less
before the French refugees settled therein : some, how¬
ever, doubt whether it has been a gainer by them ; as
by their introduction of French modes and luxury, they
have helped to banish the ancient Helvetic simplicity
and frugality. The territory immediately under its ju¬
risdiction is divided into four governments, with which
the four venners, or standard-bearers, are invested. It
declared for the Reformation in 1528, after a solemn
disputation. Here the British envoy to the cantons
resides.
BERN-Machine, the name of an engine for rooting
up trees, invented by Peter Sommer, a native of Bern
in Switzerland.
This machine is represented by a figure on Plate
LXXXVIII. drawn from a model in the machine
room of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts,
&c. It consists of three principal parts; the beam,
the ram, and the lever. The beam ABC, (N° 1.) of
which only one side is seen in the figure, is composed
of two stout planks of oak three inches thick at least,
and separated by two transverse pieces of the same wood
at A and C, about three inches thick. These planks
are bored through with corresponding holes, as repre¬
sented in the figure, to receive iron pins, upon which
the lever acts between the two sides of the beam, and
which is shifted higher and higher as the tree is
raised or rather pushed out of its place. The sides
are well secured at the top and bottom by strong iron
hoops. The iron pins on which the lever rests should
be an inch and a quarter, and the holes through which
they pass an inch and a half in diameter. The po¬
sition of these holes is sufficiently indicated by the
figure. The foot of the beam, when the machine is
in action, is secured by stakes represented at G, dri¬
ven into the earth. The ram D, which is made of
oak, elm, or some other strong wood, is capped with
three strong iron spikes, represented at f, which take
fast hold of the tree. This ram is six or eight inches
square y
B E R [ 581 ] B E R
square *, and a slit is cut lengthwise through the middle
cete. of it, from its lower end at K to the first ferule <7, in
order to allow room for the chain g h to play round the
pulley K, which should be four inches thick, and nine
inches in diameter. This ram is raised by means of the
chain g ht which should be about ten feet long, with
links four inches and three quarters in length, and an
inch thick. One end of this chain is fastened to the
top of the beam at C, while the other, after passing
through the lower part of the ram, and over the pulley
K, terminates in a ring or link represented N° 3. the
two ears m n of which serve to keep it in a true posi¬
tion between the two planks of the beam. In this ring
the hook P is inserted. The hook is represented in
profile, N° 'l. where F is the part that takes hold of
the ring. But it must be observed that the parts of
this machine, represented at N0 2, 3. are drawn on a
scale twice as large as the whole engine. The hook
F, N° 2. should be made of very tough iron, as well as
the handle D, and the arch E c. This handle should
be two inches thick at 2, where it joins to the hook,
and the thickness gradually lessen by degrees up to
the arch, which need not be more than half an inch
thick. On each side of the pin ss, is a semicircular
notch, #, y, which rests alternately on the pins when
the machine is worked. The hole D, and the arch
Ec, serve to fix a long Jever of wood EF, N° 1. by
means of two iron pins ; and by this contrivance the le¬
ver is either raised or depressed at pleasure, in order to
render the working of the machine easy in whatever
part of the beam the lever may be placed : for with¬
out this contrivance the extremity of the lever EF,
would, when the handle is near the top of the beam,
be much higher than men standing upon the ground
could reach. It must however be remembered, that
the lever is often shortened by this contrivance, and con¬
sequently its power lessened.
The machine is worked in the following manner: It
is placed against a tree, in the manner represented in
the figure, so that the iron spikes at /" may have hold
of the tree, and the end of the beam A be supported
by stakes represented at G. The iron handle, N° 2.
is placed in the opening between the two planks of the
beam, and the wooden lever fixed to it by means of
the iron pins already mentioned. The hook F takes
bold of the chain, and one of the iron pins is thrust
into the outer row of holes, by which means the outer
notch x will rest on the pin, which will be now the
centre of motion *, and the end of the lever E, N° 1.
being pressed downwards, the other notch ?/, N° 2.
will be raised, and at the same time the chain, and con¬
sequently the ram. The other iron pin is now to be
thrust into the hole in the inner row, next above that
which was before the centre of motion, and the end of
the lever E elevated or pushed upwards, the latter pin
on which the notch y rests now becoming the centre of
motion. By this alternate motion of the lever, and
shifting the pins, the chain is drawn upwards over the
pulley K, and consequently the whole force of the engine
exerted against the tree. There is a small wheel at L,
in order to lessen the friction of that part of the machine.
From this account the reader will very easily perceive
that the machine is nothing more than a single pulley
Compounded with a lever of the first and second order.
It must however be remembered, that as the push of
the engine is given in an oblique direction, it will exert Bcrn-Ma-
a greater or lesser force against the horizontal roots of chine
the tree in proportion to the angle formed by the ma- H
chine with the plane of the horizon j and that the angle ,
of 450 is the maximum, or that when the machine will
exert its greatest force against the horizontal roots of
the tree.
BERNACLE, a species of goose. See Anas, Or¬
nithology Index.
BERNARD, St, the first abbot of Clairvaux, was
born in the year 1091, in the village of Fountaine, in
Burgundy. He acquired so great a reputation by his
zeal and abilities, that all the affairs of the church ap¬
peared to rest upon his shoulders, and kings and princes
seemed to have chosen him for a general arbitrator of
their differences. It was owing to him that Innocent II.
was acknowledged sovereign pontiff, and after the death
ol Peter Louis anti-pope, that Victor, who had been
named successor, made a voluntary abdication of his dig¬
nity. He convicted Abelard at the council of Sens, in
the year 1140. He opposed the monk Raoul j he per¬
secuted the followers of Arnaud de Bresse ; and, in
1148, he got Gilbert de la Porvice, bishop of Poitiers,
and Eonde I’Etoile, to be condemned in the council of
Rheims. By such zealous behaviour he verified (says
Mr Bayle) the interpretation of his mother’s dream.
She dreamed, when she was with child of him, that she
should bring forth a white dog, whose barking should be
very loud. Being astonished at this dream, she consult¬
ed a monk, who said to her, “ Be of good courage ;
you shall have a son who shall guard the house of God,
and bark loudly against the enemies of the faith.” But
St Bernard went even beyond the prediction, for he
barked sometimes against chimerical enemies : he was
more happy in exterminating the heterodox, than in
ruining the infidels j and yet he attacked these last, not
only with the ordinary arms of his eloquence, but also
with the extraordinary arms of prophecy. He preached
up the crusade under Louis the Younger, and by this
means he enlarged the troops of the crusaders beyond
expression : but all the fine hopes with which he flatter¬
ed the people were disappointed by the event; and
when complaint was made that he had brought an infi¬
nite number of Christians to slaughter without going out
of his own country, he cleared himself by saying that
the sins ot the croises had hindered the effect of his pro¬
phecies. In short, he is said to have founded 160 mo¬
nasteries, and to have wrought a great number of mira¬
cles. He died on the 20th of August 1153, at 63
years ot age. The best edition of his works is that of
1690, by Father Mabillon.
Bernard, Ur Edward, a learned astronomer, lin¬
guist, and critic, was born at Perry St Paul, on the
2d of May, 1638, and educated at Merchant-Tay-
lor’s school, and St John’s college, Oxford. During
his stay at school, he had laid in an uncommon fund of
classical learning 5 so that, on his going to the univer¬
sity, he was a great master of all the elegancies of the
Greek and Latin tongues, and not unacquainted with
the Hebrew. On his settling in the university, he ap¬
plied himself with great diligence to history, philology,
and philosophy ; and made himself master of the He¬
brew, Syriac, Arabic, and Coptic languages, and then
applied himself to the study of the mathematics under
the famous Dr Wallis. Having successively taken the
degrees^
BEE [58
Bernard, degrees of bachelor and master of arts, and afterwards
  V"“~'that of bachelor of divinity in 1668, he went to Ley¬
den to consult several oriental manuscripts left to that
university by Joseph Scaliger and Levinus Warnerus.
At his return to Oxford, he collated and examined the
most valuable manuscripts in the Bodleian library;
which induced those who published any ancient au¬
thors, to apply to him for his observations or emenda¬
tions from the manuscripts at Oxford ; which he rea¬
dily imparted, grudging neither time nor pains to serve
the learned $ and by this means he became engaged in
a very extensive correspondence with the learned of
most countries. In the year 1669, the famous Chri¬
stopher Wren, Savilian professor of astronomy at Ox¬
ford, having been appointed surveyor-general of his ma¬
jesty’s works, and being much detained at London by
this employment, he obtained leave to name a deputy
at Oxford, and pitched upon Mr Bernard, which en¬
gaged the latter in a more particular application to the
study of astronomy. In 1676, he was sent by the earl
of Arlington to France, in order to be tutor to the
dukes of Grafton and Northumberland, sons to King
Charles II. by the duchess of Cleveland, who then
lived with their mother at Paris : but the simplicity of
his manners not suiting the gaiety of the duchess’s fa¬
mily, he returned about a year after to Oxford, and
pursued his studies j in which he made great proficien¬
cy, as his many learned astronomical and critical works
show. He composed tables of the longitudes, lati¬
tudes, right ascensions, &c. of the fixed stars j Obser¬
vations in Latin on the Obliquity of the Ecliptic j and
other pieces inserted in the Philosophical Transactions.
He also wrote, 1. A Treatise of the ancient Weights
and Measures. 2. Chronologice Samaritancz Synopsis, in
two tables. 3. Testimonies of the Ancients concern¬
ing the Greek Version of the Old Testament by the
Seventy ; and several other learned works. He was a
person of great piety, virtue, and humanity, and died on
the 12th of January, 1696, in the 59th year of his age,
leaving behind him a great number of learned and va¬
luable manuscripts.
Bernard, James, pi’ofessor of philosophy and ma¬
thematics, and minister of the Walloon church at Ley¬
den, was born September 1. 1658, at Nipns in Dau-
phine. Having studied at Geneva, he returned to
France in 1679, ant^ was cfi°sen minister of Venterol,
a village in Dauphine. Some time after, he was re¬
moved to the church of Vinsobres in the same province.
But the persecution raised against the Protestants in
France having obliged him to leave his native country,
he retired to Holland, where he was received with
great civility, and was appointed one of the pension¬
ary ministers of Gauda. In July 1688, he began a
political publication entitled llistoire abregee cle l'Eu¬
rope, &c. which he continued monthly till December
1688, and makes five volumes in i2mo. In 1692, he
began his Lettres Historiques, containing an account
of the most important transactions in Europe, with
necessary reflections. He carried on this work, which
was also published monthly, till the end of the year
1698. It was afterwards continued by other hands,
and consists of a great many volumes. Mr Le Clerc
having left off his Bibliotheque Universelle, in 1691,
Mr Bernard wrote the greatest part of the 2oth vo¬
lume, and by himself carried on the five following to
2 ] BEE
the year 1693. In 1698, he collected and published Bcrnarc
Actes et Negotiations de la paix de Ryswic, in four vo- ||
lumes l2mo. In 1699 he began the Nouvelles de la Beniers
republique de lettres, which continued till December
1710. Mr Bernard having acquired great reputation
by his works, as well as by his sermons at Gauda and
the Hague, the congregation of the Walloon church
at Leyden became extremely desirous to have him for
one of their ministers j and a vacancy happening in
1705, he was unanimously chosen. About the same
time, Mr de Voider professor of philosophy and mathe¬
matics at Leyden having resigned, Mr Bernard was
appointed his successor j and the university presented
him with the degrees of doctor of philosophy and ma¬
ster of arts. His public and private lectures took up a
great part of his time ; yet he did not neglect his pasto¬
ral function, but composed his sermons with great care :
he wrote also two excellent treatises, one on a late re¬
pentance, the other on the excellency of religion. In
1716, he published a supplement to Morri’s dictionary
in two volumes folio. The same year he resumed his
Nouvelles de la republique des lettres; which he conti¬
nued till his death, which happened the 27th of April,
1718, in the 60th year of his age.
Bernard, St, the Great; a mountain in Savoy and
Switzerland, between Valais and the valley of Aoust,
at the source of the rivers Dx-ance and Doria. The
top is always covered with snow ; and there is a great
monastery seated thereon, where the monks always
entertain travellers without distinction of religion for
three days.
BERNABDINE, St, was born at Massa in Tus¬
cany, in 1380. In 1404 he entered into a Franciscan
monastery near Sienna, where he became an eminent
preacher; and was afterward sent to Jerusalem, as
commissax-y of the Holy Land. On his return to Italy,
he visited several cities, where he preached with such ap¬
plause, that the cities of Fexrara, Sienna, and Urbino,
desired Pope Eugenius IV. to appoint him their bishop :
but Bernardine refused the honour, accepting only the
office of vicar-general of the friars of the observance for
all Italy. He repaired and founded above 300 mona-
steries in that country; died in 1444; was canonized
in 1450 by Pope Nicholas ; and his works were pub¬
lished at Venice in 1591, in 4 vols. 410.
BERNARDINES, an order of monks, founded by
Robert abbot of Moleme, and reformed by St Bernard.
They wear a white robe, with a black scapulary ; and
when they officiate they are clothed with a large gown,
which is all white, and hath great sleeves, with a hood
of the same colour.—-The Bernardines differ very little
from the Cistercians. They had their origin toward the
beginning of the I 2th century.
BERNAY, a town of Upper Normandy in France,
seated on the river Carantone, in E. Long. o. 50. N.
Lat. 49. 6.
BERNBURG, a town of Germany, in the cir¬
cle of Upper Saxony, and principality of Anhalt,
where a branch of the house of Anhalt resides. It
is seated on the river Sara, in E. Long. 12. 30. N. Lat.
J1- 55* , ,
BERNERA, one of the Western Isles of Scotland,
lying about two leagues to the southward of Harries.
It is about five miles in circumference ; the soil is sandy,
but when manured with the alga marina, extremely
fertile,
B E II [ 583 ] B E R
Bt era fertile, producing an increase of thirty-fold of barley ;
nay, one grain has been known to produce 14 ears when
Beiier. the season was remarkably favourable. The face of the
island is extremely agreeable in summer, exhibiting a
pleasing variety of corn fields anti clover pastures. Here
is a fresh-water lake called Lochbruis, diversified with
small islands, and abounding with eels, which the na¬
tives by the help of lights catch in the night-time, as
they fall down a rivulet towards the sea in heaps twisted
together. There are two chapels in this island dedica¬
ted to St Asaph and St Columbus j and near the former
is a stone standing about eight feet above the ground.
At the east end of this island there is a strange reci¬
procation ol the flux and reflux of the sea, and another
no less remarkable upon the west side of the Long island.
The tides from the south-west run along northward so
that during the ordinary course of the tides the flood
runs east in the frith where Bernera lies, and the ebb
runs west: thus the sea ebbs and flows regularly for
four days before, and as long after, the full and change
of the moon } the spring tides generally rising 14 feet
perpendicular, and the others proportionably : but for
four days before, and as many after, the quarter moons,
there is a singular variation j at that time a southerly
moon making high water, the course of the tide being
eastward, it begins to flow at half an hour after nine ui
the morning, and continues to flow till half an hour af¬
ter three in the afternoon, when it is high water; but
when it begins to ebb, the current still runs eastward,
until it is low water; so that the tide runs eastward 12
hours together, that is, from half past nine in the morn¬
ing till half past nine at night; yet, when the night-
tide begins to flow, the current turns and runs westward
all night for 12 hours, during both flood and ebb : thus
the reciprocations continue, one flood and ebb running
eastward and another westward, till within four days
of the full and change of the moon ; then they resume
their ordinary course, running east during the six hours
of flood, and west during the six hours of ebb. There
is another phenomenon in these tides no less remark¬
able than that just now mentioned. Between the vernal
and autumnal equinox, that is, during one half of the
year, the tides about the quarter moons run all day east¬
ward and all night westward ; and during the other six
months their course is reversed, being westward in the
day and eastward in the night.
BERNICLA, the trivial name of a species of goose.
See Anas, Ornithology Index.
BERNICLE, a species of lepas. See Lepas, Con-
CHOLOGY Index.
BERNIER, Nicholas, an eminent musician and
composer, was born at Mante on the Seine, in the year
1664. By his merit in his profession he attained to be
conductor of the music in the chapel of St Stephen,
and afterwards in that of the king. The regent duke
of Orleans admired his works, and patronized their au¬
thor. This prince having given him a motet of his
own composition to examine, and being impatient for
his observations thereon, went to the house of Bernier,
and entering his study, found the abbe de la Croix
| there criticising his piece, while the musician himself
was in another room carousing and singing with a com¬
pany ol his friends. The duke broke in upon and in¬
terrupted their mirth, with a reprimand of Bernier for
his inattention to the task assigned him. This musician
died at Paris in 1734. His five books of Cantatas and Bernier
Songs for one and two voices, the words of which were jj
written by Rousseau and Fuselier, have procured him Bernoulli,
great reputation. There are besides of his composition ““■-7—-“-'
Les Nuits de Sceaux, and many motets, which are still
in great esteem.
Bernier, Francis, surnamed the Mogul, on account
of his travels and residence in that country, was born
at Angers in France ; and after he had taken his de¬
gree ot doctor of physic at Montpelier, left his country
in 1654, went to Egypt, to the Holy Land, and to the
kingdom of the Mogul, where he was physician to that
monarch, attended him in his journeys, and stayed there
12 years. Upon his return to France, he published
the history of the countries he had visited ; and spent
the remainder of his life in composing various other
works, particularly an Abridgment of the philosophy of
Gassendus in 8 vols 12mo. His first work is esteemed
to be the best account we have of the countries which
are the subject of it.
BERNINI, John Laurence, commonly called Ca¬
valier Bertun, a Neapolitan, famous for his skill in
painting, sculpture, architecture, and mechanics. Fie
first began to be known under the pontificate of Paul V..
Rome is indebted to this artist for some of its greatest
ornaments ; and there are in the church of St Peter no
less than 15 different works of his hand. He died at
Rome in 1680.
BERNO, abbot of Richenou, in the diocese of Con¬
stance, who flourished about the year 1008, is celebra¬
ted as a poet, rhetor, musician, philosopher, and divine.
He was the author of several treatises on music, parti¬
cularly of one De Instrunientis Musicalibus, beginning
with the words Musicam non esse contem ! which he de¬
dicated to Arrabon, archbishop of Mentz. He also
wrote De Mensura Monochordi. But the most celebra¬
ted ot his works is a treatise De Musica seu Tonis,
which he wrote and dedicated to Pelegrines archbishop
of Cologne, beginning Vero mundi isti advence etpere-
gnno. This latter tract is part of the Baliol manu¬
script, and follows the Enchiridion of Odo : it contains
a summary of the doctrines delivered by Boetius, an
explanation of the ecclesiastical tones, intermixed with
frequent exhortations to piety, and the application of
music to religious purposes. He was highly favoured
by the emperor Henry II. for his great learning and
piety ; and succeeded so well in his endeavours to pro¬
mote learning, that his abbey of Richenou was as fa¬
mous in his time as those of St Gal and Cluni, then
the most celebrated in France. He died in 1048;
and was interred in the church of his monastery,
which but a short time before he had dedicated to St
Mark.
BERNOULLI, James, a celebrated mathemati¬
cian, born at Basil the 27th of December 1654. -Ha"
ving taken his degrees in the university of Basil, he
applied himself to divinity, not so much from inclina¬
tion as complaisance to his father. He gave very early
proofs of his genius for mathematics, and soon became
a geometrician, without any assistance from masters,
and at first almost without books : for he ivas not al¬
lowed to have any books of this kind ; and if one fell
by chance into his hands, he was obliged to conceal it,
that he might not incur the reprimands of his father,
who designed him for other studies. This severity made
him
BEK t 584 1 BEK
Bernoulli, him choose for his device, Phseton driving the chariot
of the sun, with these words, Invito patre sidera verso,
“ I traverse the stars against my fathex-’s inclination
This had a particular reference to astronomy, the part
of mathematics to which he at first applied himself.
But the precautions of his father did not avail, for he
pux*sued his favourite study with great application. In
1676 he began his travels. When he was at Geneva}
he fell upon a method to teach a young girl to write,
though she had lost her sight when she was but two
months old. At Bourdeaux he composed universal gno-
monic tables, but they were never published. He re¬
turned from France to his own counti’y in 1680. About
this time there appeai’ed a comet, the return of which
he foretold ; and wrote a small treatise upon it, which
he afterwards translated into Latin. He went soon af¬
ter to Holland, where he applied himself to the study
of the new philosophy* After having visited Flanders
and Brabant, he went to Calais, and passed over from
thence to England. At London he contracted an ac¬
quaintance with all the most etninent men in the sevei-al
sciences j and had the honour of being frequently pre¬
sent at the philosophical societies held at the house of
the famous Mr Boyle. He returned to his native
country in 1682 j and he exhibited at Basil a course of
experiments in natural philosophy and mechanics, which
consisted of a variety of new discoveries. In 1682, he
published his essay of a new system of comets j and the
year following, his dissertation on the weight of air.
Mr Leibnitz, about this time, having published in the
Acta Enulitorvjn at Leipsic some essay of his new Cal¬
culus differentiah's, or infinimens petits, but concealed
the art and method of it ; Mr Bernoulli, and one of
his brothers, discovered, by the little which they saw,
the beauty and extent of it: they endeavoux-ed to un¬
ravel the secret; which they did with such success, that
Mr Leibnitz declared, that the invention belonged to
them as much as to himself. In 1687, the professor¬
ship of mathematics at Basil being vacant, Mr Bernoul¬
li was appointed his successor. He dischai’ged this
trust with universal applause; and his reputation drew
a great number of foreigners from all parts to hear his
lectures. He had an admirable talent in teaching, and
adapting himself to the different genius and capacity
of his scholars. In 1699, he was admitted into the aca¬
demy of sciences at Paris as a foreign member, and in
1701 the same honour was conferred upon him by the
academy of Berlin. He wrote several pieces in the
Acta Eruditorum of Leipsic, the Journal des Spavans,
and the Histoire de /’ Academic des Sciences. His assi¬
duous application to these studies brought upon him the
gout, and by degrees, a slow fevei', of which he died the
16th of August 1705, in the 58th year of his age.—-
Archimedes having found out the proportion of a sphere
to a cylinder circumscribed about it, ordered it to be
engraven upon his monument* In imitation of him Mr
Bernoulli appointed, that a spiral logarithmical curve
should be inscribed upon his tomb, with these words,
Eadem mutata resurgo ; in allusion to the hopes of the
resurrection, which are represented in some measure by
the properties of the curve which he had the honour of
discovering.
Bernoulli, Daniel, a celebrated physician and phi¬
losopher, was born at Groningen, February 9. 1700.
He was intended by his parents for trade, but his
genius led him to different pursuits. He passed some B
time in Italy, and at 24 refused to be president of an g Btroea
academy meant to have been established at Genoa. He't-
spent several years at St Petersburg with great credit j
and in 1733 returned to Basil, where he successively
filled the chair of physic, natural and speculative philo¬
sophy. In his first work, Exercitationcs Mathematicce^
he took the only title he then had, viz. “ Son of John
Bernoulli,” and would never suffer any other to be ad¬
ded to it* This work appeared in Italy with the great
inquisitor’s privilege added to it, and it classed Ber¬
noulli in the rank of inventors. He gained or divided
nine prizes, which were contended for by the most il¬
lustrious mathematicians in Europe, from the academy
of sciences. The only man who has had success of the
same kind is Euler, his countryman, disciple, rival, and
friend. His first prize he gained at 24 years of age.
In 1734 l)e divided one with his father: but this hurt
the family union : for the father construed the contest
itself into a want of respect ; and the son did not suffi¬
ciently conceal that he thought (what was really the
case) his own piece better than his father’s. Besides
this, he declared for Newton, against whom his father
had contended all his life. In 1740, Mr Bernoulli
divided the prize “ On the Tides of the Sea” with
Euler and Maclaurin. The academy at the same time
crowned a fourth piece, whose only merit was that of
being Cartesian •, but this was the last public act of ado¬
ration paid by it to the authority of the author of the
Vortices, which it had obeyed perhaps too long. In
1748, Mr Daniel Bernoulli succeeded his father in the
academy of sciences, and was himself succeeded by his
brother John *, this place, since its first erection, i. e*
84 yeai’S, never having been without a Bernoulli to fill
it. He was extremely respected at Basil j and to bow
to Daniel Bernoulli, when they met him in the streets}
was one of the first lessons which every father gave
his child. He used to tell two little adventures,
which he said had given him more pleasuie than all
the other honours he had received. He was travelling
with a learned stranger, who, being pleased with his
conversation, asked his name : “ 1 an) Daniel Ber¬
noulli,” answered he with great modesty j “ And I,’*
said the sti*anger (who thought he meant to laugh at
him), “ I am Isaac Newton.” Another time he was
giving a dinner to the famous Koenig the mathema¬
tician, who boasted, with a sufficient degree of self-
complacency, of a difficult problem he had resolved with
much trouble. Bernoulli went on doing the honours of
his table ; and, when they went to drink coffee, pre*
sented him with a solution of the problem more elegant
than his own. He died in March 1782.
BEROEA, in Ancient Geography, a noble city of
Macedonia, to the south of Edessa, or Aigae, and south*
east of Cyrtus. The people are commended in Scrip¬
ture for their reception of the Gospel on a fair and im-*
partial examination.—Another Bercea, of Syria (Ste¬
phanos) j called also Bcroe, and by the inhabitants Be*
roea. It was the standing tradition for some ages, that
it is the modern Aleppo j called Chalep in Nicetas, Ni*
cephorus, and Zonaras; from which it is supposed the
present appellation Aleppo is derived \ distant 90 miles
from the Levant sea and the port of Scanderoon, and
about 100 miles west of the Euphrates. E. Long. 36.
Q. N. Lat. 36. 30.
BEROOT,
B . E R [ 585 1 BEE
.{j,ootj BEROOT, or Bairout, a town of Phoenicia, a
jjosus. province of Syria, in Turkey in Asia. It is the ancient
Berytus ; but there are now no remains of its former
beauty, except its situation. It stands in a plain, which
from the foot of Lebanon runs out into the sea, nar¬
rowing to a point, about two leagues from the ordi¬
nary line of the shore, and on the north side forms a
pretty long road, which receives the river of Nahr-el-
Salib, called also Nahr-Bairout. This river has such
frequent floods in winter, as to have occasioned the
building of a considerable bridge ; but it is in so ruin¬
ous a state as to be impassable. The bottom of the
road is rock, which chafes the cables, and renders it
very insecure. From lienee, as we proceed westward
towards the point, we reach, after an hour’s journey,
the town of Beroot. This belonged to the Druzes,
till lately that it was taken from them, and a Turkish
garrison placed in it. Still however it continues to be
the emporium of the Maronites and the Druzes,
Avbence they export their cottons and silks, almost all of
which are destined for Cairo. In return, they receive
rice, tobacco, coffee, and specie, which they exchange
again for the corn of the Bekaa and the Hauran. This
commerce maintains near 6000 or 8000 persons. The
dialect of the inhabitants is justly censured as the most
corrupt of any in the country : it unites in itself the 12
faults enumerated by the Arabian grammarians.—The
port of Beroot, formed like all the others on the coast
by a pier, is like them choked up with sand and ruins.
The town is surrounded by a wall, the soft and sandy
stone of which may be pierced by a cannon ball with¬
out breaking or crumbling j which was unfavourable
to the Russians in their attack: but in other respects
this wall, and its old towers, are defenceless. Two
inconveniences will prevent Beroot from ever becoming
a place of strength ; for it is commanded by a chain of
hills to the south-east, and is entirely destitute of wa¬
ter, which the women are obliged to fetch from a well
at the distance of half a quarter of a league, though
what they find there is but indifferent. By digging
in order to form reservoirs, subterraneous ruins have
been discovered ; from which it appears, that the mo¬
dern town is built on the ancient one. The same may
he observed of Latakia, Antioch, Tripoli, Saide, and
the greater part of the towns on the coast j which has
been occasioned by earthquakes that have destroyed
them at different periods. We find likewise, without
the Avails to the Avest, heaps of rubbish, and some shafts
of columns, which indicate that Beroot has been for¬
merly much larger than at presents The plain around
it is entirely planted Avith white mulberry trees, Avhich
are young and flourishing j by which means the silk
produced here is of the very finest quality. In descend¬
ing from the mountains (says M. Volney), no prospect
can be more delightful than to behold, from their sum¬
mits or declivities, the rich carpet of verdure formed
by the tops of these useful trees in the distant bottom of
the valley. In summer, it is inconvenient to reside at
Beroot on account of the heat and the Avarmth of the
water: the town, however, is not unhealthy, though
it is said to have been so formerly. It has ceased to be
unhealthy since the Emir Fakr-el-din planted the Avood
of fir trees, which is still standing a league to the south-
Avard of the town. E. Long. 35. 38. N. Lat. 34. 18.
BEROSUS, priest of the temple of Belus at Baby-
Vol. III. Part II. +
Ion, in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus, wrote the Hi- b.tosus
story of Chaldea, which is often cited by the ancients, j|
and of which Josephus gives some curious fragments. Bernnian.
The Athenians, according to Pliny, caused his statue, v~“
with a golden tongue, to be placed in their Gymnasium.
BERRE, a town of France, in the department of
the Mouths of the Rhone, seated on a lake of the same
name. It contains 1800 inhabitants, and is remark¬
able for the quantity and goodness of the salt that is
made there. E. Long. 4. 32. N. Lat. 43. 32.
BERRETINI da Cortona, Pietro, painter of
history and landscape, was born at Crotona in 1596 ;
and, according to some writers, was a disciple of An¬
drea Commodi j though others affirm that he Avas the
disciple of Baccio Ciarpi, and the author of the Abrege
says he was successively the disciple of both : but he is
alloAved to have been as great and as enlarged a genius
as any of his profession, and to have painted more
agreeably than most of the artists who Avere his eotem-
poraries. He went young to Rome, and applied him¬
self diligently to study the antiques, the works of Ra¬
phael, Buonaroti, and Polidoro ; by which he so im¬
proved his taste and his hand, that he distinguished
himself in a degree superior to any of the artists of his
time. He worked with remarkable ease and freedom •,
his figures are admirably grouped j his distribution is
truly elegant; the chiaro-scuro is judiciously observed ;
and through his whole compositions there appears un¬
common grace : but De Piles observes, that it was not
such a grace as was the portion of Raphael and Corre-
gio 5 but a general grace, consisting rather in a habit
of making the airs of his head always agreeable, than
in a choice of expressions suitable to each subject. In
his large compositions, the colouring had a good effect;
but his colouring in fresco is far superior to what he per¬
formed in oil : nor do his easel pictures appear so finish¬
ed as might be expected from so great a master, Avhen
compared with what he painted in a larger size. By
the best judges it seems to be agreed, that although this
master Avas frequently incorrect j though not always ju¬
dicious in his expressions; though irregular in his dra¬
peries, and apt to design his figures too short and too
heavy ; yet, by the magnificence of his composition,
the delicate airs of his figures, the grandeur of his de¬
corations, and the astonishing beauty and gracefulness
of the Avhole together, he must be allowed to have been
the most agreeable mannerist that any age hath produ¬
ced.—He died in 1669. Some of his most capital works
are in the Barberini palace at Rome, and the Palazzo
Pitti at Florence.
BERRETONI, Nicolo, history-painter, was born
at Macerata in 1617, and was a disciple of Carlo Ma-
I’atti, with whom he studied design and colouring for
some years; and attained such excellence, that he ex¬
cited even the jealousy and envy of his master, who
seemed to be apprehensive of finding- a poAA’erful compe¬
titor and rival in his pupil.—His early works, after he
quitted the school of Maratti, Avere in the style and taste
of Guido ; and they could not possibly have a more high
encomium or recommendation. He died in 1682.
BERRIMAN, Dr William, Avas the son of Mr
John Berriman apothecary in Bishopsgate-street, Lon¬
don, Avhere he Avas born in 1688. He studied at
Oriel college, Oxford, where he took his several de¬
grees, and became curate and lecturer of All-halloAv^
4 E in
BEK [ 586 ] BE K
Berriman, in Thames-street, and lecturer of St Michael’s Queen-
Keny. hithe. In 1720, he was appointed domestic chaplain to
' v Dr Robinson bishop of London, who soon after collated
him to the living of St Andrew’s Undershaft} and in
1727, he was elected fellow of Eton college. He died
in 1750, in the 62d year of his age. He wrote, 1. A
seasonable Review of Mr Whiston’s Account of Pri¬
mitive Doxologies. 2. A Historical Account of the
Trinitarian Controversy, in eight sermons, at Lady
Moyer’s lecture. 3. Brief Remarks on Mr Chandler’s
Introduction to the History of the Inquisition. 4. Ser¬
mons at Boyle’s lectures, 2 vols 8vo. 5. Christian Doc¬
trines and Duties explained and recommended, in 2 vols.
8vo ; and other works.
BERRY. See Bacca.
Berry, a province of France, which had the title of
a duchy. It now forms the two departments of Cher
and Indre 5 and is bounded on the north by Salome,
on the south by Marche, on the east by Nivernois
and Bourbonnois, and on the west by Touraine. It
is 96 miles in length from north to south, and 73 in
breadth from east to west. The air is very temperate j
and the soil produces wheat, rye, and wine little in¬
ferior to Burgundy } that of Sancerre, St Satur, and
Lavernusse, is the best. The fruits are in plenty, and
pretty good. The pastures are proper to fatten sheep.
This country produces also a good deal of hemp and
flax. There are mines of iron and silver, but they are
neglected. The stone quarries, within halt a league ot
Bourges, are very serviceable. In the parish of St Hi-
lare there is a mine of ochre, made use of in melting
metals and for painting. Near Bourges there is a cold
mineral spring, which has a clammy fat pellicle over it
every morning, of different colours. It lets fall a fine
black smooth sediment, which lias the same smell, and
almost the same taste, as gunpowder, which makes some
conclude it partakes of sulphur, vitriol, and ochre.
The pellicle is as thick as a crown piece ; and when
put on a red-hot fire-shovel, will bounce and sparkle,
as will also the sediment. It is certain there is salt¬
petre in these waters, though vitriol seems to be the
most predominant. These waters, drank on the spot,
temperate the heat of the blood and humours, open
obstructions, and strengthen the fibres. Berry is water¬
ed by several rivers*, the principal of which are the Loire,
the Creuse, the Cher, the Indre, the Orron, the Evre, the
Aurette, the Maulon, the Great and Little Saudre, the
Nerre, &c. Near Liniers, there is a lake 20 miles
round. Berry is divided into the Upper and the Low¬
er, and Bourges is the capital city. The inhabitants
of Bourges carry on a small trade with corn down the
Loire j but that of the wine above mentioned is much
more considerable, it being transported to Paris by
means of that river and the canal of Briare. But the
principal commerce consists in the fat cattle which they
send to Paris, and the great number of sheep*, these last
bear fine wool, which is used in the manufactures of
this province and other parts of the kingdom. There
are two sorts of manufactures in Berry 5 the one for
cloths and serges, and the other for knit and wove
stockings. There is likewise a great quantity of hemp,
which is transported elsewhere ; for they have not yet
got the ait of manufacturing it themselves. At Au-
bigny there are 2000 persons generally employed in
the making of cloth.
2
BERSABE, in Ancient Geography, a town in the Beri;alje
tribe of Simeon (Joshua) ; the south boundary not only |j
of its own tribe but of the whole land of Israel, as ap- Berwick,
pears from the common expression “ from Dan to Ber- '''’■"V'*’'
sabein our translation it is Beersheba. It was the
residence of the patriarchs $ as first of Abraham, from
whom it took its name, and of Isaac. It signifies the
well or fountain of the oath 5 dug by Abraham, and
claimed as his property by covenant and the religion
of an oath, against the insults of the Philistines. Eu¬
sebius and Jerome say, that there was a citadel and
large village of that name in their time. It was called
Beersheba of Judah in x Kings xix. 3. not to distinguish
it from the Beer-sheba of Galilee, which probably did
not then exist, but to ascertain the limits of the kingdom
of Judah. In the lower age called Castrum Versabini.
BERSARII, in writers of the middle age, a kind
of hunters, or sportsmen, who pursued wild beasts in
forests and chases. The word seems derived from the
barbarous Latin bersare, “ to shoot with a bow j” on
which principle it should properly denote archers on¬
ly, or bowmen. Or it might be derived from bersa,
“ the fence or pales of a park *,” in which view, it
should primarily import those who hunt or poach in
parks or forests.
Hincmar speaks of a kind of inferior officers in the
court of Charlemagne, under the denomination of ber-
sarii, veltrarii, and beverarii. Spelman takes the first
to denote those who hunted the wolfj the second, those
who had the superintendency of the hounds lor that
use *, and the third, those who hunted the beaver.
BERSELLO, a fortified town of Italy in the Mo¬
denese. It w7as taken by Prince Eugene in 1702; and
by the French in 1703, who were obliged to abandon it
in 1707. It is seated near the confluence of the rivers
Linza and Po, in E. Long. 10. 30. N. Lat. 44. 55.
BERSUIRE, a town of France in the department
of the two Sevres. W. Long. o. 27. N. Lat. 46. 52.
BERTHGUD Ferdinand, an eminent French
chronometer maker. See Supplement.
BERT1NER0, a town of Romagna in Italy, with
a strong citadel. It is the see of a bishop} and is seated
on a hill, in E. Long. II. 47. N. Lat. 44. 8.
BERTRAND, St, a town of France in the depart¬
ment of Upper Garonne. E. Long.o. 38. N. Lat. 43. 2.
BERYY, a sea-port and royal burgh in the coun¬
ty of Mearns in Scotland. Population 927 in 1811.
W. Long. 2. O. N. Lat'. 56. 40.
BERWICK, THE Duke of, was natural son of
James II. by Mrs Arabella Churchill, sister to the great
duke of Marlborough. He followed the fate ol his
father, and came into France after the revolution with
James II. Here the duke of Berwick was recommend¬
ed to the court by his superior merit. He was created
marshal of France, knight ot the Holy Ghost, duke
and peer of France, grandee of Spain, commander in
chief of the French armies *, in all which stations his
behaviour was such, that few equalled, perhaps none
surpassed him. He lived in an age when the renowned
prince of Orange and many other of the greatest men
commanded against him. His courage was ol the cool
steady kind; always possessing himself; takingall advan¬
tages; not foolishly, rashly, or wantonly throwing away
the lives of his soldiers. He kept up on all occasions the
most strict discipline ; and did not spare punishment
among
B E R [ ■ 587 ] B E R
Irk, among his soldiers for marauding and other crimes,
when properly deserved ", for which some inconsiderate
■ people have blamed him. He has been reflected upon,
by the very zealous and violent adherents of the Stuart
family, for not being sufficiently attached to that party,
which was his own family. But by a cool examination
of his actions, it will appear, that his behaviour in this
particular was, as in most parts of his life, sensible and
just. When he accepted of employments, received ho¬
nours, dignities, and became a naturalized Frenchman,
he thought it his duty, as an honest man, to become a
Frenchman, and a real subject to the monarch who
gave him bread; and to be, or not to be, in the interest
of the Stuart family, according to the will and com¬
mands of the sovereign whom he served, and in the in¬
terest of France according to time and circumstances;
for there is no serving two masters well. But when
ordered by his king to be in that family’s interest,
he acted with the greatest sincerity ; and took the
most effectual and sensible methods to serve that un¬
happy house, as the following anecdote, if true, and it
has great appearance of probability on its side, proves.
The duke of Marlborough, after the signing of the
treaty of Utrecht, was censured by the British parlia¬
ment for some of the army contracts in relation to
bread and forage ; upon which he retired into France:
and it was then credibly asserted, the duke of Marlbo¬
rough was brought over to the interest of the Stuart
family; for it is now past a doubt,* that Queen Anne had
a very serious intention of having her brother upon the
throne of England after her death : and several circum¬
stances, as well as the time of that duke’s landing in
England, make many people believe he was gained
over to the Stuart party. If the duke of Berwick was,
directly or indirectly, the means of gaining his uncle
over to that interest, he more effectually served it, than
that rash mock army of unhappy gentlemen who were
taken prisoners at Preston in 1715 had it in their power
to do. In a word, the duke of Berwick was, without
being a bigot, a moral and religious man ; and showed
by his life and actions, that morality and religion are
very compatible and consistent with the life of a states¬
man and a great general; and if they were oftener
united in these two professions, it would be much hap¬
pier for the rest of mankind. He was killed by a can¬
non-ball at the siege of Philipsburg in 1738.
Berwick, a county of Scotland ; bounded by the
river Tweed on the south ; by East Lothian on the
north ; by the German ocean on the east ; and on the
west by the counties of Roxburgh, Peebles and Mid-
Lothian. Its extent in length may be stated at 34
miles, and its breadth 19. This county is nominally
divided into three districts, viz. Lauderdale, Lammer-
muir, and Merse or March. The first is that opening
or valley in the Lammermuir hills, through which the
river Leader runs. Lammermuir comprehends the
ridge of hills which separate this county from East-
Lothian, extending from the head of Leader water to
the sea, below the town of Berwick. The Merse or
March includes that fertile and populous plain, stretch¬
ing from the hills, along the banks of the Tweed.
Berwickshire contains one royal borough, viz. Lauder,
and several large towns and villages, as punse, Cold¬
stream, Coldingham, Ayton, and Eyemouth. The
chief rivers are the Tweed, the Leader, the Eye, the
Whittadder, and Blackadder. The two roads to Lon¬
don pass through the county. In the Merse the state
of agriculture is excellent ; and, though so late as 60
years ago, the greater part was barren and uncultivated,
it is now mostly enclosed and improved. 1 he county
of Berwick exports from the ports ol Berwick and
Eyemouth, above 80,000 bolls of victual; and the
same quantity is annually carried to the weekly markets
of Edinburgh, Dalkeith, Haddington, and Dunbar.
There is plenty of marl in the county ; but the farmers
prefer lime as the most profitable, though at the dis¬
tance of 18 or 20 miles. The minerals in this dis¬
trict hitherto discovered, are few, and these are by no
means valuable. Coal has been found only in small
quantities near Eyemouth. There is plenty of free¬
stone fit for building, and both rock and shell marl
are found in different places. Copper has been wrought
in the neighbourhood of Lauder ; and some years ago,
a mine of the same metal was discovered in the parish of
Buncle. The parish ofMordington contains ironstone,
but of too small value to render it an object of manufac¬
ture. The rocks which compose the Lammermuir hills,
are chiefly schistus, with alternate strataof sandstone. A t
Eyemouth is a rock of the species called puddingstone,
in the pieces of which it is not uncommon to find frag¬
ments of porphyry, granite, and even limestone. Near
the Whittadder, in the parish of Chirnside, is a species
of gypsum, which has been of great use as a manure.
The celebrated mineral well, called Dunse Spa, which
is somewhat similar to Tunbridge, is situated about a
mile from the town of Dunse. The rivers contain
trout, and salmon ; of which last a great quantity is
annually exported from Berwick to London. From
the situation of this county, on the border of England,
it was necessary that it should be strongly fortified;
accordingly, there are numerous strong castles and for¬
tified places in almost every parish in the county. The
following is the population of the county of Berwick
according to the parishes, taken at two periods, from
the Statistical History of Scotland.
Parishes.
I Abbey
Ay ton
Buncle
Channelkirk
5 Chirnside
Cockburnspath
Coldinghani
Cranshaws
Dunse
10 Earlston
Eccles
Edrom
Eyemouth
Fogo
15 Fouldean
Gordon
Greenlaw
Home
Hutton
20 Ladykirk
Langton
Lauder
4 E 2
Population Population
in 1755. in 1790—98.
80 164
191 I245
691 622
531 600
383 961
9l9 883
2313 2391
214 164
2593 3324
1197 I35l
1489 1780
898 1336
1792 1000
566 450
465 344
737 912
895 1210
959 1000
751 920
386 590
290 435
?795 2000
Lennel
Berwick.
B E
R
[ 588 ] B E S
Parishes.
Lennel
Litgertwood
25 Longformacus
Mertoun
Mordington
Nenthorn
Pol wart h
30 Swinton
Westrutlier
32 Whitsome
Population
in 11SS-
J493
398
399
502
181
497
25i
494
591
399
24946
Population in 1811
Scc-Berwickshire, Supplement.
Population in
i79c—i79S.
2521
422
452
557
335
400
288
898
73°
59°
3^875
3°,779
Berwick, North, a roval borough, and sea-port in
the county ot East Lothian in Scotland, containing 700
inhabitants. W. Long. 2. 29. N. Lat. 55. 56.
B r;n wick- upon - Twee d, is a town on the border of
England, and Scotland, and a county of itself. It stands
on the north or theScotish side of the river Tweed 5 and
is pleasantly situated on an easy declivity, almost close to
the sea. It has a ditch on the north and east ; but on
the south and west it has high walls, regularly fortified,
and planted with cannon, and to which the river serves
as a moat. The houses are generally well built j and
the town-house is a handsome structure, with a lofty
turret, in which are eight bells, and a fine clock which
tells the quarters, with four dials, one on each side the
square. The church is a neat building, but has no
bells. The bridge is 947 feet long, and is supported
by fifteen arches. The barracks form a large regular
square, and will hold two regiments of foot very con¬
veniently. The town is governed by a mayor, recor¬
der, town-clerk, and four baihils j and has a coroner,
a treasurer, four serjeants at mace, and a water bailiff.
It had a strong castle, which now lies quite in ruins.
It has a market on Saturdays, extremely well supplied 5
and a fair on Friday in Trinity-week for black cattle
and horses. Corn and eggs are shipped from hence for
London and other ports ; but the principal trade is
the salmon which are caught in the Tweed, and rec¬
koned to be as good as any in the kingdom. Some are
sent alive, and some pickled in kits by persons who sub¬
sist on that employment, and are called salmon coopers.
A new pier was begun for the harbour in 1811.
Though this town is not admitted to be either in Eng¬
land or Scotland, the English judges hold assizes here j
and it is subject to the bishop of Durham. It sends
two members to parliament. Population 7746 in 1811.
W. Long. 1. 35. N. Lat. 55. 58.
BERY, or Bury, the villa or seat of habitation of a
nobleman, a dwelling or mansion-house, being the chief
of a manor : from the Saxon beorg, which signifies a
hillov castle; for heretofore noblemen’s seats were castles
situated on hills, of which we have still some remains ;
as in Herefordshire there are the beries of Stockton,
Hope, &c. It was anciently taken for a sanctuary.
Bert. See Beria.
BERYL, in Natural History, called by our lapida¬
ries aqua marina, is a pellucid gem of a bluish green
colour, found in the East Indies and about the gold
3
mines of Peru: we have also some from Silesia, but « f
what are brought from thence are oftener coloured crys- p
tals than real beryls ; and when they are genuine, they Besancon.
are greatly inferior both in hardness and lustre to the
oriental and Peruvian kinds.
The beryl, like most other gems, is met with both in
the pebble and columnar form, but in the latter most
frequently. In the pebble form it usually appears of a
roundish but flatted figure, and commonly full of small
flat faces, irregularly disposed. In the columnar or
crystalline form it always consists of hexangular co¬
lumns, terminated by hexangular pyramids. It never
receives any admixture of colour into it, nor loses the
blue and green, but has its genuine tinge in the degrees
from a very deep and dusky to the palest imaginable of
the hue of sea-water.
The beryl, in its perfect state, approaches to the
hardness of the garnet, but is often softer ; and its
size is from that of a small tare, to that of a pea, a
horse-bean, or even a walnut. It may be imitated by
adding . to 20 pounds of crystal-glass made without
magnesia, six ounces of calcined brass or copper, and
a quarter of an ounce of prepared zaft’re.—The pro¬
perties of the beryl were very wonderful in the opinion
of the ancient naturalists ; it kept people from falling
into ambuscades of enemies, excited courage in the
fearful, and cured diseases of the eyes and stomach. It
does none of these things now ; because people are not
simple enough to believe it has the virtue to do them.
Beryl-Crystal, in Natural History, a species of what
Dr Hill calls ellipomacrostyla, or imperfect crystals, is
of an extremely pure, clear, and equal texture, and
scarce ever subject to the slightest films or blemishes.
It is ever constant to the peculiarity of its figure, which
is that of a long and slender column, remarkably ta¬
pering towards the top, and very irregularly hexangu¬
lar. It is of a very fine transparence, and naturally of
a pale brown, and carries such evident marks of di¬
stinction from all brown crystals, that our lapidaries call
it, by way of eminence, the beryl crystal, or simply the
beryl.
BERYTUS, in Ancient Geography, a sea-port town
of Phoenicia on the Mediterranean, so ancient as to be
thought to have been built by Saturn. It was destroy¬
ed by Tryphon, but rebuilt by the Romans. Agrippa
placed here two legions, whence it became a colony.
It enjoyed the jus Italicum, and had an excellent school
for the study of the law in Justinian’s time. Now Be-
ROOT *, which see.
BES, or Bessis, in Roman antiquity, two-thirds of
the as. See As.
Bes also denotes two-thirds of the jugerum. See
Jugerum.
BESAILE, signifies the father of a grandfather.
Besaile, in Law, a writ that lies where the great¬
grandfather was seized in fee of any lands, &c. at
the time of his death : and after his decease a stran¬
ger enters thereon, the same day, and keeps out the
heir.
BESANCON, a city of France, capital of the
Franche Compte, now the department of Doubs. It
is one of the most ancient cities ot Europe, was former¬
ly the see of an archbishop, and had a parliament as
well as a university. It is seated on the river Dreux,
which
B E S [ 589 ] B E S
Bjmcon which divides it into two parts, the greatest of which
)| is a peninsula. The entrance is shut up by a mountain,
Blistan. on wIiich they have built a large citadel, which com-
mands all the city. There are many names of places
in and about the city, that are plainly corruptions of
the Latin, and are marks of its antiquity, aS Chamars,
Campus Mortis; Chamuse, Campus Musaruni; Chan-
dane, Campus Diance, &c. The metropolitan church
is built at the bottom of St Stephen’s hill J and is a
very handsome structure with a high tower steeple.
The great altar is placed in the middle choir, where on
high days they expose reliques in silver shrines, enrich¬
ed with gold and jewels. There are several tombs
and other things remarkable in the churches j and
after you have past the church of Notre Dame, and
the square that it looks into, you come to a triumphal
arch, erected in honour of the emperor Aurelian, on
which are several figures of men and animals, pretty
entire. It serves as a gate to the cloister of St John
the Great. The great hospital of the order of the Holy
Ghost is a structure worth seeing. The streets are wide
and handsome ; and the houses are well built with free¬
stone, and covered with slate, chiefly about the square
called Rattan, which is adorned with a fountain, the
water of which proceeds from a statue of Bacchus. The
river Dreux is passed over by a stone bridge. The
market-place is at the entrance $ and on the left is an¬
other square, adorned with a fountain, where the great
street begins. The new square is not far from this
street, from whence you go to the town-house, which is
a large structure with four wings, before the front of
which is the statue of Charles V. in bronze, with a
globe in one hand and a sword in the other. The im¬
perial eagle is raised over a large bason, and spouts out
water by both his beaks \ and there is also a fountain
adorned with the figure of a naked woman, with water
springing out at her nipples. The university, which
was dissolved at the revolution, was re-established as a
lyceum and college in 1801. The population in 18x5
was 28,200. E. Long. 6. 10. N. Lat. 47. 26.
BESANT, or Bezant, a coin of pure gold, of an
uncertain value, struck at Byzantium, in the time of
the Christian emperors ; from hence the gold offered by
the king at the altar is called besant or bisant.
BESANTED, or Bezanted. This word means
full of besants and is used to denote a field, ordinary,
or charge, covered with above eight besants *, for if
I there be but eight or fewer, their number must be par¬
ticularly mentioned.
BESELEEL and Ooliah, architects, sculptors,
and painters, supposed to have made all the ornaments
in brass, silver, &c. of the first tabernacle in the wil¬
derness, 1490 B. C.
BESIERS, or Beziers, an ancient town of France,
in Lower Languedoc, now the department of Herault,
formerly a bishop’s see, and containing 12,500 inhabi¬
tants in 1815. it has a delightful situation ; and the
country in which it stands is fertile in corn and oil,
and produces excellent wine. It is seated on a hill
near the river Orbe, in E. Long. q. 23. N. Lat. 43. 21.
BESISTAN, or Berstein : T hus, at Constantino¬
ple, Adrianople, and in some other towns within the
Grand Signior’s dominions, they call those places where
the merchants have their shops, and expose their mer¬
chandises to sale. Each sort of merchants have their
particular besistan, which must also be understood of
the workmen, all those of the same trade working in
the same place. These besistans are commonly large
galleries, vaulted over, whose gates are shut every night.
Sometimes the wardens and keepers of the besistans will
answer for the merchandises, on paying them a very mo¬
derate perquisite for every shop.
BESLERTA. See Botany Index.
BESORCH, a coin of tin, or some alloyed metal,
current at Ormus at the rate of ^ parts of a farthing
sterling.
BESOZZI, or Bezutius, Ambrogio, a painter of
considerable eminence, was born at Milan in 1648.
He worked some time under Gioseffo Danedi, called
Montalti: he afterwards went to Rome, where he stu¬
died from the antiques and the pictures of the greatest
masters j and at last perfected himself in the school of
Giro Ferri. His great excellency consisted in painting
ai'chitecture, friezes, imitations of bass-relieves, and
other decorations. He died at Milan in 1706, aged
58 years.
BESSARABIA, a territory lying between Molda¬
via, the Danube, and the Black'sea, formerly belong¬
ing to Turkey, but ceded by that power to Russia in
1812. It is inhabited chiefly by Tartars, who main¬
tain themselves by their cattle and husbandry. Their
religion, manners, and customs, are the same with those
of the Crim Tartars. The whole country contains about
8800 square miles, is level and fertile, but the inhabi¬
tants apply more to grazing than tillage. Although a
number of small rivers traverse the country, both water
and wood are scarce.
BESSARION, titular patriarch of Constantinople
and archbishop of Nice, and one of those illustrious
persons who contributed to the resurrection of letters
in the 15th century, was born at Trebisond. He was
very zealous to reunite tbe Greek with the Latin
church, and engaged the emperor John Paleologus to
interest himself in bringing this greRt work about. He
passed into Italy, appeared at the council of Florence,
harangued the fathers, and made himself admired as
well by his modesty as by his uncommon abilities. The
Greek schismatics conceived so great an aversion to
him, that he was obliged to remain in Italy ; where
Pope Eugenius [V. honoured him with the purple in
1439. He fixed his abode at Rome, and would have
been raised to the papal chair, if Cardinal Alain had
not opposed it, as injurious to the Latin church, to
choose a Greek however illustrious. He was employed
in several embassies, but that to France proved fatal
to him. When legate at this court, he happened to
visit the duke of Burgundy, before he saw Louis XI.
which so displeased the capricious haughty monarch,
as to occasion him a very ungracious reception. Nay,
the king even took the cardinal legate by his most
magnificent beard, saying in his fine Latin, Barbara
Grceca genus retinent quod habere solebant: and this
affront so chagrined the cardinal, as to occasion his
death at Ravenna upon bis return in 1472. This at
least is what Matthieu relates in his History of Louis
XI. Bessarion loved the literati, and protected them.
Argyropilus, Theodore of Gaza, Poggius, Laurentins
Valla, &c. formed in his house a kind of academy. His
library was large and curious ; and the senate of Ve¬
nice, to whom he gave it, preserve it to this day with
attention
BET [ 590 ] BET
Bessarion attention anrl regard. He left some works, which rank
among those that helped to revive letters ; as, Defensio
1 * ele* . Doctrinee Platonicce, &c. ; Translations of some Pieces
of Aristotle 5 Orations ; Epistles, &c,
B ESSIC A,in Ancient Geography, a district'of Thrace
towards Mount Haemus, to the south of the Hebrus. It
was inhabited by a fierce and barbarous people noted
for their robberies. Their chief city Uscudama is now
know by the name of Adrianople. They lived under
their own kings till the consulate of M. Licinius Lu-
cullus and C. Cassius Varus \ when the consul Lucullus
invaded their country, and having gained a great vic¬
tory over them, took their metropolis, and subjected
the whole nation to the Koman laws. The Homans,
notwithstanding they had subdued them by force of
arms* still suffered them to live under their own kings;
for Piso, while he governed Macedon in quality of pro¬
consul, having treacherously seized Rabocentus, whom
Suetonius calls prince of the Bcssi, caused him to be
publicly beheaded. This affront so exasperated the
whole nation that they revolted ; but were overthrown
in a great battle by Octavius the father of Augustus.
During the civil wars of Rome they attempted anew
to recover their liberty, but were again defeated by the
famous M. Brutus. In the reign of Augustus one Vo-
logesus, a native of the country, and priest of'Bacchus,
having, under pretence of religion, drawn together
great crowds of people, made himself master of the
whole country ; and, entering the Chersonesus, com¬
mitted there the most dreadful ravages. He was at
last, however, overcome by L. Piso ; who obliged the
savage inhabitants to lay down their arms, and submit
to such conditions as he was pleased to impose upon
them. From this time the Bessi continued subject to
the Romans, without attempting any more to regain
their liberty.
BESSIS. See Bes.
BEST AIL, or Bestial, in ancient statutes, all
kinds of beasts or cattle, especially those purveyed for
the king’s provision.
BESTlARII, in Roman antiquity, such as fought
against beasts, or those who were exposed to them by
sentence of the law. There were four kinds of besti-
arii: the first were those who made a trade of it, and
fought for money ; the second were such young men as,
to show their strength and dexterity in managing their
arms, fought against beasts; the third kind was, w here
several bestiarii wTere let loose at once, well armed,
against a number of beasts ; and the fourth kind were
those condemned to the beasts, consisting either of ene¬
mies taken prisoners in war, or as being slaves, and
guilty of some enormous crime ; these were all exposed
naked, and without defence.
BESTRICIA, a town of Transylvania, remarkable
for the gold mines in its neighbourhood. E. Long.
22. 5. N. Lat. 48. o.
BETA, the Beet. See Botany and Agricul¬
ture Index.
BETANZOS, a town of Gallicia in Spain, seated
on the Mandeo, and a bay of the sea, in W. Long. 7.
50. N. Lat. 43. 21.
BETEL, or Betle, in Botany, an Indian plant
(a species of Piper), in great esteem in the east, where
it makes a considerable article of commerce. See
Piper. See also Betel, Supplement.
BETELFAGUI, a town of Asia, in Arabia Felix, Bctelfagui
famous for the vast quantity of coffee bought and sold II
there; being the mart where the country people bring Bet'iesda.
their coffee to sell ; and where the Europeans come, or ~ 'r‘"J
send their factors or brokers, to purchase it. E. Long.
57. 20. N. Lat. 15. 40.
BETH A BARA, in Ancient Geography, a term de¬
noting a passage; and therefore by many referred to
the passage at Jericho, where the Israelites passed over
dry-shod ; by Lightfoot, to the passage at Scythopolis;
but Cellarius refers it to the midway between both ;
because there were doubtless several middle passages or
fords on the Jordan. Here John is said to have baptized
on the other side Jordan, (Evangelists).
BETHAGLA, or Beth-hagla, in Ancient Geo¬
graphy, a town of the tribe of Benjamin (Joshua xviii.
21.). In Jerome’s time there was a village called Agio,
ten miles from Eleutheropolis, towards Gaza, and sup¬
posed to be Bethagia.
BETHANY, in Ancient Geography, a village at the
foot of Mount Olivet, on the side, about two miles to
the east of Jerusalem, (John, Jerome) ; where Lazarus
dwelt and was raised from the dead ; and where hap¬
pened the ascension of our Saviour.
BETHARAMPHTHA, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Galilee, (Ptolemy) of the Peraea, (Josephus);
which being walled round by Herod Antipas, was call¬
ed Julias, after Julia, the daughter of Augustus, and
consort of Tiberius : it stood to the north of the lake of
Genesareth, at the influx of the Jordan into that lake ;
and here Dr Wells places Bethsaida.
BETHARAN, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
Persea, or on the other side Jordan. Said to be call¬
ed Livias, or Libias, in the Greek manner, by Herod
in honour of Livia, (Eusebius, Jerome) ; and of the
same latitude almost with Jerusalem, (Ptolemy) ; called
Julias by Josephus, who always calls the Livia of Au¬
gustus Julia.
BETH A YEN, in Ancient Geography, a town in
the tribe of Ephraim, and a name given Bethel by
Hosea, after the establishment of the idolatry of Je¬
roboam there ; meaning it to have become the house
of iniquity, from being the house of God ; hut Betha-
ven was a distinct town (Joshua vii. 2.) to the south¬
east of Bethel.
BETHEL, in Ancient Geography, a city of Samaria,
on the borders of the tribe of Benjamin, anciently call¬
ed Zaz, (Moses) ; but they seem to be distinguished,
(Joshua xvi. 2.). They were, however, contiguous
places. Bethel was properly the place of Jacob’s vi¬
sion ; and Luz, or Lus, an adjoining town, afterwards
called Bethel, the former name being lost in that of Be¬
thel. It was twelve miles to the north-east of Jerusalem
(Jerome) ; and called Bcthaven (Hosea).
BETHESDA, (called in the Greek, x.oXvpZrify"'
-x^xroin, and thence in the Vulgate, Piscina Pi'obati-
ca, because, according to some, the sheep were washed
in it, which were appointed for sacrifices), was the
Hebrew name for a pool or public bath, which had
five porticos, piazzas, or covered walks, around it.
This bath, for its singular usefulness, was called Beth-
esda, mnn no, or Beth Chesda, or the house of Mercy,
because, as Pool in his Annotations observes, the erect¬
ing of baths was an act of great kindness to the com¬
mon people, whose indispositions in hot countries re-
BET [ 59V 1 BET
B=liesJa. quired frequent bathing. However, some will have
wy——^ the word Bethesda to be mtrxn'D or the sink-house, or
drain, because the waters which came from the temple,
and the place where the victims rvere washed, flowed
thither. From the Greek word x.'tXvp.&nhz being used
by Josephus {Antiq. xv. 3.) to denote the baths at Je¬
richo, Dr Macknight, in his Harmony of the Gos¬
pels, concludes that their opinion seems to be without
a proper foundation who affirm, that this pool served
for washing the sheep designed for sacrifice before they
were driven into the temple, and for washing the en¬
trails of the beasts sacrificed there : besides, he thinks
it inconsistent with the situation of Bethesda, near the
sheep-gale (or market, as our English translators have
rendered the Greek st™ tij though
some copies have it, m, &c.) in the south-east wall
of the city ; or, according to the compilers of the Uni¬
versal History, in that which was on the north-east, a
great way from the temple. However this may be, we
are told (John v. 2, 3, &c.) that in the porticos of
this bath, at the time of a certain feast (which is ge¬
nerally supposed to have been the passover), there lay a
multitude of impotent folk, such as the blind, halt, and
withered, waiting for the moving of the water : for an
angel went down at a certain period into the pool, and
troubled the water j that is, moved it in a sensible man¬
ner. Whosoever then first, after the troubling of the
water, stepped into it, was made whole of whatever
disease he had. Some writers confine the miracle of
the pool of Bethesda to the season of this particular
feast mentioned in verse 1. of this chapter, because they
understand Kitrx Kxtgtv by times (verse 4), which our
translators render a certain season, meant at that sea¬
son ; that is, the season mentioned verse 1.; and since
the evangelist does not say that the waters of Bethesda
had their sanative quality at any other feast, we are at
liberty to make what supposition seems most convenient.
Perhaps the silence of Philo and Josephus upon this
miracle may induce some to think that it happened
only at one passover $ for though many infirm people
lay in Bethesda, if the angel, as is probable, descended
frequently during that solemnity, the miracle would be
no sooner known, than multitudes would come and wait
at the pool to be cured by the moving of the waters :
however, if the number of the sick who gathered on
this occasion, and the phrase xarac shall incline
any person to believe that the waters of Bethesda had
an healing quality at other passovers also, Dr Mack-
night observes, that the silence of the writers before
mentioned needs not be much regarded ; it beinsr well
known that they have omitted greater transactions
which they had an opportunity to know, viz. that mul¬
titude and variety of miracles which our Lord per-
[ formed in the course of his ministry. That the waters
of Bethesda should at this time have obtained a mira¬
culous healing quality was, without doubt, as that wri¬
ter remarks, in honour ol the personal appearance of
the Son of God on earth. Perhaps it was intended to
show that Ezekiel’s (xlvii.) vision of waters issuing out
of the sanctuary was about to be fulfilled, of which
waters it is said (ib. verse 9.) “ They shall be healed,
and every thing shall live whither the river cometh.”
But it must be observed, that the fourth verse of this
chapter of St John is not in the Cambridge MSS.
which formerly was Bczx’s, nor in one or two more
of great authority. See Dr Mill’s judgment of it in Bethcsta,
that part of his Prolegomena to which he refers the Bethlehem,
reader in his note on the text. But though it should
be rejected, the difficulty for which some would have
it cancelled, Dr Macknight observes, remains still : be¬
cause the seventh verse implies that cures were per¬
formed in this pool, and that only one at a time was
cured, and consequently that these cures were miracu¬
lous. If so, it is as easy to conceive that an angel
moved the water, and gave it its healing quality, as to
fancy those cures were performed miraculously any
other way. Grotius thinks, that the angel is said to
have descended, not because he was ever seen to do so,
but because the Jews were persuaded that God brought
such tilings to pass by the ministration of angels ; so
that from that violent motion of the water, and the cure
following it, the presence of an angel was with reason
supposed. Dr Hammond supposes, that the waters
became medicinal by being impregnated with a healing
warmth from the blood and entrails of the sacrificed
beasts that were washed there ; and that the asyysAos,
angel, or messenger, in the text, is not to be understood
of those celestial beings that are usually distinguished
by that name, but only of a common messenger, viz. an
officer or seivant of the priest, who at a proper season
was sent by him to stir the pool.
BETHLEHEM, a town of Palestine, famous for
the birth of Jesus Christ. It was once a flourishing
town, but is now only a poor village. It is situated
two leagues south-east of Jerusalem, on an eminence,
in a country full of hills and valleys, and might be ren¬
dered very agreeable. The soil is the best in all those
districts : fruits, vines, olives, and sesamum succeed
here extremely well •, but cultivation is wanting. They
reckon about 600 men in this village capable of bear¬
ing arms upon occasion ; and this often occurs, some¬
times to resist the pacha, sometimes to make war with
the adjoining villages, and sometimes in consequence
of intestine dissensions. Of these 600 men, about 100
are Latin Christians, who have a vicar dependent on
the great convent of Jerusalem. Formerly their whole
trade consisted in the manufacture of beads ; but the
reverend fathers not being able to find a sale for all
they could furnish, they have resumed the cultivation
of their lands. They make a white wine, which jus¬
tifies the former celebrity of the wines of Judea, but
it has the bad property of being very heady. The
necessity of uniting for their common defence prevails
over their religious differences, and makes the Christians
live here in tolerable harmony with the Mahometans,
their fellow-citizens. Both are of the party Yama?ii,
which, in opposition to that called Kaifi, divides all
Palestine into two factions, perpetually at variance.
The courage of these peasants, which has been fre¬
quently tried, has rendered them formidable through
all that country. Here is a church built by St He¬
lena, in the form of a cross, which is very large ; and
from its top may be seen all the country round about,,
The roof is lofty, flat, and composed of cedar on the
inside, and leaded without. Both sides of the nave
are supported by two rows of marble pillars, each made
of one piece, and eleven in a row, insomuch that they
make as it were five naves, separated from each other
by these rows of pillars, in each of which is the pic¬
ture of some saint. On the wall over the pillars there
is .
BET [ 592 ] BET
iJelhlehem ,s a very beautiful mosaic work, on a gold ground.
The walls were formerly overlaid with fine marble,
Bethoron. {jUt the Turks have taken it to adorn their mosques.
The three upper ends of the cross terminate in three
semicircles, having in each an altar. Over the chan¬
cel there is a stately cupola, covered with lead on the
outside, and within adorned with mosaic work. Close
to the church is the monastery of the Franciscans ;
which is large, but indifferently built. The gardens
are defended with strong walls, and at the north west
of them stands a tower now almost in ruins. Their
chapel is better taken care of. Through this there is
a passage to a square cave, where they say the Inno¬
cents were buried. Beyond this there are passages to
the tombs of St Jerome, St Paula, Eustochium, and
Eusebius of Cremona. Beyond these there is a grot
or cell, which they say was the lodging place of St
Jerome when he translated the Bible. Another en¬
trance leads to a vault or chapel, 12 feet wide and 40
long, whose floor is paved, and sides lined with white
marble, and the roof is adorned with mosaic work,
now much decayed. At the end of this there is an
arched concavity, with an altar, over which is a pic¬
ture of the nativity, and under it a vault, the middle of
which is a star made with stones of various colours, to
mark the place where they say our Saviour was born 5
and near this is the manger w here they pretend he was
laid ; it is hewn out of a rock, and is now flagged with
white marble.
Bethlehem, a town of the Netherlands, in the pro¬
vince of Brabant, subject to the house of Austria. E.
Long. 4. 40. N. Lat. 51. 2.
BETHLEHEMITE8,or Bethlemites, in church
history, a sort of monks introduced into England in
the year 1257, habited like the Dominicans, except
that, on their breast, they wore a star with five rays, in
memory of the star or comet which appeared over Beth¬
lehem at the nativity of our Saviour. They were celled
at Cambridge, and had only one house in England.
There is also an order ef Bethlehemites still subsisting
in Peru, who have convents at Lima ; one called of the
Incurables, the other of our Lady of Mount Carmel.
Th ese Bethlehemites came originally from the city of
Guatimala in Mexico, where they were instituted by the
venerable Peter Joseph of Betaneur, for the service of
the poor. Innocent XL in 1687, approved the insti¬
tute. They have already nine convents in Peru.
The Bethlehemites, though outw7ardly of great sim¬
plicity, pass for the most refined politicians ; insomuch
as to be called the quintessence of the Carmelites and
Jesuits. They are all friars. For their almoner they
choose a secular priest, whom they hire, and who has no
vote in the chapter.
BETHORON, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Samaria ; Upper and Nether, and both in the tribe of
Ephraim, built by Shera grand daughter of Ephraim,
I Chron. viii. 24. both which were restored by Solomon,
after falling to decay, I Kings ix. 17. and 2 Chron. viii.
5. Their distance was almost the whole breadth of the
tribe of Ephraim, the Upper being in the north, the
Nether in the south, of that tribe, Joshua xvi. We
know more of the Nether than of the Upper 5 it was
situated on a mountain, and therefore Josephus and Je¬
rome mention going up or ascending; and it stood on
the public road to Lydda and Caesarea, distant an Imn- Beti»r01i i
dred stadia, or twelve miles, from Jerusalem : and on jj
account of this vicinity, some allot it to the tribe of Bethune,! *
Benjamin. '
BETH-PEOR, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the Reubenites, on the other side Jordan, at Mount
Fogor, over against Jericho, six miles above Livias. It
had a temple sacred to the idol Baal-Peor, Numbers
xxv. 3. called Beel-Phegor by the Vulgate, interpreted
Priapus by Jerome.
BETHPHAGE, in Ancient Geography, a place at
the west descent or declivity of Mount Olivet, Matthew
xxi. 1. From which it may be gathered, that the whole
of that declivity, with a part of the valley, and the ex¬
treme skirts of the city, went under the common name
of Bethphage.
BETH SAIDA. See Betharamphtha.
BETHSAN, or Bethsean, in Ancient Geography,
a town of Samaria, in the half tribe of Manasseh, on
the borders of Galilee, about half a league from Jor¬
dan, on this side, having half of its territory in the Pe-
raea : it was afterwards called Scythopolis : it was distant
from Tiberias, situated on the lake Genesareth, 120
stadia, or 15 miles, to the south 5 and from Jerusalem to
the north, 600 stadia, or 75 miles. As to the origin of
the appellation Scythopolis, there scarce appears any
thing in history that lias a relation to it, but the irruption
of the Scythians in the time of the Medes, when they
overran ail Asia. It was the greatest city of all the De-
capolis, (Josephus). It is called Baeson by Stephanus.
BETHUNE, Maximilian de, duke of Sully,
grand master of the artillery, and marshal of France,
sovereign prince of Enrichemont and Bois-Bell, mar¬
quis of Rosny, and one of the ablest and most upright
ministers France ever had, was descended from an il¬
lustrious house, and was born in 1560. He entered very
voung into the service of Henry of Bourbon then king
of Navarre, afterwards Henry IV. of France, who was
only seven years older than Sully. He was bred in
the reformed religion, and continued in the profession
of it to the end of his life, though from political mo¬
tives he advised his master to abjure it, as the only me¬
thod of putting an end to the miseries of France. Af¬
ter Henry had gained possession of the kingdom, Sully
performed all the duties of a great and good minister,
while his master exercised all the offices of a great and
good king. He had been at the battles of Coutras,
Arques, and Ivry $ at the sieges of Paris, Noyon,
Rouen, and Laon j and signalized himself on every
important occasion. In 1597 he was made chief over¬
seer of the highways of France ; and the following
year was raised to the post of supeiintendant of the fi¬
nances. Though he was then but 40 years of age,
and had hitherto signalized himself only in the army,
he put the king’s finances in such order, that he paid his
debts, which amounted to two hundred millions of li-
vres, and laid up great sums in the king’s treasury. In
1601 he was made grand-master of the artillery, the
next year governor of the Bastile, and afterwards su-
perintendant of the fortifications. He was then sent
into England as ambassador extraordinary ; and hadj
at his return, the government of Poictou. At last
Henry IV. in 1606, erected in his favour the territory
of Sully on the Loire into a duchy and peerage, and
made
B E -T
jjf ane him grand-master of the ports and havens. Af-
j ter the murder of that great prince in 1610, the duke
flenica. 0f Sully, who had served him with the greatest zeal
and fidelity, was obliged to retire to one of his hoUsesj
where he enjoyed a private life; but in 1634 he was
made marshal of France, upon which he resigned the
post of grand-master of the artillery. He died in his
castle of Villebon on the 2ist of December 1641, at
82 years of age. His memoirs are ranked among the
best books of French history : they contain a most par¬
ticular account of whatever passed from the peace of
1570 to the death of Henry IV. in 1610 : and acquire
additional value frem the many curious personal anec¬
dotes preserved in them. They were ttanslated into
English by Mrs Lennox ill 1757.
Bethune, a town of France, in the department of
the Straits of Calais, containing upwards of 5000 in¬
habitants. There is an entrance into this city through
four gates, and it is surrounded with walls and fortified.
The city and the castle taken together are of a trian¬
gular figure, but the castle itself is a very irregular
building. The houses are very indifferent, and the
streets ill paved ; however, there is a large handsome
square and several churches; In the marshy lands near
the city there are several canals cut for the conveniency
of whitening linen. It is seated on a rock by the river
Belfe. E. Long. 2. 48. N. Lat. 50. 32.
BETIS, governor of Gaza under Darius, famous for
his valour and loyalty. He defended a place of conse¬
quence with a few men against Alexander, who was
there shot through the shoulder. Betis thinking him
slam* returned triumphantly to the city; but in a se¬
cond assault he was wounded and brought to Alexander,
who cfuelly ordered him to be put to death.
BETLEY, a town of Staffordshire in England.
It is seated on the confines of the county, next to
Cheshire, in a barren sandy soil. W. Long. 2. 151
N. Lat. 53. o.
BEILIS-, a strong town of Armenia Or Turcoma-
nia, belonging to a bey or prince of the country, who
is very powerful, and is subject td neither the* grand
signior nor king of Persia. It lies on the road from
J auris to Aleppo, and the prince can stop caravans
whenever he pleases ; for the passage between the
mountains is so narrow, that ten men can defend it
Against 1000. I he town is seated between two moun¬
tains about a cannon-shot from each other, and the
castle is on an eminence exactly in the middle. This
eminence is in the shape of a sugar-loaf; and is so steep
on all sides, that it is impossible to get up but by wind¬
ing round about it. The people in and about the town
are shepherds, but are ready to take up arms at the
command of their prince. E. Long* 42. 4O; N. Lat.
37. 20.
BE 1 ON, a name given by the French engineers to
a kind ol mortar, which they use in raising fhe founda¬
tions of masonry under water. It consists of twelve
parts of pozzolana or Dutch tarrass, six of good sand*
nine of unslaked lime, thirteen of stone splinters about
the size of an egg, and three of tile-dust or cinders,
or scales of iron out of a forge ; this being well work¬
ed together, is left to stand for about 24 hours, or till
it becomes so hard Us not to be separated without a pick¬
axe.
BETONICA, Betony. See Botany Index.
Vol. III. Part II. +
t $93 1
BET
Betonica Aquatica. See ScroEhularIa, BoTa- Eetonica
NY Index. !j
Betonica Pauli. See Veronica, Botany Indexi Betterton.
BETONY. See Betonica, Botany Index. —
BETROTHMENT, a mutual promise or compact
between two parties for a future marriage. The word
imports as much as giving one’s troth ; that is, true
faith, or promise. Betrothment Amounts to the same
with what is called by civilians apd canonists sponsalia^
or “espousals;” sometimes desponstition, and by the
French finncailles.
BETTERTON, Thomas, the celebrated actor*
tvas the son of Mr Betterton, untler^cook to King
Charles I. and was born in Tothil-street Westminster
in the year 1635. Having received the first rudiments
of a genteel education, his fondness for reading indu¬
ced him to request of his parents that they would bind
him an apprentice to a bookseller, which was readily
complied with, fixing on one Mr Rhodes near Cha-
ring-cross for his master. This gentleman, who had
been wardrobe-keeper to the theatre in Blackfriars be¬
fore the troubles, obtained a license in 1659, ^rom the
powers then in being* to set up a company of players
in the Cockpit in Drury-Lane, in which company
Mr Betterton enteted himself, and, though not much
above 20 years of age, immediately gave proof of the
most capital genius and merit.
Soon after the Restoration, two distinct theatres
were established by royal authority : the one in Drury-
Lane in consequence of a patent gtanted to Henry
Killigrew, Esq. which was called the King's Company :
the other in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, who styled them¬
selves the Duke of York's Servants, the patentee of
which was the ingenious Sir William Davenant; which
last-mentioned gentleman having long had a close inti¬
macy with and warm friendship for Mr Rhodes, enga*
ged Mr Betterton, and all who had acted under Mr
Rhodes, into his company; which opened in 1662
with a new play of Sir William’s, in two parts, called
the Siege of Rhodes. In this piece, as well as in the
subsequent characters which Mr Betterton performed-,
he increased his reputation and esteem with the public,
and indeed became so much in favour with King
Charles II. that by his majesty’s special command he
went over to Paris to take a view of the French stage,
that he might the better judge what would contribute
to the improvement of our own J and it was upon this
occasion* as is generally supposed, that moving scenes
Were first introduced upon the English theatre, which
before had been only hung with tapestry.
In th e year 1670 he married one Mrs Sanderson, a
female performer on the same stage; who, both as an
actress and a woman, was every thing that human per¬
fection Was fcapable of arriving at, and with whom he
through the whole course of his remaining life possessed
every degree of happiness that a perfect union of hearts
can bestow.
When the duke’s company removed to Dorset-Gar-
dens, he still continued With them ; and on the coali¬
tion of the two companies in 1684, he acceded to the
treaty, and remained among them ; Mrs Betterton
maintaining the same foremost figure among the wo¬
men that her husband supported among the male per¬
formers. And so great was the estimation that they
were both held in, that in the year 1675, when a pai
4 F storal
BET [ 594 ] B E V
Betterton storal called Calista, or the Chaste Nymph, written by
‘ v Mr Crown, at the desire of Queen Catharine consort to
Charles II. was to be performed at court by persons
of the greatest distinction, our English Roscius was em¬
ployed to instruct the gentlemen, and Mrs Betterton
honoured with the tutorage of the ladies, among whom
w-ere the two princesses Mary and Anne, daughters of
the duke of York, both of whom succeeded to the
crown of these realms. In grateful remembrance of
which, the latter of them, when queen, settled a pen¬
sion of iool. per annum on her old instructress.
In 1693, Mr Betterton having sounded the inclina¬
tions of a select number of the actors whom he found
ready to join with him, obtained, through the influ¬
ence of the earl of Dorset, the royal license for act¬
ing in a separate theatre j and was very soon enabled,
by the voluntary subscriptions of many persons of qua¬
lity, to erect a new playhouse within the walls of the
Tennis Court in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields. To this step
Mr Betterton is said to have been induced, partly by
ill treatment from the managers, and partly with a view
to repair, by the more enlarged profits of a manager,
the loss of his whole fortune (upwards of 20001.),
which he had undergone in the year 1692, by adven¬
turing it in a commercial scheme to the East Indies.
Be this, however, as it will, the new theatre opened in
1695 with Mr Congreve’s Love for Love, the success
of which was amazingly great. Yet, in a few years, it
appeared that the profits arising from this theatre, op¬
posed as it was by all the strength of Cibber’s and Van¬
brugh’s writings at the other house, were very insignifi¬
cant ; and Mr Betterton growing now into the infirmi¬
ties of age, and labouring under violent attacks of the
gout, he gladly quitted at once the fatigues of manage¬
ment and the hurry of the stage.
The public, however, who retained a grateful sense
of the pleasure they had frequently received from this
theatrical veteran, and sensible of the narrowness of his
circumstances, resolved to continue the marks of their
esteem to him by giving him a benefit. On the 7th
of April 1709 the comedy of Love for Love was per¬
formed for this purpose, in which this gentleman him¬
self, though then upwards of 70 years of age, acted
the youthful part of Valentine ; as in the September
following he did that of Hamlet, his performance of
which the author of the Tatler has taken particular
notice of. On the former occasion, those very eminent
performers, Mrs Barry, Mrs Bracegirdle, and Mr Dog-
get, who had all quitted the stage some years before, in
gratitude to one whom they had had so many obliga¬
tions to, acted the parts of Angelica, Mrs Frail, and
Ben \ and Mr Rowe wrote an epilogue for that night,
which was spoken by the two ladies, supporting be¬
tween them this once powerful supporter of the English
stage. The profits of this night are said to have a-
mounted to upwards of 300I. the prices having been
raised to the same that the operas and oratorios are at
present j and when the curtain drew up, almost as large
an audience appearing behind as before it.
The next winter Mr Betterton was prevailed on by
Mr Owen M‘Swinney, then manager of the opera-
house in the Hay-market (at which plays were acted
four times a week) to continue performing, though but
seldom. In consequence of which, in the ensuing
spring, viz. on the 25th of April 1710, another play
2
was given out for this gentleman’s benefit, viz. The Betterton1
Maid’s Tragedy of Beaumont and Fletcher, in which ||
he himself performed his celebrated part of Melanthus. Bevelling.
This, however, was the last time of his appearing up-
on the stage. For having been suddenly seized with
the gout, and being impatient at the thoughts of disap¬
pointing his friends, he made use of outward applica¬
tions to reduce the swellings of his feet, which enabled
him to walk on the stage, though obliged to have his
foot in a slipper. But although he acted that day with
unusual spirit and briskness, and met with universal ap¬
plause, yet he paid very dear for this tribute he had
paid to the public 5 for the fomentations he had made
use of occasioning a revulsion of the gouty humour to
the nobler parts, threw the distemper up into his head,
and terminated his life on the 28th of that month.
On the 2d of May his body was interred with much
ceremony in the cloister of Westminster, and great
honour paid to his memory by his friend the Tatler,
who has related in a very pathetic, and at the same
time the most dignified manner, the process of the ce¬
remonial. As an author, Mr Betterton had a consi¬
derable degree of merit. His dramatic works are,
1. Amorous Widow, a comedy. 2. Dioclesian, a dra¬
matic opera. 3. Masque in the Opera of the Pro¬
phetess. 4. Revenge, a comedy. 5. Unjust Judge, a
tragedy. 6. Woman made a justice, a comedy. As
an actor, he was certainly one of the greatest of either
his own or any other age $ but those who are desirous
of having him painted out in the most lively colours
to their imagination, we must refer to the description
given of him by his cotemporary and friend Colley
Cibber, in the Apology for his own life.
BETTINELLI, Xavier, a late Italian writer.
See Supplement.
BETUE, or Betaw, a territory of the Low Coun¬
tries in the duchy of Guelderland, between the rivers
Rhine and Leek.
BETULA, the Birch-tree. See Botany In¬
dex.
BETULEIUS, Sixtus, an able grammarian, a
good Latin poet and philosopher, born at Memmin-
gen in tbe year 1500 j his true name was Birck. He
taught the belles lettres and philosophy with reputa¬
tion $ and became principal of the college of Augsburg,
where he died on the 16th of June 1554. He published
several works in prose ; and his dramatic pieces of Jo¬
seph, Susannah, and Judith, are esteemed.
BEVECUM, a town of the Netherlands, in the
province of Brabant. E. Long. 4. 50. N. Lat.
45-
BEVEL, among masons, carpenters, &c. a kind of
square, one leg whereof is frequently crooked, accord¬
ing to the sweep of an arch or vault. It is moveable on
a centre, and so may be set to any angle.
BEVEL-Angle, any other angle besides those of 90 or
45 degrees.
BEVELAND, North and South, two islands in
the province of Zealand, between the eastern and west¬
ern branches of the river Scheldt, making part of the
United Provinces.
BEVELLING, in ship-building, the art of hew¬
ing a timber with a proper and regular curve, accord¬
ing to a mould which is laid on one side of its surface.
“ In order to hew any piece of timber to its proper
bevel,
B E V C 595 ] B E V
g,filing bevel, It will be necessary, first, to make one side fair
|1 and out of winding; a term used to signify that the side
13e>»laiuf 0f a timber should be a plane. If this side be upper-
U"~' most, and placed horizontally, or upon a level, it is
plain, it the timber is to be hewed square, it may be
done by a plummet and line 5 but if the timber is not
hewed square, the line will not touch both the upper
and lower edge of the piece 5 or if a square be applied
to it, there will be wood wanting either at the upper
or lower side. This is called within or without a square.
When the wood is deficient at the under side, it is call¬
ed under-bevelling; and when it is deficient on the up¬
per side, it is called standing-bevelling; and this defici¬
ency will be more or less according to the depth of the
piece 5 so that, before the proper bevellings of the tim¬
bers are found, it will be sometimes very convenient to
assign the breadth of the timbers 5 nay, in most cases it
will be absolutely necessary, especially afore and abaft:
though the breadth of two timbers, or the timber and
room, which includes the two timbers and the space be¬
tween them, may be taken without any sensible error,
as far as the square body goes. For as one line repre¬
sents the moulding side of two timbers, the foreside of
the one being supposed to unite with the aft-side of the
other; the two may be considered as one entire piece
of timber.” Murray's Ship-Building.
BLVFRAGE, in a general sense, signifies & drink:
hence nectar is said to be the beverage of the gods. In
writers of the middle age, beverage, beveragium, or bi-
beragium, denotes money to give to an artificer, or other
person, to drink, over and above his hire or wages.
BEVERIDGE, William, a learned English bi¬
shop, in the beginning of the 18th century, was born
in the year 1638, and educated in St John’s college
Cambridge, where he distinguished himself very early
by his extensive learning, and particularly by his know¬
ledge of the oriental languages. Upon the deprivation
of Dr Thomas Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells, for not
taking the oaths to the government in 1691, he refused
the oiler of that see, though he was then chaplain to
King William and Queen Mary. In 1704 he was con¬
secrated to the bishopric of St Asaph ; in which high
function he so behaved himself all along, and discharged
it in so exemplary a manner, that he approved himself
a truly primitive prelate. He died at his lodgings in
the Cloisters in Westminster-abbey in 1707, aged 69.
As his whole life was spent in acts of piety and cha¬
rity, so he gave remarkable instances of both at his
death, leaving the bulk of his estate for the propagation
of the gospel, and promoting of Christian knowledge,
at home as well as abroad. His Private Thoughts up¬
on a Christian Life is a very popular, though in many
points a very exceptionable, book. He wrote several
other works on various subjects, particularly on the ori¬
ental tongues.
BEVERLAND, Hadrian, a man of excellent ge¬
nius in the end of the 17th century, but who prostitu¬
ted it in the study and composition of books of a very
obnoxious kind. He was a perfect master of Ovid,
Catullus, Petronius, and authors of that stamp. He
is famous for his book on Original Sin, in which he
maintained, that Adam’s sin consisted in his commerce
with his wife, and that original sin is nothing else
but the inclination of the sexes to each other : it was
condemned to be burnt. He led a scandalous life, but
seems to have repented of his wicked manners and lewd Hercrland
writings; for he published a treatise in the erid of his j|
life, De Fornicatione Cavenda, in 1698. It is said Beverly,
he died mad. 1
BEVERLEY, a town of Yorkshire, governed by
a mayor, a recorder, 12 aldermen, &c. and sends two
members to parliament. The minster here is a very
fair and neat structure, and the roof is an arch of
stone. In it are several monuments of the Percies, earls
of Northumberland, who had added a little chapel to
the choir, in the windows whereof there are several
pictures of that family painted on glass. At the upper
end of the choir, at the right of the altar-place, stands
the freed stool, made of one entire stone, to which
every one that fled had a right of protection. At the
upper end of the body of the church, next the choir,
hangs an ancient table, with the picture of King Athel-
stane, who founded the church. Between them is this
inscription :
Als free make I thee,
As heart can wish, or egh can see.
Hence the inhabitants pay no toll in any town or port
in England. In the body of the church stands an an¬
cient monument, called the Virgins Tomb, because two
virgin-sisters lie buried there, who gave the town a
piece of land, into which any free man may put three
milk-cows from Lady-day to Michaelmas. At the
lower end of the body of the church is a large font of
agate stone.
Near the minster, on the south side of it, is a place
called Hall-Garth, wherein they keep a court of re¬
cord, caWed Pj'ovost's Court. In this, causes arising with¬
in the liberties may be tried for any sum. The liberties
contain above 100 towns and parts of towns, in Holder-
nesse and other parts of the east riding belonging to
it. The town is a mile in length, having pleasant
springs running quite through it. It is beautified with
two stately churches ; and has a free-school, with two
fellowships, six scholarships, and three exhibitions in
St John’s college, Cambridge, belonging to it; besides
six alms-houses, where none are admitted but those that
give bond to leave their effects to the poor when they
die. The principal trade of this town is making malt,
oatmeal, and tanned leather; and the poor people
chiefly support themselves by making bone-lace. A-
bout a mile east from the town, there is a mineral
water, which cures eruptions of the skin, and is bene¬
ficial in the king’s evil. Population 6035 in 1811.
E. Long. o. 9. N. Lat. 53. 50.
BEVERLY, a sea-port of Massachusets in North
America, separated from Salem by a bridge. It is 20
miles north of Boston, in N. Lat. 42. 31. W. Long.
70. 50.
Beverly, John of, in Latin Joannes Peverla-
cius, archbishop of York in the eighth century, was
born of a noble family at Harpham in Northumber¬
land, and was justly esteemed one of the best scholars
of his time. He was first a monk, and afterwards
abbot of the monastery of St Hilda, when his merit
recommended him to the favour of Alfred king of
Northumberland, who in the year 685 advanced him
to the see of Hagustald or Hexham, and in 687
translated him to the archbishopric of York. This
prelate was tutor to the famous Bede; and lived in the
4 F 2 strictest
B E v [ 596 1 B E Z
Beverly strictest friendship with Acca and other Anglo-Saxon
H. doctors, several ot whom he,engaged to write comments
^vin- on the Holy Scriptures. In 704,'he founded a college
at Beverly for secular priests j and after he had go¬
verned the see of York 34 years, being tired of the
tumults and confusions that prevailed in the church,
divested himself of his episcopal character, and retired
to Beverly j where he died four years after, on the 7th
of May 721.—Bede and other monkish writers ascribe
several miracles to him. Between 300 and 400 years
after his death, his body was taken up by Alfric arch¬
bishop of York, and placed in a shrine richly adorn¬
ed with silver, gold, and precious stones ; and in
1416, the day of his death was, by a synod held at
Jjondon, appointed a festival. We are told that Wil¬
liam the Conqueror, when he ravaged Northumber¬
land with a numerous army, spared Beverly alone,
out of a religious veneration for St John of that place.
rIhis prelate wrote some pieces which are mentioned
by Bale and Pits, viz. 1. Pro Luca exponenda.
2. HomMce in Evangelica. 3. Epistolce ad Hildum
Abbatmsam. 4. Epistolce ad Herebaldum, Andenum et
Bertinum.
BEVERUNGEN, a town of Germany, in the
diocese of Paderborn, seated at the confluence of the
rivers Beve and Weser, in E. Long. 9. 30. N. Lat.
51.40.
BE VILE, in Heraldry, a thing broken or open¬
ing like a carpenter’s rule : Thus we say, he bear-
eth argent, a chief bevile, vert, by the name of Berer-
lis.
BEVIN, Elway, a musician eminently skilled in
the knowledge of practical composition, flourished to¬
wards the end of Queen Elizabeth’s reign. He was of
Welsh extraction, and had been educated under Tallis,
upon whose recommendation it was that in 1589 he
was sworn in gentleman extraordinary of the chapel;
from whence he was expelled in 1637, it being disco¬
vered that he adhered to the Romish communion. Pie
was also organist of Bristol cathedral, hut forfeited
that employment at the same time with his place in the
Hawkins's chapel. Child, afterwards Doctor, was his scholar.
Hist, of He has composed sundry services, and a few anthems.
Music. Before Bevin’s time the precepts for the composition of
canon were known to few. Tallis, Bird, Waterhouse,
and Farmer, were eminently skilled in this most ab¬
struse part of musical practice. Every canon, as given
to the public, was a kind of enigma. Compositions of
this kind were sometimes exhibited in the form of a
cross, sometimes in that of a circle '7 there is now ex¬
tant one resembling a horizontal sun-dial : and the re¬
solution (as it was called) of a canon, which was the
resolving it into its elements and reducing it into score,
was deemed a work of almost as great difficulty as the
original composition. But Bevin, with a view to the
improvement of students, generously communicated the
result of many years study and experience, in a treatise
which is highly commended by all who have taken
occasion to speak of it. This book was published in
4to, in 1631, and dedicated to Goodman bishop of Glou¬
cester, with the following title : ‘ A briefe and short
instruction of the art of music, to teach how to rtiake
discant of all proportions that are in use : very neces¬
sary for all such as are desirous to attain to knowledge
in the art; and may by practice, if they can sing, soon
3
be able to compose three, four, and five parts, and also j •
to compose all sorts ot canons that are usual, by these |TI*
directions ot two or three parts in one upon the plain
song.’ The rules contained in this book, for composi-
tion, in general are very brief 5 but for the composition
of canon there are in it a great variety of examples of
almost all the possible forms in which it is capable of
being constructed, even to the extent of 60 parts.
BEWDLY, a town of Worcestershire in England,
seated on the bank of the river Severn, in W. Long.
2. 20. N. Lat. 52. 25. It has its name Bewdley,
Beawley, or Beaulieu, from its pleasant situation on the
declivity of a hill overlooking the river, and command¬
ing a fine prospect of the country, and formerly of the
forest of Wyre, remarkable for its tall stately oaks and
other trees, which have since been either blown or cut
down. It was formerly accounted so delightful a place,
that Henry VII. built a house here for Prince Arthur,
which he called Tiken-hall. Bewdley sent burgesses to
parliament very early, and had charters and great pri¬
vileges from Edwai*'. IV. and Henry VII. which were
confirmed with the addition of others, by Henry VII],
in whose time it was annexed to the county of Worce¬
ster. King James I. granted it a charter; of which a
surrender was procured in Charles II.’s time, and the
corporation was new-modelled. King James 11. com¬
pelled it to accept of a new charter ; but the former
surrender, upon a trial, was held void, and a new char¬
ter was obtained of Queen Anne. In consequence of
this it is governed by a bailiff and burgesses, recorder,
steward, town-clerk, &c. The town is neat and well
built; and carries on a considerable trade, by means of
the Severn, in salt, glass, iron-ware, and Manchester
goods ; but its chief manufacture is in caps, commonly
called Monmouth Caps. Bewdly contained 3454 inha-'
bitants in 1811.
BE WITS, in falconry, pieces of leather, to which
a hawk’s bells are fastened, and buttoned to his
legs.
BEY, among the Turks, signifies a governor of a
country or town. The Turks write it begh or bek, but
pronounce it bey.
The word is particularly applied to a lord of a ban¬
ner, whom, in the same language, they call sangiat
beg or bey. Every province in Turkey is divided into
seven sangiacs, or banners, each of which qualifies a
bey; and these are all commanded by the governor of
the province, whom they also call beglerbeg, that is,
lord of all the beghs or beys of the province : these
beys are much the same as banners were formerly in
England.
Bey of Tunis, denotes a prince or king thereof; an¬
swering to what at Algiers is called the dey. In the
kingdom of Algiers, each province is governed by a
bey, or viceroy, who is appointed and removed at plea¬
sure by the dey ; but has a despotic power within his
jurisdiction.
BEYKANEER, or Bicanere, a principality of
Hindostan. See Supplement.
BEYS, Giles, a celebrated printer at Paris, in the
16th century, and the first introducer of the consonants
j and v.
BEZA, Theodore, one of the principal pillars of
the reformed church, was born at Vezelai, in Burgun¬
dy, June 24th, 1519. He was brought up by his
uncle
B E Z [ 597 ] B E Z
za, imcle Nicholas de Bcza, counsellor of the parliament
' of Paris, till (he month of December 1528, when he
sent him to study at Orleans, and afterwards at
Bourges, where he was under the care of Melchior
Wolmar, under whom he made an extraordinary pro¬
gress in polite learning, and from him imbibed the
principles of Calvinism. His uncle intended him for
the bar ; but the law not suiting his disposition, he
spent most of his time in reading the Greek, and Latin
authors, and in composing verses. In 1539, he took
up his licentiate’s degree, and went to Paris. He fell
into snares in his youth, and wrote some licentious
things. Sickness awakened him j and he pursued a
vow, he had formerly made, of entering into the re¬
formed religion. According to this resolution, he went
to Geneva and made public profession of the reformed
religion. In 1549, he accepted of the Greek professor¬
ship at Lausanne, where he also read lectures in French
on the New Testament to the refugees of both sexes
who dwelt in that city. Having settled at Geneva, he
adhered to Calvin in the strictest manner, and became
in a little time his colleague in the church and in the
university. He was sent to Nerac, at the solicitation
of some great men of the kingdom, to convert the king
of Navarre, and to confer with him upon affairs of im¬
portance. This was when the Guises had got the au¬
thority under the reign of Francis II. to the prejudice
of the princes of the blood. The king of Navarre hav¬
ing testified, both by letters and deputies, that he desir¬
ed that Beza might assist at the conference of Poissi,
the senate of Geneva consented. The assembly hearken¬
ed attentively to his harangue, till, speaking of the
real presence, he said, that the body of Jesus Christ
was as distant from the bread and wine, as the highest
heaven is from the earth. This made a murmur: some
cried out, Blasphemavit! others got up to go away.
Cardinal de Tournon, who sat in the first place, desir¬
ed the king and queen either to silence Beza, or to
permit him and his company to withdraw. The king
did not stir, nor any of the princes; and leave was gi¬
ven to go on. Throughout the whole conference he be¬
haved himself with great ability. He often preached be¬
fore the queen of Navarre, the prince of Conde, and in
the suburbs of Paris. After the massacre of Vassi, he
was deputed to the king to complain of this violence.
The civil war followed soon after, during which the
prince of Conde kept him with him ; and while the
prince was imprisoned, he lived with Admiral de Co-
ligni, and did not return to Geneva till after the peace
1563. In 1571, he was chosen moderator at the na¬
tional synod of Rochelle : and in the year after, assisted
at that of Nismes ; after this, he assisted at the con¬
ferences of Montheliard, and at those of Bern. The
infirmities of old age beginning to fall heavy upon him
in 1597, he could seldom speak in public : and at last
he left it off entirely in the beginning of the year
1600. However, in 1597, he wrote some animated
verses against the Jesuits, on the occasion of the report
that was made of his death, and of his having before
he died made profession of the Roman faith. He lived
till the 13th of October 1605. He w'as a man of ex¬
traordinary merit, and one who did great services to the
Protestant cause. This, however, exposed him to in¬
numerable slanders and calumnies ; but he showed both
to the Catholics and Lutherans, that he understood-
how to defend himself. He wrote, I. A Translation p/CZ*
of the New Testament ; 2. Turned the Psalms into La- ||
tin verse; 3. Published a Treatise on the Sacraments; Bezoar.
4. Some Sermons on the Passion of Jesus Christ and
on Solomon’s Song; 5. A version of the Canticles, in
lyric verse ; 6. A French tragi-comedy, entitled, The
Sacrifice of Abraham ; and many other pieces.
BEZANS, cotton cloths, which come from Ben¬
gal : some are white, and others stripped with several
colours.
BEZANTLER, the branch of a deer’s horn next
below the brow-antler.
BEZOAR, in Natural History and Medicine, a ge¬
neral name for certain animal substances supposed to be
effectual in preventing the fata! consequences of poison.
The word comes from the Persian badzcher, batcher,
or pahaxar, which signifies an antidote.
The first mention made of bezoar is in Avenzoar,
an Arabian physician, who gives a very romantic ac¬
count of its origin. He describes it as generated of
the tears or gum of the eyes of stags ; who, after eat¬
ing serpents, used to run into the water up to the nose,
where they stood till their eyes began to ooze a hu¬
mour, which, collecting under the eye-lids, gradually
thickened and coagulated, till, being grown hard, it
was thrown off by the animal in rubbing frequently.
Other opinions no less fabulous obtained till the time
ot Garcias al Horto, physician to the Portuguese vice¬
roy of the Indies, who gave the first genuine account
ol it. Kempfer afterwards gave a description of it, with
some new particulars.
The bezoar is a calculous concretion found in the
stomach of certain animals of the goat kind. See
Capra. It is composed of concentrical coats sur¬
rounding one another, with a little cavity in the middle,
containing a bit of wood, straw, hair, or the like sub¬
stances.
There are two sorts of bezoar ; one brought from
Persia and the East Indies, the other from the Spanish
West Indies. The first or best sort, called oriental be-
%oar, is of a shining dark-green or olive colour, and
an even smooth surface ; on removing the outward coat,
that which lies underneath it appears likewise smooth
and shining. The occidental has a rough surface, and
less of a green colour then the foregoing ; it is likewise
much heavier, more brittle, and of a looser texture ;
the coats are thicker, and on breaking exhibit a num¬
ber of striae curiously interwoven. The oriental is ge¬
nerally less than a walnut; the occidental for the most
part larger, and sometimes as big as a goose egg. The
first is universally most esteemed, and is the only sort
now retained by the London college ; the Edinburgh,
in the edition of their pharmacopoeia preceding the pre¬
sent, directed both ; but they now seem to allow them
to be used promiscuously, retaining in their catalogue
only the name be%oar lapis.
This stone is in high esteem among the Persians, and
even of greater value than in Europe, which, witfi
sundry other circumstances needless to relate here, has
given occasion to many to suspect, that the true bezoar
is never brought to us. Some authors relate with great
confidence, that all the stones commonly sold under this
name are artificial compositions. That some of them
are so, is evident; hence the great differences in the
accounts which different persons have given of their
qualities : .
B E Z
Bo«oar. qualities: tlie stones examined by Slare as oriental be
" v~ ■ zoar did not dissolve in acids j those which Grew and
Boyle made trial of, did ; those employed by Geofi'roy
(in some experiments related in the French memoirs
1710) did not seem to be acted on by rectified spirits j
whilst some of those examined by Neumann at Berlin
almost totally dissolved therein. The common mark
of the goodness of this stone, is its striking a deep
green colour on white paper that has been rubbed with
chalk.
Bezoar was not known to the ancient Greeks, and
is first taken notice of by the Arabians (as above men¬
tioned), who extol it in a great variety of disorders,
particularly against poisons. Later writers also bestow
extraordinary commendations on it as a sudorific and
alexipharmac ; virtues to which it certainly has no pre¬
tence. It has no smell or taste, is not digestible in the
stomach of the animal in which it is found, and is scarce
capable of being acted on by any of the juices of the
human body. It cannot be considered in any other
light than as an absorbent j and is much the weakest
of all the common substances of that class. It has
been given to half a dram, and sometimes a whole
dram, without any sensible effect j though the gene¬
ral dose (on account of its great price) is only a few
grains.
Bezoar, in a more extensive sense, includes all sub¬
stances formed stratum super stratum in the stomachs or
intestines of animals j in which sense pearls, the con¬
cretions called crabs-eyes, &c. belong to the class of
bezoars. To this also belong the hippolithus, or be-
%oa?' equinitm, a stone sometimes found in the stomach
or intestines of a horse : the monkey-bezoar, a stone
said to be found in the stomachs of certain monkeys in
Brazil and the East Indies, harder than the oriental
bezoar, of a dark green colour, and very costly on ac¬
count of its scarcity.—Bezoar bovinum, is a yellowish
stone found in the ox’s gall-bladder.—Human bezoars
are stony substances found in the intestines of several
persons, formed from the stones of plums, or other
fruits, retained in the ccecum or other guts, and grow¬
ing coated over, of which we have an instance given
by Dr Cole, Phil. Trans. N° 235.—Bezoar tnicrocosmi-
cum is the same with the human calculus; and is vari¬
ous in its degrees of hardness, as well as in its size and
figure. It has been used in the place of the more costly
sorts.—As to the bezoar hystricis, a concretion found
in the gall-bladder of an Indian porcupine ; and the
German bezoar, or that found in mountain deer, espe¬
cially on the Alps ; these, not being stones, are more
properly called by late -writers egagrophilce; the for¬
mer consisting of woolly fibres, and a bitter friable
matter, having neither laminae nor membranes; the
latter being a ball of hair or herbs, or perhaps roots,
compacted in the stomach of the animal.—They are
all, as medicines, unworthy of regard.—The bezoar
bovinum, or ox bezoar, is used by miniature-painters in
several casts of yellow.
Bezoar-Mineral. See Pharmacy Index.
Fossil Bezoar, is a kind of figured stone, formed
like the animal bezoar, of several coats or strata ranged
round some extraneous body which forms a nucleus,
and supposed to have the same virtues. It is found
chiefly in Sicily, in sand and clay pits. It is of a pur¬
ple colour, with a rough surface, the size of a walnut,
[ 598 ]
B I A
found to be an irony
a fine greenish white
Be?oa
and light. When broken, it is
crust, containing in its hollow
eaith, resembling pale bezoar. ’Ihe earth is used and Bianchini,
not the shells. It seems to be of the nature of bole   
armeniac. It is called Sicilian earth.
BEZOAllDIC, an appellation given to whatever
partakes of the nature of bezoar; also compound me¬
dicines whereof bezoar makes an ingredient.
BIA, in Commerce, a name given by the Siamese
to those small shells which are called cowries through¬
out almost all the other parts of the East Indies. See
Cowries.
BliEUM, fcuutn, in Bhctoric, denotes a kind of
counter argument, whereby something alleged for the
adversary is retorted against him, and made to con¬
clude a different way: for instance, Occidisti, quia ad-
stilish interfecto.—piuiw, Immo quia adstiti interj'ecto,
non occidi; nam si id esset, in fugam me conjecissem.
“ You killed the person because you were found stand¬
ing by his body. Biceum, Rather I did not kill him
because I was found standing by his body ; since, in the
other case, I should have fled away.”
Breum, in the Grecian laws, was an action brought
against those who ravished women, or used violence to
any man’s person.
B1AFAR, or BiaFRA, a kingdom of Africa, situ¬
ated to the east of Benin, to the west of IVIedra, from
which it is divided by a chain of mountains, and ex¬
tending southward to the fourth degree of north lati¬
tude. Die natives are the most of all negroes addicted
to, and infatuated with, magic ; imagining themselves
capable of causing rain, thunder, and lightning : there¬
fore they worship the devil with great zeal, and even
sacrifice their children to him.
BIAFORA, in the customs of the middle age, a
foim of cry or alarm to arms; on the hearing whereof
the inhabitants of towns or villages were to issue forth,
and attend their prince. The word seems originally
from Gascony ; and the Italians even now on a sudden
insurrection of the people, commonly cry, Via-fora, by
an usual change of the letter B into V.
BIARCHUS, an officer in the court of the empe¬
rors of Constantinople, intrusted with the care and in¬
spection of the provisions of the soldiery.
BIALOGOROD, or Akerman, a strong town of
Bessarabia, in European Russia. It is seated on a
lake called Vidono, near the sea-side, in E. Long. 22.
50. N. Lat. 46. 24.
BI ANA, a town of Asia in Hindostan, 50 miles west
from Agra, remarkable for its excellent indigo, and
formerly for its copper mines. E. Long. 77. o. N. Lat.
26. 20.
BIANCHI, Francesco, called II Frari, an emi¬
nent painter, was born at Modena ; and had the honour
of being master to one of the most esteemed painters
that ever appeared, Antonio Corregio. His colouring
was delicately fine ; his attitudes full of grace ; and his
invention extremely grand. His works had an asto¬
nishing beauty, and are prized as highly as even those
of Corregio. He died in 1520.
BIANCHINI, Francis, one of the most learned
men of Ins time, was born at Verona in 1662, of a noble
and ancient family. His taste for natural philosophy
and mathematics induced him to establish the academy
at Aletofili, at Verona. He went to Rome in 1684 ;
and
BIB C 599 3 BIB
Bhehini an(^ was made librarian to Cardinal Ottobonl, who was
|| afterwards pope under the name of Alexander VIII.
I)le’ , He also became canon of St Mary de la Rotonda, and
^ at length of St Lawrence in Damaso. He was esteem¬
ed by the learned ; and was a member of many acade¬
mies. He published several ingenious dissertations, &c.
and di^d in 1729, aged 67.
BIAS, one of the seven sages of Greece, flourished
about 608 before Christ. He was accustomed to say,
“ It was a sickness of the mind to wish for impossible
things.” During the siege of Priene, his native city,
being asked why he was the only one who retired from
the place without carrying any thing with him, he re¬
plied, That he carried his all with him ; meaning, that
his knowledge and virtue were the only blessings that
were peculiarly his own, since they could not be taken
from him. He expired while pleading for one of his
friends.
Bias, or Biass, in a general sense, the inclination or
bent of a person’s mind to one thing more than an¬
other.—It also signifies the lead or weight put into a
bowl, that draws or turns the course of it any way to
which the bias looks.
BIBERACH, formerly a free and imperial city of
Suabia in Germany, but now included in the kingdom
of Wirtemberg. It has a large manufacture in fustians,
and is seated on the river Russ. E. Long. 10. 2. N.
Lat. 48. 4.
BIBERSBERG, a town of Upper Hungary, situ¬
ated in E. Long. 17. 25. N. Lat. 48. 35.
BIBIENA, Ferdinand Galli, an excellent paint¬
er and architect, was born at Bologna in 1657; and was
surnamed Bibiena hom a territory of that name in Tus¬
cany, in which his father was born. He acquired such
reputation by his skill in architecture, the decorations
of the theatre and perspective, that the duke of Parma
invited him to his court, and made him his first painter
and architect. Bibiena at length went to the emperor’s
court, where he had the same honours and advantages.
He wrote tw’o books of architecture j and died at Bo¬
logna, at above 80 years of age. His sons followed with
success the same professions.
BIBLE (in Greek /3i/i\os, the book'), a name applied
by Christians by way of eminence or distinction to the
collection of sacred writings, or the holy scriptures of
the Old and New Testaments ; known also by various
other appellations, as, the Sacred Books, Holy Writ,
Inspired Writings, Scriptures, &c. The Jews styled
the Bible (that is the Old Testament) mikra ; which
signifies Lesson or Lecture.
This collection of the sacred writings containing
those of the Old and New Testament, is justly looked
upon as the foundation of the Jewish as well as the
Christian religion. The Jews, it is true, acknow¬
ledged only the scriptures of the Old Testament, the
correcting and publishing of which is unanimously
ascribed, both by the Jews and Christians, to Ezra.
Some of the ancient fathers, on no other foundation
than that fabulous and apocryphal book, the second
book ot Esdras, pretend, that the scriptures were en¬
tirely lost and destroyed at the Babylonish captivity,
and that Ezra restored them all again by divine revela¬
tion. What is certain is, that in the reign of Josiah
there was no other book of the la tv extant besides that
found in the temple by Hilkiah 5 from which original,
by order of that pious king, copies were immediately
written out, and search made for all the other parts of Bible,
the scriptures, (2 Kings xxii.) 5 by which means co- —
pies of the whole became multiplied among the people,
who carried them with them into their captivity. Af¬
ter the return of the Jews from the Babylonish capti¬
vity, Ezra got together as many copies as he could of
the sacred writings, and out of them all prepared a cor¬
rect edition, disposing the several books in their proper
order, and settling the canon of scripture for his time.
These books he divided into three parts. 1. The Law,
2. The Prophets. 3. The Cetubim or Hagiographia.
1. e. The Holy Writings.
I. The Law contains, 1. Genesis. 2. Exodus. 3.
Leviticus. 4. Numbers. 5. Deuteronomy.
II. The writings of the prophets are, 1. Joshua.
2. Judges, with Ruth. 3. Samuel. 4. Kings. 5. I-
saiah. 6. Jeremiah, with his Lamentations. 7. E-
zekiel. 8. Daniel. 9. The twelve minor prophets,
10. Job. 11. Ezra. 12. Nehemiah. 13. Esther.
HI. And the Hagiographia consists of, 1. The
Psalms. 2. The Proverbs. 3. Ecclesiastes. 4. The
Song of Solomon. This division was made for the sake
of reducing the number of the sacred books to the num¬
ber of the letters in their alphabet, which amount to
22. At present, the Jews reckon 24 books in their
canon of Scripture, in disposing of which the law stands
as it did in the former division, and the prophets are
distributed into the former and latter prophets.
The former prophets are,
Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings.
The latter prophets are,
Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and the 12 minor prophetSi,
And the hagiographia consists of
The Psalms, the Proverbs, Job, the Song of Solomon,
Ruth, the Lamentations, Ecclesiastes, Esther, Daniel,
Ezra, the Chronicles.
Under the name of Ezra, they comprehend Nehe¬
miah. It is true this order hath not always been ob¬
served, but the variations from it are of little or no
moment.
The five books of the law' are divided into 54 sec¬
tions. This division many of the Jews hold to have
been appointed by Moses himself; but others, with
more probability, ascribe it to Ezra. The design of,
this division was, that one of these sections might be
read in their synagogues every sabbath-day. The num¬
ber was 54, because in their intercalated years a month
being then added, there were 54 sabbaths. In other
years, they reduced them to 52, by twice joining to¬
gether two short sections. Till the persecution of An-
tiochus Epiphanes, they read only the law ; but the
reading of it being then prohibited, they substituted in
the room of it 54 sections out of the prophets ; and
when the reading of the law was restored by the Mac¬
cabees, the section which was read every sabbath out
of the law served for their first lesson, and, the section
out of the prophets for their second These sections
were divided into verses ; of which division, if Ezra was
not the author, it was introduced not long after him,
and seems to have been designed for the use of the Tar-
gumists or Chaldee interpreters : for after the return of
the Jews from the Babylonish captivity, when the He¬
brew language ceased to be their mother tongue, and
the Chaldee grew into use instead of it, the custom was
that the law should be first read in the original He¬
brew,
B I B
B I B
BIMe.
t 600
brew, and then interpreted to the people in the Chaldee
language, (or which purpose these shorter sections or
periods were very convenient.
'I he division of the scrijitures into chapters, as we at
present have them, is of much later date. Some attri¬
bute it to Stephen Langton, archbishop of Canterbury,
in the reigns of John and Henry III. But the true
author of the invention was Hugo de Sancto Caro, com¬
monly called Hugo Cafdinalis^ becauso he was the first
Dominican that ever was raised to the degree of car¬
dinal. This Hugo flourished about the year 1240. He
wrote a comment on the scriptureSj and projected the
first concordance, which is that of the vulgar Latin Bi¬
ble. 'Ihe aim of this work being for the more easy
finding out any word or passage in the scriptures, he
found it necessary to divide the book into sections, and
the sections into subdivisions : for till that time the
vulgar Latin Bibles were without any division at all.
These sections are the chapters into which the Bible
has ever since been divided. But the subdivision of
the chapters was not then into verses, as it is now.
Hugo^s method of subdividing them was by the letters
A, B, C, D, E, F, G, placed on the margin at an
equal distance from each other, according to the length
of the chapters. Jhe subdivision of the chapters into
verses, as they now stand in our Bibles, had its origi¬
nal from a famous Jewish rabbi, named Mordecai Na¬
than, about the year 1445. This rabbi, in imitation
of Hugo Cardinalis, drew up a concordance to the He¬
brew Bible, for the use of the Jews. But though he
followed Hugo in his division of the books into chap¬
ters, he refined upon his invention as to the subdivi¬
sion, and contrived that by verses: this being found
to be a much more convenient method, it has been
ever since followed. And thus, as the Jews borrowed
the division of the books of the Holy Scriptures into
chapters from the Christians, in like manner the Chri¬
stians borrowed that of the chapters into verses from
the Jews.
The order and division of the books of the Bible, as
well of the Old as of the New Testament, according
to the disposition made by the council of Trent, by De¬
cree I. session iv. are as follow : where we are to ob¬
serve, that those books to which the asterisms are pre*
fixed, are rejected by the Protestants as apocryphal.
Genesis,
Exodus^
Leviticus,
Numbers,
Deuteronomy*
Joshua,
Judges and Ruth,
1 Samuel, or 1 Kings*
2 Samuel, or 2 Kings,
1 Kings, otherwise called 3 Kings*
2 Kings, otherwise called 4 Kings,
1 Chronicles,
2 Chronicles,
1 Esdras (as the LXX and Vulgate call it), or the
book of Ezra,
2 Esdras or (as we have it) the book of iNehemiah,
* Tobit,
* Judith,
Esther,
1 '
Job,
Psalms,
Proverbs,
Ecclesiastes,
Song of Solomon,
* The book of Wisdom,
* Ecclesiasticus,
Isaiah,
Jeremiah and *Baruch,
Ezekiel,
Daniel*
Hosea,
Joel,
Amos,
Obadiah*
Nahum, which we place immediately after Micak*
before Habakkuk,
Jonah, which we place immediately after Obadiah.
Micah,
Habakkuk*
Zephaniah*
Haggai,
Zechaiiah*
Malachi,
* 1 Maccabees,
* 2 Maccabees.
T.he btioks of the New Testament are*
St Matthew,
1 lie G°Spel of ' St Luke’
.St John.
The Acts of the Apostles,
the Romans,
the Corinthians, I.
the Corinthians, II.
the Galatians,
the Ephesians,
the Philippians,
'Ihe Epistle of the Colossians,
St Paul to } the Thessalonians, I.
the Thessalonians, IL
Timothy, I.
Timothy, II.
Titus,
Philemon,
the Hebrews.
'St James,
St Peter, I.
St Peter, II.
The general < St John, I.
Epistle of St John, IL
St John, III.
^ St Jude.
The Revelation of St John.
The apocryphal books of the Old Testament, ac^
cording to the Romanists, are* the book of Enoch (see
Jude 14.), the third and fourth books of Esdras, the
third and fourth books of Maccabees, the prayer of
Manasseh, the Testament of the twelve patriarchs, the
Psalter of Solomon, and some other pieces of this na¬
ture.
The apocryphal books of the New Testament are,
the epistle of St Barnabas, the pretended epistle of St
Paul
B I B
t
flilc. tJaul to the Laodiceans, several spurious gospels, Acts
of the Apostles, and Revelations *, the book of Hernias,
entitled the Shepherd, Jesus Christ’s Letter to Abga-
rus, the epistles of St Paul to Seneca, and several other
pieces of the like nature, as may he seen in the collec¬
tion of the apocryphal writings of the New Testament
made by Fabricius. - /
The books whic h are cited in the Old Testament, and
now lost, are these j the hook of the Righteous, or of
Jasher, as our version of the Bible has it (Josh. x. 13.
and 2 Sam. i. 18.) j the hook of the wars of the Lord,
(Numb. xxi. 14.) j the annals of the kings of Israel,
so often cited in the hooks of the Kings and Chro¬
nicles. I he authors of these annals were the prophets,
who lived in the kingdoms of Judah and Israel. We
have likewise hut a part of Solomon’s 3000 proverbs
and his 1005 songs, (x Kings iv. 32.) ; and we have
entirely lost what he wrote upon plants, animals, birds,
fishes, and reptiles.
Ezra, in the opinion of most learned men, published
the Scriptures in the Chaldee character : for that lan¬
guage being grown wholly into use among the Jews,
he thought proper to change the old Hebrew charac¬
ter for it, which hath since that time been retained on¬
ly by the Samaritans, among whom it is preserved to
this day.
Prideaux is of opinion that Ezra made additions in
several parts of the Bible, where any thing appeared
necessary for illustrating, connecting, or completing,
the work j in which he appears to have been assisted
by the same spirit in which they were first written.
Among such additions are to he reckoned the J,ast
chapter of Deuteronomy, wherein Moses seems to give
an account of his own death and burial, and the suc¬
cession of Joshua after him. To the same cause, our
learned author thinks, are to be attributed many other
interpolations in the Bible, which created difficulties
and objections to the authenticity of the sacred text, no
ways to be solved without allowing them. Ezra chan¬
ged the names of several places which were grown ob¬
solete, and instead of them put their new names, by
which they were then called,- in the text. Thus it is
that Abraham is said (0 have pursued the kings who
carried Lot away captive, as Er as Dan ; whereas that
place in Moses’s time was called Laish ; the name Dan
being unknown till the Danites, long after the death
of Moses, possessed themselves of it.
1 he Jewish canon of Scripture was then settled Ly
Ezra, yet not so but that several variations have been
made in it. Malachi, for instance, could not be put in
the Bible by him, since that prophet is allowed to have
lived after Ezra; nor could Nehemiah be there, since
mention is made in that book, of Jaddus, as high-
priest, and of Darius Codomannus, as king of Persia,
who were at least 100 years later than Ezra. It may
be added, that in the lirst hook of Chronicles, the ge
nealogy ol the sons of Zerubbabel is carried down for
so many generations as must necessarily bring it to the
time of Alexander, and consequently this book could
not be in the canon in Ezra’s days. It is probable, the
t wo books of Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, and
Malachi, were adopted into the Bible in the time of
Simon the Just, the last of the men of the great syna¬
gogue.
i he Jews, at first, were very reserved in comn.uni-
VOL. III. Part II. . f
601 ] BIB
eating their Scripture to strangers : despising and
shunning the Gentiles, they would not disclose to them
any of the treasures concealed in the Bible. We may
add, that the people bordering on the Jews, as the E-
gyptians, Phoenicians, Arabs, &e. were not very cu¬
rious to know the laws or history of a people, whom
in their turn they hated or despised. Their first ac¬
quaintance with these books was not till after the se¬
veral captivities of the Jews, when the singularity of
the Hebrew laws and ceremonies induced several to
desire a more particular knowledge of them. Jose¬
phus seems surprised to find such slight footsteps of
the Scripture-histery interspersed in the Egyptian,
Chaldean, Phoenician, and Grecian history ; and ac¬
counts for it hence, that the sacred books were not as
yet translated into Greek or other languages, and
consequently not known to the writers of those na¬
tions.
I he first version of the Bible was that of the sep-
TUAGINT into Greek, in the time of Ptolemy Phila-
delphus; though some maintain that the whole was not
then translated, but only the Pentateuch ; between
which and the other books in the version called of the
Seventy, the critics find a great diversity in point of
style and expression, as well as of accuracy.
Hebrew Bibles are either manuscript or printed.
The best manuscript Bibles are those copied by the
Jews of Spain. Those copied by the Jews of Ger¬
many are less exact, but more common. The two
kinds are easily distinguished from each other ; the
former being in beautiful characters, like the Hebrew
Bibles of Bom berg, Stephens, and Plantin : the lat¬
ter in characters like those of Munster and Gryphius.
I. Simon observes, that the oldest manuscript Hebrew
Bibles are not above six or seven hundred years old ;
nor does Rabbi Menaham, who quotes a vast number
of them, pretend that any of them exceed six hundred
years.
Dr Kennicot, in his Dissertatio Generalis prefixed
to his Hebrew Bible, p. 2r. observes, that the most
ancient manuscripts were written between the years
poo and 1100 : but though those that are the most
ancient are not more than 800 or pco years old, they
were transcribed from others oP a much more ancient
date. 'I he manuscript preserved in the Bodleian libra¬
ry is not less than 800 years old. Another manuscript,
not less ancient, is preserved in the Caesarean library at
Vienna.
The most ancient printed Hebrew Bibles are those
published by the Jews of Italy, especially of Pelaro
and Bresse. I hose of Portugal also printed some
parts of the Bible at Lisbon, before their expulsion.—
Ibis may he observed in the general, that the best
Hebrew Bibles are those printed under the inspec¬
tion of the Jews; there being so many minutiae to lie
observed, that it is scarce possible for any other to suc¬
ceed in it.
In the beginning of the 16th century Dan. Bom-
berg printed several Hebrew Bibles in folio and quar¬
to at Venice, most of which are esteemed both by the
Jews and Christians : the first in 1517, which is the
least exact, and generally goes by the name of Felix
Pratensis, the person who revised it. This edition
contains the Hebrew text, the targum, and the com¬
mentaries of several rabbins. In 1528, the same Bott-
4 G b< T!?
Bible.
BIB [ 602 ] BIB
Ribles. berg printed the folio Bible of Rabbi Bencbajim, with
v—his preface, the masoretical divisions, a preface of A-
ben Ezra, a double masora, and several various read¬
ings. The third edition was printed in 1618 5 it is
the same with the second, but much more correct.
From the former editions it was, that Buxtorf the fa¬
ther, printed his rabbinical Hebrew Bible at Basil in
1618 j which, though there are many faults in it, is
more correct than any of the former. In 1623 appear¬
ed at Venice a new edition of the rabbinical Bible by
Eeo of Modena, a rabbin of that city, who pretended
to have corrected a great number of faults in the for¬
mer edition ; but, besides that it is much inferior to
the other Hebrew Bibles of Venice, with regard to
paper and print, it has passed through the hands of the
inquisitors, who have altered many passages in the
commentaries of the rabbins.
As to Hebrew Bibles in 4to, that of R. Stephens is
esteemed for the beauty of the characters; but it is
very incorrect. Piantin also printed several beautiful
Hebrew Bibles at Antwerp: one, in eight columns,
with a preface by Arias Montanus in 1571, which far
exceeds the Complutensian in paper and print, and con¬
tents 5 this is called the Royal Bible, because it was
printed at the expence of Philip II. of Spain : another
at Geneva in 1619; besides many more of different
sizes, with and without points. Manasseh Ben Israel,
a learned Portuguese Jew, published two editions of
the Hebrew Bible at Amsterdam j the one in 410 in
1635 j the other in 8vo in 1639 : the first has two co¬
lumns, and for that reason is commodious for the
reader. In 1639, R. Jac. Lombroso published a new
edition in 4to at Venice, with small literal notes at
the bottom of each page, where he explains the He¬
brew words by Spanish words. This bible is much
esteemed by the Jews at Constantinople : in the text
they have distinguished between words where the point
carnets is to be read with a camets-katuph, that is, by
0, and not an a.
Of all the editions of the Hebrew Bible in 8vo, the
most beautiful and correct are the two of Jo. Athias, a
Jew of Amsterdam. The first, of 1661, is the best pa¬
per } but that of 1667 is the most exact} that, how¬
ever, published since at Amsterdam by Vander Hooght,
in 1705, is preferable to any of them.
After Athias, three Hebraizing Protestants, enga¬
ged in revising and publishing the Hebrew Bible, viz.
Clodius, Jablonski, and Opitius. Clodius’s edition
was published at Franckfort in 1677, in 4to. At the
bottom of the page it has the various readings of the
former editions j but the author does not appear suffi¬
ciently versed in the accenting, especially in the poeti¬
cal books j besides, as it was not published under his
eye, many faults have crept in. That of Jablonski in
1699, in 4to, at Berlin, is very beautiful as to letter
and print: but, though the editor pretends he made
use of the editions of Athias and Clodius, some critics
find it scarce in any thing different from the 4to edi¬
tion of Bomberg. That of Opitius is also in 4to at
K'eil, in 17095 the character is large and good, but
the paper bad : it is done with a great deal of care 5
but the editor made use of no manuscripts but those
of the German libraries ; neglecting the French ones,
which is an omission common to all three. They
have this advantage, however, that besides the divi-
2
sions used by the Jews, both general and partieu-
laf, into paraskes and pesakim, they have also those of J,
the Christians, or of the Latin Bibles, into chapters
and verses 5 the keir ketib, or various readings, La¬
tin summaries, &c. which made them of consider¬
able use, with respect to the Latin edition and the con¬
cordances.
The little Bible of R. Stephens, in i6to, is very
much prized for the beauty of the character. Care,
however, must be taken, there being another edition
of Geneva exceedingly like it, excepting that the print
is worse, and the text less correct. To these may be
added some other Hebrew Bibles without points, in
8vo and 2410, which hre much coveted by the Jews 5
not that they are more exact, but more portable than
the rest, and are used in their synagogues and schools:
of these there are two beautiful editions, the one of
Piantin, in 8vo, with two columns, and the other in
24to reprinted by Raphalengius at Leyden, in 1610.
There is also an edition of them by Laurence at Am¬
sterdam in 1631, in a large character 5 and another in
i2mo, at Franckfort, in 1694, full of faults, with a
preface of M. Leusden at the head of it.
Houbigant published an elegant edition of the He¬
brew Bible at Paris, in 1753, contained in four vols.
folio. The text is that of Van der Hooght, without
points, to which he has added marginal notes^supply¬
ing the variations of the Samaritan copy. Dr Kenni-
cott, after almost 20 years laborious collation of near
700 copies, manuscript and printed, either of the
whole or of particular parts of the Bible, did, in 17769
publish the first volume of the Hebrew Bible in lolio.
The text is that of Everand Van der Hooght, already
mentioned, diflering from it only in the disposition of
the poetical parts, which Dr Kennicott has printed in
hemistichs, into which they naturally divide them¬
selves 5 however, the words follow one another in the
same order as they do in the edition of Van der Hooght.
This edition is printed on an excellent type 5 the Sa¬
maritan text, according to the copy in the Lon¬
don Polyglot, is exhibited in a column parallel with
the Hebrew text 5 those parts of it only being intro¬
duced in which it differs from the Hebrew. The nu¬
merous variations both of the Samaritan manuscripts
from the printed copy of the Samaritan text, and ot
the Hebrew manuscripts from the printed text of \ an
tier Hooght, are placed separately at the bottom ot the
page, and marked with numbers referring to the copies
from which they are taken. The editor regrets, that
the dissertatio generalis, which would help to enricli
this article, is not to be published till the second volume
is ready.
Greek Bibles. There is a great number of editions
of the Bible in Greek 5 but they may be all reduced to
three or four principal ones, viz. that of Complutujn,
or Alcala de Henares, that of Venice, that of Rome,
and that of Oxford. The first was published in 15159
by Cardinal Ximenes, and inserted in the Polyglot
Bible, usually called the Complytensian Bible: this edi¬
tion is not just, the Greek of the Seventy being altered
in many places according to the Hebrew text. It has,
however, bqen reprinted in the Polyglot Bible of Ant¬
werp, in that of Paris, and in the 410 Bible, commonly
called Vat ably s'1 s Bible.
The second Greek Bible is that of Venice, printed
by
BIB [ 603 ] BIB
bit-, by Aldus in 1518. Here the Greek text of the Sep-
tiiagint is reprinted just as it stood in the manuscript,
full of faults of tbe copyists, but easily amended. This
edition was reprinted at Strasburg in 1526, at Basil in
I $45, at Frankfort in 1597, and other places, with
Some alterations to bring it nearer the Hebrew. The
most commodious is that of Frankfort; there being ad¬
ded to this .little sc/zo/f«, which show the different in¬
terpretations of the old Greek translators : the author
of this collection has not added his name, but it is
commonly ascribed to Junius.
The third Greek Bible is that of Rome, or the Va¬
tican, in 1587, with Greek scholia collected from the
manuscripts in the Roman libraries by Pet. Morin. It
was first set on foot by Cardinal Montalbo, afterwards
Pope Sixtus Quintus. This fine edition has been re¬
printed at Paris 1628 by J. Morin, priest of the ora¬
tory, who has added the Latin translation, which in the
Homan was printed separately with scholia. The Greek
edition of Rome has been printed in the Polygot Bible
of London ; to which are added, at bottom, the various
readings of the Alexandrian manuscript. This has been
also reprinted in England in 4to and i2mo, with some
alterations. It has been again published at Franeker in
3709 by Bos, who has added all the various readings he
could find.
The fourth Greek Bible is that done from the Alex¬
andrian manuscript, begun at Oxford by Dr Grabe in
1707. In this the Alexandrian manuscript is not
printed such as it is, but such as it xvas thought it
should be j i. e. it is altered wherever there appeared
any fault of the copyists, or any word inserted from
any particular dialect : this some think an excellence,
but others a fault j urging that the manuscript should
have been given absolutely and entirely of itself, and
all conjectures as to the readings should have been
thrown into the notes.
Latin Bibles, how numerous soever, may be all re¬
duced to three classes ; the ancient vulgate, called also
Italica, translated from the Greek Septuagint; the
modern vulgate, the greatest part of which is done
from the Hebrew text; and the new Latin translations,
done also from the Hebrew text, in the 16th century.
We have nothing remaining of the ancient vulgate,
used in the primitive times in the western churches,
but the Psalms, Wisdom, and Ecclesiastes. Nobilius
lias endeavoured to retrieve it from the works of the
ancient Latin fathers; but it was impossible to do it ex¬
actly, because most of the fathers did not keep close to
it in their citations.
As to the modern vulgate, there is a vast number
of editions very different from each other. Cardinal
Ximenes has inserted one in the Bible of Complutum,
corrected and altered in many places. R. Stephens
and the doctors of Louvain have taken great pains in
correcting the modern vulgate.
The best edition of Stephens’s Latin Bible is that of
1540, reprinted in 1545, in which are added on the
margin the various readings of several Latin manu¬
scripts which lie had consulted. The doctors of Lou¬
vain revised the modern vulgate after R. Stephens ; and
added the various readings of several Latin manuscripts.
The best of the Louvain editions are those at the end
of which are added the critical notes of Francis Lucas
of Bruges.
All these reformations of the Latin Bible were made
before the time of Pope Sixtus V. and Clement ATII.
since which people have not dared to make any altera¬
tions, excepting in comments and separate notes.
The correction of Clement VIII. in 1592, is now the
standard throughout all the Romish churches : that
pontiff made two reformations; but it is the first of
them that is followed. From this the Bibles of Plan-
tin were done, and from those of Plantin all the rest;
so that the common Bibles have none of (he after cor¬
rections of the same Clement VIII. It is a heavy
charge that lies on the editions of Pope Clement, viz.
that they have some new texts added, and many old
ones altered, to countenance and confirm what they
call the Catholic doctrine; witness that celebrated
passage of St John, trcs sunt, &c. There are a great
number of Latin Bibles of the third class, comprehend¬
ing the versions from the originals of the sacred books
made within these 200 years. The first is that of
Santes Pagninus, a Dominican, under the patronage of
Pope Leo X- printed at Lyons, in 4to, in 1527, much
esteemed by the Jews. This the author improved in a
second edition. In 1542, there was a beautiful edition
of the same at Lyons, in folio, with scholia, published
under the name oi Michael Villanovanus, i. e. Michael
Servetus, author of the scholia. Those of Zurich have
likewise published an edition of Pagninus’s Bible in
4to ; and R. Stephens reprinted it in folio, with the
vulgate, in 1557, pretending to give it more correct
than in the former editions. There is also another edi¬
tion of 1586, in four columns, under the name of Va-
tahlus : and we find it again in the Hamburgh edition
of the Bible in four languages.
In the number of Latin Bibles is also usually ranked
the version of the same Pagninus corrected, or rather
rendered literal, by Arias Montanus; which correction
being approved of by the doctors of Louvain, &c. was
inserted in the Polyglot Bible of Philip II. and since in
that of London. There have been various editions of
this in folio, 4to, and 8vo ; to which have been added
the Hebrew text of the Old Testament, and the Greek
of t.ie N ew. The best of them all is the first, which
is in folio, 1571.
Since the Reformation there have been several La¬
tin versions of the Bible from the originals by Pro¬
testants. The most esteemed are those of Munster,
Leo Juda, Castalio, and Tremellius; the three last
whereof have been reprinted various times. Munster
published his version at Basil in 1534, which he after¬
wards revised ; he published a correct edition in 1546.
Castalio’s fine Latin pleases most people; but there are
some who think it too much affected ; the best edition
thereof is that in 1573. Leo Juda’s version, altered a
little by the divines of Salamanca, was added to the an¬
cient Latin edition, as published by R. Stephens, with
notes, under the name of Vatablus's Bible, in 1545. It
was condemned by the Parisian divines, but printed with
some alterations by the Spanish divines of Salamanca,
That of Junius and Tremellius is preferred, especially by
the Calvinists, and has undergone a great number of
editions.
One may add a fourth class of Latin Bibles, com¬
prehending the vulgate edition corrected from the ori¬
ginals. The Bible of Isidorus Clams is of this number:
that author, not being contented with restoring the
4 G 2 ancient
[ 6c4 ] BIB
anuent Ijatin copy, has corrected the translator in a
great number ol places, which lie thought ill rendered.
Some jl rotestants have followed the same method ; and
among others, Andrew and Ijitke Osiander, who have
each published a new edition of the vulgate, corrected
from the originals.
Oriental Bibles.—At the head of the Oriental ver¬
sions ot the Bible must be placed the Samaritan ; as
being the most ancient of all, though neither its age
nor author have been yet ascertained, and admitting
no more for holy scripture but the Pentateuch, or five
books of Moses. This translation is made from the
Samaritan Hebrew text, which is a little different from
jhe Hebrew text of the Jews. This version has never
oeen printed alone ; nor anywhere but in the Polyglots
of London and Paris.
Chaldee Bibles, are only the glosses or expositions
made by the Jews in the time when they spake the
Chaldee tongue. These they call by the name of Tar-
gumim, or paraphrases, as not being any strict versions
m the Scripture. They have been inserted entire in
the large .Hebrew Bibles of Venice and Basil ; but are
read more commodiously in the Polyglots, bein«- there
attended with a Jvatjn translation.
^ Syriac Bibles.— I here are extant two vex'sions of
toe Old lestament in the Syriac language : one from
<.ne Septuagint, which is ancient, and made probably
about the time of Constantine ; the other called antiqua
tt simplex,- made from the Hebrew, as some suppose,
about the time of the apostles. I his version is printed
in the Polyglots of London and Paris.
^ In the year 1562, Widmanstadius printed the whole
Ibew -Testament in Syriac, at Vienna, in a beautiful
character : after him there were several other editions 5
and it was inserted in the Bible of Philip II. with a
Latin translation. Gabriel Sionita also published a
beautiful Syriac edition of the Psalms, at Paris, in
I525? vv*th a Latin interpretation.
. Arabic Bibles.—In the year 1516, Aug. Justinian,
bishop of Nebio, printed at Genoa an Arabic version
of the Psalter, with the Hebrew text and Chaldee
paraphrase, adding Latin interpretations. There are
also Arabic versions of the whole Scriptures in the Poly¬
glots of London and Paris; and we have an edition of
the Old lestament entire, printed at Home in J6yi,
by order of the congregation de propaganda fide ; but
it is of little esteem, as having been altered agreeably
to the vulgate edition. i he Arabic Bibles among us
are not the same with those used with the Christians
in the east. Some learned men take the Arabic ver¬
sion of the Old Testament, printed in the Polyglots,
to be that of Saadias, who lived about the year poo ;
at least in the main. Their reason is, that Alien Ezra,
.1 gitut antagonist of Saadias, quotes some passages of
his version, which are the same with those in the Ara¬
bic version of the Polyglots ; yet others are of opinion,
that Saadias’s version is not extant. In 1622, Erpe-
nius printed an Arabic Pentateuch, called also the Pen¬
tateuch of Mauritania, as being made by the Jews of
Barbary, and for their use. This version is very lite¬
ral, and esteemed very exact. The four Evangelists
have also been published in Arabic, with a Latin ver¬
sion, at Rome, in i59I> folio- These have been since
reprinted in the Polyglots of London and Paris, with
^ some little alterations of Gabriel Sionita, Erpenius
3
published an xirabi.c New Testament entire, as he found
it in his manuscript copy, at Leyden, in 1616.
There are some other Arabic versions of late date
mentioned by Walton in his Prolegomena ; particularly
a version of the Psalms preserved in Sion College, Lon¬
don, and another of the Prophets at Oxford : neithei*of
which have been published.
Cophtic Bibles.— I here are several manuscript co¬
pies of the Cophtic Bible in some of the great libraries
especially in that of the French king. Dr Wilkins pub¬
lished the Cophtic New Testament in 4to in the year
1716, and the Pentateuch also in 4toin 1731, with La¬
tin translations. He reckons these versions to have
been made in the end of the second, or the beginning
of the third century.
Ethiopia Bibles.-—I he Lthiopians have also trans¬
lated the Bible into their language. There have been
printed separately, the Psalms, Canticles, some chapters
of Genesis, Ruth, Joel, Jonah, Zephaniah, Maiachi,
and the New Testament ; all which have been since re-
piinted 111 the 1 olyglot of London. As to the Ethiopic
New Testament, which was first printed at Rome in
i548, it is a verv inaccurate work, and is reprinted in
the English Polyglot with all its faults.
_ Armenian Bibles.—There is a very ancient Arme¬
nian version of the whole Bible, done from the Greek
of the Seventy, by some of their doctors about the time
of Chrysostom. This was first printed entire in 1664,
by one of their bishops at Amsterdam, in 4to ; with the
New Testament in 8vo.
Persian Bibles.—Some of the fathers seem to say,
that all the Scripture was formerly translated into the
language of the Persians ; but we have nothing now re¬
maining of the ancient vtrsion, which was certainly
done from the Septuagint. The Persian Pentateuch
printed in the London Polyglot is, without doubt, the
work of Rabbi Jacob, a Persian Jew. It was publish¬
ed by the Jews at Constantinople, in the year 1551.
In the same Polyglot we have likewise the four Evan¬
gelists in Persian, with a Latin translation ; but this
appears very modern, incorrect, arid of little use.
Wilton says this version was written above 400 years
ago. Another version of the Gospels was published at
Cambridge by Wheloc in the last century : there are
also two Persian versions of the Psalms made in the
last century from the vulgar Latin.
Gothic Bibles.—It is generally said that Ulphilas,
a Gothic bishop, who lived in the fourth century, made
a version ot the whole Bible, excepting the book ot
Kings, for the use of bis countrymen. That book he
omitted, because of the frequent mention of the wars
therein ; as fearing to inspire too much of the military
genius into that people. We have nothing remaining
of this version but the four Evangelists, printed in 4to,
at Dort, in 1665, fr°m a very ancient MS.
Whilst the Roman empire subsisted in Europe, the.
reading of the Scriptures in the Latin tongue, which
was the universal language of that empire, prevailed
everywhere. But since the face of affairs in Europe
has been changed, and so many different monarchies
erected upon the ruins of the Roman empire, the Latin
tongue has by degrees grown into disuse : whence has
arisen a necessity of translating the Bible into the re¬
spective languages of each people; and this has produ-
BIB t 6°S ] BIB
gle*. ced as many different versions of the Scriptures in the
^ modern languages, as there are different nations pro¬
fessing the Christian religion. Hence vve meet with
French, Italian, Spanish, German, Flemish, Danish,
Sclavonian, Polish, Bohemian, and Russian or Musco¬
vite Bibles; besides the Anglo-Saxon, and modern
English and Irish Bibles.
French Bibles. The oldest French Bible we hear
of is the version of Peter de Vaux, chief of the Vv al-
denses, who lived about the year 1160. Raoul de Pivsle
translated the Bible into French in the reign of Charles
V. king of France, about the year 1380. Besides these,
there are several old French translations of particular
> parts of the Scripture. The doctors of Louvain pub¬
lished the Bible in French at Louvain, by order of the
emperor Charles V. in 1550. There is a version by I-
saac le Maitre de Sacy, published in 1672, with expla¬
nations of the literal and spiritual meaning of the text,
which was received with wonderful applause, and has
been often reprinted, As to the New Testaments in
. French, which have been printed separately, one of the
most remarkable is that of F. Amelotte of the oratory,
composed by the direction of some French prelates, and
printed with annotations in the years 1666, 1667, and
1670. The author pretends he had been at the pains
to search all the libraries in Europe, and collate the
oldest manuscripts. But, in examining his work, it ap¬
pears that he has produced no considerable various read¬
ings, which had not before been taken notice of either
in the London Polyglot or elsewhere. The New Te¬
stament of Mens, printed in 1665, with the archbishop
of Cambray’s permission, and the king of Spain’s li¬
cense, made a great noise in the world. It was con¬
demned by Pope Clement IX. in 1668, and by Pope
Innocent XL in 1679, a11^ ,n several bishoprics of
France at several times. The New Testament publish¬
ed at Trevoux in 1702, by M. Simon, with literal and
critical annotations upon difficult passages, was con¬
demned by the bishops of Paris and Meaux in 1702. F.
Bohours, a Jesuit, with the assistance of F. F. Michael
Tellier and Peter Bernier, Jesuits likewise, published
a translation of the New Testament in 1697 : but this
translation is, for the most part, harsh and obscure,
which was owing to the author’s keeping too strictly to
the Latin text from which he. translated,
There are likewise French translations published by
Protestant authors •, one by Robert Peter Olivetan,
printed at Geneva in 1535, and since often reprinted
with the corrections of .lohn Calvin and others j ano¬
ther by Sebastian Castalio, remarkable for particular
ways of expression never used by good judges of the
language. John Diodati likewise published a French
Bible at Geneva in 1644 i *ult sonie find fault with his
method, in that he rather paraphrases the text than
translates it. Faber Stapalensis translated the New Te¬
stament into French, which was revised and accommo¬
dated to the use of the reformed churches in Piedmont,
and printed in 1534- Lastly, M. John le Clerc pub¬
lished a New Testament in French at Amsterdam in
1703, with annotations taken chiefly from Grotius and
Hammond ; but the use of this version was prohibited
in Holland bv order of the States-General, as tending
to revive the errors of Sabellius and Socinus.
Italian Bibles. The first Italian Bible published by
t*he Romanists is that of Nicholas Malerme, a Bene¬
dictine monk, printed at venice in I471* L was trans- Bible*.
lated from the Vulgate. The version of Anthony Brn- v /—
cioli, published at Venice in 1^32, was prohibited by
the Council of Trent. The Calvinists likewise have
their Italian Bibles. There is one of John Diodati in
1607 and 1641, and another of Maximus Theopliilus *
in 1551, dedicated to Francis de Medicis duke of Tus¬
cany. The Jews of Italy have no entire version of the
Bible in Italian ; the inquisition constantly refusing to
allow them the liberty of printing one.
Spanish Bibles. The first Spanish Bible that we hear
of is that mentioned by Cyprian de Valera, which he
says was published about the year 1500. The Epistles
and Gospels were published in that language by Am¬
brose de Montesin in 1512; the whole Bible by Cassio-
dore de Reyna, a Calvinist, in 1569 j and the New Te¬
stament, dedicated to the emperor Charles V. by Fran¬
cis Fnzinas, otherwise called Driander, in 1543. The
first Bible which was printed in Spanish for the use of
the Jews was that printed at Ferrara in 1553, in Go¬
thic characters, and dedicated to Hercules d’Est duke
of Ferrara. This version is very ancient, and was pro¬
bably in use among the Jews of Spain before Ferdi¬
nand and Isabella expelled them out of their dominions
in 1492.
German Bibles. The first and most ancient transla¬
tion of the Bible in the German language is that of
Ulphilas bishop of the Goths, about the year 360. This
bishop left out the hook of Kings, which treats chiefly
of war, lest it should too much encourage the martial
humour of the Goths, An imperfect manuscript of this
version was found in the abbey of Verden near Cologne,
written in letters of silver, for which reason it is called
Codex Argenteus ; and it was published by. Francis Ju¬
nius in 1665. The oldest German printed Bible extant
is that of Nuremberg, printed in 14475 hut who the
author of it was is uncertain. John Emzer, chaplain to
George duke of Saxony, published a version of the
New Testament in opposition to Luther. There is a
German Bible of John Eckius in 1537, with Emzer’s
New Testament added to it •, and one by Ulembergius
of Westphalia, procured by Ferdinand duke of Bavaria,
and printed in 1630. Martin Luther having employed
eleven years in translating the Old and New Testament,
published the Pentateuch in 1552, the historical books
and the Psalms in 1524, the hooks of Solomon in 15275
Isaiah in 1529, the Prophets in 1531, and the other
books in 1 530 : he published the New 'Testament in
1522. The learned agree, that his language is pure,
and the version clear and free from intricacies : it was
revised bv several persons of quality, who were masters
of all the delicacies of the German language. The Ger¬
man Bibles which have been printed in Saxony, Swit¬
zerland, and elsewhere, are for the most part the same
with that of Luther, with very little variation. In
1604 John Piscator published a version of the Bible in
German, taken from that of Junius and Tremellius : but
his turn of expression is purely Latin, and not at all
agreeable to the genius of the German language : the
Anabaptists have a German Bible printed at Worms in
1529. John Crellius published his version of the New
Testament at Racovia in 1630; and Felbinger his at ,
Amsterdam in 1660.
Flemish Bibles. The Flemish Bibles of the Roma¬
nists are very numerous, and for the most part have no
authoi 4 ,
BIB [6
Bibles, author’s name prefixed to them, till that of Nicolas
■—'V——' Vinck, printed at Louvain in 1548. The Flemish ver¬
sions made use of by the Calvinists till the year 1637,
were copied principally from that of Luther. But
the synod of Dort having in 1618 appointed a new
translation of the bible into Flemish, deputies were
named for the work, which was not finished till the year
DanishBiju.es. The first Danish Bible was published
by 1 eter Palladius, Olaus Chrysostom, John Syningius,
and John Maccabasus, in 1550, in which they followed
Luther’s first German version. There are two other
versions, the one by John Paul Resenius bishop of Zea¬
land, in 1605 j the other, being the New Testament
only, by John Michel, in 1524.
Swedish Bibi.e. In 1534 01aus and Laurence pub¬
lished a Swedish Bible from the German version of
Martin Luther. It was revised in 1617, by order of
King Gustavos Adolphus, and was afterwards almost
universally received.
Bohemian, Polish, Bussian or Muscovite, and Sclavo-
man Billes. The Bohemians have a Bible translated
by eight of their doctors, whom they had sent to the
schools of Wirtemberg and Basil, on purpose to study
the original languages. It was printed in Moravia in
the year 1539. The first Polish version of the Bible,
it is said, was that composed by Uadewich wife of Ja-
gellon duke of Lithuania, who embraced Christianity
in the year 139°* f’1 1599 there was a Polish transla¬
tion of the Bible published at Cracow, which was the
_ work of several divines of that nation, and in which
James Wieck, a Jesuit, had a principal share. The
Protestants, in 1596, published a Polish Bible from
Luther’s German version, and dedicated it to Uladislaus
IV . king of Poland. Ihe Russians or Muscovites pub¬
lished the Bible in their language in 1581. It was
translated from the Greek by St Cyril, the apostle of
the Slavonians ; but this old version being too obscure,
Lrnest Gluk, who had been carried prisoner to Moscow
after the taking of Narva, undertook a new translation
of the Bible into Sclavonian ; who dying in 1705, the
C/.ar Peter appointed some particular divines to finish
the translation : but whether it was ever printed, we
cannot say.
English Saxon Bibles. If we inquire into the ver¬
sions of the Bible of our own country, we shall find
that Adelm bishop of Shireborn, who lived in 709,
made an English Saxon version of the Psalms \ and that
Eadfrid, or Ecbert, b shop of Lindisferne, who lived
about the year 730, translated.several of the books of
Scripture into the same language. It is said likewise,
that Venerable Bede, who died in 785, translated the
whole Bible into Saxon. But Cuthbert, Bede’s dis¬
ciple, in the enumeration of his master’s works, speaks
only of his translation of the Gospels ; and says nothing
ot tiie rest of the Bible. Some pretend, that King Al¬
fred, who lived in 890, translated a great part of the
Scriptures. We find an old version in the Anglo-Saxon
of several books of the Bible, made by Elfric abbot of
Malmesbury: it was published at Oxford in 1699.
Uiere is an old Anglo-Saxon version of the four Gos¬
pels, published by Matthew Parker archbishop of Can¬
terbury in 1571, the author whereof is unknown. Dr
Biili observes, that this version was made from a Latin
copy of the old Vulgate.
-6 ] BIB
Saxon Bibles. The whole Scripture is said by some
to have been translated into the Anglo-Saxon by Bede
about the year 701, though others contend he only
translated the Gospels.
We have certain books or parts of the Bible by se¬
veral other translators ; as, 1. The Psalms, by Adelm
bishop of Shireborn, contemporary with Bede ; tliouoh
by others this version is attributed to King Alfred, who
lived 200 years after. Another version of the Psalms
in Anglo-Saxon was published by Spelman in 1640.
2. The Evangelists, still extant, done from the ancient
vulgate, before it was revised by St Jerome, by an au¬
thor unknown, and published by Matth. Parker in
I57I- °ld Saxon version of several books of the
Bible, made by Ettric abbot of Malmesbury, several
fragments of which were published by Will. Lilly in
1638, the genuine copv by Edm. Thwaites in 1600.
at Oxford.
Indian Bible. A translation of the Bible into the
North American Indian language, by Elliot, was pub¬
lished in 4to at Cambridge in 1685.
English Bibles. The first English Bible we read
of was that translated by J. Wickliffe about the year
136° ; but never printed, though there are MS. copies
ol it in several of the public libraries. J. de Trevisa,
who died about the year 1398, is also said to have trans¬
lated the whole Bible ; but whether any copies of it are
remaining, does not appear.
hndaPs. The first printed Bible in our language
was that translated by Wil. Tindal, assisted by Miles
Coyerdale, printed abroad in 1526; but most of the
copies were bought up and burnt by Bishop Tunstal
and Sir I homas More. It only contained the New
Testament, and was revised and republished by the same
person in 1530. The prologues and prefaces added to
it reflect on the bishops and clergy j hut this edition
was also suppressed, and the copies burnt. In 1532,
Tindal and his associates finished the whole Bible ex¬
cept the Apocrypha, and printed it abroad : but while
he was afterwards preparing for a second edition, he
was taken up and burnt for heresy in Flanders.
Matthews’s. On Tindal’s death, his work was car¬
ried on by Coverdale, and John Rogers superintendant
ol an English church in Germany, and the first martyr
in the reign ol Queen Mary, who translated the Apo¬
crypha, and revised findal’s translation, comparing it
with the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and German, and add¬
ing prefaces and notes from Luther’s Bible. He dedi¬
cated the whole to Henry VIII. in 1537, under the
borrowed name of Thomas Matthews j whence this has
been usually called Matthews'1 s Bible. It was printed
at Hamburgh, and license obtained for publishing it in
England by the favour of Archbishop Cranmer and the
bishops Latimer and Shaxton.
Cranmer's. The first Bible printed by authority in
England, and publicly set up in churches, was the
same lindal’s version, revised, compared with the He¬
brew, and in many places amended, by Miles Cover-
dale afterwards bishop of Exeter ; and examined after
him by Archbishop Cranmer, who added a preface to
it: whence this was called Cranmer'* Bible. It was
printed by Grafton, of the largest volume, and pub¬
lished in 1540; and, by a royal proclamation, every
parish was obliged to set one of the copies in their
church, under the penalty of 40s. a-month 3 yet, two
years
BIB [ 607 ] BIB
rs. years after, the Popish bishops obtained its suppression
—of the king. It was restored under Edward VI. sup¬
pressed again under Queen Mary, and restored again in
the first year of Queen Elizabeth, and a new edition of
it given in 1 ^62.
Geneva.—Some English exiles at Geneva in Queen
Mary’s reign, Coverdale, Goodman, Gilbie, Sampson,
Cole, Whittingham, and Knox, made a new transla¬
tion, printed there in 1560, the New Testament ha¬
ving been printed in 1557 j hence called the Geneva
Bib/e ; containing the variations of readings, marginal
annotations, &c. on account of which it was much va¬
lued by the puritan party in that and the following
reigns.
Bishops.—Archbishop Parker resolved on a new
translation for the public use of the church, and enga¬
ged the bishops and other learned men to take each a
share or portion. These being afterwards joined toge¬
ther, and printed with short annotations in 1568, in a
large folio, made what was afterwards called the Great
English Bible, and commonly the Bishops Bible. The
following year it was also published in 8vo, in a small
but fine black letter : and here the chapters were di¬
vided into verses : but without any breaks for them, in
which the method of the Geneva Bible was followed,
which was the first English Bible where any distinction
of verses was made. It was afterwards printed in large
folio, with corrections, and several prolegomena, in
1572: this is called Mattheiv Pat'ker's Bible. The
initial letters of each translator’s name were put at the
end of his part: e. gr. at the end of the Pentateuch,
W. E. for William Exon ; that is, William bishop of
Exeter, whose allotment ended there *, at the end of
Samuel, R. M. for Richard Menevensis, or bishop of
St David’s, to whom the second allotment fell : and
the like of the rest. The archbishop oversaw, direct¬
ed, examined, and finished the whole. This transla¬
tion was used in the churches for 40 years, though the
Geneva Bible was more read in private houses, being
printed above 30 times in as many years. King James
bore it an inveterate hatred on account of the notes j
which at the Hampton-court conference he charged as
partial, untrue, seditious, &c. The Bishops Bible too
had its faults. The king frankly owned he had yet
seen no good translation of the Bible in English ; but
he thought that of Geneva the worst of all.
Bhemish.—After the translation of the Bible by the
bishops, two other private versions had been made of
the New Testament : The first by Laur. Thomson,
made from Beza’s Latin edition, together with the
notes of Beza, published in 1582 in 410, and after¬
wards in 1589, varying very little from the Geneva
Bible ; the second by the Papists at Rheims in 1584,
called the Bhemish Bible, or Bhemish Translation.
These finding it impossible to keep the people from ha¬
ving the Scriptures in the vulgar tongue, resolved to
give a version of their own as favourable to their cause
as might be. It was printed on a large paper, with a
lair letter and margin. One complaint against it was
its retaining a multitude of Hebrew and Greek words
untranslated, for want, as the editors express it, of pro¬
per and adequate terms in the English to render them
by as the words a%ymes, tunike, rational, holocaust,
prepuce, pasche, &c. Hovever, many of the copies
were seized by the queen’s searchers, and confiscated j
and Th. Cartwright was solicited by Secretary Walsing- Bibles,
ham to refute it: but after a good progress made there- —v-"*
in, Archbishop Whitgift prohibited his further pro¬
ceeding thereing, as judging it improper the doctrine of
the church of England should be committed to the de¬
fence of a puritan, and appointed Dr Fulke in his place,
who refuted the Rhemists with great spirit and learn¬
ing. Cartwright’s refutation was also afterwards pu¬
blished in 1618, under Archbishop Abbot. About 30
years after their New Testament, the Roman Catholics
published a translation of the Old at Doway, in 1609
and 1610, from the vulgate, with annotations ; so that
the English Roman Catholics have now the whole Bible
in their mother-tongue j though it is to be observed,
they are forbidden to read it without a license from their
superiors.
King James's.—The last English Bible was that
which proceeded from the Hampton-court conference
in 1603, where many exceptions being made to the
Bishops Bible, King James gave orders for a new
one *, not, as the preface expresses it, for a translation
altogether new, nor yet to make of a bad one a good
one, but to make a good one better, or of many good
ones one best. Fifty-four learned persons were ap¬
pointed for this office by the king, as appears by his
letter to the archbishop, dated in 1604; which being
three years before the translation was entered upon, it
is probable seven of them were either dead or had de¬
clined the task, since Fuller’s list of the translators
makes but 47 *, who being ranged under six divisions,
entered on their province in 1607. It was published in
1613, with a dedication to James, and a learned preface,
and is commonly called King James's Bible. After
this, all the other versions dropped and fell into disuse,
except the Epistles and Gospels in the Common Prayer
Book, which were still continued according to the Bi¬
shops translation till the alteration of the liturgy in
1661, and the Psalms and Hymns, which are to this
day continued as in the old version.
The judicious Selden in his Table Talk, speaking
of the Bible, says, “ The English translation of the
Bible is the best translation in the world, and renders
the sense of the original best, taking in for the English
translation the Bishops Bible, as well as King James’s. ,
The translators in King James’s time took an excellent
way. That part of the Bible was given to him who
was most excellent in such a tongue (as the Apocrypha
to Andrew Downs), and then they met together, and
one read the translation, the rest holding in their hands
some Bible either of the learned tongues, or French,
Spanish, Italian, &c. If they found any fault, they
spoke ; if not, he read on.”
King James’s Bible is that now read by authority in
all the churches in Britain.
Welch Bibles.—There was a Welch translation of
the Bible made from the original in the time of Queen
Elizabeth, in consequence of a bill brought into the
house of commons for this purpose in 1563. It was
printed in folio in 1588. Another version, which is
the standard translation for that language, was printed
in 1620. It is called Parry's Bible. An impression
of this w'as printed in 1690, called Bishop Lloyd's Biblea
These were in folio. The first 8vo impression of the
Welch Bible was made in 1630.
Irish Bible.—Towards the middle of the 16th cen-
tury, ,
BIB [ 608 ] BID
Bible Bedell, bishop of Kilmore, set on foot a transla-
fl tion of the Old Testament into the Irish language j the
Bibliothe- Jsfew Testament and the Liturgy having been before
■... - ' ,. translated into tliat language. The bishop appointed
one King to execute this work, who not understand¬
ing the oriental languages, was obliged to translate it
from the English. This work was revised by Bedell,
who, after having compared the Irish translation with
the English, compared the latter with the Hebrew, the
LXX. and the Italian version of Diodati. When this
work was finished, the bishop would have been himself
at the charge of the impression, but his design was
stopped upon advice given to the lord lieutenant and
the archbishop of Canterbury, that it would prove a
shameful thing for a nation to publish a Bible translat¬
ed by such a despicable hand as King. However, the
manuscript was not lost, for it went to press in the year
l685’
Erse Biblk.—There is also (lately finished at Edin-
burgh) a version of the Bible in the Gaelic or Erse
language.
BIBLIANHER, 7'heodore, professor of divinity
at Zurich in the 16th century. As he understood the
oriental languages, be set about a new edition of the
Koran ; the text of which he corrected, by collating the
Arabic and Latin copies. To this edition he subjoined
the life of Mahomet and bis successors j and prefixed
au apology by way of preface, which has been loudly
exclaimed against.
BIBLIOGRAPH1A, a branch of archaeographia,
employed in the judging and perusing of ancient ma¬
nuscripts, whether written in books,*on paper or parch¬
ment.
The sense of it is now extended 5 and it signifies a
work intended to give information concerning the first
or best editions of books, and the ways of selecting
and distinguishing them properly. In short, it is used
for a nothin or description of printed books, either in
the order o( the alphabet, of the times when printed,
or of the subject matters. In which sense it is nearly
the same as biliotheca. See Bibliography, Supple¬
ment.
Literary journals afford also a kind of bibliographia.
BIBLIOMANCA, a kind of divination performed
by means of the Bible. This amounts to much the
same with what is otherwise called sortes biblic(e or sor-
tes sanvtorvm. It consisted in taking passages of Scrip¬
ture at hazard, and drawing indications thence con¬
cerning tilings future ; as in Augustine’s tolle et lege.
It was much used at the consecration of bishops.—
1. J. Davidius, a Jesuit, has published a bibliomancy
under the borrowed name of Veridicus Christianus.
BIBLIOTHECA, in its original and proper sense,
denotes a library or place for depositing hooks.
Bibliotheca, in matters of literature, denotes a
treatise giving an account of all the Writers on a cer¬
tain subject : thus we have bibliothecas of theology,
law, philosophy, &c.
There are likewise universal bibliothecas, which treat
indifferently of all kinds of books ; also select biblio¬
thecas, which give account of none but authors of repu¬
tation. v.
Many of the bibliothecas agree, in most respects,
with what are otherwise called memoirs or journals of
literature^ except that these last are confined to new
books j but there are other bibliothecas, that differ in Bibliotit
nothing from catalogues of the writers on certain sub- ca "
jects. H
BIBLISTS. So the Roman Catholics call those
Christians who make Scripture the sole rule of faith ,
in which sense, all Protestants either are or ought to he
biblists.
BIBLUS, fi&Aos, in Botany, an aquatic plant in E-
gypt, called also cf the skin whereof the an¬
cient Egyptians made their paper. See Papyrus.
BIBRACTE, in Ancient (Geography, a citadel of the
iEdui, according to Strabo ; but Caesar describes it as
a town well fortified, very large and populous, and of
the greatest authority among that nation: Now Beurectj
or Bevray ; a desolate place four miles to the north-west
of Autun.
BIBROCI, in Ancient Geography, an ancient people
of Britain : Now the Hundred oj'Bray in Berks.
BICANER, a city of Asia, on the river Ganges,
in the northern part of Hindostan. E. Long. 87. 20;
N. Lat. 28. 40.
BICE, or Bise, among painters, a blue colour pre¬
pared from the lapis armenus.
Bice bears the best body ef all bright blues used in
common work, as house-painting, &c. but it is the
palest in colour. It works indifferently well, hut in¬
clines a little to sandy, and therefore requires good
grinding.
BICEPS, the name of several muscles : as the biceps
bumeii, or cuhiti j biceps tibiae j &c. See Anatomy,
Table of the Muscles.
BICESTER, a straggl ing town of Oxfordshire in
England, seated on the road between Oxford and Buck¬
ingham.
BICHAT, Marie E rancois Xavier, an eminent
French physiologist* See Supplement.
BIGHET, a quantity or measure of corn, which
differs according to the places where it is used. The
bichet is not a wooden measure, as the minot at Paris,
or the bushel at London ; but it is compounded of seve¬
ral certain measures. It is used in many parts of
France, &c.
BICLINIUM, in Romany antiquity, a chamber with
two beds in it : or when two beds only were round a
table.
BICORNES, an order of plants in the fragmenta
methodi naturalis of \dnnxus, so termed from the an-
tlierse having in appearance two horns. See Bo¬
tany.
B1DACHE, a town of France, in the department
of the Lower Pyrenees, seated on the river Bidouse.
W. Long. I. 9. N. Lat. 41.31.
BILAL, or Bidale, in our ancient customs, de¬
notes the invitation of friends to drink ale at some poor
man’s bouse, who in consideration hereof expects some
contribution for his telief. This custom still obtains in
the west of England, and is mentioned in some of our
ancient statutes.
BIDDEL, John, one of the most eminent Eng¬
lish writers among the Socinians, was horn at Wot-
ton-under-Edge in Gloucestershire, and educated in
the free-sebool of that place. Being a hopeful youth,
he was taken notice of j particularly by Lord George
Berkeley, who allowed him an exhibition of ten
pounds a-year. This caused him vigorously to ap-
BIB [ 609 ] B I E
feikl P'y himself to his studies j ami he was, while at
school, author of a translation of Virgil’s Bucolics, and
of the two first satires of Juvenal. He continued at
1 school till he was 13 years of age. However, ha¬
ving manifested in that early period a singular piety
and contempt of secular affairs, he was sent to the uni¬
versity of Oxford, and entered a student in Magdalen
hall. In 1641, the magistrates of Gloucester chose
him master of the free school of that city $ and he was
much esteemed : but falling into some opinions con¬
cerning the J rinity diflerent from those commonly re¬
ceived, and expressing his thoughts with too much
freedom, he suflered various persecutions and imprison¬
ments in the time of the commonwealth. During one
of these confinements, which lasted for several years,
being reduced to great indigence, he was employed by
Roger Daniel of London to correct the impression of
the Greek Septuagint Bible, which that printer was
about to publish with great accuracy. In 1651, the
parliament published a general act of oblivion, which
restored him to his full liberty. He was afterwards
imprisoned on account of his tenets ; and at last the
Protector banished him for life to St Mary’s castle in
the isle of Seilly, and sent him thither in October
Soon after, he was allowed 100 crowns a year
for subsistence^ In 1658, he was set at full liberty.
After the restoration of King Charles II. he was fined
in tool, and each of his hearers in 20I. to Tie in prison
till paid j which being put in execution, the want of
fresh air and exercise made him contract a disease,
of which he died on the 22d of September 1662, in
the 47th year of his age. His life was published in
Latin in 1682, by Mr Farrington of the Inner Tem¬
ple, who represents him as possessed of extraordinary
piety, charity, and humility. He would not discourse
of those points in which he differed from others, with
those that did not appear religious according to their
knowledge j and was a strict observer himself, and a
severe exactor in others, of reverence in speaking of
God and Christ. He had so happy a memory, that he
retained word for word the whole New Testament, not
only in English, but in Greek, as far as the fourth
chapter o( the Revelation of St John.
RITJDlI ORD, a town of Devonshire, seated on the
river Toridge, over which there is a fine stone-bridge
with 24 arches. It contains 3244 inhabitants, and
carries on a considerable trade. W. Long. 4. 10. N.
Lat. 51. 10.
BIDDING, or Offering, denotes the raising the
price of a thing at a sale or auction. The French
call this endure}'. It answers to. what the Romans
called he it an: they used to bid by holding up the hand
or finger.
Bidding is also used for proclaiming or notifying.
In which sense we meet with bidding of the bannSj
the same with what is otherwise called asking.
Bidding Prayer. It was one part of the office of
the deacons in the primitive Christian church, to be a
sort of monitors and directors of the people in the exer¬
cise of their public devotions in the church. To which
end they made use of certain known forms of words,
to give notice when each part of the service began.
Jhis was called by the Greeks i£>jguTT£iv, and by the
Latins preedicare : which therefore does not ordinarily
signify to preach, as some mistake it, but to perform
the office of a crier or prcecd) in the assembly:
Voia III. Part II. f
whence Synesius and others call the deacons
the holy criers of the church, appointed to bid or ex¬
hort the congregation to pray and join in the several
parts of the service of the church. Agreeable to this
ancient practice is the form Let us pray, repeated be¬
fore several of the prayers in the English liturgy.
Bidding of the Beads, a charge or warning which
the parish-priest gave to his parishioners at certain spe¬
cial times, to say so many pater-nosters, &c. on their
beads.
BIDENS, Water Hemp-agrimony. See Bo¬
tany Index.
BIDENTAL, in Roman antiquity, a place blasted
with lightning ; which w’as immediately consecrated by
an haruspex, with the sacrifice of a bidens. This place
was afterwards accounted sacred, and it w'as unlawful
to enter it or to tread upon it j for which reason it was
commonly surrounded with a ditch, wall, hedge, ropes,
&c. See next article.
BIDENTALES, in Roman antiquity, priests in¬
stituted to perform certain ceremonies and expiations
when thunder fell on any place. Their principal office
was the sacrificing a sheep of two years old, which in
Latin is called bidens; from whence the place struck
with thunder got the name of bidental.
BIDENTES, in middle-age writers, denotes two-
yearlings, or sheep of the second year. The woo! of
these bidentes, or two years old sheep, being the first
sheering, was sometimes claimed as a heriot to the king,
on the death of an abbot. Among the ancient Romans,
the word was extended further to any sorts of beasts
used for victims, especially those of that age : whence
we meet with sues bidentes.
BIDET, a nag or little horse, formerly allowed each
trooper and dragoon, for his baggage and other occa¬
sions. Bidets are grown into disuse, on account of the
expences thereof, and the disorders frequently arising
from those who attended on them, &c.
BIDIS, in Ancient Geography, a small city of Sicily,
not far from Syracuse, whose ruins are still to be seen
in the territory of Syracuse, about 15 miles to the south¬
west, with a church called S. Giovanni diBidini.
BIDLOOj Godfrey, author of several treatises on
anatomy, was born at Amsterdam, March 12. 1649.
In 1688, he was professor of anatomy at the Hague j
and, in 1694, at Leyden ; when King William III. of
England appointed him his physician ; which he would
not accept but on condition ol holding his professor ■
ship, which was readily granted him. He published,
in Latin, 1. The Anatomy of the Human Body, demon¬
strated in 105 cuts, explained by the discoveries of the
ancient and modern writers. 2. An Oration upon the
Antiquity of Anatomy. 3. A Letter to Anthony Lecu-
wenhoeck on the animals sometimes found in the liver
of sheep and other animals. 4. Two Decades of disser¬
tations in Anatomy and Chirurgery ; and other pieces.
He died at Leyden, in April, i7I3-
BIDON, a liquid measure, containing about five
pints ol Paris, that is, about five quarts English wine-
measure. It is seldom used but among ships crews.
BIE, Adrian de, an eminent painter, was born
at Liere in 1594. After learning the rudiments of the
art from different masters, he travelled to Rome, where
he spent six years in studying the works of the best
masters. His industry was then rewarded with propor¬
tionable success ; for he found encouragement amonf
4 h th;
Bidding
Ei?:
B I E [ 610 ] BIG
the most honourable persons at Rome, and in everv
part of Italy through which he travelled, from persons
ot the first distinction. His penciling was so exceed¬
ingly neat, and his touch and colouring so very delicate,
that he was frequently employed to paint on jasper,
agate, porphyry, and other precious materials.
RIEEZ, a town of Poland, in the palatinate of Cra-
covia, remarkable for its mines of vitriol. It is seated
on the river Weseloke, in E. Long. 2. 21. N. Lat.
49. 50.
BIEL. See Bienna.
BIELA, a town of Russia, and capital of a province
of the same name, seated on the river Opschaw, in E.
Long. 34. 55. N. Lat. 55. o.
Biela Osero, or Belozero, a town of the Russian
empire, capital of a duchy, and situated on a lake of
the same name, at the mouth of the river Consa, in E.
Long. 39. 10. N. Lat. 58. 55.
Biela, a town of Piedmont in Italy, and capital
of the Bellese, near the river Cerva, in E. Long. 8. 3.
N. Lat. 45. 22.
BIELSKI, a town of Poland, in the palatinate of
Polachia, near one of the sources of the river Narew.
E. Long. 22. 55. N. Lat. 53. 50.
BIELSKOI, a town of Russia, in the province of
Smolensko. E. Long. 35. 5. N. Lat. 56. 40.
BIENNA, a town of Switzerland, seated on a lake
of the same name. The inhabitants are Protestants,
and in alliance with those of Bern, Soleure, and Fri-
burg. E. Long. 7. 14. N. Lat. 47. ir.
BIENNIAL plants ; plants, as the title biennial
imports, that are only of two years duration. Nume¬
rous plants are of this tribe, which being raised one
year from seed, generally attain perfection either the
same, or in about the period of a twelvemonth, or a
little less or more, and the following spring or summer
shoot up stalks, flower, and perfect seeds j soon after
which they commonly perish j or if any particular sorts
survive another year, they assume a dwindling and
straggling growth, and gradually die off j so that bien¬
nials are always in their prime the first or second sum¬
mer. Biennials consist both of esculents and flower
plants. Of the esculent kinds, the cabbage, savoy,
carrot, parsnip, beet, onion, leek, &c. are biennials.
Of the flowery tribe, the Canterbury bell, French ho¬
neysuckle, wall-flower, stock-july-flower, sweet-wil¬
liam, China-pink, common-pink, matted-pink, carna¬
tion, scabious, holly-hock, tree-mallow, vervain-mal¬
low, tree-primrose, honesty or moonwort, &c. are all of
the biennial tribe ; all of which being sown in March,
April, or May, rise the same year, and in spring fol¬
lowing shoot up into stalks, flower, and perfect seeds in
autumn ; after which most of them dwindle : though
sometimes the wall-flowers, hollyhocks, carnations, and
pinks, will survive and flower the follow’ing year j but
the plants become straggling, the flowers small and
badly coloured : it is therefore eligible to raise a
supply annually from seed j although wall-flowers, car¬
nations, and pinks, may be continued by slips and
layers.
BIER, a wooden machine for carrying the bodies
of the dead to be buried. The word comes from the
French bieri'e^ which signifies the same. It is called in
Latin feretrum, a ferendo. Among the Romans the
common bier, whereon the poorer sort were carried,
was called sandapila ; that used for the richer sort lec- Bier
tic a, lectica funebris, sometimes lectus. The former ft
was only a sort of wooden chest, vilis area, which was
burnt with the body j the latter was enriched and gild-'~^r*‘"
ed for pomp. It was carried bare, or uncovered, when
the person died a natural and easy death j when he
was much disfigured or distorted, it was veiled or co¬
vered over.
Bier is more particularly used for that whereon the
bodies of saints are placed in the church to rest, and
exposed to the veneration of the devout. This is also
called, in middle-age writers, lectus, ferctrum, lectica,
and loculus ; and was usually enriched with gold, silver,
and precious stones, which was the cause that the bier
of St Benedict was pillaged, and all its ornaments car¬
ried off.
BIEROLIET, a town of the Netherlands, in Dutch
Flanders, where William Bruckfield, or Beukelings,
who invented the method of pickling herrings, died in
1397. E. Long. 3. 42. N. Lat. 51. 25.
BIFER7E, plants that flower twice a-year, in spring
and autumn, as is common between the tropics.
BIFRONS, a person double-fronted, or two-faced.
BlFRONS is more peculiarly an appellation of Janus,
who was represented by the ancients with two faces, as
being supposed to look both backwards and forwards :
though other reasons for it are recited by Plutarch.
Sometimes he was painted with four faces, quadrifrons,
as respecting the four seasons.
BIGA, in antiquity, a chariot drawn by two horses
abreast. Chariot-races, with two horses, were intro¬
duced into the Olympic games in the 93d Olympiad :
but the invention was much more ancient ; as we find
that the heroes in the Iliad fight from chariots of that
kind. The moon, night, and the morning, are by
mythologists supposed to be carried in bigee, the sun
in quadrigee. Statues in bigee were at first only allow¬
ed to the gods, then to conquerors in the Grecian games 5
under the Roman emperors, the like statues, with bigee,
were decreed and granted to great and well-deserving
men, as a kind of half triumph, being erected in most
public places of the city. Figures of bigee were also
struck on their coins. The drivers of bigee were called
bigarii; a marble bust of one Florus a bigarius is still
seen at Rome.
BIGAMY, properly signifies being twice manned;
but with us is used as synonymous with polygamy, or
having a plurality of wives at once. Such second mar¬
riage, the former husband or wife living, is simply void,
and a mere nullity, by the ecclesiastical law of Eng¬
land ; and yet the legislature has thought it just to
make it felony, by reason of its being so great a viola¬
tion of the public economy and decency of a well-or¬
dered state. For polygamy can never be endured un¬
der any rational civil establishment, whatever specious
reasons may be urged for it by the eastern nations, the
fallaciousness of which has been fully proved by many
sensible writers : but in northern countries the very na¬
ture of the climate seems to reclaim against it 5 it ne¬
ver having obtained in this part of the world, even from
the time of our German ancestors, who, as Tacitus in¬
forms us, “ prope soli barbarorum singulis uxonbus
contenti sunt. It is therefore punished by the laws
both of ancient and modern Sweden with death. And
in Britain it is enacted by statute I Jac. I. c. II. that
J if
BIG [ 6n 1 B I L
if any person being married, do afterwards marry
again, the former husband or wife being alive, it is
felony ; but within the benefit of clergy. The first
wife in this case shall not he admitted as an evidence
against her husband, because she is the true wife j but
the second may, for she indeed is no wife at all : and
so, vice ve7'sa, of a second husband. This act makes
an exception to five cases, in which such second mar¬
riage, though in the three first it is void, is yet no fe¬
lony. i. Where either party hath been continually
abroad for seven years, whether the party in England
hath notice of the other’s being alive or no. 2. Where
either of the parties hath been absent from the other
seven years within this kingdom, and the remaining
party hath had no knowledge of the other’s being alive
■within that time. 3. Where there is a divorce (or
separation a mensa et thoro) by sentence in the eccle¬
siastical court. 4. Where the first marriage is declar¬
ed absolutely void by any such sentence, and the par¬
ties loosed a vinculo. Or, 5. Where either of the par¬
ties was under the age of consent at the time of the
first marriage j for in such case the first marriage was
voidable by the disagreement of either party, which
the second marriage very clearly amounts to. But, if
at the age of consent the parties had agreed to the
marriage, which completes the contract, and is indeed
the real marriage ; and afterwards one of them should
many again j Judge Blackstone apprehends that such
second marriage would be within the reason and penal¬
ties of the act.
BIGATI, in antiquity, a kind of ancient Roman
silver coins, on one side whereof was represented abiga,
or chariot drawn by two horses. The bigatus was pro¬
perly the Roman denarius, whose impression, during the
times of the commonwealth, was a chariot driven by
Victory, and drawn either by two horses or four ; ac¬
cording to which it was either denominated bigatus or
■quadrigatvs.
BIGGAR, a town and parish in Lanarkshire, Scot¬
land, containing 1376 inhabitants in 1811. Here are
the ruins of acollegiatechurch which was founded in 1545.
BIGGLESWADE, a town in Bedfordshire, in
England, seated on the river Ivel, over which there is
a handsome bridge. It lies on the principal road from
London to York, and with the adjoining hamlets of
Home and Stratton, contained 1895 inhabitants in
1811. W. Long. o. 15. N. Lat. 52. 9.
BIGHT, among seamen, denotes one roll or round
of a cable or rope, when coiled up.
BTGNON, Jerome, a French writer, was born at
Paris in 1590. He gained an uncommon knowledge,
tinder the care of his father, in philosophy, mathema¬
tics, history, civil law, and divinity, in a very short
time; and was almost at the end of his studies at an
age when it is usual to send children to school. At
ten years of age he gave the public a specimen of his
learning, in a Description of the Holy Land ; and two
years alter, he published a Discourse concerning the
principal antiquities and curiosities of Rome : and a
summary Treatise concerning the election of Popes.
Henry IV. desired to see him, and appointed him page
to the dauphin, who was afterwards Louis XIII. He
appeared at court with all the politeness of manners
imaginable. He wrote at that time a treatise of the
precedency of the kings of France, which he dedicated
to Henry IV. who gave him an express order to con¬
tinue his researches on that subject; but the death of
that prince interrupted his design. He published, in
1613, the Formulae of Marculphus. He was in 1620
made advocate-general in the grand council ; and dis¬
charged that post with such reputation, that the king-
nominated him some time after counsellor of state, and
at last advocate general in the parliament. He re¬
signed his offices in 1641 ; and the year following was
appointed chief library-keeper of the king’s library.
He was obliged to resume his office of advocate-ge¬
neral, and held it till his death. He was employed
in the most important affairs of state. At last this
great man, who had always made religion the basis of
his other virtues, died with the most exemplary devo¬
tion in 1656.
BIGNONIA, Trumpet-flower, or Scarlet
Jasmine. See Botany Index.
BIGORRE, a territory or county of France, in
the province of Gascony, which is now included in the
department of the Upper Pyrenees. It is bounded on
the east by the valley of Aure, the viscounty of Ne-
boussa, Riviere Verdun, and Pardiac ; by Bearne on the
west; on the south, by the valleys of Brotou and Pen-
ticouse in Arragqn ; and on the north, by the county
Riviere-Bas incorporated with Armagnac. It is 40
miles long from north to south, and 30 in breadth from
east to west. It is divided into three parts, the moun¬
tains, the plains, and the Rustan. The mountains are
enclosed between those of the valley of Aure on the
east, those of Arragon on the south, and of Bearne on
the west. This part contains two principal valleys, La-
vedan and Barege. The valley of Bigorre is of an oval
form, and has the hills of Rustan on the east. The re¬
markable townsareTarbes thecapital, Bagneres, Lourd,
&c. The mountains are a barrier between France and
Spain, and there are four different passages which the in¬
habitants are obliged to guard. Bigorre yields marble,
jasper, stone, and slate ; there are also mines of several
sorts, but they are not worked. The rivers are the
Adour, the Elches, the Arroset, and the Gave of La-
vedan ; there are also three lakes.
BIGOT, a person obstinately and perversely wed¬
ded to some opinion or practice, particularly of a re¬
ligious nature. Camden, perhaps, has hit upon the true
original of the word. He relates, that when Rollo,
duke of Normandy, received Gisla, the daughter of
Charles the Foolish, in marriage, together with the in¬
vestiture of that dukedom, he would not submit to kiss
Charles’s foot : and when his friends urged him by all
means to comply with that ceremony, he made answer
in the English tongue, Ne se by God, i. e. Not so
by God. Upon which, the king and his courtiers de¬
riding him, and corruptly repeating his answer, called
him bigot; from whence the Normans were called bi-
godi, or bigots.
Bigot, in Italian bigontia, is used to denote a Vene¬
tian liquid measure, containing the fourth part of the
amphora, or half the boot.
BIHAEZ, a strong town of Croatia in- Hungary,
seated in an isle formed by the river Anna, in E. Long.
16. 2. N. Lat. 44. 35.
BILANDER, in Navigation, a small merchant ship
with two masts, distinguished from other vessels of the
same kind by the form of the main-sail. Few vessel*
4 H 2 ars
BilanJor
: n
JBiledulge-
rid.
B I L
are now rigged In the manner of bilanders ; the name
has been variously applied in different countries.
BILBILIS, in Ancient Geography, a town of His-
; Pa!1*a Citerior, tlie birth-place of Martial j now suppo¬
sed to lie Calatajud in Arragon, on the Xalon.
BILBO A, a large, handsome, and rich town of
Spain, capital of Biscay, containing 15,000 inhabi¬
tants, with a well-frequented harbour. The inhabitants
have always preserved themselves from a mixture with
tne Jews and Moors ; and therefore will admit no fa¬
mily to settle among them but who can prove them-
seKes to be of Christian extraction. The number of
ships great and small that visit the harbour yearly is
from 500 to 600. The exports are wool and sword-
blades, with some other manufactures of iron and steel,
i he town is seated at the mouth of the river Ibaicabal,
in W. Long. 4; 20. N. Lat. 43. 23.
BILBOWS, a punishment at sea, answering to the
stocks at land. Hie offender is laid in irons, or stocks,
which are more or less ponderous according to the qua¬
lity of the offence of which he is guilty.
BILDESTON, a town of Suffolk in England, seat¬
ed on a creek on the river Breton. The principal ma¬
nufacture is of woollen goods, especially blankets. E.
Long. o. 45. N. Lat. 52. 20.
BILDGE of a ship, the bottom of her floor, or the
breadth of the place the ship rests on when she is a-
ground. Therefore, bilclge-water is that which lies on
her floor, and cannot go to the well of the pump:
And bildge-pumps, or burr-pumps, are those that carry
off the bildge-water. They likewise say the ship is
btldged, when she has some of her timber struck off on
a rock or anchor, and springs a leak.
BILE, a yellow, bitter juice, separated from the
blood in the liver, collected in the porus biliarius and
gall-bladder, and thence discharged by the common
duct into the duodenum. See Anatomy Index.
BILEDULGERID, or Belad Al Jerid, the
Country of Dates, a kingdom of Africa. It is almost
of a square form, extending itself more than 80 leagues
every way, from 28. 30. to 32. 50. north latitude, and
iiom 6 to i 2 degrees of west longitude. It is bounded
on the north by the kingdom of Tunis, on the east by
a ridge of lofty mountains which divide it from Tripoli
and part of Guadamis, on the west by the countries
*ff Zeb and IMezeb, and on the south by the province
of Verghela. The whole country is barren, sandy, and
mountainous, producing little or nothing besides dates,
which^ grow here in such profusion, that the face of
half tae kingdom is covered over with date-trees, and
from hence the whole country takes its name. The
Climate is hot and unhealthy £ the people lean, swarthy,
and shrivelled in their complexions; with their eyes
inflamed, owing to the reflection of the sunbeams from
the white hard soil 5 and the showers of dust and sand,
driven by the high winds that blow here at certain sea¬
sons, are frequently so violent as to bury men and cat¬
tle under them. Another inconvenience with which
the inhabitants are afflicted, for which no other rea¬
son is given besides their constant living on dates, is
an inveterate scurvy in their gums, whence all their
teeth drop out; though it frequently spreads over their
whole bodies, and then they become thje most unhappy
^nd loathsome objects. They are almost entirely free
3
[ 612 ] B I L
from other diseases : so that when not afflicted with this
they live to a good old age 5 though it is observable
tnat they discover a furrowed countenance, shrivelled
skin, hoary locks, and other symptoms of old age, very-
early in life, and before decrepitude, infirmity, or any
decay of their faculties, appear. I lie plague is not
known in Biledulgerid, though so frequent in Barbarv,
and though a constant intercourse is kept up between
the two countries ; whence it would seem, that in cer¬
tain cases this terrible distemper is not so infectious as
it is usually thought to be. The same may be said of
the smallpox, a disease little less contagious and fatal
in hot countries than the plague itself. The natives
are represented as a lewd, treacherous, thievish, and
savage people, who delight in murder and robbery.
They are mostly a mixture of Africans and wild Arabs
who mingled themselves with them. The former live
with some regularity and civil order in a kind of villages
composed of a number of little huts; the latter in tents,
ranging from place to place in quest of food and plun¬
der. 1 he Arabs, who pride themselves in their supe-
nority of birth and talents above the primitive inhabi¬
tants, are wholly independent and free, frequently hi¬
ring themselves in the service of the neighbouring prin¬
ces at war; from which policy arise the most valuable
branches of their public revenue, if any thing can be
called common or public in a nation of lawless rob¬
bers. The rest pursue no other occupation besides
hunting and plundering; the first of which is their
common employment, especially hunting of ostriches,
which are said to be ol a prodigious stature in this
country, and as high as a man mounted on a tall
horse. I he inhabitants eat the flesh of these animals;
barter their feathers for corn, pulse, and other things
they want ; use their hearts in their necromantic and
religious rites, their /at as a medicine of sovereign vir¬
tue, their talons for ear-pendants and other ornaments,
and their skins they convert into pouches and knap¬
sacks, so that not a part of the animal but is employed
in some useful purpose. Besides dates and ostriches,
the Arabs live likewise on the flesh of goats and camels;
drinking either the liquor or broth in which that flesh
is boiled, or the milk of their camels. In the whole
country there is scarcely a town of any note, or even a
stream of water that deserves notice, or that is not
dried up half the year.
BILEAELT, a town of Germany in the circle of
Westphalia and county of Ravensburg, subject to the
king of Prussia, in E. Long. 8. 20. N. Lat. 52. o.
BIL1INGER, George Bernard, a German phi¬
losopher and statesman. See Supplement.
BILINGUIS, in a general sense, signifies one that
speaks two languages ; but in law, is used for a jury that
passes in any case between an Englishman and a foreign¬
er, whereof part ought to be English and part strangers,
BILIOUS, in general, denotes something belonging
to, or partaking of, the nature of bile. Hence,
Bilious Fevers are those occasioned by the over co¬
piousness or bad qualities of the bile.
BILL, in Mechanics, an instrument made of iron,
edged in the form of a crescent, and adapted to a
handle. It is used by plumbers, to perform several
parts of their work ; by basket-makers, to cut the lar¬
gest pieces of chesnut-trees and other wood ; and by
gardeners,
Biledulgt.
rid
B I L
gardeners, to prune trees. When short, it is called a
,v — j hand-bill; and when long, a hedge-bill.
Bill, in Late, a declaration in writing, expressing
either some wrong the complainant has suft’ered from
the defendant, or a fault committed hy the person com¬
plained of against some law or statute.—This bill is
sometimes exhibited to justices at the general assizes,
by way of indictment, or referred to others having ju¬
risdiction ; but it is more generally addressed to the
lord chancellor. It contains the fact complained of,
the damage sustained, and a petition or process against
the defendant for redress ; and is used both in criminal
and civil cases. In the former, the words billa vera
are indorsed by the grand jury upon a presentment,
implying that they find the same founded on pro¬
bable evidence, and therefore worthy of further consi¬
deration.
In Scots law, every summary application in writing,
by wav of petition to the court of session, is called a
bill.
Bill of Attainder. See Attainder.
Bill of Appeal. See Appeal.
Bill signifies also a paper, either written or print¬
ed, in very large characters, which is posted up in some
open and public place, to give notice of the sale of any
merchandise or ship, or of the sailing of any vessel into
foreign parts.
Bill, in trade, both wholesale and retail, as also
among workmen, signifies an account of merchandises
or goods delivered to a person, or of work done for
one.
Bill, in Commerce, denotes a security for money
under the hand and sometimes seal of the debtor, with¬
out any condition or forfeiture in case of non-perform¬
ance ; in which it is distinguished from a bond or obli¬
gation. It has been usually defined, a writing where¬
in one man is bound to another to pay a sum of mo¬
ney, on a day that is future, or presently on demand,
according to the agreement of the parties at the time
when it is drawn ; on which, in case of failure, dili¬
gence or execution may be immediately done to force
payment. These bills must be on stamped paper : if
under 50I. the stamp to be 6d. ; if for 50I. or up¬
wards is.
Bank-BiLL is a note or obligation signed on behalf
of the company of the bank, by one of their cashiers,
for value received. Or it is an obligation to pay on
demand either to the bearer or to order j in Scotland,
it is understood to be to order.
Bill of Entry, an account of the goods entered at
the custom house, both inwards and outwards. In
this bill must be expressed, the merchant exporting or
importing; the quantity of merchandise, and the di¬
vers species thereof j and whither transported, or from
whence.
Bill of Exchange, is a secuiity, originally invented
among merchants in different countries, for the more
easy remittance of money from the one to the other,
which has since spread itself into almost all pecuniary
transactions. It is an open letter of request from one
man to another, desiring him to pay a sum named there¬
in to a third person on his account; by which means
a man at the most distant part of the world may have
money remitted to him from any trading country. If
A lives in Jamaica, and owes B who lives in England
B I L
1 cool, j now if C be going from England to Jamaica, fun.
he may pay B this toool. and take a bill of exchange v—
drawn by B in England upon A in Jamaica, and re¬
ceive it when be comes thither. Thus does B receive
his debt, at any distance of place, by transferring it
to C ; who carries over his money in paper credit,
without danger of robbery or loss. This method is
said to have been brought into general use by the Jews
and Lombards, when banished for their usury and
other vices •, in order the more easily to draw their ef¬
fects out of France and England into those countries in
which they had chosen to reside. But the invention of
it was a little earlier 5 for the Jews were banished out
of Guienne in 1287, and out of England in 1290, and
in 1236 the use of paper-credit was introduced into the
Mogul empire in China.—-In common speech, such a
bill is frequently called a draught; but a bill of ex¬
change is the more legal as well as mercantile expres¬
sion. The person, however, who writes this letter, is
called, in law, the drawer; and he to whom it is writ¬
ten, the drawee; and the third person or negociator to
whom it is. payable (whether specially named or the
bearer generally) is called the payee.
These bills are either foreign or inland ; foreign,
when drawn by a merchant residing abroad upon his
correspondent in England, or vice versa ; and inland,
when both the. drawer and the drawee reside within the
kingdom. Formerly foreign bills of exchange were
much more regarded in the eye of the law than inland
ones, as being thought of more public concern in the
advancement of trade and commerce. But now by two
statutes, the one 9 and 10 W. III. c. 17. the. other 3
and 4 Ann. c. 9. inland bills of exchange are put upon
the same footing as foreign ones: what was the law
and customs of merchants with regard to the one, and
taken notice of merely as such, being by those statutes
expressly enacted with regard to the other. So that
there is now in law no manner of difference between
them. In drawing foreign bills of exchange, it is cu¬
stomary to give two or three of the same date and te¬
nor to be sent by different conveyances, that in case of
accidents the person to whom they are sent may not be
disappointed ; in which case it is mentioned in the bo¬
dy of the bill, that it is the 1st, 2d, or 3d bill of ex¬
change *, so that when one is paid it discharges all the
rest. Inland bills for any sum must be on 6d. stamped
paper.
Bill of Lading, an acknowledgement signed by the
master of a ship, and given to a merchant, &c. contain¬
ing an account of the goods which the master has re¬
ceived on board from that merchant, &c. with a pro¬
mise to deliver them at an intended place for a certain
salary. Each bill of lading must be treble, one for the
merchant who loads the goods, another to be sent to
the person to whom they are consigned, and the third
to remain in the hands of the master of the ship. It
must be observed, however, that a bill of lading is used
only w’hen the goods sent on board a ship are but part
of the cargo : for when a merchant loads a whole vessel
for his own personal account, the deed passed between
him and the master of the ship is called charter-party.
See CuARTER-Barty.
Bills of Mortality, are accounts of the numbers of
births and burials within a certain district, every week,
month, quarter, or year., In this sense we say weekly
bills} j
[ 613 1
B I L
Bill.
bills, monthly bills, quarterly bills, yearly bills. The
London bills of mortality, which were the first, are com¬
posed by the parish-clerks, and express the number of
christenings of each sex, and of deaths from each dis-
See Bills of Mortality, Supplement
[ 614 ]
B I L
Hill of Parcels, an account given by the seller to
the buyer, containing the particulars of all the sorts and
prices of goods bought.
Pill of Sale, is when a person wanting a sum of
money delivers goods as a security to the lender, to
whom he gives his bill, empowering him to sell the
goods, in case the sum borrowed is not repaid, with in¬
terest, at the appointed time.
Bill of Stores, a license granted at the custom-house
to merchants, by which they have liberty to carry, cu¬
stom-free, all such stores and provisions as they may
have occasion for during the voyage.
Bill of Sufferance, a license granted to a merchant,
at. the custom-house, suffering him to trade from one
English port to another without paying custom.
Lombard Bills, are instruments of an uncommon
kind and figure, used in Italy and Flanders, and of late
also in France; consisting of a piece of parchment, cut
to an acute angle, about an inch broad at top, and, ter¬
minating in a point at bottom : chiefly given where
private persons are concerned in the fitting out a ship
on any lopg voyage. The manner is thus : The party,
who is desirous to be concerned in the cargo or venture,
carries his money to the merchant who fits out the
ship, where it is entered down in a register ; at the same
time the merchant writes down on a piece of parch¬
ment, upwards of an inch broad, and seven or eight
inches long, the name of the lender and the sum lent;
which being cut diagonal-wise, or from corner to cor¬
ner, each party retains his half. On the return of the
vessel, the lender brings his moiety to the merchant;
■which being compared with the other, he receives his
dividend accordingly. Much the same is practised in
Holland by those who lend money on pledges ; the
name of the borrower and the sum are written on a
like slip of parchment, which is cut into two, and half
given to the borrower, and the other half stitched to
the pledge ; that, upon comparing them together again,
the borrower may receive his goods on paying the mo¬
ney stipulated.
Bill in Parliament, a paper containing propositions,
offered to the houses to be passed by them, and then pre¬
sented to the king to pass into a law.
lo bring a bill into the house, if the relief sought
by it is of a private nature, it is first necessary to pre¬
fer a petition; which must be presented by a member,
and usually sets forth the grievance desired to be reme¬
died. This petition (when founded on facts that may
be in their nature disputed) is referred to a committee
of members, who examine the matter alleged, and ac¬
cordingly report it to the house; and then (or, other¬
wise, upon the mere petition) leave is given to' bring in
the bill. In public matters, the bill is brought in upon
motion made to the house, without any petition at all.
Formerly all bills were drawn in the form of petitions,
which were entered upon the parliament rolls, with the
king’s answer thereunto subjoined ; not in any settled
form of words, but as the circumstances of the case
required, and at the end of each parliament the judges
drew them into the form of a statute, which was en¬
tered on the statute-rolls. In the reign of Henry V. to
prevent mistakes and abuses, the statutes were drawn <
up by the judges before the end of the parliament ;
and in the reign of Henry VI. bills in the form of
acts according to the modern custom, were first intro¬
duced.
The persons directed to bring in the bill, present it
in a competent time to the house, drawn out on paper,
with a multitude of blanks, or void spaces, where any
thing occurs that is dubious, or necessary to be settled
by the parliament itself, such especially as the precise
date of times, the nature and quantity of penalties, or
of any sums of money to be raised ; being indeed only
the skeleton of the bill. In the house of lords, if the
bill begins there, it is, (when of a private nature) re¬
ferred to two of the judges, who examine and report tire
state of the facts alleged, to see that all necessary parties
consent, and to settle all points of technical propriety.
This is read a first time, and at a convenient distance a
second time ; and after each reading, the speaker opens
to the house the substance of the bill, and puts the ques¬
tion, Whether it shall proceed any farther ? The intro¬
duction of the bill may be originally opMsed, as the
bill itself may at either of the readings ; and,^f <he op¬
position succeeds, the bill must be dropped for that ses¬
sion ; as it must also, if opposed with success in any of
the subsequent stages. •
After the second reading, it is committed; that is,
referred to a committee : which is either selected by the
house in matters of small importance; or else, upon a
bill of consequence, the house resolves itself into a com¬
mittee of the whole house. A committee of the whole
house is composed of every member ; and, to form it,
the speaker quits the chair (another member being
appointed chairman), and may sit and debate as a pri¬
vate member. In these committees the bill is debated
clause by clause, amendments made, the blanks filled
up, and sometimes the bill entirely new-modelled. Af¬
ter it has gone through the committee, the chairman
reports it to the house with such amendments as the
committee have made ; and then the house considers
the whole bill again, and the question is repeatedly put
upon every clause and amendment. When the house
hath agreed or disagreed to the amendments of the
committee, and sometimes added new amendments of
its own, the bill is then ordered to be engrossed, or
written in a strong gross hand, on one or more long
rolls (or presses) of parchment sewed together. When
this is finished, it is read a third time, and amendments
are sometimes then made to it; and if a new clause be
added, it is done by tacking a separate piece of parch¬
ment on the bill, which is called a ryder. The speaker
then again opens the contents ; and, in holding it up in
his hands, puts the question, Whether the bill shall pass?
If this is agreed to, the title to it is then settled ; which
used to be a general one for all the acts passed in the
session, till in the fifth year of Hen. VIII. distinct titles
were introduced for each chapter. After this, one of
the members is directed to carry it to the lords and
desire their concurrence ; who, attended by several
more, carries it to the bar of the house of peers, and
there delivers it to their speaker, who comes down from
his woolsack to receive it.
It there passes through the same forms as in the other
house (except engrossing, which is already done); and,
B I L [ 615 ] B I L
jll. if rejected, no more notice is taken, but it passes sub
' silentio, to prevent unbecoming altercations. But if it
is agreed to, the lords send a message by two masters in
chancery (or sometimes two of the judges) that they
have agreed to the same : and the bill remains with the
lords, if they have made no amendments to it. But if
any amendments are made, such amendments are sent
down with the bill to receive the concurrence of the
commons. If the commons disagree to the amend¬
ments, a conference usually follows between members
deputed fiom each house j who for the most part settle
and adjust the difference : but if both houses remain in¬
flexible, the bill is dropped. If the commons agree to
amendments, the bill is sent back to the lords by one
of the members, with a message to acquaint them there¬
with. The same forms are observed, mutatis mutandis,
when the bill begins in the house of lords. But when
an act of grace or pardon is passed, it is first signed by
his majesty, and then read once only in each of the
houses, without any new engrossing or amendment.
And when both houses have done with any bill, it al¬
ways is deposited in the house of peers, to wait the royal
assent $ except in the case of a bill of supply, which af¬
ter receiving the concurrence of the loids is sent back
to the house of commons.
The royal assent maybe given two ways : x. In per¬
son ; when the king comes to the house of peers, in
his crown and royal rohes, and sending for the com¬
mons to the bar, the titles of all the bills that have
passed both houses are read j and the king’s answer is
declared by the clerk of the parliament in Norman-
French : a badge it must be owned (now the only one
remaining), of conquest $ and which one could wish to
see fall into total oblivion j unless it be reserved as a so¬
lemn memento to remind us that our liberties are mor¬
tal, having been once destroyed by a foreign force. If
the king consents to a public bill, the clerk usually de¬
clares, Le roy le veut, “ The king wills it so to be j” if
to a private bill, Soit fait comme il est desire, “ Be it as
it is desired.” If the king refuses his assent, it is in
the gentle language of Le roy s'avisera, “ The king will
advise upon it.” When a bill of supply .is passed, it
is carried up and presented to the king by the speaker
of the house of commons ; and the royal assent is thus
expressed, Le roy remercie ses loyal subjects, accepte leur
benevolence, et aussile veut; “ The king thanks his loyal
subjects, accepts their benevolence, and wills it so to
be.” In case of an act of grace, which originally pro¬
ceeds from the crown and has the royal assent in the first
stage of it, the clerk of the parliament thus pronounces
the gratitude of the subject : Les prelats, seigneurs, et
commons, en cepresent parliament assemblecs, au nom de
touts vous autres subjects, remercient tres humblement
votre majeste, et prient a Dieu vous donner en sant(
bone vie et longue ; “ The prelates, lords, and commons
in this present parliament assembled, in the name of all
your other subjects, most humbly thank your majesty,
and pray to God to grant you in health and wealth
long to live.” 2. By the statute 33 Hen. YII1. c. 21.
the king may give his assent by letters patent under his
great seal, signed with his hand, and notified in his ab¬
sence to both houses assembled together in the high
house. And when the bill has received the royal assent
in either of these ways, it is then, and not before, a sta¬
tute or act of parliament.
2
This statute or act is placed among the records of
the kingdom ; there needing no formal promulgation
to give it the force of a law, as was necessary by the
civil law with regard to the emperor’s edicts j because
every man in Britain is, in judgment of law, party to
the making of an edict of parliament, being present
thereat by his representatives. However, a copy there¬
of is usually printed at the king’s press for the informa¬
tion of the whole land. And formerly, before the in¬
vention of printing, it was. used to be published by the
sheriff of every county; the king’s writ being sent to
him at the end of every session, together with a tran¬
script of all the acts made at that session, commanding
him, ut statuta ilia, et omnes articulos in eisdetn conten-
tos, in singulis locis ubi expedire viderit, publice procla-
man, etfirmiter teneri et observarifacial. And the
usage was to proclaim them at his county court, and
there to keep them, that whoever would, might read
or take copies thereof; which custom continued till the
reign of Henry VII.
An act of parliament thus made is the exercise of
the highest authority that this kingdom acknowledges
upon earth. It hath power to bind every subject irv
the land, and the dominions thereunto belonging; nay,
even the king himself, if particularly named therein.-
And it cannot be altered, amended, dispensed with,
suspended, or repealed, but in the same forms and by
the same authority of parliament: for it is a maxim in
law, that it requires the same strength to dissolve as to
create an obligation. It is true, it was formerly held
that the king might in many cases dispense with penal
statutes; but now by statute I Will, and M. etat. 2.
c. 2. it is declared, that the suspending or dispensing
with laws by regal authority, without consent of parlia¬
ment, is illegal.
Bill of Rights. See the article Liberty.
BILLERICAY, a town of Essex in England, seated
on a hill, in E. Long. o. 25. N. Lat. 51. 35.
BILLET, in' Heraldry, a bearing in form of a long
square. They are supposed to represent pieces of cloth
of gold or silver ; but Guillem thinks they represent a
letter sealed up, and other authors take them for bricks.
Billete signifies that the escutcheon is all over strewed
with billets, the number not ascertained.
BiLLET-TFood, small wood for fuel, cut three feet and
four inches long, and seven inches and a half in compass;
the size of which is to be inquired of by justices.
BILLETING, in military affairs, is the quartering
of soldiers in the houses of a town or village.—And,
among fox-hunters, it signifies the ordure and dung of
a fox.
BILLIARDS, an ingenious kind of game, played
on a rectangular table, with little ivory balls, which
are driven into hazards or holes, according to certain
rules of the game.
This game was invented by the French, when it
was played in a different manner from what it is at
present, by having a pass or iron fixed on the table,
through which the balls at particular periods of the
game used to be played; but now this method is quite
laid aside.
Soon after the French, the Germans, the Dutch,
and Italians, brought this game into vogue throughout
most parts of Europe, at which they became great pro¬
ficients ; and in a few years afterwards it became a fa-
• vourit* -
B I L l 6
fiiiliards. Vourlte diversion in many parts of England, particular-
—s-v——/ ly with persons of the first rank. Since that time, indeed,
it lias been in a great measure prostituted by de¬
signing and vulgar sorts of people: notwithstanding, it
will never be out of fashion, being of itself very enter¬
taining, and attended with that kind of moderate exer¬
cise which renders it the more agreeable.
1 he table on which the game is played is generally
about twelve feet long and six feet wide, or rather in
the exact form of an oblong ; it is covered with fine
green cloth, and surrounded with cushions to prevent
the balls running ofl, and to make them rebound,
fhere are six holes, nets, or pockets : these are fixed
at the four corners, and in the middle, opposite to each
other, to receive the balls, which when put into these
holes or pockets are called hazards. The making of a
hazard, that is, putting the adversary’s ball in, at the
usual game reckons for two in favour of the player.
The game is played with sticks called ??iaces, or
with cues j the first consists of a long straight stick,
with a head at the end, and is the most powerful instru¬
ment ot the two : the cue is a thick stick diminishing
gradually to a point of about half an inch diameter j
this instrument is played over the left hand, and sup¬
ported by the fore finger and thumb. It is the only
instrument in vogue abroad, and is played with amaz¬
ing address by the Italians and some of the Dutch j
but in England the mace is the prevailing instrument^
which the foreigners hold in contempt, as it requires
not near so much address to play the game with, as
when the cue is made use of j but the mace is prefer¬
red for its peculiar advantage, which some professed
players have artfully introduced, under the name of
trailing, that is, following the ball with the mace to
such a convenient distance from the other ball as to make
it an easy hazard, I he degrees of trailing are variouSj
and undergo different denominations amongst the con¬
noisseurs at this game ; namely, the shove, the sweep,
the long stroke, the trail, and the dead trail or turn up,
all which secure an advantage to a good player accord¬
ing to their various gradations : even the butt end of
the cue becomes very powerful, when it is made use of
by a good trailer.
Rules generally obsewed at the common or usual game.
—x. For the lead, the balls must he put at one end,
and the player must strike them against the farthermost
cushion, in order to see which will be nearest the cushion
that is next to them. 2. The nearest to the cushion is
to lead and choose the ball if he pleases. 3. The lead¬
er is to place his ball at the nail, and not to pass the
middle pocket ; and if he holes himself in leading, he
loses the lead. 4. He who follows the leader must
stand within the corner of the table, and not place his
hall beyond the nail. 5. He who plays upon the runJ
ning ball loses one. 6. He who touches the ball twice
and moves it, loses one. But these two rules are sel¬
dom or ever enforced, especially in Englan d. 7. He
who does not hit his adversary’s ball, loses one. 8. He
who touches both balls at the same time, makes a foul
stroke, in which case if he should hole his adversary,
nothing is gained by the stroke ; but if he should put
himself in, he loses two. 9. He who holes both balls,
loses two. 10. He who strikes upon his adversary’s
ball, and holes himself, loses two. 11. He who plays
at the ball without striking it, and holes himself,
] B I L
loses three. 12. He who strikes both balls over the
table, loses two. 13. He who strikes his ball over the ■ ‘ . !
table, and does not hit his adversary’s ball, loses ^
three. 14. He who retains the end of his adversary’s
stick when playing, or endeavours to baulk his stroke,
loses one. 15. He who plays another’s ball or stroke
without leave, loses one. 16. He who takes up his
ball, or his adversary’s without leave, loses one. 17. He
who stops either ball when running, loses one; and
being near the hole, loses two. 18. He who blows
upon the ball when running loses one, and, if near the
hole, loses tvvo. 19. He who shakes the table when the
ball is running, loses one. 20. He who strikes the
table with the stick, or plays before his turn, loses one.
2i. He who strikes his stick upon the table, and hits
the ball, loses one; 22. If the ball stands upon the
edge of the hole, and after being challenged it falls in,
it is nothing, but must be put up where it was before.
23. If any person, not being one of the players, stops a
ball, the ball must stand in the place where it was stop¬
ped. 24. He who plays without a foot upon the floor,
and holes his adversary’s ball, gets nothing for it, but
loses the lead. 25* He who leaves the game before it
is ended, lose^ it. 26. Any person may change his
stick in play. 27. If any difference arise between
players, he who marks the game or the majority of the
company must decide it. 28. Those who do not play
must stand from the table, and make room for the
players. 29. If any person lays any wager, and does
not play, he shall not give advice to the players upon
the game;
Different kinds of games played at billiards.—Besides
the common winning game, which is twelve up, there
aie seveial other kinds of games, viz. the losing game,
the winning and losing, choice of balls, bricole, caram-
bole, Russian carambole, the bar-hole, the one-hole, the
four-game, and hazards.
J he losing-game, is the common game nearly rever¬
sed } that is to say, except hitting the balls, which is
absolutely necessary, the player gains by losing. By
putting himself in, he wins tvvo j by putting his ad¬
versary in, he loses two; but if he pockets both balls,
he gets four. The game depends greatly upon parti¬
cular strengths, and is therefore very necessary to be
known to play the winning game well.
Hie winning and losing game, is a combination of
both games ; that is to say, all balls that are put in by
striking first the adversary’s ball, reckon towards game;
and holing both balls reckons four. At this game and
the losing, knocking over or forcing the balls over the
cushion, goes for nothing, the striker only loses the
lead.
Choice of the balls, is choosing each time which ball
the player pleases, which is doubtless a great advan-
tage, and is generally played against losing and win¬
ning;
Bricole, is being obliged to hit a cushion, and
make the ball rebound or return to hit the adver¬
sary’s ball, otherwise the player loses a point. This
is a great disadvantage, and is reckoned between evert
players to be equal to receiving about eight or nine
points.
Carambole, is a game newly introduc ed from France.
It is played with three balls, one being red, which is
neutral, and is placed upon a spot on a line with the
stringing
B I L
Billirds. stringing nail (i. e. that part of the table from •whence
  ' the player strikes his ball at first setting olf, and which
is generally marked with two brass nails). Each anta¬
gonist at the first stroke of a hazard, plays from a mark
which is upon a line with it at the other end of the ta¬
ble. The chief object at this game is, for the player to
hit with his own ball the two other balls, which is call¬
ed a carambole, and by which the player wins two. If
he puts in the red ball he gets three, and when he holes
his adversary’s ball he gets two so that seven may be
made at one stroke, by caramboling and putting in both
balls. This game resembles the losing, depending
chiefly upon particular strengths, and is generally play-
! ed with the cue. The game is sixteen up ; neverthe¬
less it is reckoned to be sooner over than the common
game. The next object of this game, after making
what we have distinguished by the carambole, is the
baulk ; that, is, making the white ball, and bringing the
player’s own ball and the red one below the stringing
nail, from whence the adversary’s begin. By this means
the opponent is obliged to play bricole from the opposite
cushion •, and it often happens that the game is deter¬
mined by this situation.
The Russian carambole is a game that has still more
lately been introduced from abroad, and is played in
the following manner: The red ball is placed as usual
on the spot made for that purpose ; but the player when
he begins, or after having been holed, never places his
ball on any particular place or spot; he being at liber¬
ty to put it where he pleases. When he begins to play,
instead of striking at the red ball, he leads his own gent¬
ly behind it, and his antagonist is to play at which he
thinks proper j if he plays at the red ball and holes it,
he scores three as usual towards the game, which is
twenty-four instead of sixteen points; and the red ball
s is put upon the spot again, at which he may strike
again, or take his choice which of the two balls to push
at, always following his stroke till both balls are off
the table. He is entitled to two points each time that
he caramboles, the same as at the other game ; but if
he caramboles and puts his own ball into any hole, he
Joses as many as he might have got had he not holed
himself: for example, if he strikes at the red ball which
he holes, at the same time caramboles and holes himself,
he loses five points; and if he holes both balls when he
caramboles, and likewise his own, he loses seven, which
he would have got, if he had not holed his own ball. In
other respects it is played like the common carambole
game.
The bar-hole, is so called from the hole being
barred which the ball should be played for, and the
player- striking for another hole ; when this game is
played against the common game, the advantage for
the latter, between equal players, is reckoned to be
about six.
The player at the one-hole, though it seems to those
who are not judges of the game to be a great disad¬
vantage, has in fact the best of it; for as all balls that
go into the one hole reckon, the player endeavours to
lay his ball constantly before the hole, and his anta¬
gonist frequently finds it very difficult to keep one
or other ball out, particularly on the leads, when the
one-hole player lays his ball (which he does as often
as he can) on the brink of the hole j leading for that
purpose from the opposite end, which in reality he has
Vol. III. Part II. ^ f
[ 617 ]
B I L
no n'ght to do $ for, the lead should be given from the
end of the table at which the hazard is made ; but
when a person happens to be a novice, this advantage
is often taken.
Hhe four-game, consists of two partners on each side,
at the common winning game 5 who play by succes¬
sion after each hazard, or two points lost. The game
is fifteen up ; so that the point or hazard is an odd
number, which makes a miss at this game of more con¬
sequence than it is at another; being as much at four,
six, or eight, as it is at five, seven, or nine, at the single
game.
Hazards are so called because they depend entirely
upon the making of hazards, there being no account
kept ol any game. Any number of persons may play
by having bails that are numbered j but the num¬
ber seldom exceeds six, to avoid confusion. The
person whose ball is put in, pays so much to the
player according to what is agreed to be played for
each hazard j and the person who misses, pays half
the price of a hazard to him whose ball he played at.
The only general rule is not to lay any ball a hazard
for the next player, which may be in a great measure
avoided, by always playing upon the next player, and
either bringing him close to the cushion, or putting him
at a distance from the rest of the balls. The table,
when hazards are played, is always paid for by the hour.
^ BILLINGHAM, a town of Northumberland in
England, seated in W. Long. 1. 35. N. Lat. 55. 20.
BILLON, in the history of coins, a composition of
precious and base metals, where the latter predominates.
Wherefore gold under twelve carats fine, is called billon
of gold; and silver under six pennyweight, billon of sil¬
ver. So little attention was paid formerly to the puri¬
ty of gold and silver, that the term billon of gold was
applied only to that which was under twenty-one carats,
and billon of silver to that which was lower than ten
pennyweight. •
Billon, a town of France, in the department of Puy
de Dome, containing 5200 inhabitants. E. Long. 2.
30. N. Lat. 45. 36. , * J
BILSDON, a small town of Leicestershire in Eng¬
land, situated in W. Long. o. 15. N. Lat. 52. 40.
BILSEN, a town of the Netherlands, in the princi¬
pality of Liege, seated on the river Demer, in E. Long.
5. 42. N. Lat. 50. 48.
_ BILSON, Thomas, bishop of Winchester, in which
city he was born and educated. In 1565, he was ad¬
mitted perpetual fellow of New College, and in 1570
completed his degrees in arts. He was made bachelor
of divinity in 1579, and doctor the year following.
His first preferment was that of master of Winchester
school ; he was next made prebendary, and afterwards
warden, of Winchester college. In 1596 he was con¬
secrated bishop of Worcester ; and about a year after,
translated to the see of Winchester, and sworn of Queen
Elizabeth’s privy-council. He was one of the prin¬
cipal managers of the Hampton court conference in
1604 j and the English translation of the Bible in the
reign of King James I. was finally corrected by this
prelate, and Dr Miles Smith bishop of Gloucester.
He died in the year 1616, and was buried in West¬
minster abbey, near the entrance of St Edmund’s cha¬
pel, on the south side of the monument of. King Rich¬
ard II. The several authors who have mentioned
4 I \ Bishop
BIN [ 618 ] BIN
Bilson Bishop Bilson, agree in giving him the character of a
y learned divine, an able civilian, and an upright man.
Arkhm'b HiS Style is in general mu^h more easy and harmonious
■ fi |ne IC- than that of cotemporary ecclesiastics. His works are,
l. Several Latin poems and orations. Manuscript, in
Ant. Wood’s library. 2. The true difference between
Christian subjectionandunchristianrebellion. Oxf. 1585,
4to. Lond. 1586, 8vo. 3. The perpetual government
of Christ’s church. Lond. 1593, 4to, Black Letter.
4. The effect of certain sermons touching the full re¬
demption of mankind by the death and blood of Christ,
&c. Lond. 1599, 4U). 5. The survey of Christ’s suf¬
fering for man’s redemption, and of his descent to Hades
or Hell. Lond. 1604, fol. 6. A sermon preached be¬
fore King James I. and his queen, at their coronation.
Lond. 1603, 8vo.
BIMEDIAL, in Mathematics. If two medial lines,
as AB and BC, commensurable only in power, contain¬
ing a rational rectangle, are compounded, the whole
line AC will be irrational, and is called ajirst bimedial
line.
B
A  —  + -C
See Euclid, lib. x. prop. 38.
BIMINI, one of the Bahama islands, near the north¬
west extremity of the Bahama bank. It is about eight
miles in length, and as much in breadth, covered with
trees, and inhabited by the native Americans. It is
very difficult of access on account of the shoals, but
is a very pleasant place. W. Long. 79. 30. N. Lat.
25. o.
BIMLIPATAN, a village in Hindostan, in the
northern circars, seated on the west side of the bay of
Bengal. The Dutch had formerly a small factory here,
designed for buying up the cloth manufactured by the
inhabitants. E. Long. 83. 5. N. Lat. 18. o.
BINACLE, a wooden case or box, which contains
the compasses, log-glasses, watch-glasses, and lights
to show the compass at night. As this is called bittade
in all the old sea-books, even by mariners, it appears
evidently to be derived from the French term habittacle
(a small habitation), which is now used for the same
purpose by the seamen of that nation. The binacle
(Plate LXXX VIII. fig. 4.) is furnished with three a-
partments, with sliding shutters: the two side ones, ab,
have always a compass in each d, to direct the ship’s
way j while the middle division c, has a lamp or candle
with a pane of glass on either side to throw a light upon
the compass in the night, whereby the man who steers
may observe it in the darkest weather, as it stands im¬
mediately before the helm on the quarter-deck. There
are always two binacles on the deck of a ship of war,
one being designed for the man who steers, and the
other for the person who superintends the steerage^
whose office is called conning.
BINAROS, a small town of Spain, in the kingdom
of Valentia, remarkable for good wine. It is seated
near the sea, in E. Long. O. 15. N. Lat. 40. 24.
BINARY ARITHMETIC, that wherein unity or 1 and
O are only used. This was the invention of M. Leib¬
nitz, who shows it to be very expeditious in discover¬
ing the properties of numbers, and in constructing
tables j and Mr Dangecourt, in the history of the
royal academy of sciences, gives a specimen of it con¬
cerning arithmetical progressionals j where he shows,
2
that because in binary arithmetic only two characters fl¬
are used, therefore the laws of progression may be Arithmetic
more easily discovered by' it than by common arithme- (I
tic. All the characters used in binary arithmetic are -^‘n^ing-
o and I ; and the cypher multiplies every thing by 2, ^ ^
as in the common arithmetic by 10. Thus 1 is one j
10, two } 11, three; 100, four; 101, five; 110, six;
in, seven 5 loop, eight; 1001, nine; 1010, ten;
which is built on the same principles with common
arithmetic. Hence immediately appears the reason of
the celebrated property of the duplicate geometrical
proportion in whole numbers ; viz. that one number
of each degree being had, we may thence compose all
the other Whole numbers above the double of the high¬
est degree. It being here, v. gr. as if one should say,
in is the sum of 4, 2, and 1, which proper-
ty may serve essayers to weigh all kinds of
masses with a little weight; and may be used
in coins, to give several values with small
pieces. This method of expressing numbers
once established, all the operations will be ea- 
sy : in multiplication particularly, there will be no need
for a table, or getting any thing by heart. The author,
however, does not recommend this method for common
use, because of the great number of figures required to
express a number; adding, that if the common progres¬
sion were from 12 to 12, or from 16 to 16, it would be
still more expeditious; but its use is in discovering the
properties of numbers, in constructing tables, &c. What
makes the binary arithmetic the more remarkable is,
that it appears to have been the same with that used
4000 years ago among the Chinese, and left in cenigma
by Fohi, the founder of their empire as well as of their
sciences.
Binary Measwe, in Music, is a measure which is
beaten equally, or where the time of rising is equal to
that of falling. This is usually called common time.
Binary Number, that composed of two units.
BINCH, a small fortified town of the Low Coun¬
tries, in the county of Hainault, subject to the house of
Austria. E. Long. 3. 21. N. Lat. 50. 23.
BIND, a country word for a stalk of hops.
Bind of Eels, a quantity, consisting of 250, or 10
strikes, each containing 25 eels.
Bind weed, in Botany. See Convolvulus, Bo¬
tany Index.
BINDBROKE, a town of Lincolnshire in England,
sealed in E. Long. o. 10. N. Lat. 53. 32.
BINDING-joists, in Architecture, are those joists
in a floor, into wdiich the trimmers of staircases, or well-
holes of the stairs, and chimney-ways, are framed : they
ought to be stronger than common joists.
Binding, in the art of defence, a method of secu¬
ring or crossing the adversary’s sword with a pressure,
accompanied with a spring from the wrist. See Beat¬
ing.
Unless a man by some kind of cross, secure, as it
were, or render his adversary’s sword incapable to of¬
fend him during the time of bis performing a lesson
upon him, it is impossible for him to be certain but
that he may receive from his adversary, either a for¬
tuitous contretemps, or an exchanged thrust, before the
recovery of his body, or going off after a thrust.-—
The great objection made by some people, particularly
those time-catchers, against the frequent use of bind¬
ing.
IOC
1C
I
III
jsjogL^her.
BIO . [ 619
Ing, is, that when a man, in performing it, cleaves too
much to his adversary’s sword, he is liable to his adver¬
sary’s slipping of him, and consequently of I'eceiving
either a plain thrust, or one from a feint.
Binding is a term in falconry, which implies tiring,
or when a hawk seizes.
Binding of Books. See BooK-Bindmg.
BING, in the alum-works, denotes a heap of alufn
thrown together in order to drain.
BLNGAZI, a sea-port town of Africa, in the king¬
dom of Tripoli. E. Long. 19. 10. N. Lat. 32. 20.
BINGEN, an ancient and handsome town of Ger¬
many, in the grand duchy of Hesse, seated at the place
where the river Nave falls into the Rhine. E. Long.
7. 48. N. Lat. 49. 55.
BINGHAM, Joseph, a learned divine, horn at
Wakefield in Yorkshire, in September 1668, educated
at University college in Oxford, and afterwards pre¬
sented by John Radcliffe, M. H. to the rectory of
Headbournworthy, near Winchester. In this country
retirement he began his learned and laborious work,
Origines Ecclesiasticce: or, The Antiquities of the Chri¬
stian church ; the first volume of which was published
in 1708, and it was completed afterwards in nine vo¬
lumes more. He published also several other books.
But notwithstanding his great learning and merit, he
had no other preferment than that of Headbournworthy
til! the year 1712, when he was collated to the rectory
of Havant, near Portsmouth, by Sir Jonathan Trelawney
bishop of Winchester, to whom he dedicated several of
his books. He died August 17th, 1723, in the 55th
year of his age.
Bingham, a town of Nottinghamshire in England,
seated in the vale of Bel voir, and containing 1326 in¬
habitants in 1811. W. Long. 1. 10. N. Lat. 50. 3.
BINGIUM, in Ancient Geography, a village or town
of the Vangiones in Gallia Belgica, seated at the con¬
fluence of the Nave and Rhine. Now Bingen, which
see.
BINGLEY, a town in the west riding of Yorkshire,
seated en the river Aire. Population 4782, including
Micklethwaite. W. Long. r. 35. N. Lat. 53. 20.
BINN, hinna, a sort of chest or cupboard, wherein
to lock up bread, meat, or other provisions. The word
is also used for a place boarded up to put corn in.
BlNN, or Bin. The pease and oatmeal, used at sea,
are apt to spoil in casks. Hr Hales proposes to prevent
this, by putting them into large binns, with false bot¬
toms of hair-cloths laid on bars, whereby fresh air may
be blown upwards through them, at proper times, with
amall ventilators.
BINOCULAR telescope, a kind of dioptric tele¬
scope fitted wfith two tubes, joined in such a manner that
one may see a distant object with both eyes at the same
time. See Optics.
BINOMIAL, in Algebra, a root consisting of two
members connected by the sign -}- or —. Thus a-\-b,
and 8—3, are binomials, consisting of the sums and dif¬
ferences of these quantities. See Algebra.
BINTAN, an island of Asia, in the East Indies, to
the south of the peninsula of Malacca, situated in E.
Long. 103. 50. N. Lat. I. o.
BIOGRAPHER, one who writes the lives of par¬
ticular persons, as Plutarch, Suetonius, &c. See the
next article.
] B I Q
BIOGRAPHY, a species of history which records Bio^rapliy
the lives and characters of remarkable persons. This is |)
at once the most entertaining and instructive kind of Bsquadia-
history. It admits of all the painting and passion ofro- , ^ '
mance ; but with this capital difference, that our pas¬
sions are more keenly interested, because the characters
and incidents are not only agreeable to nature, but
strictly true. No books are so proper to be put into the
hands of young people. See History.
BION, a bucolic poet, native of Smyrna, lived at
the same time with Ptolemy Philadelphus, whose reign
reached from the fourth year of the 123d Olympiad to
the second year of the 133d. He was an incomparable
poet, if we may believe the lamentations of his disciple
Moschus. His few pieces which are left do not con¬
tradict this testimony. See Moschus.
Bion, surnamed Borysthenites, because he was of Bo-
rysthenes, was a philosopher of a great deal of wit, but
of very little religion: he flourished about the 120th
Olympiad j but, falling sick, he, like other profane per¬
sons, became superstitious.
BIORNBURG, atown of North Finland in Sweden,
seated on the river Kune near its mouth in the gulf of
Bothnia. E. Long. 22. 35. N. Lat. 62. 6.
BIOTHANATI, (from (itct, violence, and &ey«T«j,
death), in some medical writers, denotes those who die
a violent death. The word is also written, and with
more propriety, biathanati; sometimes biceothanti.
In a more particular sense, it denotes those who kill
themselves, more properly called autothanati. In this
sense it is that the word is used both by Greek and La¬
tin writers. By the ancient discipline of the church,
they were punished by denying them burial, and refu¬
sing all commemoration of them in the prayers and offi¬
ces of the church.
Biothanati (supposed by some to be derived from
life, and Oxvn.ro?, death, and alluding to the belief
of it future life after death) was also a name of reproach
given by the Heathens to the primitive Christians, for
their constancy and forwardness to lay down their lives
in martyrdom.
BIOTHANATOS is also used, in some writers of
the barbarous age, for wicked, damnable, or accursed.
BIOUAC, Bivouac, or Biovac, in the military
art, a nightly guard performed by the whole army,
when there is an apprehension of danger from the ene¬
my. The word is formed by corruption from the Ger¬
man, weywaght, a double watch or guard.
BIPENNIS, a two-edged axe, used anciently by the
Amazons in fight 5 as also by the seamen, to cut asun¬
der the ropes and cordage of the enemy’s vessels. The
bipennis was a weapon chiefly of the oriental nations,
made like a double axe, or two axes joined back to
back, with a short handle. Modern writers usually
compare it to our halbard or partizan $ from which it
differed in that it had no point, or that its shaft or
handle was much shorter.
BIQUAHRATE, or Biquadratic, is the next
power above the cube, or the square multiplied by it¬
self.
BIQUADRATIC equation, in Algebra, an equa¬
tion raised to the fourth power, or where the unknown
quantity of one of the terms has four dimensions : Thus
-j-oA:3ig a biquadratic equation.
See Algebra.
4 I 2
Biquadratic
bir
.fci«|[in(fi'.itic Biquadratic Parabola^ in Geometry, a curve line of
i’araboU the third order, having two infinite legs tending the
Birch. same Way> ^ee Parabola.
*>—w Biquadratic Power oj any number, is the fourth
power or squared square of that number: Thus 16
is the biquadratic power of 2} for 2x2=4, and
4 x 4= 16
Biquadratic Root of any number, is the square root
ot the square root of that number : Thus the biquadra ¬
tic root of 81 is 3 j lor the square root of 81 is 9, and
the square root of 9 is 3.
BIQUALAR, in the customs of the Algerines, a
took of the divan.—The janizaries, whom the Alge¬
rines call oldachis, after serving a certain term as com¬
mon soldiers, are preferred to be biqualars, or cooks
of the divan, which is the first step towards arriving at
higher preferment. Biqualars have the care of furnish¬
ing the officers and commanders of the Algerine sol¬
diery with meat and drink in the camp, in garrison, &c.
P 1'or*i biqualars they are made odobachis ; this is, cor¬
porals of companies, or commanders of squadrons.
BIQUINTILE, an aspect of the planets, when they
are 144 degrees distant from each other. It is thus
called, because they are distant from one another by
twice the fifth part of 360 degrees.
BIR, or Berr, a town of the province of Diarbeck
in lurkey in Asia, with a castle where the governor re¬
sides, seated on the eastern bank of the river Euphrates,
near a high mountain, in a very pleasant and fertile coun¬
try. E. Long. 38. 6. N. Lat. 36. 10.
BIRAGUE, Clement, a Milanese engraver, and
the inventor of the art of cutting diamonds, flourished
about the year 15S0.
BIRCH-tree. See Betula, Botany Index.
BiRCH-Bark, being bituminous, and consequently
warm and emollient, is used in fumigations to correct
a distempered air. The inner silken bark was anciently
used for writing-tables before the invention of paper j
though Ray rather assigns the office or paper to the
cuticle, or outer skin, which peels off yearly. And
with the outward, thicker, and coarser part, are houses
in Russia, Poland, and other northern tracts, covered
instead of slates and tyle. The Indians make pinnaces
with white cedar, which they cover with large flakes
of birch-bark j sewing them with thread of spruce roots,
and pitching them, as the ancient Britons did, with
the willow. Pliny speaks of a bitumen actually pro¬
cured from the birch tree.
Fungus of Birch, an excrescence growing on its
trunk. It is astringent, and good against hemon hagies.
When boiled, beaten, and dried in an oven, it makes
excellent spunk or touchwood.
BiRCH-Leaves are of use in the dropsy, itch, &c.
either internally or externally applied.
BiRCH-Twigs serve to make rods and brooms : smear¬
ed with bird-lime, they are used by fowlers j to say no¬
thing of the ancient fasces carried by lictors.
BiRCH-TFine is made by fermenting the vernal juice.
Formerly it was in great repute against all nephritic
disorders, but is left out in the modern London prac¬
tice. The preparation of birch-wine is well and am¬
ply described in a book entitled Vinetum Britanni-
cum.
Birch, T)r Thomas, an eminent historical and bio¬
graphical writer, was born in London in 1705. His
620 ] BIR
parents were both of them Quakers ; and his father
Joseph Birch, was a coffee-mill maker by trade!
Thomas being put to school, was indefatigable in
his application, and stole many hours from sleep to
increase his stock of knowledge. By this unremit¬
ting diligence, though he had not the happiness of an
university education, he soon became qualified to take
holy orders in the church of England, to the surprise
of his acquaintance. In 1728116 married the daugh¬
ter of the Rev. Mr Cox, to whom he was curate:
but his felicity was of short duration, Mrs Birch dy¬
ing of a puerperal fever in less than 12 months after
their marriage j an event which he deplores in a very
elegant and pathetic poem, preserved in Nichols’s
Collection. In 1732 he was recommended to the
friendship and favour of the late lord high chancel¬
lor Hardwicke, then attorney general ; to which noble
peer, and to the present earl of Hardwicke, he was
indebted for all his preferments. The first proof he
experienced of his patron’s regard was the living of
Ulting in the county of Essex, in the gift of the
crown, to which he was presented 1732. In 1734 he
ivas appointed one of the domestic chaplains to the
unfortunate earl of Kilmarnock, who was beheaded in
1746. Mr Birch was chosen a member of the Royal
Society, Feb. 20. 1734-5 5 and of the Society of An¬
tiquaries, Dec. 11. 1735, of which he afterwards be¬
came director till his death. Before this, the Ma-
rischal college of Aberdeen had conferred on him, by
diploma, the degree of master of arts. In 1743, by
the interest of Lord Hardwicke, he was presented by
the crown to the sinecure rectory of Landewy Welfrey
in the county of Pembroke ; and in 1743-4 was Pre*
ferred, in the same manner, to the rectory of Siding-
ton in St Peter’s, in the county and diocese of Glouces¬
ter. We find no traces of his having taken possession
of this living j and indeed it is probable that he quit¬
ted^ it immediately for one more suitable to his incli¬
nations and to his literary engagements, which requi¬
red his almost constant residence in town 5 for on the
24th of February 1743-4, he was instituted to the
united rectories of St Michael Woodstreet, and St
Mary Staining j and in 1745-6, to the united rectories
of St Margaret Pattens and St Gabriel, Fenchurch-
street (by lord chancellor Hardwicke, in whose turn
the presentation then was). In January 1752, he was
elected one of the secretaries of the Royal Society, in
the room of Dr Cromwell Mortimer, deceased. In
January I753» ^ie Marischal college of Aberdeen cre¬
ated him doctor of divinity ; and in that year the
same degree was conferred on him by Archbishop Her¬
ring. He was one of the trustees of the British Mu¬
seum ; for which honour he was probably indebted to
the present earl of Hardwicke, as he was for his last
preferment, the rectory of Depden in Essex, to which
he was inducted Feb. 26. 1761. In the latter part of
his life he was chaplain to the Princess Amelia. In
1765 he resigned his office of secretary to the Royal
Society, and was succeeded by Dr Morton. His
health declining about this time, he was ordered to
ride for the recovery of it ; but being a bad horsemen,
and going out Jan. 9. 1766, he was unfortunately
thrown from his horse, on the road betwixt London
and Hampstead, and died on the spot, in the 61st
year of his age, to the great regret of the doctor’s
numerous
B I R
[ 621 ]
B I R
numerous literary friemls ; and was buried in St Mar-
garet Pattens. Dr Birch had in his lifetime been very
generous to his relations ; and none that were nearly
allied to him being living at his decease, he bequeathed
his library of books and manuscripts, with his picture
painted in 1735, and all his other pictures and prints
not otherwise disposed of by his will, to the British
Museum. He likewise left the remainder of his for¬
tune, which amounted to not much more than 500I.
to be laid out in government-securities, for the purpose
of applying the interest to increase the stipend of the
three assistant librarians; thus manifesting at his death,
as he had done during his whole life, his respect for
literature, and his desire to promote useful know¬
ledge. To the Royal Society he bequeathed his pic¬
ture painted by Wills in 1737, being the original of
the mezzotinto print done by Pauber in I74i- His
principal publications were, 1. The General Diction¬
ary, Historical and Critical ; including a new transla¬
tion of Mr Bayle, and interspersed with several thou¬
sand new lives. Dr Birch’s associates in this under¬
taking were, the Reverend John Peter Bernard, Mr
John Lockman, and Mr George Sale. The whole
design was completed in 10 volumes folio. 2. Dr
Cudworth’s Intellectual System (improved from the
Batin edition of Mosheim), his Discourse on the
true Notion of the Lord’s Supper, and two Sermons,
with an account of his Life and Writings, 2 vols. 4to,
1743. 3. The Life of the Honourable Robert Boyle,
1744; prefixed to an edition of that excellent philoso¬
pher’s works, revised by Dr Birch. 4. The Lives
of Illustrious Persons of Great Britain, annexed to
the engravings of Houbraken and Vertue, 1747—
1752. 5. An Inquiry into the Share which King
Charles I. had in the Transactions of the earl of Gla¬
morgan, 1747, 8vo. 6. An edition of Spenser’s Fairy
Queen, I75I> 3 vols. quarto, with prints from designs
by Kent. 7. The Miscellaneous Works of Sir Wal¬
ter Raleigh ; to which w’as prefixed the Life of that
great, unfortunate, and injured man, 1751, 2 vols. 8vo.
8. The Theological, Moral, Dramatic, and Poetical
Works of Mrs Catharine Cockburri; with an Account
of the Life of that very ingenious Lady, 1751, 2 vols.
8vo. 9. The Life of the Most Reverentl Dr John
Tillotson, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. Compiled
chiefly from his original Papers and Letters, 1752,
8vo. 10. Milton’s Prose Works, 1753, 2 vols. 410 ;
with a New Life of that great poet and writer, n. Me¬
moirs of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, from the
year 1581 till her death. In which the secret in¬
trigues of her court, and the conduct of her favourite
Robert earl of Essex, both at home and abroad, are
particularly illustrated. From the original papers of
his intimate friend Anthony Bacon, Esq.; and other
manuscripts never before published, 1754, 2 vols. 4to.
12. The History of the Royal Society of London for
improving natural knowledge, from its first rise. In
which the most considerable of those papers commu¬
nicated to the Society, which have hitherto not been
published, are inserted in their proper order as a supple¬
ment to the Philosophical Transactions, 1756 and
1757, 4 voK 4l0> 13. The Life of Henry Prince of
Wales, eldest Son of King James I. Compiled chiefly
from his own papers and other manuscripts, never be¬
fore published, 1760, 8vo. His numerous coramuni-
tions to the Royal Society may be seen in the Philoso¬
phical Transactions ; and his poetical talents are evi¬
dent from the verses already referred to.
BIRD, William, an eminent musician and com¬
poser, was one of the children ot the chapel in the reign
of Edward VI. and, as it is. asserted by Wood in the
Ashmolean MS. was bred up under Tallis. It ap¬
pears, that in 1575 Tallis and Bird were'both gentle¬
men and also organists of the royal chapel ; but the
time of their appointment to this latter offieO cannot
now be ascertained.
The compositions of Bird are many and various ;
those of his younger years were mostly for the service
of the church. He composed a work entitled Sa-
crarum Cantionum, quinque vocum, printed in 1589 ;
among which is that noble composition, Civitas sancti
U/i, which for many years past has been sung in the
church, as an anthem, to the words “ Bow thine ear,
O Lord.” He was also the author of a work entitled
Gradualia, ac Cantiones sacrce, quinis, quaternis, trims-
que ’vocibus concinnalce, lib. primus. Of this there are
two editions, the latter published in 1610. Although
it appears by these his works that Bird was in the strict¬
est sense a church musician, he occasionally gave to the
world compositions of a secular kind : and he seems
to be the first among English musicians that ever made
an essay in the composition of that elegant species of
vocal harmony, the madrigal : the La Verginella of A-
riosto, which he set in that form for five voices, being
the most ancient musical composition of the kind to be
met with in the works of English authors. Of his com¬
positions for private entertainment, there are extant,
“ Songs of sundry natures, some of gravitie, and others
of myrth, fit for all companies and voyces, printed in
1589 and two other collections of the same kind, the
last of them printed in 1611. But the most permanent
memorials of Bird’s excellencies are his motets and an¬
thems ; to which may be added, a fine service in the
key of D with the minor third, the first composition in
Dr Boyce’s Cathedral Music, vol. iii, and that well-
known canon of his, Non nobis Domine.
Besides his salaries and other emoluments of his pro¬
fession, it is to be supposed that Bird derived some ad¬
vantages from the patent granted by Queen Elizabeth to
Tallis and him, for the sole printing of music and music-
paper : Dr Ward speaks of a book which he had seen
with the letters T. E. for Thomas East, Est, or Este,
who printed music under that patent. Tallis dying in
1585, the patent, by the terms of it, survived to Bird,
who, no doubt for a valuable consideration, permitted
East to exercise the right of printing under the pro¬
tection of it ; and he in the title page of most of his
publications styles himself the assignee of William Byrd.
Bird died in 1623.
BIRD, in Zoology. See Anatomy, and Ornitho¬
logy Index.
Beam-BiRD, or Petty-chaps. See Motacilla.
Black-BiRD.
Blue-BiRD.
Canary-BiRD.
JLung-BiRD.
Humming-BiRD.
Moc fang-Bird.
Bird of Paradise.
BiRD-Call) a little stick, cleft at one end, in which
is
Birch
Bird-Call.
> See Ornithology Index.
J
bir [62
Pird- is put a leaf of some plant, wherewith to counterfeit
('ateliing. the cry or call of several birds, and bring them to the
net, or snare, or lime-twig, to be taken. A laurel-
leaf fitted on the bird-call, counterfeits the voice of
lapwings ; a leek that of nightingales, &c.
BiRD-Catc/iing, the art of taking birds or wild fowl,
whether for food, for the pleasure of their song, or for
their destruction as pernicious to the husbandman, &c.
The methods are by bird-lime, nets, decoys, &c. See
BiRD-Lime, infra •, and Dfxoy.
In the suburbs of London (and particularly about
Shoreditch) are several weavers and other tradesmen,
who, during the months of October and March, get
their livelihood by an ingenious, and, we may say, a
scientific method of bird-catching, which is totally un¬
known in other parts of Great Britain. The reason of
Barriagton tra^e he<ng confined to so small a compass, arises
from there being no considerable sale for singing-birds
except in the metropolis : as the apparatus for this pur¬
pose is also heavy, and at the same time must be carried
on a man’s back, it prevents the bird-catchers going to
above three or four miles distance.
This method of bird-catching must have been long
practised, as it is brought to a most systematical per¬
fection, and is attended with a very considerable ex¬
pence.
The nets are a most ingenious piece of mechanism j
are generally twelve yards and a half long, and two
yards and a half wide ; and no one, on bare inspection,
would imagine that a bird (which is so very quick in all
its motions) could be catched by the nets flapping over
each other, till he becomes eye witness of the pullers
seldom failing.
The wild birds fly (as the bird-catchers term it)
chiefly during the month of October, and part of Sep¬
tember and November; as the flight in March is much
less considerable than that of Michaelmas. It is to be
noted also, that the several species of birds offlight do
not make their appearance precisely at the same time,
during the months of September, October, and Novem¬
ber. The pippet (a), for example, begins to fly. about
Michaelmas j and then the woodlark, linnet, goldfinch,
chaffinch, greenfinch, and other birds of flight succeed j
all of which are not easily to be caught, or in any num¬
bers, at any other time, and more particularly the pippet
and the woodlard.
These birds, during the Michaelmas and March
flights, are chiefly on the wing from daybreak to
noon, though there is afterwards a small flight from
two till night j but this however is so inconsiderable,
that the bird-catchers always take up their nets at
noon.
It may well deserve the attention of the naturalist
whence these periodical flights of certain birds can
arise. As the ground, however, is ploughed during
the months of October and March for sowing the
British
Zoology,
yoI. ii.
append.
N® iv. by
the Ho¬
nourable
T'itj 1 n no
2 ] BIB
winter and lent corn, it should seem that they are thus
supplied with a great profusion both of seeds and in¬
sects, which they cannot so easily procure at any other
season.
It may not be improper to mention another circum¬
stance, to be observed during their flitting, viz. that
they fly always against the wind : hence there is great
contention amongst the bird-catchers who shall gain
that point ; if (for example); it is westerly, the bird-
catcher who lays his nets most to the east, is sure almost
of catching every thing, provided his call-birds are
good : a gentle wind to the south-west generally pro¬
duces the best sport.
The bird-catcher, who is a substantial man, and
hath a proper apparatus for this purpose, generally
carries with him five or six linnets, (of which more are
caught than any singing bird), two goldfinches, two
greenfinches, one woodlark, one redpoll, a yellow-
hammer, titlark, and aberdavine, and perhaps a bull¬
finch j these are placed at small distances from the nets
in little cages. He hath, besides, what are called flur-
birds, which are placed within the nets, are raised upon
the flur (b), and gently let down at the time the wild
bird approaches them. These generally consist of the
linnet, the goldfinch, and ^the greenfinch, which are
secured to the flur by what is called a brace (c) 5 a
contrivance that secures the birds without doing any
injury to their plumage.
It having been found that there is a superiority be¬
tween bird and bird, from the one being more in song
than the other $ the bird-catchers contrive that their
call-birds should moult before the usual time. They
therefore, in June or July, put them into a close box
under two or three folds of blankets, and leave their
dung in the cage to raise a greater heat; in which state
they continue, being perhaps examined but once a-week
to have fresh water. As for food, the air is so putrid,
that they eat little during the whole state of confinement,
which lasts about a month. The birds frequently die
under the operation j and hence the value of a stopped
bird rises greatly. When the bird hath thus prema¬
turely moulted, he is in song whilst the rvild birds are
out of song, and his note is louder and more piercing
than that of a wild one j but it is not only in his note
he receives an alteration, the plumage is equally im¬
proved. The black and yellow in the wings of the
goldfinch, for example, become deeper and more vivid,
together with a most beautiful gloss, which is not to be
seen in the wild bird. The bill, which in the latter is
likewise black at the end, in the stopped bird becomes
white and more taper, as do its legs : in short, there is
as much difference between a wild and a stopped bird,
as there is between a horse which is kept in body-
clothes and one at grass.
When the bird-catcher hath laid his nets, he dis¬
poses of his call-birds at proper intervals. It must be
owned
(a) A small species of lark, but which is inferior to other birds of that genus in point of song.
(b) A moveable perch to which the bird is tied, and which the bird-catcher can raise at pleasure by means of
a long string fastened to it.
(c) A sort of bandage, formed of a slender silken string that is fastened round the bird’s body, and under
the wings, in so artful a manner as to hinder the bird from being hurt, let it flutter ever so much in the
raising. ,
-B I R [ 623 ] B I R
owned that there is most malicious joy in these call-
birds to bring the wild ones into the same state of cap¬
tivity : which may likewise be observed with regard to
the decoy ducks. See Decoy.
Their sight and hearing infinitely excel that of the
bird-catcher. The instant that the (d) wild birds are
perceived, notice is given by one to the rest of the call-
birds, (as it is by the first hound that hits on the scent
to the rest of the pack) j after which, follows the same
sort of tumultuous ecstacy and joy. The call-birds,
while the bird is at a distance, do not sing as a bird does
in a chamber } they invite the wild ones by what the
bird-catchers call short jerks, which, when the birds are
good, may be heard at a great distance. The ascend¬
ency by this call or invitation is so great, that the wild
bird is stopped in its course of flight; and, if not already
acquainted with the nets (e), lights boldly within 20
yards of perhaps three or four bird-catchers, on a spot
which otherwise it would not have taken the least notice
of. Nay, it frequently happens, that if half a flock
only are caught, the remaining half will immediately
afterwards light in the nets, and share the same fate j
and should only one bird escape, that bird will suffer
itself to be pulled at till it is caught j such a fascinating
power have the call-birds.
While we are on this subject of the jerking of birds,
we cannot omit mentioning, that the bird-catchers fre¬
quently lay considerable wagers whose call-bird can jerk
the longest, as that determines the superiority. They
place them opposite to each other, by an inch of can¬
dle } and the bird who jerks the oftenest, before the
candle is burnt out, wins the wager. We have been
informed, that there have been instances of a bird’s giv¬
ing 170 jerks in a quarter of an hour; and we have
known a linnet, in such a trial, persevere in its emula¬
tion till it swooned from the perch : thus, as Pliny says
of the nightingale, x'icta morte jinit scepe vitam, spiritu
prius dejiciente quam cantu *. It may be here observed,
that birds when near each other, and in sight, seldom
jerk or sing. They either fight, or use short and wheel¬
ing calls ; the jerking of these call-birds, therefore, face
to face, is a most extraordinary instance of contention
for superiority in song.
To these we may add a few particulars that fell
within our notiqe during our inquiries •among the bird-
catchers ; such as, that they immediately kill the hens
of every species of birds they take, being incapable .of
singing, as also being inferior in plumage ; the pippets
likewise are indiscriminately destroyed, as the cock does
not sing well: they sell the dead birds for threepence
or fourpence a dozen. These small birds are so good,
that we are surprised the luxury of the age neglects so
delicate an acquisition to the table. The modern Ita¬
lians are fond of small birds, which they eat under the
common name of beccaficos : and the dear rate a Roman
tragedian paid for one dish of singing birds is well
known ; (see the article iEsop).
Another particular we learned, in conversation with
a London bird-catcher, was the vast price that is some- Bird-
times given fora single song-bird, which had not learned Catching
to whistle tunes. The greatest sum we heard of, w'as v *'
five guineas for a chaffinch, that had a particular and
uncommon note, under which it was intended to train
others : and w'e also heard of five pounds ten shillings
being given for a call-bird linnet.
A third singular circumstance, which confirms an
observation of Linnaeus, is, that the male chaffinches fly
by themselves, and in the flight precede the females;
but this is not peculiar to the chaffinches.* When the
titlarks are caught in the beginning of the season, it
frequently happens, that forty are taken and not one
female among them : and probably the same would be
observed with regard to other birds (as has been done
with relation to the wheat-ear), if they w7ere attended
to. An experienced and intelligent bird-catcher in¬
formed us, that such birds as breed twice a-year, ge¬
nerally have in their first brood a majority of males,
and in their second, of females, which may in part ac¬
count for the above observation.
We must not omit mention of the bullfinch, though
it does not properly come under the title of a singing
bird, or a bird of flight, as it does not often move
farther than from hedge to hedge j yet, as the bird
sells well on account of its learning to whistle tunes,
and sometimes flies over the fields where the nets are
laid, the bird-catchers have often a call-bird to ensnare
it, though most of them can imitate the call with their
mouths. It is remarkable with regard to this bird,
that the female answers the purpose of a call-bird as
well as the male, which is not experienced in any other
bird taken by the London bird-catchers.
The nightingale is not a bird of flight, in the sense
the bird-catchers use this term. Like the robin, wren,
and many other singing birds, it only moves from hedge
to hedge, and does not take the periodical flights in
October and March. The persons, who catch these
birds, make use of small trap-nets, without call-birds ;
and are considered as inferior in dignity to other bird-
catchers, who will not rank with them. The arrival of
the nightingale is expected by the trappers in the
neighbourhood of London, the first week in April : at
the beginning, none but cocks are taken ; hut in a few
days the hens make their appearance, generally by
themselves, though sometimes a few males come along
with them. The latter are distinguished from the fe¬
males not only by their superior size, but by a great
swelling of their vent, which commences on the first ar¬
rival of the hens. They are caught in a net-trap, the
bottom of which is" surrounded with an iron-ring ; the
net itself is rather larger than a cabbage net. When
the trappers hear or see them, they strew some fresh
mould under the place, and bait the trap with a meal¬
worm from the baker’s shop. Ten or a dozen night¬
ingales have been thus caught in a day.
The common way of taking larks, of which so
many are used at our tables, is in the night, with
those
(d) It may be also observed, that the moment they see a hawk, they communicate the alarm to each other by
a plaintive note; nor will they then jerk or call though the wild birds are near.
(e) A bird acquainted with the nets, is by the bird-catchers termed a sharper j which they endeavour to drive
away, as they can have no sport whilst it continues near them.
b I R ; [
Bird- those nets which are called trammels. These are
Catchiiifj. usually made of 36 yards in length, and about six
t"“’1 'r' yards over, with six ribs of pack-thread, which at the
ends are put upon two poles of about 16 feet long, and
made lesser at each end. These are to be drawn over
the ground hy two men, and every five or six steps the
net is made to touch the ground, otherwise it will pass
over the birds without touching them, and they will es¬
cape. When they are felt to fly up against the net, it
is clapped down, and then all are safe that are under it.
The darkest nights are propei’est for this sport; and
the net will not only take larks, but all other birds that
roost on the ground 5 among which are woodcocks,
snipes, partridges, quails, fieldfares, and several others.
In the depth of winter people sometimes take great
numbers of larks by nooses of horse-hair. The method
is this: Take 100 or 200 yards of pack-thread j fasten
at every six inches a noose made of double horse-hair 5
at every 20 yards the line is to be pegged down to the
ground, and so left ready to take them. The time to
use this is when the ground is covered with snow, and
the larks are to be allured to it by some wdiite oats
scattered all the way among the nooses. They must
be taken away as soon as three or four are hung, other¬
wise the rest will be frighted ; but though the others
are scared awray just where the sportsman comes, they
will be feeding at the other end of the line, and the
sport may be thus continued for a long time. Those
caught in the day are taken in clap-nets of fifteen yards
length, and two and a half in breadth ; and are en¬
ticed within the reach by means of bits of looking-
glass, fixed in a piece of wood, and placed in the mid¬
dle of the nets, which are- put in a quick whirling
motion by a string the larker commands ; he also
makes use of a decoy lark. These nets are used only
till the 14th November : for the larks will not dare, or
frolic in the air, except in fine sunny weather *, and of
course cannot be inveigled into the snare. When the
weather grows gloomy, the larker changes his engine,
and makes use of a trammel net, twenty-seven or
twenty-eight feet long, and five broad ; which is put
on two poles, eighteen feet long, and carried by men
under each arm, who pass over the fields and quarter
the ground as a setting dog : when they hear or feel a
lark hit the net, they drop it down, and so the birds
are taken.
Multitudes of the inhabitants of each cluster of the
Orkney isles feed during the season on the eggs of
the birds of the cliffs. The method of taking them is
so very hazardous, as to satisfy one of the extremity
to which the poor people are driven for want of food.
Copinsha, Hunda, Hoy, Foula, and Noss-head, are
the most celebrated rocks 5 and the neighbouring na¬
tives the most expert climbers and adventurers after
the game of the precipice. The height of some is
above fifty fathoms j their faces roughened with shelves
or ledges sufficient only for the birds to rest and
lay their eggs. To these the dauntless fowlers will
ascend, pass intrepidly from the one to the other, col¬
lect the eggs and birds, and descend with the same in¬
difference. In most places the attempt is made from
above : they are lowered from the slope contiguous to
the brink, by a rope, sometimes made of straw, some¬
times of the bristles of the hog : they prefer the last
even to ropes of hemp, as it is not so liable to be cut by
624 ] Bin
e the sharpness of the rocks ; the former is apt to un-
x twist. They trust themselves to a single assistant, who Catching
lets his companion down, and holds the rope, depend-
ing on his strength alone ; which often fails, and the
adventurer is sure to be dashed to pieces, or drowned
in the subjacent sea. The rope is often shifted from
place to place, with the impending weight of the
fowler and his booty. The person above receives sig¬
nals for the purpose, his associate being far out of sight,
who, during the operation, by help of a staff, springs
from the face of the rock, to avoid injury from the pro¬
jecting parts.
But the most singular species of bird-catching is on
the holm of Noss, a vast rock severed from the isle of
Noss by some unknown convulsion, and only about
sixteen fathoms distant. It is of the same stupendous
height as the opposite precipice, with a raging sea
between ; so that the intertening chasm is of match¬
less horror. Some adventurous climber has reached
the rock in a boat, gained the height, and fastened
several stakes on the small portion of earth which is to
be found on the top ; correspondent stakes are placed
on the edge of the correspondent cliffs. A rope is
fixed to the stakes on both sides, along which a ma¬
chine, called a cradle, is contrived to slide; and, by
the help of a small parallel cord fastened in like man¬
ner, the adventurer wafts himself over, and returns
with his booty.
The manner of bird-catching (see Plate XC. fig. 7.)
in the Feroe islands is so very strange and hazardous,
that the description should by no means be omitted.
Necessity compels mankind to wonderful attempts.
The cliff's which contain the object of their search are
often two hundred fathoms in height, and are attempt¬
ed from above and below. In the first case, the fowl¬
ers provide themselves with a rope 80 or 100 fathoms
in length. The fowler fastens one end about his waist
and between his legs, recommends himself to the pro¬
tection of the Almighty, and is lowered down by six
others, who place a piece of timber on the margin of
the rock, to preserve the rope from wearing against the
sharp edge. They have besides a small line fastened
to the body of the adventurer, by which he gives sig¬
nals that they may lower or raise him, or shift him
from place to place. The last operation is attended
with great danger, by the loosening of the stones,
which often fall on his head, and would infallibly de¬
stroy him, was it not protected by a strong thick cap;
but even that is found unequal to save him against the
weight of the larger fragments of rock. The dexteri¬
ty of the fowlers is amazing j they will place their feet
against the front of the precipice, and dart themselves
some fathoms from it, with a cool eye survey the places
where the birds nestle, and again shoot into their
haunts. In some places the birds lodge in deep reces¬
ses. The fowler will alight there, disengage himself
from the rope, fix it to a stone, and at his leisure col¬
lect the booty, fasten it to his girdle, and resume his
pendulous, seat. At times he will again spring from -
the rock, and in that attitude, with a fowling-net
placed at the end of a staff, catch the old birds
which are flying to and from their retreats. When he
hath finished his dreadful employ, he gives a signal to
his friends above, who pull him up, and share the hard-
earned profit. The feathers are preserved for exporta¬
tion :
BIB [ 625 ] BIB
$1. tion : the flesh is partly eaten fresh, but the greater por-
Caluing. tion dried for winter’s provision.
' - The fowling from below has its share of danger.
The party goes on the expedition in a boat j and when
it has attained the base of the precipice, one of the
most daring having fastened a rope about his waist, and
furnished himself with a long pole with an iron hook
at one end, either climbs, oris thrust up by his compa¬
nions, who place a pole under his breech, to the next
footing spot he can reach. He, by means of the rope,
brings up one of the boat’s crew ; the rest are drawn
up in the same manner, and each is furnished with his
rope and fowling staff. They then continue their pro¬
gress upwards in the same manner, till they arrive at
the region of birds 5 and wander about the face of the
cliff in search of them. They then act in pairs 5 one
fastens himself to the end of his associate’s rope, and
in places where birds have nestled beneath his footing,
he permits himself to be lowered down, depending for
his security on the strength of his companion, who has
to haul him up again : but it sometimes happens that
the person above is overpowered by the weight, and
both inevitably perish. They fling the fowl into the
boat, which attends their motions, and receives the
booty. They often pass seven or eight days in this
tremendous employ, and lodge in the crannies which
they find in the face of the precipice.
p],iteLc In some remote parts of Russia there is practised a
jj,, s> * singular invention for taking great quantities of geli-
nottes or grous. They choose the most open places in
the birch woods j and there they plant long forks in
the earth opposite the larger trees. On these forks is
laid a horizontal stick, gallows-wise, to which are tied
small bundles of ears of corn. At a small distance
from this part of the contrivance, is a kind of large
funnel or inverted cone, made with long birch twigs,
thin and flexible, the lower extremities of which are
stuck in the earth, very near to one another •, but by
spreading towards the top, forms there an opening of
above a yard in diameter. In this opening is placed a
wheel made of two circles that intersect each other,
and are surrounded with straw and ears of corn. This
wheel turns on an axis fastened to the side of the fun¬
nel, in such a manner, that there is room enough be¬
tween the sticks of the cone and the circles to admit of
the wheel’s turning freely about. The birds first perch
upon the transverse stick near the tree 5 and when they
have a mind to fall upon the corn tied to the wheel,
they must necessarily stand upon one of the projecting
parts of the circles of which it is composed. At that
instant the wheel turns, and the gelinotte falls, head
foremost, to the bottom of the trap, which is there so
contracted that he cannot get out. They sometimes
find the machine half full of gelinottes.
The following method of netting or catching of wild
pigeons is eagerly pursued as a diversion in different
parts of Italy, particularly by the inhabitants of Cava
in the Hither Principato, and is thus described by
Mr S winburne. The people “ assemble in parties 5
and if any stranger chances to stray to their rendez¬
vous, they"give him a most cordial welcome. I am not
in the least surprised (says Mr Swinburne) at their pas¬
sionate fondness for this sport, as I found it extremely
bewitching, keeping the attention constantly alive, and
Vol. III. Part II. 4.
the springs of the mind pleasingly agitated by expee- Bird-
tation j the situations where the toils are spread are in- Catching,
comparably beautiful, the air is pure and balsamic, Lime.
and every thing around breathes health and satisfac- y '
tion. When the periodical flights of stock-doves re¬
turn from the northern and western parts of Europe to
gain warmer regions for their winter abode, the fowler
repairs to the mountain, and spreads his nets across the
intermediate hollows, the passes through which the
birds direct their course, to avoid unnecessary eleva¬
tion in their flight. These nets are hung upon a row
of large trees planted for the purpose. The branches
being very thick and close at top, and the pole lofty
and bare, a great opening is left below for the toils,
which reach to the ground 5 and, by means of pulleys,
fall in a heap with the least effort. Sometimes they
are extended upon poles that exceed the height of the
trees. At a small distance is a lofty circular turret,
like a column with a little capital or cap, upon which
a man is stationed to watch the approach of the game.
As he commands a free view over all the country, and
practice has made his sight acute as that of the. lynx,
he descries the birds at a wonderful distance. The
doves advance with great velocity ; but the alert
watchman is prepared for them ; and just as they ap¬
proach his post, hurls a stone above them with a sling ;
upon this the whole flock, whose fears have birds of
prey for their great object, supposing the stone to be
an enemy of that kind ready to pounce them, dart
down likeHightning to avoid the blow by passing un¬
der the trees ; but there they rush into the jaws of
death, by dashing against the net, which instantly
drops, and so entangles them that not one of them can
escape the active hands of the fowler. These birds
are sometimes taken by dozens at one fall, and are ac¬
counted fine eating. The dexterity with which the
slingers manage their weapon is very remarkable j they
throw the stone to a great height without any violent
effort, and even without whirling the sling round be¬
fore they discharge the pellet. In the Pyrenean moun¬
tains, where the same diversion is followed, the watch¬
men use a bow and arrow, trimmed with the feathers
of a hawk.”
The following simple but ingenious method of catch¬
ing aquatic birds is used in Mexico bv the natives.
The lakes of the Mexican vale, as well as others of the
kingdom, are frequented by a prodigious number of
ducks, geese, and other water-birds. The Mexicans
leave some empty gourds to float upon the water,
where those birds resort, that they may be accustomed
to see and approach them without fear. The bird-
catcher goes into the water so deep as to hide his
body, and covers his head with a gourd j.the ducks
come to peck at it; and then he pulls them by the feet
under water j and in this manner secures as many as he
pleases.
Bird-Lime, a viscid substance, prepared after differ¬
ent ways. The most common bird-lime among us is
made from holly-bark, boiled ten or twelve hours ;
when the green coat being separated from the other, it
is covered up a fortnight in a moist place; then pound¬
ed into a tough paste, so that no fibres of the wood are
discernible, and washed in a running stream till no
motes appear; put up to ferment four or five days,
4 K skimmed
B I R [ 626 ] B I It
Bird-Lime, skimmed as often as any thing arises, and laid up for
v“—“v~—' use. To use it, a third part of nut-oil, or thin grease,
must be incorporated with it over the fire.
The juice of holly-bark is a very peculiar substance.
But if trials were made, it seems probable, that many
other juices would be found to have the same clammy
nature. TLhe misletoe affords a juice even superior to
that of the holly j and il a yountr shoot of the common
alder be cut through, there will a stringy juice draw
out in threads, and follow the knife like bird-lime or
the juice of the holly. It seems in this tree to be lodg¬
ed, not in the bark, but in certain veins just within the
circle of the wood. The roots of all the hyacinths also
afford a tough and stringy juice of the same kind ; and
so does the asphodel, the narcissus, and the black bryony
root, in a surprising quantity.
When twigs, &c. smeared with bird-lime, are to be
put in places subject to wet, the common bird-lime is
apt to have its force soon taken away. It is necessary,
therefore, to have recourse to a particular sort, which,
from its property of bearing water unhurt, is called
water bird-lime ; and is prepared thus: Take a pound
of strong and good bird-lime 5 wash it thoroughly in
spring-water, till the hardness is all removed j and
then beat it well, that the water may be clean separa¬
ted, so as not a drop remains j then dry it well, and
put it into an earthen pot 5 add to it as much capon’s
grease as will make it run. Then add two spoonfuls
of strong vinegar, one spoonful of oil, and a small quan¬
tity of Venice turpentine. Let the whole boil for
some minutes over a moderate fire, stirring it all the
time. Then take it off: and when there is occasion to
use it, warm it, and cover the sticks well with it. This
is the best sort of bird-lime for snipes and other birds
that love wet places.
The most successful method of using the common
bird-lime is this: Cut down the main branch or bough
of any bushy tree whose twigs are thick, straight, long,
and smooth, and have neither knots nor prickles. The
willow and the birch-tree afford the best of this kind.
Let all the superfluous shoots be trimmed off, and the
twigs all made neat and clean ; they must all be well
covered with the bird-lime, within four inches of the
bottom ; but the main bough from which they grow
must not be touched with the lime. No part of the
bark, where the lime should come, must be left bare :
but it is a nice matter to lay it on properly j for if it
be too thick it will give the birds a distaste, and they
will not come near it; and if there be too little of it,
it will not hold them when they are there. When the
bush is thus prepared, it must be set up in some dead
hedge, or among some growing bushes near the out¬
skirts of a town, a farmer’s back-yard, or the like, if
it be in the spring j for these places are the resort of
the small birds at that time. If it be used in summer,
the bush must be placed in the midst of a quickset
hedge, or in groves, bushes, or white thorn trees, near
fields of corn, hemp, flax, and the like j and in the
winter, the proper places are about stacks of corn, ho¬
vels, barns, and the like. When the lime-bush is thus
planted, the sportsman must stand as near it as he can
without being discovered ; and with the mouth, or
otherwise, make such sorts of notes as the birds do
when they attack or call to one another. There are
bird-caJls to be bought for this use j but the most ex-
a
pert method is to learn the notes of call of the several £ir(] j.
birds, and imitate them by a sort of whistling. When [|lmt
one bird is thus enticed to the bush, and hung fast, Birds,
the business of the sportsman is not to run up to take ^sts. 51
it, but to be patient j for it will hang itself more fast' "
by its struggling to get away ; and its fluttering will
bring mox-e to the bush, so that several may be taken
together. The time of the day for this sport is from
sunrise to ten o’clock, and from one to sunset. Ano¬
ther very good method of bringing the birds together,
is by a stale : a bat makes a very good stale ; but it
must be fastened, so as to be in sight at a distance. An
owl is a still better stale ; for this bird never goes a-
broad but it is followed by all the small birds in the
neighbourhood. They will gather together in great
numbers about it ; and having no convenient place to
sit on but the lime-bush, will be taken in great num¬
bers. If a living owl or bat is not to be had, the skin
stuffed will serve the purpose, and will last twenty
years. Some have used the image of an owl carved in
wood, and painted in the natural colours j and it has
been found to succeed very well.
Divination by Birds. See Augury.
Migration of Birds. 7 q r 7
NuUJication of Birds, j See Ornitholog y Mw.
Singing Birds are, the nightingale, blackbird, star¬
ling, thrush, linnet, lark, throstle, Canary-bird, bul-
finch, goldfinch, &c. See some very curious experi¬
ments and observations on the singing of birds, Phik
Trans, vol. Ixiii. part ii. N° 31. Their first sound is
called chirp, which is a single sound repeated at short
intervals ; the next call, which is a repetition of one
and the same note $ and the third sound is called re¬
cording, which a young bird continues to do for ten
or eleven months, till he is able to execute every part
of his song j and when he is perfect in his lesson, he
is said to sing his song round. Their notes are no more
innate than language in man j they all sing in the same-
key. The honourable author Daines Barrington has
there attempted to reduce their comparative merits to
a scale j and to explain how they first came to have
particular notes. See Soug of Birds, Ornithology
Index.
Methods of preserving Birds. See Ornithology
Index.
Birds, in Heraldry, according to their several kinds,
represent either the contemplative or active live. They
are the emblems of liberty, expedition, readiness, swift¬
ness, and fear. They are more honourable bearings
than fishes, because they participate more of air and
fire, the two noblest and highest elements, than of earth
and water. Birds must be borne in coat-armour, as is
best fitting the propriety of their natural actions of
going, sitting, standing, flying, &c. Birds that are
either whole-footed, or have their feet divided, and yet
have no talons, are said to be membered; but the cock,
and all birds of prey with sharp and hooked beaks and
talons for encounter or defence, are termed armed. Ill
the blazoning of birds, if their wings be not displayed,
they are said to be borne close ; as, he beareth an eagle%
&c. close.
BiRDS-Nests, in Cookery, the nest of a small Indian
swallow*, very delicately tasted, and frequently mixed#See Hi*,
among soups. On the sea-coasts of China, at certain
seasons of the year, there are seen vast numbers of these
birds j
B X K [ 627 ] B I R
|r(3g. birds } they leave the inland country at their breeding-
lests time, and come to build in the rocks, and fashion their
II nests out of a matter which they find on the shore,
^-washed thither by the waves. The nature of this sub-
' stance is scarcely yet ascertained. According to Kemp-
fer, it is mollusc* or sea-worms ; according to M. le
Poivre, fish-spawn •, according to Dalrymple, sea-weeds j
and, according to Linnaeus, it is the animal substance
frequently found on the beach, which fishermen call
blubbers or jellies. The nests are of a hemispheric fi¬
gure, and of the size of a goose’s egg, and in substance
much resemble the ichthyocolla or isinglass. The Chi¬
nese gather these nests, and sell them to all parts of the
world ; they dissolve in broths, &c. and make a kind of
jelly of a very delicious flavour.
These nests (Mr Marsdeu informs us) are found in
great abundance in the island of Sumatra, particularly
about Croe, near the south end of the island. Four
miles up the river of that name is a large cave, where
the birds build in vast numbers. The nests are distin¬
guished into white and black ; of which the first
are by far the more scarce and valuable, being found in
the proportion of one only to twenty-five. “ The
white sort (says Mr Marsden) sells in China at the rate
of IOOO to 1500 Spanish dollars the pecul ; the black
is usually disposed of at Batavia for about 20 dollars
the same weight, where it is chiefly converted into glue,
of which it makes a very superior kind. The differ¬
ence between the two has by some been supposed to be
owing to the mixture of the feathers of the birds with
the viscous substance of which the nests are formed;
and this they deduce from the experiment of steeping
the black nests for a short time in hot water, when
they are said to become in a great degree white. A-
mong the natives I have heard a few assert that they
are the work of a different species of bird. It was
suggested to me, that the white might probably be the
recent nests in which they were taken j and the black,
such as have been used for a number of years successive¬
ly. This opinion appearing plausible, I was particu¬
lar in my inquiries as to that point, and learned what
seemed much to corroborate it. When the natives
prepare to take the nests, they enter the caves with
torches, and forming ladders according to the usual
mode, of a single bamboo, notched, they ascend and
pull down the nests, which adhere in numbers toge¬
ther, from the side and top of the rock. They in¬
formed me, that the more frequently and regularly the
cave is stripped, the greater proportion of white nests
they are sure to find, and that on this experience they
often make a practice of beating down and destroying
the old nests in larger quantities than they trouble them¬
selves to carry away, in order that they may find white
nests the next season in their room. The birds, during-
the building time, are seen in large flocks on the beach,
collecting in their bills the foam which is thrown up
by the surf, of which there is little doubt but they con¬
struct their nests, after it has undergone perhaps a pre¬
paration, from a commixture with their saliva, or other
secretion with which nature has provided them for that
purpose.”
BIREMIS, in Roman antiquity, a vessel with two
rows of oars j concerning the disposition of which au¬
thors are not agreed.
BIRETUM, or Birretum, a sort of black bon¬
net, or covering of the head, in form of a pyramid,
much used in Italy and France, about 500 or 600 years
ago, as a badge of victory, honour, or sacerdotal prefer¬
ment.
BIRKENHEAD, or Berkenhead, Sir John, a
famous political author, was born about the year 1615.
Being recommended to Dr William Laud archbishop
of Canterbury, he became his secretary ; in which of¬
fice he showed such capacity and diligence, that the
archbishop, by his diploma, created him master of arts
in 1639 > anc^ *n t^ie year following, by letter commen¬
datory from the same prelate, he was chosen proba¬
tioner fellow of All-Soul’s College. This obliged him
to reside constantly at Oxford; and on King Charles I.’s
making that city his head-quarters during the civil
war, our author was made choice of to write a kind of
journal in defence of the royal cause, by which he
gained great reputation. By his majesty’s recommen¬
dation, he was chosen reader in moral philosophy;
which employment he enjoyed till 1648, when he was
expelled by the parliament visitors. He retired after¬
wards to London, where he wrote several poetical pie¬
ces; and having adhered steadily to his principles, he
acquired the title of the loyal poet, and sufl’ered several
imprisonments. He published, while he thus lived in
obscurity, some very satirical compositions, mostly le¬
velled against the republican grandees, and written
with great poignancy. Upon the restoration of King
Charles II. our author was rewarded for his loyalty.
He was created, April 16. 1661, on the king’s letters
sent for that purpose, doctor of the civil law by the
university of Oxford ; and in that quality, as an emi¬
nent civilian, was consulted by the convocation on the
question, Whether bishops ought to be present in capital
cases ? He was about the same time elected to serve in
parliament for Wilton in the county of Wilts. He was
knighted November 14. 1662; and upon Sir Richard
Fanshaw’s going in a public character to the court of
Madrid, he was appointed to succeed him as master of
requests. He lived afterwards in credit and esteem,
and received various favours from the court, which,
however, drew upon him some very severe attacks from
those who opposed the court. Mr Wood has treated
him with great severity ; but his memory has been trans¬
mitted with honour to posterity by others, particularly
by Dryden, Langbaine, and Winstanly. He died in
Westminster, December 4. 1679 ; and was interred in
St Martin’s in the Fields.
BIRKENFIELD, a thriving village of the Prus¬
sian states, in the grand duchy of the Lower Rhine.
It is seated near the river Nahe, in E. Long. 7. 9.
N. Lat. 49. 35.
BIRMINGHAM, a very large town of Warwick¬
shire in England, situated in W. Long. 1. 35. N.
Lat. 52. 30. It is no corporation, being only go¬
verned by two constables and two bailiffs ; and it is
therefore free for any person to come and settle there;
which has contributed greatly not only to the increase
of the buildings, but also of the trade, which is the
most flourishing of any in England for all sorts of iron
work, besides many other curious manufactures. The
town stands on the side of a hill, nearly in the form of
a half-moon. The lower part is filled with the work¬
shops and warehouses of the manufacturers, and con¬
sists chiefly of old buildings. The upper part of the
4 K 2 town
BiretUTH
Birming¬
ham.
B I R ,[ 628 ] B I R
town contains a number of new and regular streets,
and a handsome square elegantly built. It has several
handsome churches. A theatre was built here in 1792,
which cost 14,000!. There is a large and well con¬
ducted school on Lancaster’s principle, and another on
Dr Bell’s. There is a charity work-house, a general
hospital built in 1766, and a dispensary built in 1808.
Including the parishes of Aston and Edgebaston, Bir¬
mingham contained 85,753 inhabitants in i8ir.
BIRON, Armand be Gontault, Lord of, Mar¬
shal of I ranee, and a celebrated general in the 16th
century, signalized himself by his valour and conduct
in several sieges and battles. He was made grand-mas¬
ter of the artillery in 1569, and nobody dared to as¬
sault him at the massacre of St Bartholomew. He was
the first who declared for Henry IV. He brought a
part of Normandy under his subjection, and dissuaded
him from retiring to England or Rochelle. But he
was killed by a cannon-ball, at the siege of Epernay,
on the 26th of July 1592. He was a very universal
scholar : and used to carry a pocket-book, in which he
wrote down every thing that appeared remarkable j
which gave rise to a proverb very much used at court:
When a person happened to say any thing uncommon,
they told him, You have found that in Biron's pocket-
book.
BIROTA, or Birotum, in Roman antiquity, a
kind of vehicle, so denominated from its moving upon
two wheels. It carried about 200 pound weight, and
was drawn by three mules.
BIRRUS, in Roman antiquity, a cloak, made of
woollen cloth, worn by the soldiers. Also a robe an¬
ciently worn by the priests or bishops.
BIRTH, in Midwifery, signifies the same with de¬
livery. See Midwifery.
Birth is also used for a person’s descent; and is said
to be high or low according to the circumstances of his
ancestry.
There i^ scarcely any truth (Mr Knox observes in his
Essays) of which the world has been more frequently
reminded by the moralists, than the unreasonableness of
that veneration which is paid to birth. They have been
told, that virtue alone is true qobility ; but though they
have acknowledged the assertion to be founded in rea¬
son, they have continued, with uniform perseverance,
in the same error. The luminous glory of an illustrious
ancestor, seems to have diffused a brilliancy over a long
line of descendants, too opaque of themselves to emit
any original irradiations.
“ Gratitude (continues our elegant author), which
first raises a benefactor to a distinguished rank in civil
honours, is willing to continue its kindness to his imme¬
diate offspring. The distinction is rendered hereditary.
This predilection for an ancestor soon leads to the accu¬
mulation of honours and possessions in his successors ;
and the incense originally offered because it was deser¬
ved, is at last lavished at the shrine of opulence, inde¬
pendently of merit.
“ Subordination is, indeed, essential to society. The
order of nobles, as hereditary guardians of the laws, is
found an useful political establishment; and none seem
so well adapted to supply it, as they who have been
raised to eminence by their ancestors, and who possess
a territorial patrimony in the land which they are to
^rcite.ct. AH that is contended for is, that the recom¬
3
mendation of birth may not set aside or depreciate real
merit, the praise of learning, and the intrinsic value of
virtuous exertions.
“ It is a remarkable circumstance in the history of
mankind, that some of the best books have been writ¬
ten, and some of the greatest achievements performed,
by those whose origin was truly plebeian. The politest
and genteelest books, whether the sentiments or the
style be considered, have been produced by slaves, or
the descendants of slaves. Horace, Phaedrus, and Te¬
rence, wrote in a style which must have been the stand¬
ard of a court, to an intercourse with which they were
by no means entitled by their extraction. The found¬
ers of the most distinguished families emerged from
the middle and the lower classes, by the superior vigour
of their natural abilities, or by extraordinary efforts,
assisted by fortune : and unless the adventitious circum¬
stances of wealth and civil honours can effect a change
in the constituent principles of the mind and body,
there is certainly no real superiority to be derived in
a boasted pedigree of Tudors and Plantagenets. And
yet there have appeared flatterers, who have indirectly
suggested, that the minds of the nobility seem to be
cast in a finer mould, and to have an elegance inhe¬
rent in their original constitution. According to this
hypothesis, we must go on to suppose, that the mind
of a commoner exalted to the higher order of sena¬
tors, catches this elegance by the contagion of invisible
effluvia. On his creation he undergoes a kind of new
birth, and puts off the exuviae which Encumbered and
degraded him in the lower regions. Thus are all the
occult perfections of noble blood to be infused by the
mandate of a monarch. ‘ But no,’ said Maximilian
to a man who asked to be ennobled by him, ‘ though
I can give you riches and a title, I cannot make vou
noble.’
“ In truth, there is many a nobleman, according
to the genuine idea of nobility, even at the loom, at
the plough, and in the shop ; and many more in the
middle ranks of mixed society. This genuine idea
contains in it generosity, courage, spirit, and benevo¬
lence, the qualities of a warm and open heart, total¬
ly unconnected with the accidental advantages of
riches and honour : and many an English sailor has
possessed more of the real hero than a lord of the admi¬
ralty.
“ If indeed there is any substantial difference in the
quality of their blood, the advantage is probably on
the side of the inferior classes. Their indigence and
their manual employments require temperance and ex¬
ercise, the best purifiers of the animal juices. But the
indolence which wealth excites, and the pleasures
which fashionable life admits without restraint, have a
natural tendency to vitiate and enfeeble the body as
well as the mind : and among the many privileges in¬
herited by him who boasts nobility in his veins, he
commonly receives the seeds of the most painful and
the impurest diseases. He displays indeed a coronet on
his coat of arms, and he has a long pedigree to peruse
with secret satisfaction; but he has often a gout ora
scrofula, which make him wish to exchange every
drop derived from his Norman ancestors, for the pure
tide that warms a peasant’s bosom.
“Ihe spirit of freedom, moral, mental, and poli¬
tical, which prevails in Britain, precludes that unrea¬
sonable
B I R [ 629 ] BIS
sonable attachment to birth, which, in the countries of
■ > despotism, tends to elevate the noble to a rank superior
to humanity. In our neighbour’s land, the region of
external elegance united with real meanness, the im¬
plicit veneration paid to birth adds to the weight of
legal oppression. A Frenchman of the plebeian older
attends to a count or a marquis with all the silent
submission of idolatry : on the contrary, there is no
doubt but that an English gondolier would box with
the best lord in the land, if he were affronted by him,
without the least regard for his star and ribbon. It
would indeed be an additional pleasure to the natural
delight of conquest, to have bruised a puny lord. Even
the more refined and polished do not idolize illustrious
birth. In truth, wealth appears to be the object of
more universal veneration. Noble blood and noble
titles, without an estate to support them, meet with
great compassion indeed, but with little respect; nor
is the man who has raised himself to eminence, and
who behaves well in it, neglected and despised because
he derives no lustre from his forefathers. In a com¬
mercial country, where gain is the general object, they
who have been most successful in its pursuit will be re¬
vered by many, whatever was their origin. In France,
where honour is pursued from the monarch to the
cleanser of a jakes, the distinction of birth, even with
extreme poverty, is enviable. The brother of a mar¬
quis would rather starve on a beggarly pension, than
pollute himself with a trade by which he might acquire
the revenues of a German kingdom. In our land of
good sense this folly is losing ground ; and the younger
brothers of noble houses often think it no disgrace to
rival the heir in a princely fortune acquired by honom*-
able merchandise.
“ As the world becomes more enlightened, the ex¬
orbitant value which has been placed on things not
really valuable will decrease. Of all the effects of man’s
capricious admiration, there are few less rational than
the preference of illustrious descent to personal merit,
of diseased and degenerate nobility to health, to cou¬
rage, to learning, and to virtue. Of all the objects of
pursuit which are not in our own power, the want of
distinguished birth may most easily be dispensed with,
by those who possess a solid judgment of that which
makes and keeps ns happy. There may be some rea¬
son to repine at the want of wealth and fame ; but he
who has derived from his parent health, vigour, and all
the powers of perception, need not lament that he is
unnoticed at the herald’s office.
“ It has been observed, that virtue appears more
amiable when accompanied with beauty j it may be
added, that it is more useful when recommended to
the notice of mankind by the distinction of an honour¬
able ancestry. It is then greatly to he wished, that
the nobly born would endeavour to deserve the respect
which the world pays them with alacrity, by employing
their influence to benevolent purposes ; to those pur¬
poses which can at all times be accomplished, even
when the patriotic exertions of the field and cabinet are
precluded.”
Birth, or Berth, the station in which a ship rides at
anchor, either alone or in a fleet, or the distance between
the ship and any adjacent object, comprehending the
extent of the space in which she ranges at the length
of hgr cables; as, sh^ lies in a good birth, i, e. in a
convenient situation, or at a proper distance from the Birth
shore and other vessels j and where there is good an- (|
choring ground, and shelter from the violence of the -^scarai
wind and sea. —y—
Birth also signifies the room or apartment where
any particular number of the officers and ship’s com¬
pany usually mess and reside. In a ship of war there
is commonly one of these between every two guns.
BiRTH-lDay, the anniversary return of the day where¬
on a person was horn. The ancients placed a good
deal of religion in the celebration of birth-days, and
took omens from thence of the felicity of the coming
year. The manner of celebrating hirth-days, was by
a splendid dress : wearing a sort of rings peculiar to
that day : ofl'ering sacrifices ; the men to their genius,
of wine, frankincense j the women to Juno : giving
suppers, and treating their friends and clients j who
in return made them presents, wrote and sung their
panegyrics, and offered vows and good wishes for the
frequent happy returns of the same day. The birth¬
days of emperors were also celebrated with public sports,
feasts, vows, and medals struck on the occasion. But
the ancients, it is to be observed, had other sorts of
hirth-days besides the days on which they were born.
The day of their adoption w7as always reputed as a
birth-day, and celebrated accordingly. The emperor
Adrian, we are told, observed three birth days; viz.
the day of his nativity, of his adoption, and of his in¬
auguration. In those times it was held, that men were
not born only on those days when they first came into
the world, but on those days when they arrived at the
chief honours and commands in the commonwealth,
e. gr. the consulate. Hence that of Cicero in his ora¬
tion ad Qjiirites, after his return from exile : A paren-
tibus, id quod necesse erat, parvus sum procreatus ; a
vobis natus sum consularis.
Birthwort. See Aristolochia, Botany In¬
dex.
BIRVIESCA, a town of Old Castile in Spain, and
capital of a small territory called Bureva. W. Long.
2. 15. N. Eat. 42. 35.
BIRZA, a town of Poland, in the province of Sa-
mogitia. E. Long. 25. 5. N. Eat. 56. 35.
BISA, or Biza, a coin of Pegu, which is current
there for half a ducat. It is also a weight used in that
kingdom.
BISACCIA, a small handsome town of Italy, in
the Ulterior Principato, and in the kingdom of Na¬
ples, with a bishop’s see. E. Long. 15. 35. N. Eat.
4i- 3-
BISACUTA, in middle-age writers, an axe with
two edges, or which cuts either way ; or a missive
weapon pointed at both ends. Walsingham represents
the securis bisacuta as peculiar to the Scottish nation.
See Battle Axe.
BISB7EA, a feast celebrated by the Messapii after
the pruning of their vines, to obtain of the gods that
they might grow again the better. The word is form-t
ed from /3«rSn, used by some for a vine.
BISCARA, a town of Africa in the kingdom of Al¬
giers, seated in the eastern or Levantine government,
in E. Long. 5. 50. N. Lat. 33. 10. This city belong¬
ed to the province of Zeb in Numidia, which lies south
of the kingdom of Labez; but the Algerines, in their
annual inroads to carry off slaves, made themselves ma-
1 sters.
BIS ’ [ 630 ] BIS
Biscara, sters of Blscara, in order to facilitate their entrance in-
Biscay- to the southern provinces. It retains still some remains
of the ancient city that gave name to this territory ;
and hath a garrison to keep the inhabitants in awe, and
who usually bring lions, tigers, and other wild beasts
for sale to strangers. The city of Algiers is never with¬
out a great number of Biscarans, who are employed
in the hardest and lowest offices, as cleansing of streets,
emptying of vaults, sweeping chimneys, &c. *, and when
they have got about 10 or 12 crowns by this drudgery,
they return to their country, where they are respected
as worthy men on account of their money, the inhabi¬
tants of this province being almost entirely destitute of
coin, and reckoned the most miserable of all the Ara¬
bian tribes.
BISCAY, a province of Spain, bounded on the
north by the sea called the Bay of Biscay, on the south
by Old Castile, on the west by Asturias of Santilana,
and on the east by the territories of Alava and Gui-
puscoa. It is in length about seventy-four miles ; but
the breadth is much less, and very unequal. This
country in general is mountainous and barren ; but in
some places it produces corn, and everywhere a great
quantity of apples, oranges, and citrons. They make
cyder with the apples, which is their common drink.
Besides this, they have wine called chacolino, which is
pleasant, but will not keep long, and therefore is used
instead of small beer. Their valleys produce a little
flax, and their hills a great deal of timber for ships.
The sea affords them excellent fish of all sorts. The
wool that is exported here comes from Old Castile^ but
their greatest riches are produced by their mines of
iron ; which metal is extremely good, and is transported
to all parts. They have likewise artificers that work in
iron; and are, in particular, famous for working swords
and knives. Biscay is the country of the ancient Canta-
bri, so imperfectly subdued by Augustus, and so slight¬
ly annexed to the Roman empire. Their mountains
have in all ages afforded them temptations and opportu¬
nities of withdrawing themselves from every yoke that
has been attempted to be imposed upon them. Their
language is accounted aboriginal, and unmixed with
either Latin, French, or Spanish. It is so totally differ¬
ent from the Castilian, that wre seldom meet with any
of the peasants that understand one word of Spanish.
The Biscayners are stout, brave, and choleric to a pro¬
verb. The best sailors in Spain belong to the ports of
Biscay, and its mountains produce a very valuable race
of soldiers. Their privileges are very extensive, and
they watch over them with a jealous eye. They have
no bishops in the province, and style the king only Aoro?
of Biscay. The men are well-built and active, like all
mountaineers. The most singular thing in their dress
is the covering of their legs : they wrap a piece of
coarse gray or black woollen cloth round them, and
fasten it on with many turns of tape. The women are
beautiful, tall, light, and merry ; their garb is neat
and pastoral ; their hair falls in long plaits down their
backs ; and a veil or handkerchief, twisted round in a
coquetish manner, serves them for a very becoming
head-dress. On Sundays they generally wear white,
tied with rose-coloured knots. The population of Bis¬
cay in 1788 was only 310,758, of whom 4100 were
monks and nuns.
Biscay, a province of North America, in
the audience of Guadalajara. It has New Mexico on
the north, Culiacan on the west, Zacatecas on the
south, and Panuca with Florida on the east. It is
about 300 miles from east to w'est, and 360 from north
to south. In general it is well watered, fruitful, mo-
derately temperate, and abounds in all sorts of provi¬
sions, except the mountains of Topia, which are bar¬
ren. The original inhabitants are.not all brought un¬
der subjection, they having four large towns in the mo¬
rasses, that are of difficult access ; for this reason the
Spaniards have built three small fortified towns, which
are well inhabited, for the defence of their silver mines.
The latitude is from 2 5 to 28 degrees.
BISCHOFISHEIM, a town of Germany, in the
county of Hanau Munzenberg, and now included in the
territory of the free town of Frankfort. It is three
miles east of Hanau. E. Long. 9. 2, N. Lat. 50. 5.
BISCHOFF zell, a town of Switzerland, in the
canton of Thurgau. It is governed by a council, part¬
ly Catholic and partly Lutheran ; and both denomina¬
tions hold divine service in the parish church. It was
formerly subject to the bishop of Constance. It is
seated on the Thur, at the place where the Sitter falls
into this river, almost halfway between Constance and
St Gall. E. Long. 9. 23. N. Lat. 47. 33.
BISCHOP, or Biskop, John de, an excellent
artist, born at the Hague in 1646. He is spoken of
with great commendation as a painter, and his draw¬
ings from the great masters are held in the highest esti¬
mation by the curious. In these he had succeeded so
happily, as to preserve with the greatest exactness the
style of the painter whose pictures he copied. But as
an engraver he is most generally known ; and his works
are numerous. They are chiefly etchings, harmonized
with the graver; and though slight, yet free, spirited,
and pleasing. He gives a richness to the colour, and a
roundness to the figures, far beyond what is usualfy
■done with the point, so little assisted by the graver.
His figures in general are well drawn ; but in a man¬
nered, rather than a correct, style. The extremities
indeed are not always well marked, or his heads equally
expressive or beautiful. It is said of him, that he owed
his excellence to his own genius alone, having never
studied under any master by whose instruction he might
have been benefited. He worked chiefly at Amster¬
dam, where he died in 1686, aged 40 years.
Bischop, Cornelius, portrait and history painter,
was born at Antwerp in 1630, and was the disciple ol
Ferdinand Bol. His pencil, his tint of colouring, bis
style and manner, had a strong resemblance of his ma¬
ster ; and by many competent judges he is esteemed
not inferior to him in historical subjects as well as m
portrait, having been always assiduous to study after
nature. A painting by this master, consisting of a lew
figures by candle light, was so much admired by Louis
XIV. that he purchased it at a high price, and pla¬
ced it in the royal collection ; and the king of Den¬
mark admitted his works among those of the best ma¬
sters. However, notwithstanding the encomiums be¬
stowed on this master by the Flemish writers, an im¬
partial judge would perhaps think his compositions but
heavy and without expression, and his works in gene¬
ral not worthy of all that commendation which is la¬
vished upon them. He died in 1674.
Bischop, Abraham^ son of Cornelius Bischop, was
instructed
Biscay
. It J
Bkelioi),
BIS [ 631 ] BIS
instructed by bis father to design historical subjects and
portraits ; but preferred the painting of fowl, parti¬
cularly those of the domestic kind, to any other sub¬
jects which were recommended to him. He designed
every object after nature, and usually painted in a large
size, such as ornamental furniture for grand halls j and
every species of fowl was so exactly like nature in its
attitude, character, and plumage, that his works were
beheld with universal approbation.
B ISC HW ELLER, a fortress of France in the depart¬
ment of the Lower Rhine. E. Long. 7.0. N. Lat.48.40.
BISCHROMA, in Music) the same as our triple
quaver. See Chroma.
BLSCUTELLA, Buckler-Mustard, or Bastard
Mithridate-mustard. See Botany Index.
BISEGLIA, a populous town of Italy, in the king¬
dom of Naples and Terra de Bari, with a bishop’s see,
seated near the gulf of Venice, in E. Long. 16. 49.
N. Lat 41. 18.
BISERRULA. See Botany Index.
BISERTA, a town of the kingdom of Tunis in
Africa, seated on a gulf of the same name, in E. Long.
10. 40. N. Lat. 37. 20. The gulf is a very large one,
and the Sinus Hipponensis of the ancients. It is formed
by the Capes Blanco and Ziebeb; and has a beautiful
sandy inlet near four leagues wide, which once admitted
the largest vessels, but through the negligence of the
Turks can now admit only those of the smallest size,
and is in danger in a short time of being totally chok¬
ed up. Some remains of the great pier of Hippo are still
extant •, by which it appears to have run out into the
sea so as to break the north-east wind, and make this
one of the safest and most beautiful havens in these
parts. On the south, this gulf hath a communication
with a lake of the same name, so as to form a kind of
canal between it and the Mediterranean sea. Through
this canal a constant stream is observed alternately dis¬
charging itself from the sea to the lake, and from the
lake to the sea, in the same manner as the Atlantic ocean
is observed to do in the Mediterranean, and back again 5
so that what the lake loses by exhalations is soon re¬
cruited by the sea, which in hot seasons runs into it
with a very brisk current to keep up the equilibrium.
The millets of this lake are the best in Barbary ; great
quantities of their roes, dried and made into Botargo,
are sent from hence into the Levant, where they are
accounted a great dainty. The town was formerly
very considerable ; and, though not above a mile in
circuit, is said to have contained 6000 houses •, where¬
as both it and the villages under it now scarcely contain
that number of inhabitants. It has still, however,
some strong castles and batteries to defend it, especi¬
ally towards the sea. There are also two very capa¬
cious prisons for slaves, a large magazine or ware¬
house for merchandise, and two towers with some
other works to defend the entrance of the haven.
The city, though so near the sea, is well supplied with
fresh wTater from springs that surround it on every
side towards the land. It is likewise well furnished with
variety of fish from the adjacent lake. Most of the in¬
habitants of Biserta, as well as of the adjacent country
on both sides of the canal, are employed in the fishing
trade, which begins about the end of October, and
ends in the beginning of May ; for the rains then
sweetening tire waters, make the fish come into it in
vast quantities during that season j but afterwards they Biserta
either disappear, or grow lean, dry, and unfit to eat. t)
The people here are extremely poor ; yet very proud, ^ ®,R110P*
ill-natured, and faithless*, insomuch that Muley liasun
Bey, one of their sovereigns, used to say, that none of
his subjects deserved his resentment so much as they,
since neither fear nor love could keep them faithful.—
Biserta hath about eight villages under its government 5
a large plain called Matter or Mater; and the terri¬
tory of Choros, the Ciypea or Corobis of the ancients.
This is a tract of great extent, and would be very fer¬
tile were it not for the frequent incursions of the Arabs.
The people are very poor, live meanly, and go worse
clad. Their choicest dainty is their couscou, a kind
of cake, made of flour, eggs, and salt, which they
dry and keep all the year round. Their dress is no¬
thing else than a piece of coarse cloth wrapped round
their bodies, and another round their heads by way of
a turban ; and most of them go barefooted and bare¬
legged. The poorer sort have nothing but a few skins
laid on the floor to sleep upon ; but the rich have narrow
couches fixed against the wall, about five or six feet
high, to which they mount by a ladder. They are very
expert horsemen, as most in these countries are, and ride
without saddle or bridle j nor do they ever shoe their
horses. They are still more miserable from the neigh¬
bourhood of the Arabs, who living altogether by plun¬
der, robbery, and murder, oppress the poor inhabitants
with their frequent inroads and cruel exactions. The
Bisertines, both of the city and country, are the most su¬
perstitious people in Barbary, scarcely going anywhere
without hanging a quantity of amulets about their
own, or, if they ride, their horse’s neck also. Their
amulets are only scraps of parchment or paper, with
some strange characters written upon them, which they
sew up in a piece of leather, silk, &c. and imagine
when worn about them to be a preservative against all
accidents.
BISET, Charles Emanuel, a painter of consider¬
able eminence, was born at Mechlin in 1633 j and even
in his early productions showed a lively and ready in¬
vention. He was remarkable for introducing a multi¬
tude of figures into his designs, with an extraordinary
variety of drapery peculiar to every nation. His gene¬
ral subjects were conversations, balls, concerts, and as¬
semblies of gay and genteel persons, which were correct¬
ly designed and well coloured j though their actions and
attitudes were sometimes very indelicate. His pictures
had a strong effect at a distance j yet when they were
more nearly inspected, they showed a neatness of pencil,
a spirited touch, and a good expression.
BISHOP, a prelate or person consecrated for the
spirtual government and direction of a diocese. The
word comes from the Saxon bischop, and that from the
Greek an overseer or inspector : which was a
title the Athenians gave to those whom they sent into *
the provinces subject to them, to see whether every
thing was kept in order j and the Romans gave the
same title to those who were inspectors and visitors of
the bread and provision. It appears from a letter of
Cicero, that he himself had a bishopric j being episcopu9
Orce et Campaniee.
A bishop differs from an archbishop in the following
particulars : That an archbishop with bishops conse¬
crate a bishop, as a bishop with priests ordain a priest
that
BIS [632
Bishop, that the archbishop visits a province as the bishop a
diocese j that the archbishop convocates a provincial
synod as the bishop a diocesan one ; and that the arch¬
bishop has canonical authority over all the bishops of
his province, as the bishop over the priests in his dio¬
cese. It is a long time since bishops have been distin¬
guished from mere priests or presbyters ; but whether
that distinction be ot divine or human right, whether it
was settled in the apostolical age or introduced since, is
much controverted. But whether the apostles set¬
tled any thing ot this kind themselves, or whether they
left the spiritual economy in the hands of the presby¬
ters, or ot those together with the people, it appears
that in a little time the functions of the priesthood
were divided, and the priests distinguished into degrees*,
the political part of religion being, according to some,
assigned principally to bishops, and the evangelical to
the priests, &c. Or, according to others, the functions
of teaching and preaching were reserved to the bishop,
and that of ordination superadded *, which was their
principal distinction, and the mark of their sovereignty
in their diocese.
By the ancient discipline, bishops were to be married
once, and not to put away their wives on pretence of
religion ; but a second marriage was a disqualification
for this order. If they lived chaste, they were ranked
as confessors. Some bishops, in the middle age, on ac¬
count of their regalia or temporalities, were obliged to
a military service called host is, by which they were to
lead their vassals into the field, and attend the king in
his military expeditions. This Charlemagne excused,
and even forbade : but the prohibition was little re¬
garded j since we find the thing often practised after¬
wards.
rl he election of bishops was anciently placed in the
clergy, and the people of the parish, province, or dio-
cese; but afterwards,princes and magistrates, patriarchs
and popes, usurped the power. The election was to
be within three months after the vacancy of the see ;
and the person to be chosen out of the clergy of that
church. Formerly the bishop claimed a share in the
election of an archbishop : but this was set aside by the
popes.
In England, during the Saxon times, all ecclesiasti¬
cal dignities rvere conferred by the king in parliament.
At length, however, after several contests, especially
between Archbishop Anselm and Henry I. in conse¬
quence of a grant of King John, recognized in Magna
Charta, and established by stat. 25 Edw. III. stat. 6.
§ 3. bishops were elected by the chapters of monks or
canons, some shadow of which still remains in the pre¬
sent method of disposing of bishoprics $ but by stat.
25 Henry VIII. cap. 20. the right of nomination was
restored to the crown.
Ordinarily at least three bishops are required in the
ceremony of consecrating a bishop; but in some cases
a single one might suffice. The English succession of
Protestant bishops stands on this last ground. In Eng¬
land, the king being certified of the death of a bishop
by the dean and chapter, and his leave requested to
elect another, the conge cPelire is sent to them, with a
letter missive, nominating the person whom he would
have chosen. The election is to be within twelve
days after the receipt of it, otherwise the king by let¬
ters patent appoints whom he pleases ; and the chapter,
] BIS
in case of refusing the person named by the king, in¬
curs a prcemunire. After election, and its being ac¬
cepted of the bishop, the king grants a mandate
under the great seal for confirmation ; which the
bishop consigns to bis vicar-general ; consisting mostly
in a solemn citation of such as have any objections to
the bishop elect, a declaration of their contumacy in
not appearing, and an administration of the oaths of
allegiance and supremacy, of simony, and canonical
obedience. Sentence being read by the vicar-general,
the bishop is installed in the province of Canterbury by
the archdeacon ; the fact is recorded by a public no¬
tary ; and the bishop is invested with full powers to
exercise all spiritual jurisdictions, though he cannot sue
for his temporalities till after consecration. Then
follows the consecration by the archbishop or some
other bishop appointed by lawful commissions, and two
assistant bishops : the ceremony of which is much the
same as in the'Romish church, save that having put on
the episcopal robes, the archbishop and bishops lay
their hands on the new prelate’s head, and consecrate
him with a certain form of words. The process of
the translation of a bishop to another bishopric only
differs in this, that there is no consecration. The age
of a bishop is to be at least thirty years; and by the an¬
cient discipline, none were to be chosen but those who
had passed through all the inferior orders; but in some
cases of necessity this was dispensed with, and deacons,
nay laymen, w'ere raised per saltvm to the episcopal
dignity.
I he form of consecrating a bishop is different in dif¬
ferent churches. In the Greek church, the bishop
elect being by the assistant bishops presented for con¬
secration, and the instrument of election put in his
hand ; after several prayers (the first called diaconicuni)
demanding consecration, makes profession of his faith 5
after which he receives a benediction. He is then in¬
terrogated as to the belief of the Trinity ; to which
he answers by a long profession of faith, and receives a
second benediction. Lastly, he is asked what he thinks
of the incarnation ; to which he answers in a third pro¬
fession of faith ; which is followed by a third benedic¬
tion ; after which the consecrator gives him the pasto¬
ral staff : then he is led up to the altar ; where, after
certain prayers, and three crosses on his head, he re¬
ceives the pallium, if he be an archbishop or patriarch ;
he then receives the kiss of peace of his consecrator and
two assistants ; and sitting down, reads, prays, and gives
the communion to his consecrators and others.
In the Romish church, the bishop elect being pre¬
sented by the elder assistant to the consecrator, takes
the oath : he is then examined as to his faith : and af¬
ter several prayers, the New Testament is drawn over
his head, and he receives the chrism or unction on his
head. The pastoral staff, ring, and gospel, are then
given him ; and after communion, the mitre is put on
his head ; each ceremony being accompanied with pro¬
per prayers, &c. the consecration ends with Te Deum.
These last-mentioned ceremonies are laid aside in the
consecration of English bishops. Nevertheless, the book
of consecration set forth in the time of Edward VI.
and confirmed by act of parliament, in which some ot
them are enjoined, is declared to be the standard for
this purpose by the thirty-sixth article.
The function of a bishop in England may be con¬
sidered
BIS [ 633 ] BIS
sidered as twofold, viz. what belongs to his order,
and what belongs to his jurisdiction. To the episcopal
Bisbi>’s- order belong the ceremonies of dedication, confirma-
Staril' *, tion, and ordination ; to the episcopal jurisdiction, by
the statute law, belong the licensing of physicians,
chirurgeons, and schoolmasters, the uniting small pa¬
rishes (though this last privilege is now peculiar to the
bishop of Norwich), assisting the civil magistrate in the
execution of statutes relating to ecclesiastical matters,
and compelling the payment of tenths and subsidies
due from the clergy. By the common law, the bishop
is to certify the judges, touching legitimate and illegi¬
timate births and marriages; and by that and the ec¬
clesiastical law, he is to take care of the probate of wills
and granting administrations ; to collate to benefices,
grant institutions on the presentation of other patrons,
command induction, order the collecting and preser¬
ving the profits of vacant benefices for the use of the
successors, defend the liberties of the church, and visit
his diocese once in three years. To the bishop also
belong suspension, deprivation, deposition, degradation,
and excommunication.
All bishops of England are peers of the realm, ex¬
cept the bishop of Man j and, as such sit and vote in
the house of lords; they are barons in a threefold man¬
ner, viz. feudal, in regard to the temporalities annexed
to their bishoprics } by writ, as being summoned by
writ to parliament j and lastly, by patent and creation :
accordingly they have the precedence of all other ba¬
rons, and vote as barons and bishops; and claim all the
privileges enjoyed by the temporal lords, excepting
that they cannot be tried by their peers, because, in
cases of blood, they themselves cannot pass upon the
trial, for they are prohibited by the canons of the
church (as already observed) to be judges of life and
death. They have the title of Lords and Right Reve¬
rendfathers in God. Besides two archbishops, there
are 24 bishops in England: exclusive of the bishop of
Sodor and Man, who has no seat in the house of peers.
The bishops of London, Durham, and Winchester,
! take place from the other bishops, who are to rank
after them according to their seniority of consecration.
-—There is now also a bishop in our settlement of
Nova Scotia. In Scotland, before the Presbyterian
establishment, there were two archbishoprics and 12
bishoprics.
Bishop's Court, an ecclesiastical court, held in the
cathedral of each diocese, the judge whereof is the bi¬
shop’s chancellor, who judges by the civil and canon
law ; and if the diocese be large, he has his commis¬
saries in remote parts, who hold what they call con¬
sistory courts, for matters limited to them by their com¬
mission.
Bishop and his Clerks, some little islands and rocks
on the coast of Pembrokeshire, near St David’s inWales,
which are very dangerous to mariners.
Bishop"1 s-Aukland. See Aukland.
Bishop's Castle, a town of Shropshire in England,
seated near the river Clun. It is a corporation, sends
two members to parliament, and contained 1367 inha¬
bitants in i8it. W. Long. 2. 55. N. Lat. 52. 30.
Bisnop's-Stortford, a town of Hertfordshire in Eng¬
land, seated on the side of a hill, in E. Long. o. 25.
N. Lat. 51. 50. It has several good inns, but the
Vol. III. Part II. f
streets are not paved. It has a large church, one Pres- Bishop’s
byterian and one Quaker meeting. Here was formerly Stortford
a castle called Wcymore Castle, wherein a garrison was 11 .
kept. Population in 1811, 2630. ■ ^isl>uit’
BISHOPING, a term among horse-dealers, to de¬
note the sophistications used to make an old horse ap¬
pear young, a bad one good, &c.
BISHOPRIC, the district over which a bishop’s
jurisdiction extends, otherwise called a diocese.
In England there are 24 bishoprics besides that of
Sodor and Man ; in Ireland 18.
BISI, Bona VENTURA, a celebrated miniature pain¬
ter, was born at Bologna, and was a disciple of Lucio
Massari. But his sole delight was in miniature paint¬
ing, and in that way he arrived at great excellence.
Instead of working from his own invention, or original
design, he employed himself to imitate, in small size,
the pictures of Guido, Corregio, Titian, and other
great masters, and those he finished with astonishing
grace, neatness, and beauty. A great number of the
works of this master are in the duke’s gallery at Mo¬
dena, and are highly valued. He died in 1662, his age
unknown.
BISIGNANO, a town of Italy, in the kingdom of
Naples, and in the Hither Calabria. It hath a strong
fort, a bishop’s see, and the title of a principality. It
is seated on a mountain near the river Boccona, in
E. Long. 16. 40. N. Lat. 39. 37.
BISK, or Bisque, in cookery, a rich sort of broth
or soup, made of pigeons, chickens, force-meat, mut¬
ton-gravy, and other ingredients. The word is
French, formed, as some think, from biscocta; because
the bisque, consisting of a diversity of ingredients, needs
several repeated coctions to bring it to perfection.
There is also a demi-bisque, made at a low expence, in
which only half the ingredients are used; and a bisque of
fish, made of carps minced with their roes and lobsters.
BISKUIT, or Biscuit, a kind of bread prepared by
the confectioners, of fine flour, eggs, and sugar, and rose
or orange water ; or of flower, eggs, and sugar, with
aniseeds, and citron peel, baked again and again in the
oven, in tin or paper moulds. There are divers sorts of
biskuit; as seed-biskuit, fruit-biskuit, long-biskuit,
round-biskuit, Naples-biskuit, sponge-biskuit, &c.
Sea-BiSKUiT is a sort of bread much dried by passing
the oven twice, to make it keep for sea-service. For
long voyages they bake it four times, and prepare it six
months before the embarkation. It will keep good a
whole year.
To preserve sea-biskuit from insects, Mr Hales ad¬
vises to make the fumes of burning brimstone pass
through the casks full of bread. Biskuit may be like¬
wise preserved a long time, by keeping it in casks well
calked, and lined with tin.
The ancients had their biskuit prepared after the
like manner, and for the like use, as the moderns. The
Greeks called it q. d. bread put twice to
the fire. The Romans give it the name oipanis nau-
ticus, or capta. Pliny denominates it veins uut nauti-
cus panis iusus atque iterum cactus. By which it ap¬
pears, that after the first baking, they ground or
pounded it down again for a second. In some middle-
age writers, it is called paximas, paximus, and panis
paxirnatus. Among the Romans we also meet with
4 L a
B I S
Bukuit
a kind of land-biskuit for the camp service, called hue
!} cellalum, sometimes expeditionulis annona, which was
i lsnjtSar- baked much ; but to make it lighter for carriage, and
less liable to corrupt, the coction was continued till the
bread was reduced one-fourth of its former weight.
BISKOP. See Bischop.
BISMILLAH, a solemn form used by the Maho¬
metans at the beginning of all their books and other
writings, signifying, In the name oj the most merciful
God.
Bismillah is also used among the Arabs as a word
of invitation to eat. An Arab prince will frequently
sit down to eat in the street before his own door, and
call to all that pass, even beggars, in this word, who
do not fail to come and sit down to eat with him $ for
the Arabs are great levellers, and set every body upon
a footing with them.
BISMU FH, or Bin-glass, a metal of a reddish or
yellowish-white colour and a lamellated texture. See
Chemistry and Mineralogy Index.
BISNAGAR, formerly a very large and powerful
kingdom of Asia, comprehending the kingdoms of
Kanara, Messowr, 11 avankor, Madura, Marava, and
Tanjour. It was called Bisnagar from its capital city,
and took the name of Harsinga from one of its rajahs
or kings. We know nothing certain concerning this
kingdom before the year 1520, when Khrisna Rajah,
king of Bisnagar, made war with Adel Khan king of
^ isiapur, from whom he resolved to take the city of
Rachol, situated in the island of Salsette near Goa,
which he said had belonged to his ancestors. The
king of Bisnagar’s army consisted of 733,000 foot,
35,coo horse, 586 elephants with towers on their backs,
each of which had four men in it 5 besides these were
12,000 water-carriers, and the army was followed by
20,000 common women. The city, however, resisted
this formidable army for three months ; at the end of
which, Adel Khan came to its relief with an army of
120,000 foot, 18,000 horse, 150 elephants, and many
heavy cannon. In the engagement the king of Bis¬
nagar proved victorious, and almost entirely destroyed
the army of Adel Khan, taking from him 4000 horses,
100 elephants, 400 cannon, &c. Soon after he took
the city by assault j but consented to restore the booty
taken in the former battle, provided Adel Khan con¬
sented to come and kiss his foot as the sovereign lord
of Kanara. This base condition was accepted, but
accidentally prevented from being put in execution.
Broni this time we hear of nothing remarkable till the
year 1558, when a Portuguese of the city of Meliapur
or St Ihomas, on the coast of Coromandel, persuaded
Ramah Rajah, then king of Bisnagar, to march airainst
that place, telling him the plunder would be worth
2,000,000, and that the destruction of Mehapur would
be of great service to the images in the pagods which
were thrown down by the Christians. The king set out
accordingly with an army of 500,000 men ; but the in¬
habitants, instead of preparing for their defence, sent
him a present of 4000 ducats. This somewhat ap¬
peased him : however, he would not enter the city, but
ordered the inhabitants of both sexes, with all their
valuable effects, to be brought into his presence j which
being done, he found that the value of their w’hole sub¬
stance did not exceed 80,000 ducats. On this he or-
C 634 ]
B I S
dered the informer to be thrown to the elephants, who
tore him in pieces j after which he dismissed the citi¬
zens, and restored all their goods so punctually, that
only a silver spoon happening to be missing, it w-as
sought for, and returned to the owner. In 1565, the
happy state of this kingdom excited the envy of the
kings of Dekan : who, having raised an army of 500,000
foot and 50)000 horse, defeated and killed the king of
Bisnagar, though at the head of an army almost twice as
numerous, and took the royal city itself. They are said
to have spent five months in plundering it, although
the inhabitants had before carried off 1550 elephants
loaded with money and jewels to the amount of upwards
of 100,000,000 of gold 5 besides the royal chair for
state days, whose price could not be estimated. The
victors, however, found a diamond of the size of an
ordinary egg, besides another of a size somewhat in¬
ferior, and several other jewels of immense value. Af¬
terwards, however, they were forced to abandon the
kingdom, as being too large for them to keep in their
hands. From this time the kingdom of Bisnagar re¬
mained pretty much unmolested till about the year 1627,
when it was subdued by Aurengzebe, second son to
Shah Jehan, and hath ever since remained subject to
the Great Mogul. In some places of this kingdom, it
is said, the roads have great forests of bamboos on each
side, which are so thick that it is impossible for a man
to pass. These forests are full of monkeys j and what
is singular, those on the one side seem to be enemies to
those on the other 5 for if a basket of rice is set down
on the road with a parcel of small sticks about it, the
monkeys on each side will come out and fall a-fighting
with the sticks till one of the parties retreats. This,
it is said, is often done by travellers for diversion.
They catch the wild elephants here in pitfalls, and then
tame them by means of others already tamed. The
town of Bisnagar is now in ruins. It is situated in
E. Long. 78. o. N. Lat, 15. 14.
BI SNOW, or Bischnou, a sect of the Banians in
the East Indies j they call their god Ram-ram, and
give him a wife : They adorn his image with golden
chains, necklaces of pearls, and all sorts of precious
stones. T. hey sing hymns in honour of their god, mix¬
ing their devotion with dances and the sound of drums,
flagelets, brazen basons, and other instruments. This
sect lives wholly upon herbs and pulse, butter and milk.
In this sect, the wives do not burn- themselves after
their husband’s death, as is practised by those of the
samarath sect j but content themselves with a perpetual
widowhood.
BISOMUM, or Disomum, in Roman antiquity,
a tomb for two dead bodies, or the ashes of tivo. The
ancients frequently buried two, three, or four bodies
in the same sepulchre, disposed aside of each other j
for it was held an impiety to lay one a-top of another.
Hence the sepulchres of the primitive Christians had
the words bisomi, trisomi, quadrisomi, &c. inscribed
on them, to indicate the number of bodies deposited in
them.
BISON, in Zoology, the trivial name of a species of
bos. See Bos, Mammalia Index.
BISQUfT, or Biskuit. See Biskuit.
BISSAGOS, a cluster of islands on the coast of
Negroiand in Africa, situated between the mouth of
the
Bisnagir
Bis r 635 ] BIS
j5i^B05, 'i!e rivers Gait)liia and Rio Grande. Their names are nor has commerce introduced the smallest change in Bissau
Cassuabac, La (xalhnci, CciKegut, Calacha, and their manners, but their ideas of religion are exceed- ||
■—Oranguana, with some other small islands: but the on- ingly confused. Their chief idol is a little image call-^‘ssenPtfUr-
ly one which merits a particular description is that of ed China, ot which the worshippers give very absurd m"'-1
Bulam. Lach of tnese islands is governed by a king accounts 5 but, besides this, every man invents a god for
of its own ; and as all those petty monarchs are quite himself: trees are held sacred ; and if not adored as
independent, they frequently make war with each 0- gods, are worshipped as the residence of some divinity.
(her, yet they always unite against the inhabitants of The government is despotic, the will of the emperor
Bifara, who are their common enemies. They have being'a law to his people. Of this we have an in¬
canoes that carry from 25 to 40 men with their pro- stance in Bissao, not to be matched in any other coun-
visions and arms, which are sabres and hows and ar- try whatever. This is no other than a present which
rows. The inhabitants are negroes; who are tall, strong, one subject may make of the house and estate of his
and healthy, though tuey live only on fish, nuts, and neighbour to the emperor; and as it is most commonly
palm oh ; cnoosing rather to sell the rice, millet, and his majesty’s pleasure to accept of such presents, the
other grain produced in their country, to the Europeans, proprietor dares not resist, but immediately sets about
tiian not to gratify their passion for trinkets and orna- building another house, though even this he cannot do
nients. In general they are idolaters ; cruel and savage without the prince’s leave ; and if this should not be
in their disposition, and when they happen to quarrel, readily granted, he must live with his family in the
and are disappointed of their revenge, they frequently open air till permission to build a new house can be ob-
drown or stab themselves. An attempt was made in tained.
1792 to plant a colony on Bulama, one ofthese islands, BISSAT, Peter, professor of canon law in the
iiUD,rcc"I1rxly fai!eId- . university of Bononia, in Italy, was descended from the
lilobAL), an island on the coast of Africa, a few earls of Fife in Scotland, and born in that county in
leagues to toe south-east of the river Gambia, and se- the reign of James V. He was educated at St An-
parated from the continent only by the channel of the drews: from thence he removed to Paris; and, having
river Geves. In this island the French have a factory, spent some time in that university, proceeded to Bono-
and there is also a fort belonging to the Portuguese, nia, where he commenced doctor of laws, and was
at both of which a great trade is carried on. The afterwards appointed professor of canon law. He con-
island is about 35 or 40 miles in circumference, ha- tinned in that honourable employment several years
ving an agreeable prospect to the sea, from which it with great reputation, an'd died in the year 1568. He
rises by a gentle ascent on every side to an eminence is said to have been not only a learned civilian, but an
in the centre of the island. There are however a great excellent poet, orator, and philosopher. PatriciiBis-
many hills inferior in height to that in the middle, and satti opera omnia, viz. poemata, orationes, lectiones
separated by beautiful and fertile valleys divided by feviales, 4c. Lib. de irregularitate, Ac. were published
little rivulets, which at the same time augment the rich- at Venice in 1563, 4to.
ness and elegance of the scene. So rich is the soil of BISSENPOUR, a small district of the kingdom of
B.ssao, that wheat and maize spring up to the size of Bengal in the East Indies, which has all along pre-
Indian corn, or rather resemble a field covered over served its independence. It has been governed time
with reeds or bamboos. The cattle also are of an ex- immemorial by a Bramin family of the tribe of Raiah-
traordinary size, and seem to keep pace with the ex- put. Here the purity and equity of the ancient po-
travagant growth of the corn. Milk and wine are in litical system of the Indians are found unadulterated,
t e gieatest abundance; hut the island affords neither This singular government, the finest and most striking
hogs nor horses. Hie former are forbid by the natives monument in the world, has till now been beheld with
to he imported ; and something in the soil or climate too much indifference. We have no remains of ancient
renders it unfit for the increase of the latter, which nations but brass and marble, which speak only to
never thrive here. The dress of the men of all ranks imagination and conjecture, those uncertain interpre-
in Bissao is only a skin fixed to the girdle before and ters of manners and customs that no longer exist. Were
behind. Ihe dress of the married women consists of a philosopher transported to Bissenpour, he would im-
a cotton petticoat; hut virgins go entirely naked, mediately be a witness of the life led by the first inha-
wear,ng only bracelets of different kinds on their arms bitants of India many thousand years ago: he would
and legs. It they are of high quality, their bodies are converse with them; he would trace the progress of
marked or painted with a variety of hideous forms of this nation, celebrated as it were from its very infan-
sna.es ^ S111.68’ w^'c'h, as their colour is jet- cy ; he would see the rise of a government which, be-
hlack, gives their skins somewhat the appearance of ing founded in happy prejudices, in a simplicity and
flowered satin. Even the princess royal herself, the purity of manners, in the mild temper of the people,
eldest daughter ot the emperor, is only distinguished and the integrity of the chieftains, has survived those
Irom other women by the elegance of those paintings innumerable systems of legislation, which have made
, an tie richness of her bracelets. One very extraor- only a traasitory appearance on the stage of the world
inary ornament used m this country is a large iron with the generations they were designed to torment,
ring with a flat round surface on the outside instead More solid and durable than those political structures,
o a stone, upon which the ring changes with a bit of which, raised by imposture and enthusiasm, are the
iron in such a manner as to converse with the greatest scourges of human kind, and are doomed to perish with
aci ity y means of the different sounds produced ; the foolish opinions that gave them birth, the govern-
but this kind of language is used only among the po- ment of Bissenpour, the offspring of a just attention to.
j i e and the great. All the Bissaons are idolaters, order and the laws of nature, has been established and
4^2 maintained
BIS [ 636 ] BIT
Bissenpour malntaintd upon unchangeable principles, and has un¬
it dergofie no more alteration than those principles them-
, BImoju, se]ves r||ie singular situation of this country has pre¬
served to the inhabitants their primitive happiness and
the gentleness of their character, by securing them
from the danger of being conquered, or of imbruing
their hands in the blood of their fellow-creatures. Na¬
ture has surrounded them'with water j and they need
only open the sluices of their river to overflow the
whole country. The armies sent to subdue them have
so frequently been drowned, that the plan of enslaving
them has been laid aside j and the projectors of it have
thought proper to content themselves with an appear¬
ance of submission.
Liberty and property are sacred in Bissenpour. Rob¬
bery, either public or private, is never heard of. As
soon as any stranger enters the territory, he comes un¬
der the protection of the laws, which provide for his
security. Pie is furnished with guides at free cost, who
conduct him from place to place, and are answerable
for his person and effects. When he changes his con¬
ductors, the new ones deliver to those they relieve an
attestation of their conduct, which is registered and af¬
terwards sent to the rajah. All the time he remains in
the country, he is maintained and conveyed with his
merchandise at the expence of the state, unless he de¬
sires leave to stay longer than three days in the same
place. In that case, he is obliged to defray his own
expences ; unless he is detained by any disorder, or o-
ther unavoidable accident. This beneficence to stran¬
gers is the consequence of the warmth with which the
citizens enter into each others interests. They are so
far from being guilty of an injury to each other, that
whoever finds a purse, or other thing of value, hangs
it upon the first tree he meets with, and informs the
nearest guard, who give notice of it to the public by
beat of drum. These maxims of probity are so gene¬
rally received, that they direct even the operations of
government. Out of about 350,000!. on an average it
annually receives, without injury to agriculture or trade,
what is not wanted to supply the unavoidable expences
of the state is laid out in improvements. The rajah is
enabled to engage in these humane employments, as he
pays the Moguls only what tribute and at what times
he thinks proper.
BISSEXTILE, in Chronology, a year consisting of
366 days, being the same with our leap-year. See
Chronology.
BISTI, in commerce, a small coin of Persia : Some
say that it is among the current silver coins of Persia,
and worth only a little above three farthings of our
money 5 others speak of it again as a money of ac¬
count.
B1ST0NIS, in Ancient Geograp/zy, a lake of Thrace
near Abdera, on which dwelt the Bistones: hence
Histonius Tyrannus is by Lucan used to denote Dio-
medes king of Thrace, who fed his horses with hu¬
man flesh j and Ristonius turbo, a wind blowing from
Thrace.
BISTORT, or Knotgrass. See Polygonum,
Botany Index.
BISTOURY, in Surgery, an instrument for making
incisions, of which there are different kinds ’, some be¬
ing of the form of a lancet, others straight and fixed
in the handle like a knife, and others crooked with the »•
sharp edge on the inside.
BISTRE, among painters, signifies the burnt oil ex- Bit
tracted from the soot of wood. v—
It is of a brown transparent colour, having much the
same effect in water-painting, where alone it is used, as
brown pink in oil. Though this colour is extremely
serviceable in water-colours, and much valued by those
who know and can procure it ; yet it is not in general
use here, perhaps on account of its not being easily pro¬
cured of a perfect kind ; hardly any of it being good,
hut what is imported from France. Perhaps the prin¬
cipal reason for this is, that dry beechwood affords the
best soot for making it: and it is not easy to procure
such here without mixture of the soot of green wood, or
other combustibles that deprave it for this purpose : or
it is possible that they who have pretended to prepare it,
have been ignorant of the proper means ; there not be¬
ing any receipt or directions in books that treat of these
matters, from whence they could learn the proper pro¬
cess.
Bistre may, however, be prepared with great casein
the following manner.—Take any quantity of soot, of
dry wood, but let it be of beech wherever that can be
procured. Put it into water in the proportion of two
pounds to a gallon ; and boil them half an hour : then
after the fluid has stood some little time to settle, but
while yet hot, pour off the clearer part from the earthy
sediment at the bottom $ and if on standing longer it
forms another earthy sediment, repeat the same method,
but this should be done only while the fluid remains
hot: then evaporate the fluid to dryness : and what re¬
mains will be good bistre, if the soot was of a proper
kind.—The goodness of bistre may be perceived bj i;s
warm deep brown colour, and transparency when moist¬
ened with water.
BISTRICZ, a handsome strong town of Transilva-
nia, seated on a river of the same name, in E. Long.
25. 3. N. Lat. 47. 33.
BIT, or Bitt, an essential part of a bridle. Its
kinds are various. 1. The musrol, snaffle, or water¬
ing-bit. 2. The canon-mouth, jointed in the middle.
3. The canon with a fast mouth, all of a piece, only
kneed in the middle, to form a liberty or space for the
tongue ; fit for horses too sensible or ticklish, and li¬
able to be continually bearing on the hand. 4. The
canon-mouth, with the liberty in form of a pigeon’s
neck ; proper where a horse has too large a tongue.
5. The canon with a port-mouth, and an upset or
mounting liberty j where a horse has a good mouth,
but large tongue. 6. The scatch-mouth, with an up¬
set ; ruder but more secure than a canon-mouth.
7. The canon-mouth with a liberty $ proper for a
horse with a large tongue and round bars. 8. The
masticadour, or slavering bit, &c. The several parts
of a snaffle, or curb-bit, are the mouth-piecet the cheeks
and eyes, guard of the cheek, head of the cheeks, the
port, the wTelts, the campanel or curb and hook, the
bosses, the bolsters and rabbets, the water-chains, the
side-bolts and rings, kirbles of the bit or curb, trench,
top-rol, flap and jieve. The importation of bits for
bridles is now prohibited.
Bits, or Bitts, in Ship-Building, the name of two
great timbers, usually placed abaft the manger, in the
ship’s
BIT [ 637 ] B L A
1 ship’s loof, through which the cross-piece goes: The
| use of it is to belay the cable thereto while the ship is
Bitrex. at anchor.
Bit is also used in commerce for a piece of coin cur¬
rent in Jamaica, and valued at 7id.
BITBURGH, a town of the Netherlands, in the
duchy of Luxemburg. E. Long. 6. 43. N. Lat. 50. o.
BITCH, the female of the dog kind. See Cants.
BITCHE, a town of Lorrain, now in the depart¬
ment of the Moselle, seated at the foot of the moun¬
tains near the river Swolbe. E. Long. 7. 44. N. Lat.
49- 5-
BITETO, a town of Italy, in the kingdom of Na¬
ples, and in the Terra di Bari. E. Long. 16. 56.
N. Lat. 41. 8.
BITHYNIA, an ancient kingdom of Asia, for¬
merly known by the names of Mysia, Mygdonia, Ba-
bryicia, Mariandym'a, and Bit/iynia. It was bounded
on the west by the Bosphorus Thracius and part of the
Propontis, on the south by the river Rhyndacus and
Mount Olympus, on the north by the Euxine sea, and
on the east by the river Parthenius. The chief cities
were Myrlea, Nicomedia, Chalcedon, Heraclea, and
Prusa.—As to its history, we find nothing of moment
recorded ; except the infamous conduct of Prusias, one
of its kings, in delivering up to the Romans Hannibal,
the great Carthaginian general, who fled to him for pro¬
tection. His great grandson Nicomedes IV. bequeathed
the kingdom to the Romans. From them it was taken
by the Turks, to whom it still remains subject, but has
no modern name.
BITONTO, an episcopal town in Italy, in the
kingdom of Naples and Terra di Bari. It is seated in
a plain, eight miles smith of th$ gulf of Venice, in
E. Long. 16. 52. N. Lat. 41.13.
BITTACLE. See Binacle.
. BITTER, an epithet given to all bodies of an oppo¬
site taste to sweetness. For the medical virtues of bit¬
ters, see Materia Medica.
Bitter, a sea term, signifying any turn of the cable
about the bits, so as that the cable may be let out by
little and little. And when the ship is stopped by a
cable, she is said to be brought up by a bitter. Also
that end of the cable which is wound about the bits is
called the bitter end of the cable.
Bitter-Apple. See Coeocynthis, Botany In¬
dex.
BiTTER-Salt. See EpsoM-Salt.
BiTTER-Sweet. See Solanum, Botany Index.
BITTERN. See Ardea, Ornithology Index.
Bittern in the salt works, the brine remaining after
the salt is concreted : this they ladle off, that the salt
may be taken out of the pan, and afterwards put in
again ; when, being farther boiled, it yields more salt.
See Salt.
BITUMENS, in Natural History, are oily matters,
of a strong smell, and of different consistencies, which
are found in many places within the earth. See Che¬
mistry and Mineralogy.
BITUMEN Judaicum. See Asphaltum, Mine¬
ralogy Index.
BITUREX, Bituriges, or Bituriece, afterwards
corrupted to Bourges ; the name of Avaricum, from the
custom of the lower age of calling towns from the names
of the people. See Avaricum.
BITURIGES (Caesar) j Bituriges Cubi (Strabo, Bituriges
Pliny, Ptolemy) ; a people in that part of Gallia Cel- fl
tica afterwards assigned to Aquitania. Now called ,
Bern/. *
Bituriges Vibisci (Ptolemy), a people of Aquitain.
BIVALVES, a term sometimes used for such shells
as consist of two pieces.—It is also an appellation given
by botanists to such pods or capsules as consist of two
valves enclosing the seeds.
BIVENTER, in Anatomy, called also digastric, or
tim-bcllied, a muscle of the lower jaw. See Anatomy,
Table of the Muscles.
BIUMBRES, in Geography, an appellation given to
the inhabitants of the torrid zone, by reason, at two dif¬
ferent seasons of the year, their shadows are projected
two different ways. The biumbres are the same with
those otherwise denominated amphiscii.
BIXA, the Roucou or Arnotto Tree. See Botany
Index.
BIZARRE, denoting capricious, &c. a term used
among florists for a particular kind of carnation, which
has its flowers striped or variegated with three or four
colours.
BIZARRO, in the Italian music, denotes a fanci¬
ful kind of composition, sometimes fast, slow, soft,
strong, &c. according to the fancy of the compo¬
ser.
BIZOCHI, orBisoCHl, in Church History, certain
heretical monks, said to have assumed the religious ha¬
bit contrary to the canons, rejected the sacraments, and
maintained other errors.
BLACK, Hr Joseph, distinguished for bis disco¬
veries in chemistry, wTas born in France, on the banks
of the Garonne in the year 1728. His father was a
native of Belfast, but descended from a Scotch family
who had been some time settled there. Mr Black,
the father, was engaged in the wine trade; and for the
purpose of carrying it on, he resided chiefly at Bour-
deaux.
He is represented as a man of extensive information,
of candid and liberal sentiments, and of amiable man¬
ners ; but particularly distinguished by the strength of
his attachments and the warmth of his heart. These
amiable aod estimable qualities in the character of Mr
Black, attracted the attention, and procured the friend¬
ship and intimacy of the discerning and benevolent Mon¬
tesquieu, who was one of the presidents of the court of
justice in the province while Mr Black resided at Bour-
deaux. Letters and fragments of correspondence be- ,
tween the president and Mr Black are still preserved in
the family, as precious relics and memorials of the in¬
tercourse, honourable to both, which subsisted between
that great man and their ancestor.
Some time before Mr Black retired from business,
he sent his son Joseph, then in his twelfth year, to
Belfast, on account of his education. And having
completed the usual course of instruction in a grammar
school, he was sent to the university of Glasgow in the
year 1746. During the time which he studied at that
seminary, his attention seems to have been chiefly di¬
rected to physical science ; and he became a favourite
pupil of Dr Dick, then professor of natural philosophy.
When Dr Black had finished the ordinary course of ge¬
neral study at the university, he made choice of the
profession of medicine 5 and he directed his views to
those
B L A [ 638 ] B L A
k. those pursuits and studies which were necessary to qua-
lify him for that profession.
It was about this time that Dr Cullen had been ap¬
pointed to the lectureship of chemistry in the university
of Glasgow. Hitherto this science had been only
treated as a curious and in some respect a useful art.
This great man, conscious of his own strength, and
taking a wide and comprehensive view, saw the unoc¬
cupied field of philosophical chemistry open before him.
He was satisfied that it was susceptible of great im¬
provement by means of liberal inquiry and rational in¬
vestigation. He was therefore determined to enter the
unbeaten path, and to lead his followers to those unex¬
plored regions which are included in the wide ranges
«f this comprehensive and attractive science. It was
at this time that Dr Black became the pupil of Dr
Cullen ; and it was perhaps to this fortunate coinci¬
dence that Dr Black was indebted for the foundation
of his future reputation as a philosopher and a chemist.
The liberal and extensive views of Cullen happily ac¬
corded with the enlarged habits of thought which the
young philosopher hacl previously acquired. Dr Cul¬
len took a deep interest in the progress of his students.
He delighted in encouraging and aiding their efforts ;
and therefore perceiving the bias of Black’s pursuits,
soon attached him to himself. And by the intercourse
and intimacy which followed he was led into the same
train of thought, and conducted into the same course
of studies. He was received into a closer connexion,
and became a valuable assistant in all Dr Cullen’s che¬
mical operations. The experiments of Black were fre¬
quently adduced to prove facts which were stated in
the lecture, and they were considered as good autho¬
rity. Thus commenced a mutual confidence and
friendship which was highly honourable to both, and
was never afterwards mentioned by Dr Black but with
gratitude and respect.
In the year 1751 Dr Black went to Edinburgh to
complete the course of his medical studies. There he
resided in the house of his cousin-german, Mr Russel,
professor of natural philosophy in that university, a
gentleman of enlarged views and liberal sentiments,
whose conversation and studies must have been both
agreeable and profitable to his young friend.
At this time the mode of action of lithontriptic me¬
dicines, but particularly lime-water, in alleviating the
pains of stone and gravel, divided the opinions of pro¬
fessors and practitioners. This subject became extreme-
■ ly interesting both to the physician and chemist. And
as it is usual for the students to enter warmly into those
discussions which give rise to much difference of opi¬
nion among the teachers, this subject, quite suited to
his taste, particularly attracted and interested the at¬
tention of Mr Black, who was then one of Dr Cullen’s
most zealous and intelligent pupils. It appears from
some of his memorandums, that he at first held the opi¬
nion that the causticity of alkalies is owing to the ig¬
neous matter which they derive from quicklime. But
having prosecuted his experiments on magnesia, this
grand secret of nature was laid open to his view. This
led him to conclude, that the acrimony of these sub¬
stances was not owing to their combination with igne¬
ous particles ; that it was their peculiar property ; and
that they lost this property and became mild, by com¬
bining with a certain portion of air, to which he gave
the name offixed air ; because it was fixed or became
solid in the substances in the composition of which it
entered.
This grand discovery, which forms one of the most
important eras of chemical science, was the subject of
his inaugural dissertation, published at the time that he
was admitted to his medical degree in the university of
Edinburgh. He had not availed himself of the time
he had studied at Glasgow, but took the whole course
prescribed by the rules of the university. This delay,
it has been supposed, may have been owing to the in¬
vestigation of the subject in which he had engaged not
having been completed, which determined him to pro¬
ceed with caution, till he had established his doctrine
by a train of decisive experiments.
About the time that Dr Black obtained his medical
degree, Dr Cullen was removed to Edinburgh, which
made a vacancy in the chemical chair at Glasgow.
While he remained at that university, Dr Black had
been a diligent and attentive student ^ and the disco¬
very published in his inaugural essay had added much
to his reputation. He was therefore looked up to as
a person amply qualified to fill the vacant chair j and
accordingly, in the year 1756, he was appointed pro¬
fessor of anatomy, and lecturer on chemistry in the
university of Glasgow. And it was perhaps fortunate
for himself, fortunate for the public and for science,
that a situation so favourable presented itself, a situation
which allowed him full time to dedicate his talents
chiefly to the cultivation of chemistry, which had now
become his favourite science.
Along with the lectureship on chemistry, Dr Black’s
first appointment in the university of Glasgow was to
the professorship of anatomy. The latter branch of
medical study was either not so suitable to his taste, or
he did not consider himself so well qualified to be use¬
ful in it; for soon after, arrangements were made with
the professor of medicine, by which the professors ex¬
changed departments, when Dr Black undertook that
of the institutes and practice of medicine.
At this time, his lectures on medicine formed his
chief task. And the perspicuity and simplicity, the
caution and moderation which he discovered in the doc¬
trines which he delivered, gave great satisfaction. The
time and attention which were occupied in these lec¬
tures, and in the medical practice in some measure ne¬
cessarily connected with his situation, are supposed by
some to have been the principal cause of Dr Black’s ha¬
ving suddenly stopped short in that brilliant career on
which he at first so successfully entered. It is, however,
more probable, that the calm and unambitious temper
which seems to have been a striking feature of his charac¬
ter, and which a less friendly hand than his learned bio¬
grapher would have set down as nearly allied to indo¬
lence, checked the spirit of ardour and perseverance
which was necessary to encourage and carry him for¬
ward in the path of discovery and research. Whatever
may have been the cause, it is to be regretted, that Dr
Black, so conspicuous for his patient, judicious, and
elegant mode of investigation, and so distinguished for
the simplicity, perspicuity, and precision of his reason¬
ings and deductions, should have contributed so little
in rearing the noble superstructure of chemical science,
the foundation of which he had been the means of esta¬
blishing on a firm and sold basis.
The
B L A [ 639 ] B L A
The theory of the nature of quicklime, and the
cause of its causticity, was soon known to the German
chemists, and from them it met with strong opposition.
Various mysterious doctrines at this time prevailed in
the German schools concerning the peculiar nature of
lire. As their notions of the causticity of alkaline sub¬
stances involved some of these doctrines, a great many
objections were started to a theory which threatened to
overthrow long established and favourite opinions. The
most formidable opponent to the new theory was Pro¬
fessor Meyer of Osnaburgh. All the phenomena of
the causticity and mildness of lime and alkalies, were,
according to his explanation, to be accounted for, by
the action of a substance of a peculiar nature, to which
he gave the name of acidum pingue. This substance,
which was supposed to be formed in the lime during
calcination, consisted of an igneous matter in a certain
state of combination with other substances. It is a
matter of some surprise that Dr Black should have
experienced any uneasiness on account of the opposition
made to his discovery by mere hypothesis unsupported
by facts or even by plausible argument, when his own
doctrine had been fully and irrefragably established by
the sure test of decisive experiment. Nor is it less sur¬
prising, that he should have taken great pains for se¬
veral years in the course of his lectures, in refuting the
arguments and in combating the objections of Meyer to
his own theory.
Dr Black’s reception at the university of Glasgow
%vas highly flattering and encouraging. As a student,
he had not only done himself much credit by his suc¬
cessful progress in the different pursuits in which lie
was engaged, but he had also during his residence there
conciliated the attachment and affection of the profes¬
sors in a high degree. When he returned as a pro¬
fessor, he was immediately connected in the strictest
friendship with Dr Adam Smith, then professor of mo¬
ral philosophy in that university. And this friend¬
ship, which now commenced, grew stronger and strong¬
er, and was never interrupted through the whole of
their lives. A simplicity and sensibility, an incorrup¬
tible integrity, the strictest delicacy and correctness of
manners, marked the character of each of the philo¬
sophers, and firmly bound them in the closest union.
At Glasgow, Dr Black soon acquired great reputa¬
tion as a professor, and became a favourite physician
in that large and active city. His engaging counte¬
nance, his agreeable and attractive manners, free from
all studied endeavours to please, and the kind concern
he took in the cases intrusted to his care, made him a
most welcome visitor in every family.
It was between the years 1759 and 1763, that he
brought to maturity his speculations concerning heat,
which had occupied his attention at intervals, from the
very first dawn of his philosophical investigations.
His discoveries in this department of science were by
far the most important of all that he made, and per¬
haps indeed the most valuable which appeared during
the busy period of the 18th century. To enter fully
into the nature of his investigations would be improper
in this place ; but the sum of them all was usually ex¬
pressed by him in the following propositions.
When a solid body is converted into a fluid,
there enters into it and unites with it, a quantity of
heat, the presence of which is not indicated by "the
thermometer, and this combination is the cause of the
fluidity which the body assumes. On the other hand,
when a fluid body is converted into a solid, a quantity
of heat separates from it, the presence of which was
not formerly indicated by the thermometer. And this
separation is the cause of the solid form which the fluid'
assumes.
When a liquid body is raised to the boiling tem¬
perature, by the continued and copious application of
beat, its particles suddenly attract to themselves a
great quantity of heat, and by this combination their
mutual relation is so changed that they no longer at¬
tract each other, but are converted into an elastic fluid
like air. On the other hand, when these elastic fluids,
either by condensation or by the application of cold bo¬
dies, are reconverted into liquids, they give out a vast
quantity of heat, the presence of which was not former¬
ly indicated by the thermometer.
Thus water when converted into ice gives out 140®
of heat, and ice when converted into water absorbs
140° of heat, and water when converted into steam
absorbs about iooo° of heat without becoming sensi¬
bly hotter than 212°. Philosophers had been long ac¬
customed to consider the thermometer as the surest me¬
thod of detecting heat in bodies, yet this instrument
gives no indication of the 140° of heat which enter
into air when it is converted into water, nor of the
loco0 which combine with water when it is converted
into steam. Dr Black, therefore, said that the heat
is concealed (latet') in the water and steam, and he
briefly expressed this fact by calling the heat in that
case latent heat.
Dr Black having established this discovery by sim¬
ple and decisive experiments, drew up an account of
the whole investigation, and read it to a literary socie¬
ty which met every Friday, in the faculty-room of the
college, consisting of the members of the university,
and several gentlemen of the city who had a relish for
philosophy and literature. This was done April 23.
1762, as appears by the registers. This doctrine was
immediately applied by its author to the explanation of
a vast number of natural phenomena, and in his experi¬
mental investigations he was greatly assisted by his two
celebrated pupils Mr Watt and Dr Irvine.
As Dr Black never published an account of his doc¬
trine of latent heat, though he detailed it every year
subsequent to 1762 in his lectures, which were fre¬
quented by men of science from all parts of Europe j
it became known only through that channel, and this
gave an opportunity to others to pilfer it from him
piece-meal. Dr Crawford’s ideas respecting the capa¬
city of bodies for heat, were originally derived from
Dr Black, who first pointed out the method of investi¬
gating that subject.
The investigations of Lavoisier and Laplace con¬
cerning heat, published many years after, were obvi¬
ously borrowed from Dr Black, and indeed consisted
in the repetition of the very experiments which he
had suggested. Yet these philosophers never mention
Dr Black at all : every thing in their dissertation as¬
sumes the air of originality ; and indeed they appear
to have been at great pains to prevent the opinions and
discoveries of Dr Black from being known among their
countrymen. But perhaps the most extraordinary pro¬
cedure was that of Mr Deluc j this philosopher had
expressed
B L A [ 540
Black, expressed his admiration of Dr Black’s theory of la-
 tent heat, and had offered to become his editor. Dr
Black, after much entreaty, at last consented, and
the proper information was communicated to Mr Deluc.
At last the Idees sur la Meteo?'ologie of that philoso¬
pher appeared in 1788. But what was the astonish¬
ment of Dr Black and his friends, when they found
the doctrine claimed by Deluc as his own, and an ex-
pi-ession of satisfaction at the knowledge which he had
acquired of Dr Black’s coincidence with him in opi¬
nion ! (M. Deluc has published an answer to this charge
in his own vindication. See Edin. Rev. N° 12. 1805.)
Dr Black continued in the university of Glasgow
from 1756 to 1766. In 1766 Dr Cullen was appoint¬
ed professor of medicine in the university of Edin¬
burgh, and thus a vacancy was made in the chemical
chair of that uriiversity. Dr Black was with univer¬
sal consent appointed his successor. In this new scene
his talents were more conspicuous, and more extensive¬
ly useful. He saw this, and while he could not but
be highly gratified by the great concourse of pupils
which the high reputation of the medical school of
Edinburgh brought to his lectures, his mind was for¬
cibly impressed by the importance of his duties as a
teacher. This had an effect which perhaps was on the
whole rather unfortunate. He directed his whole at¬
tention to his lectures, and his object was to make
them so plain that they should be adapted to the capa¬
city of the most illiterate of his hearers. The im¬
provement of the science seems to have been laid aside
by him altogether. Never did any man succeed more
completely. His pupils were not only instructed but
delighted. Many became his pupils merely in order
to be pleased. This contributed greatly to extend the
knowledge of chemistry. It became in Edinburgh a
fashionable part of the accomplishment of a gentleman.
. Perhaps also the delicacy of his constitution precluded
him from exertion ; the slightest cold, the most trifling
approach to repletion, immediately affected his breast,
occasioned feverishness, and if continued for two or
three days brought on a spitting of blood. Nothing
restored him but relaxation of thought and gentle exer¬
cise. rIhe sedentary life to which study confined him
was manifestly hurtful, and he never allowed himself to
indulge in any intense thinking without finding these
complaints sensibly increased.
So completely trammeled was he in this respect, that
although his friends saw others disingenuous enough to
avail themselves of the novelties announced by Dr
Black in his lectures, and therefor^ repeatedly urged
him to publish an account of what he had done, this
remained unaccomplished to the last. Dr Black often
began the task, but was so nice in his notions of the
manner in which it should be executed, that the pains
he took in forming a plan of the work, never failed
to afiect his health, and oblige him to desist. Indeed
he peculiarly disliked appearing as an author. His in¬
augural dissertation was the work of duty. His Experi¬
ments on Magnesia, Quicklime, and other alkaline sub¬
stances, was necessary to put what he had indicated in
his inaugural dissertations on a proper foundation. His
Observations on the more ready freezing of Water that
has been boiled, published in the Philosophical Trans¬
actions for I774» was also called for $ and his Analysis
of the Waters of some Boiling Springs in Iceland, made
3
]
B L A
at the request of his friend T. I. Stanley, Esq. was read
to the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and published by '
the council. And these are the only works of his
which have appeared in print.
iiie aspect of Dr Black was comely and interest-
ing. His countenance exhibited that pleasing expres¬
sion of inward satisfaction, which, by giving ease to
the beholder, never fails to please. His manner was
unaffected and graceful. Pie was affable, and readily
entered into conversation, whether serious or trivial.
He was a stranger to none of the elegant accomplish-
me.nts of life. He had a fine musical ear, with a
voice which would obey it in the most perfect manner j
for he sung, and performed on the flute, with great taste
and feeling, and could sing a plain air at sight, which
many instrumental performers cannot do. Without
having studied drawing, he had acquired a considerable
power of expressing with his pencil, and seemed in this
respect to have the talents of a history painter. Figure
indeed of every kind attracted his attention. Even a
retort, or a crucible, was to his eye an example of
beauty or deformity.
He had the strongest claim to the appellation of a
man of propriety and correctness. Every thing was
done in its proper season, and he ever seemed to have
leisure in store. He loved society, and felt himself be¬
loved in it $ never did he lose a single friend, except by
the stroke of death.
His only apprehension was that of a long continued
sick bed, less perhaps from any selfish feeling, than
from the consideration of the trouble and distress
which it would occasion to attending friends : and
never w’as this generous wish more completely grati¬
fied. On the 26th Nov. 1799? and in the 71st year
of his age, he expired without any convulsions, shock,
or stupor, to announce or retard the approach of death.
Being at table with his usual fare, some bread, a few
prunes, and a measured quantity of milk diluted with
water, and having the cup in his hand, when the last
stroke of the pulse was to be given, he set it down on '
his knees which were joined together, and kept it
steady with his hand in the manner of a person per¬
fectly at ease ; and in this attitude expired without
spilling a drop, and without a writhe in bis counte¬
nance, as if an experiment had been required to show
to his friends the facility with which he departed. His
servant opened the door to tell him that some one had
left his name j but getting no answer, stepped about
half-way towards him, and seeing him sitting in that
easy posture, supporting his bason of milk with one
hand, he thought that he had dropt asleep, which some¬
times happened after his meals. He went back and
shut the door, but before he went down stairs, some
anxiety which he could not account for, made him re¬
turn again and look at his master. Even then he was
satisfied after coming pretty near him, and turned to go
away %, but returning again, and coming close up to
him, he found him without life. {Ereface to Black's
Led. by Dr Robison).
Black, a well known colour, supposed to be ow¬
ing to the absence of light, most of the rays falling
upon black substances being not reflected but absorbed
by them. Concerning the peculiar structure of such
bodies as fits them for appearing of this or that particu¬
lar colour, see Colour and Dyeing.
Black.
'mJ'
Black-
B L A [641
IXa^Act ^LACK-Act; the statute of 9 Geo. I. e. 22. is com¬
monly called the JFaltham black act, because it was oc-
B!ack.eg8.casioned by the devastations committed near Waltham
^ 'in Essex, by persons in disguise, or with their faces
blacked. By this statute it is enacted, that persons
hunting armed and disguised, and killing or stealing
deer, or robbing warrens, or stealing fish out of any
river, &c. or any persons unlawfully hunting in his ma¬
jesty’s forests, &c, or breaking down the head of any
fish-pond, or killing, &c. of cattle, or cutting down trees,
or setting fire to house, barn, or wood, or shooting at
any person, or sending letters either anonymous or sign¬
ed with a fictitious name demanding money, &c. or res¬
cuing such offenders, are guilty of felony, without be¬
nefit ot clergy. This act is made perpetual by 31
Geo. II. c. 42.
BtACK-Bird. See TuRDUS, ORNITHOLOGY Index.
BLACK-Book of the Exchequer. See Exchequer.
BLACK-Books, a name given to those which treat of
necromancy, or, as some call it, negromancy. The
black-book of the English monasteries was a detail of
the scandalous enormities practised in religious houses,
compiled by order of the visitors under King Henry
VIII. to blacken, and thus hasten their dissolution.
BLACK-Cap. See Motacilla, Ornithology In¬
dex.
BhACK-Cock. See Tetrao, Ornithology Index.
BtACK-Eagle. See Falco, Ornithology Index.
Black-Eunuchs, in the customs of the eastern na¬
tions, are Ethiopians castrated, to whom their princes
commonly commit the care of their women# See Eu¬
nuch.
BLACK-Forest, a forest of Germany, in Suahia, run¬
ning from north to south between Ortnau, Brisgaw,
part of the duchy of Wirtemberg, the principality of
Fustemburg towards the source of the Danube, as far
as the Rhine above Basil. It is part of the ancient
Hercynian forest.
BLACK-Friars, a name given to the Dominican or¬
der j called also predicants, and preaching friars ; in
France, jacobins.
BLACK-Jack, ov Blende, is a mineral also called false
galena, blinde, &c. See Blende, Mineralogy In¬
dex.
BLACK-Land, in Agriculture, a term by which the
husbandmen denote a particular sort of clayey soil,
which, however, they know more by its other proper¬
ties than by its colour, which is x’arely any thing like a
true black, and often but a pale gray. This, however
pale when dry, always blackens by means of rains, and
when ploughed up at these seasons it sticks to the
ploughshares, and the more it is wrought the muddier
and duskier coloured it appears, This sort of soil al¬
ways contains a large quantity of sand, and usually a
great number of small white stones.
Black-Lead. See Plumbago, Mineralogy iWcvt.
Black-Leather, is that which has passed the curriers
hands, where, from the russet, as it wras left by the tan¬
ners, it is become black, by having been scored and
rubbed three times on the grain-side with copperas wa¬
ter. See Leather.
BLACK-Legs, a name given in Leicestershire to a dis¬
ease frequent among calves and sheep. It is a kind of
jelly which settles in their legs, and often in the neck,
between the skin and flesh.
Vol. III. Part II. t
] B L A
BLACK-Mail, a certain rate of money, corn, cattle, BiHck-Mail
or other matter, anciently paid by the inhabitants of
towns in Westmoreland, Cumberland, Northumber¬
land, and Durham, to divers persons inhabiting on or
near the borders, being men of name, and allied with
others in those parts, known to be great robbers and
spoil-takers ; in order to be by them freed and protect¬
ed from any pillage. Prohibited by 43 Eliz. c. 13.
The origin of this word is much contested, yet there
is ground to hold the word black to be here a cor¬
ruption of blank or white, and consequently to sig¬
nify a rent paid in a small copper coin called blanks.
This may receive some light from a phrase still used
in Picardy, where speaking of a person who lias not
a single halfpenny, they say, il «’ a pas une blanqiie
maille.
BLACK-Monks, a denomination given to the Bene¬
dictines, called in Latin nigri monachi, or nigro-mona-
chi; sometimes ordo nigrorum, “ the order of blacks.’’
Black-Oats. See Oats.
Black-Precession, in ecclesiastical writers, that which
is made in black habits, and with black ensigns and
ornaments. See Procession. Anciently at Malta
there was a black procession everv Fi'iday, where the
whole clergy walked with their faces covered with a
black veil.
BLACK-Bent, the same with black-mail, supposed to
be rents formerly paid in provisions and flesh, not in
specie.
BLACK-Bod. See Rod.
Black-Bow Grains, a species of iron-stone or ore
found in the mines about Dudley in Staffordshire.
Black Sea. See Supplement.
BLACK-Sheep, in the oriental history, the ensign of
standard of a race of Turcomans settled in Armenia
and Mesopotamia $ hence called the dynasty of the black
sheep.
Black Stones and Gems, according to Dr Wood¬
ward, owe their colour to a mixture of tin in their
composition.
BLACK-Stt'akes, a range of planks immediately above
the wales in a ship’s side. They are always covered
with a mixture of tar and lamp black.
Black-Tiu, in Mineralogy, a denomination given to
the tin-ore when dressed, stamped, and washed ready
for the blowing-house, or to be melted into metal. It
is prepared into this state by means of beating and
washing; and when it has passed through several bud¬
dies or washing troughs,^it is taken up in form of a
black powder, like fine sand, called black-tin.
Black-TFidd, in Mineralogy, a kind of ore of man¬
ganese, remarkable for its property of taking fire when
mixed with linseed oil in a certain proportion. It is
found in Derbyshire, and is used as a drying ingredient
in paints j for when ground with a large quantity of
oily matter it loses the property above mentioned. See
Manganese, Mineralogy Index.
BLACK-JFater, the name of two rivers in Ireland ;
one of which runs through the counties of Cork and
WTaterford, and falls into Youghal bay ; and the other,
after watering the county of Armagh, falls into Lough
Neagh.
BLACK-Whytlof in our old writers, bread of a mid¬
dle fineness betwixt white and brown, called in some
parts ravel-bread. In religious houses, it was the bread
4 M made
t
B L A [ 642 ] B L A
Black- made for ordinary guests, and distinguished from their
Whytloff household loaf, or pnnis conventualis, which was pure
Blacklock manc^et’ or vvhite bread.
> . Black-tTork, iron wrought by the blacksmiths*, thus
called by way of opposition to that wrought by white¬
smiths.
BLACKALL, Dr Offspring, bishop of Exeter
in the beginning of the 18th century, was born at Lon¬
don in 1654, and educated at Catharine-Hall, Cam¬
bridge. For two years he refused to take the oath of
allegiance to King William and Queen Mary, but at
last submitted to the government, though be seemed to
condemn the Revolution, and all that had been done
pursuant to it. He was a man of great piety, had
much primitive simplicity and integrity, and a constant
evenness of mind. In a sermon before the house of
commons, January 30. 1699, he animadverted on To-
land’s assertion in bis life of Milton, that Charles I.
was not the writer of the Icon Basilike, and for some
insinuations against the authenticity of the Holy Scrip¬
tures; which produced a controversy between him and
that author. In 1700, he preached a course of ser¬
mons in St Paul’s at Boyle’s lecture, which were af¬
terwards published ; and was consecrated bishop of Ex¬
eter in 1707. He died at Exeter in 1716, and was
interred in the cathedral there.
BLACKBANK, a town of Ireland, in the county
of Armagh and province of Ulster, seated in W. Long.
6. 55. N. Lat. 54. 12.
BLACKBERRY, See Rubus, Botany Index.
BLACKBURN, a town of Lancashire in England,
seated near the river Derwent. It takes its name from
the brook Blackvvater which runs through it. W. Long.
2. IJ. N. Lat. 53. 40.
BLACKING is sometimes used for a factitious
black ; as lamp-black, shoe-black, &c. A mixture of
ivory or lamp-black with linseed-oil makes the common
oil blacking. For a shining blacking, small-beer or
water is used instead of oil, in the proportion of about
a pint to an ounce of the ivory-black, with the addition
- of half an ounce of brown sugar, and as much gum ara¬
ble. The white of an egg substituted for the gum
makes the black more shining; but is supposed to hurt
the leather, and make it apt to crack.
BLACKLOCK, Dr Thomas, a clergyman, was
born at Annan in the south of Scotland in the year
1721. His father was a bricklayer; but though in this
humble sphere of life, was of a respectable character,
and not deficient in knowledge and urbanity. The
son was not quite six months old when he lost his eye¬
sight in the smallpox. This misfortune rendered him
incapable of learning any of the mechanical arts ; and
therefore his father kept him at home, and with the as¬
sistance of some friends fostered that inclination which,
at a very early period, he showed for books. This was
done by reading to him first the simple sort of pub¬
lications which are commonly put into the hands of
children, and then several of our best authors, such as
Milton, Spenser, Prior, Pope, and Addison. His com¬
panions, whom his early gentleness and kindness of dis¬
position, as well as their compassion for his misfortune,
strongly attached to him, were very assiduous in their
good offices, in reading to instruct and amuse him. By
their assistance he acquired some knowledge of the La¬
tin tongue, but he never was at a grammar-school till
2-
at a more advanced period of life. Poetry was even RLacklock
then his favourite reading ; and he found an enthusias- \
tic delight in the works of the best English poets, and
in those of his countryman Allan Ramsay. Even at an
age so early as twelve he began to write poems, one of
which is preserved in the collection that was published
after his death, and is not perhaps inferior to any of
the premature compositions of boys assisted by the best
education, which are only recalled into notice by the
future fame of their authors.
He had attained the age of nineteen when his father
was killed by the accidental fall of a malt-kiln belong¬
ing to his son-in-law. This loss, heavy to any one at
that early age, would have been, however, to a young
man possessing the ordinary means of support, and the
ordinary advantages of education, comparatively light;
but to him——thus suddenly deprived of that support on
which his youth had leaned—destitute almost of every
resource which industry affords to those who have the
blessings of sight—with a body feeble and delicate from
nature, and a mind congenially susceptible—it was not
surprising that this blow was doubly severe, and threw
on his spirits that despondent gloom to which he then
gave way in the following pathetic lines, and which
sometimes overclouded them jn the subsequent period
of his life.
“ Dejecting prospect! soon the hapless hour
“ May come; perhaps this moment it impends,
“ Which drives me forth to penury and cold,
“ Naked, and beat by all the storms of heav’n,
“ Friendless and guideless to explore my way ;
“ Till, on cold earth this poor unshelter’d head
“ Reclining, vainly from the ruthless blast
“ Respite I beg, and in the shock expire.”
He lived with his mother for about a year after his
father’s death, and began to be dLtinguished as a young
man of uncommon parts and genius. These wrere at
that time unassisted by learning; the circumstances of
his family affording him no better education than the
smattering of Latin which his companions had taught
him, and the perusal and recollection of the few Eng¬
lish authors which they, or his father in the intfcrvals of
his professional labours, had read to him. Poetry, how¬
ever, though it attains its highest perfection in a culti¬
vated soil, grows perhaps as luxuriantly in a wild one..
To poetry, as w’e have before mentioned, he was devot¬
ed from his earliest days ; and about this time seve¬
ral of his poetical productions began to be handed
about, which considerably enlarged the circle of bis
friends and acquaintance. Some of his compositions
being shewn to Dr Stevenson, an eminent physician of
Edinburgh, who was accidentally at Dumfries on a pro¬
fessional visit, that gentleman formed the benevolent
design of carrying him to the Scotch metropolis, and
giving to his natural endowments the assistance of a
classical education. He came to Edinburgh in the
year 1741, and was enrolled a student of divinity in the
university there, though at that time without any par¬
ticular view of entering into the church. In that uni¬
versity he continued his studies under the patronage of
Dr Stevenson till the year 1745, when he retired to
Dumfries, and resided in the house of Mr M‘Murdo,
who had married his sister, during the whole time of the
civil war, which then raged in the country, and parti¬
cularly
B L A [ 643 ] B L A
cularly disturbed the tranquillity of the metropolis.
—J When peace was restored to the nation, he returned to
the university, and pursued his studies for six years
longer. During this last residence in Edinburgh, he
obtained, among other literary acquaintance, that of
the celebrated Mr Hume, who attached himself warm¬
ly to Mr Blacklock’s interests, and was afterwards par¬
ticularly ueeful to him in the publication of the 4to
edition of his Poems, which came out by subscription
in London in the year 1756. Previously to this, two
editions in 8vo had been published at Edinburgh, the
first in 1746, and the second in 1754.
In the course of his education at Edinburgh, he ac¬
quired a proficiency in the learned languages, and be¬
came more a master of the French tongue than W’as
then common in that city. For this last acquisition he
was chiefly indebted to the social intercourse to which
lie had the good fortune to be admitted in the house
of Provost Alexander, who had married a native of
France. At the university he attained a knowledge
of the various branches of philosophy and theology, to
which his course of study naturally led, and acquired
at the same time a considerable fund of learning and
information in those various departments of science and
belles lettres, from which his want of sight did not ab¬
solutely preclude him.
In 1757, he began a course of study, with a view to
give lectures in oratory to young gentlemen intended
for the bar or the pulpit. On this occasion he wrote
to Mr Hume, informed him of his plan, and requested
his assistance in the prosecution of it. But Mr Hume
doubting the probability of its success, he abandoned
the project j and then, for the first time, adopted the
decided intention of going into the church of Scotland.
After applying closely for a considerable time to the
study of theology, he passed the usual trials in the pres¬
bytery of Dumfries, and was by that presbytery licensed
a preacher of the gospel in the year 1759. As a preacher
he obtained high reputation, and was fond of composing
sermons, of which he has left some volumes in manu¬
script, as also a Treatise on Morals.
In 1762 he married Miss Sarah Johnston, daughter
of Mr Joseph Johnston surgeon in Dumfries j a con¬
nexion which formed the great solace and blessing of
his future life, and gave him, with all the tenderness of
a wife, all the zealous care of a guardian and a friend.
This event took place a few days before his being or¬
dained minister of the town and parish of Kircudbright,
in consequence of a presentation from the crown, ob¬
tained for him by the earl of Selkirk, a benevolent no¬
bleman, whom Mr Blacklock’s situation and genius
had interested in his behalf. But the inhabitants of
the parish, whether from that violent aversion to pa¬
tronage, which was then so universal in the southern
parts of Scotland, from some political disputes which at
that time subsisted between them and his noble patron,
or from those prejudices which some of them might na¬
turally enough entertain against a pastor deprived of
sight, or perhaps from all these causes united, were so
extremely disinclined to receive him as their minister,
that after a legal dispute of nearly two years, it was
thought expedient by his friends, as it had always been
wished by himself, to compromise the matter, by re¬
signing his right to the living, and accepting a mode¬
rate annuity in its stead. With this slender provision
he removed in 1764 to Edinburgh ; and to make up Blacldock,
by his industry a more comfortable and decent subsist- ——y——
ence, he adopted the plan of receiving a certain num¬
ber of young gentlemen as boarders into his house,
whose studies in languages and philosophy he might,
if necessary, assist. In this situation he continued till
the year 1787, when he found his time of life and state
of health required a degree of quiet and repose which
induced him to discontinue the receiving of boarders.
In 1767 the degree of doctor in divinity was confer¬
red on him by the university and Marischal college of
Aberdeen.
In the occupation which he thus exercised for so ma¬
ny years of his life, no teacher was perhaps ever more
agreeable to his pupils, nor master of a family to its in¬
mates, than Dr Blaeklock. The gentleness of his
manners, the benignity of his disposition, and that
warm interest in the happiness of others which led him
so constantly to promote it, were qualities that could
not fail to procure him the love and regard of the
young people committed to his charge 5 while the so¬
ciety, which esteem and respect for his character and
his genius often assembled at his house, afforded them
an advantage rarely to be found in establishments of a
similar kind.
In this mixed society he appeared to forget the pri¬
vation of sight, and the melancholy which it might at
other times produce in his mind. He entered, with
the cheerful playfulness of a young man, into all the
sprightly narrative, the sportful fancy, and the humo¬
rous jest that arose around him. Next to conversation,
music was perhaps the source of his greatest delight j
for he not only relished it highly, but was himself a to¬
lerable performer on several instruments, particularly
the flute. He generally carried in his pocket a small
flageolet, on which he played his favourite tunes j and
was not displeased when asked in company to play or
to sing them j a natural feeling for a blind man, who
thus adds a scene to the drama of his society.
Of the happiness of others, however, we are incom¬
petent judges. Companionship and sympathy bring
forth those gay colours of mirth and cheerfulness
which they put on for a while, to cover perhaps that
sadness which we have no opportunity of witnessing.
Of a blind man’s condition we are particularly liable
to form a mistaken estimate ; we give him credit for
all those gleams of delight which society affords him,
without placing to their full account those dreary mo¬
ments of darksome solitude to which the suspension of
that society condemns him. Dr Blacklock had from
nature a constitution delicate and nervous, and his mind,
as is almost always the case, was in a great degree sub¬
ject to the indisposition of his body. He frequently
complained of a lowness and depression of spirits, which
neither the attention of his friends, nor the unceasing
care of a most affectionate wife, were able entirely to
remove. The imagination we are so apt to envy and
admire, serves but to irritate this disorder of the mind j
and that fancy in whose creation we so much delight,
can draw, from sources unknown to common men, sub¬
jects of disgust, disquietude, and affliction. Some of his
latter poems express a chagrin, though not of an un¬
gentle sort, at the supposed failure of his imaginative
powers, or at the fastidiousness of modern times, which
he despaired to please.
4 M 2
“ Such
B L A
Blaoklock, “ Such were his efforts, such his cold reward,
BW-knnt-c. “ Whom once thy partial tongue pronounc’d a bard
v~" “ Excursive, on the gentle gales of spring,
“ He rov’d, whilst favour imp’d his timid wingj
“ Exhausted genius now no more inspires,
“ But mourns abortive hopes and faded fires;
(i Hie short-liv’d wreath, which once his temple grac’d,
“ I'ades at the sickly breath of squeamish taste;
“ Whilst darker days his fainting flames immure
“ In cheerless gloom and winter premature.”
These lines are, however, no proof of “ exhausted
genius,” or “ faded fires.” “ Abortive hopes,” in¬
deed, must be the lot of all who, like Dr Blacklock,
reach the period of old age. In early youth, the heart
of every one is a poet; it creates a scene of imagined
happiness and delusive hopes ; it clothes the world in
the bright colours of its own fancy; it refines what is
coarse, it exalts what is mean ; it sees nothing but
disinterestedness in friendship, it promises eternal fide¬
lity in love. Even on the distresses of its situation it
can throw a certain romantic shade of melancholy, that
leaves a man sad, but does not make him unhappy. But
at a more advanced age, “ the fairy visions fade,” and
he suffers most deeply who has indulged them the
most.
About the time that these verses were written, Dr
Blacklock was, for the first time, afflicted with what to
him must have been peculiarly distressful. He became
occasionally subject to deafness, which, though he sel¬
dom felt it in any great degree, was sufficient, in his
situation, to whom the sense of hearing was almost the
only channel of communication with the external world,
to cause very lively uneasiness. Amidst these indispo¬
sitions of body, however, and disquietudes of mind,
the gentleness of his temper never forsook him, and he
felt all that resignation and confidence in the Supreme
Being which his earliest and his latest life equally ac¬
knowledged. In summer 1791 he was seized with a
feverish disorder, which at first seemed of a slight, and
never rose to a very violent kind ; but a frame so little
robust as his was not able to resist it, and after about
a week’s illness it carried him off on the 7th day of July
of that year.
Dr Blacklock’s writings consist chiefly of poems, of
which an edition in 4to was published in 1793. To
that edition was added, an Essay on the Education
of the Blind, translated from the French of M. Hauy.
He was also the author of the article Blind in the last
edition of this work.
BLACKMOBE, Sir Richard, a physician, and
voluminous writer of theological, poetical, and physi¬
cal works. Having declared himself early in favour
of the Revolution, King William, in 1697, chose him
one of his physicians in ordinary, and conferred the
honour of knighthood on him. On Queen Anne’s
accession, Sir Richard was also appointed one of her
physicians, and continued so for some time. Dryden
and Pope treated the poetical performances of Black-
more with great contempt; and in a note to the men¬
tion made of him in the Dunciad, we are informed that
his “ indefatigable muse produced no less than six
epic poems ; Prince and King Arthur, 20 books ; Eli¬
za, 10; Alfred, 12; The Redeemer, 6; beside Job,
ip folio; the whole book of Psalms; The Creation,
[ 644 ] B L A
seven books ; Nature of Man, three books ; and many j)]a v
more.” But notwithstanding Blackmore was much aC||IB‘I,e
ridiculed by the wits, he is not without merit; andBlaelist(»e,
Addison has, in the Spectator, bestowed some liberal
commendations on his poem on the Creation. It must
be mentioned, too, in honour of Sir Richard, that he
was a chaste writer, and a warm advocate for virtue, at
a time when an almost universal degeneracy prevailed.
He had been very free in his censures on the libertine
writers of his age ; and it was owing to some liberty he
had taken of this kind, that he drew upon him the re¬
sentment of Mr Dryden. He had likewise given of¬
fence to Mr Pope ; for having been informed by Mr
Curl that he was the author of a travestie on the first
Psalm, he took occasion to reprehend him for it in his
Essay on Polite Learning. Besides what are above men¬
tioned, Sir Richard wrote some theological tracts, and
several treatises on the plague, small-pox, consumptions,
the spleen, gout, dropsy, &c. and many other poetical
pieces. He died October 9. 1729.
BLACKNESS, the quality of a black body ; or a
colour arising from such a texture and situation of the
superficial parts of the body as does, as it were, deaden,
or rather absorb, the light falling upon it, without re¬
flecting any, or very little of it, to the eye.—In which
sense, blackness stands directly opposed to whiteness;
which consists in such a texture of parts as indifferently
reflects all the rays thrown upon it, of what colour so¬
ever they be.
Des Cartes, says Dr Priestley, though mistaken with
respect to the nature of light and colours, vet distin¬
guishes justly between black and white ; observing,
that black suffocates and extinguishes the light that falls
upon it, but that white reflects it. See Black.
BLACKS, in Physiology. See Negroes.
Blacks, is also a name given to an association of
disorderly and ill-designing persons, formerly herding
chiefly about Waltham in Essex, who destroyed deer,
robbed fish-ponds, ruined timber, &c. See Black-AcI.
BLACKSTONE, Sir William, an eminent Eng¬
lish lawyer, was born at London, in July 1723. His
father, Mr Charles Blackstone, a silk-man, citizen,
and bowyer of London, died* some months before the
birth of our author, who was the youngest of four chil¬
dren : and their mother died before he was 12 years
old. Even from his birth, the care both of his educa¬
tion and fortune was kindly undertaken by his mater¬
nal uncle Mr Thomas Bigg, an eminent surgeon in
London, and afterwards on the death of his elder
brothers, owners of the Chilton estate, which is still
enjoyed by that family. In 1730, being about seven
years old, he was put to school at the Charter-house;
and in 1735 'vas> by the nomination of Sir Robert
Walpole, on the recommendation of Charles Wither
of Hall in Hampshire, Esq. his cousin by the mo¬
ther’s side, admitted upon the foundation there. In
this excellent seminary he applied himself to every
branch of youthful education, with the same assiduity
which accompanied his studies through life. His ta¬
lents and industry rendered him the favourite of his
masters, who encouraged and assisted him with the ut¬
most attention : so that at the age of 15 he was at the
head of the school, and although so young, was thought
well qualified to be removed to the university. He
was accordingly entered a commoner at Pembroke col-
•14!
B L A [ 645 ] B L A
^c^pjege in Oxford, on the 30th of November 1738, and
- * was the next day matriculated. At this time he was
elected to one of the Charter-house exhibitions by the
governors of that foundation, to commence from the
Michaelmas preceding; but was permitted to continue
a scholar there till after the I2th of December, being
the anniversary commemoration of the founder, to give
him an opportunity of speaking the customary oration
which he had prepared, and which did him much cre¬
dit. About this time also he obtained Mr Benson’s
gold prize-medal of Milton, for verses on that poet.
In the February following, the society of Pembroke
college unanimously elected him to one of Lady Hol-
ford’s exhibitions for Charter-house scholars in that
house. Here he prosecuted his studies with unremit¬
ting ardour; and although Bie classics, and parti¬
cularly the Greek and lloman poets, were his fa¬
vourites, they did not entirely engross his attention :
logic, mathematics, and the other sciences, were not
neglected. At the early age of 20, he compiled a
treatise entitled Elements of Architecture, intended for
his own use only, and not for publication ; but esteem¬
ed by those judges who have perused it, in no re¬
spect unworthy his maturer judgment and more exer¬
cised pen.
Having determined on his future plan of life, and
made choice of the law for his profession, he was en¬
tered in the Middle Temple on the 20th of Novem¬
ber 1741. He now found it necessary to quit the
more amusing pursuits of his youth, for the severer stu¬
dies to which he had dedicated himself; and betook
himself seriously to reading law. He expressed his dis¬
agreeable sensations on this occasion in a copy of
verses, since published by Dodsley in vol. iv. of his
miscellanies, entitled The Lawyer's Farewell to his
Muse; in which the struggle of his mind is expressed
»o strongly, so naturally, with such elegance of sense
and language, and harmony of versification, as must
convince evei'y reader that his passion for the muses
was too deeply rooted to be laid aside without much
reluctance; and that, if he had pursued that flowery
path, he would perhaps have proved inferior to few of
our English poets. Several little fugitive pieces be¬
sides this, have at times been communicated by him to
his friends ; and he left (but not with a view of publi¬
cation) a small collection of juvenile pieces, both ori¬
ginals and translations, inscribed with this line from
Horace,
Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum.
Some notes on Shakespeare, which just before his
death he communicated to Mr Steevens, and which
were inserted by him in his last edition of that author,
show how well he understood the meaning, as well as
the beauties, of that his favourite among the English
poets.
In November 1743, he was elected into the society
of All-Soul’s college ; and in the November following,
he spoke the anniversary speech in commemoration of
Archbishop Chicheley the founder, and the other bene¬
factors to that house of learning, and was admitted ac¬
tual fellow'. From this period he divided his time be¬
tween the university and the Temple, where he took
chambers in order to attend the courts : in the former
he pursued Iris academical studies, and on the 12th of
June 1745 commenced bachelor of civil law: in the lat-Blackstonc.
ter he applied himself closely to his profession, both in 1 ~ v ■ 1
the hall and in his private studies, and on the 28th of
November 1746 wa£ called to the bar. Though be
w'as little known or distinguished in Westminster hall,
he was actively employed during his occasional resi¬
dence at the university, in attending to its interests, and
mingling with and improving its interior concerns. In
May 1749, as a small reward for his services, and to give
him further opportunities of advancing the interests of
the college, Mr Blackstone was appointed steward of
their manors. And in the same year, on the resignation
ol his uncle Seymour Richmond, Esq. he was elected
recorder of the borough of Wallingford in Berkshire,
and received the king’s approbation on the 30th of
May. The 26th of April 1750, he commenced doc¬
tor of civil law, and thereby became a member of the
convocation, which enabled him to extend his views
beyond the narrow circle of his own society, to the ge¬
neral benefit of the university at large. In the summer
1753, he took the resolution of wholly retiring to his
fellowship and an academical life, still continuing the
practice of his profession as a provincial counsel.
His Lectures on the Laws of England appear to
have been an early and favourite idea; for in the Mi¬
chaelmas term, immediately after he quitted Westmin-
ster-hall, he entered on the province of reading them
at Oxford ; and we are told by the author of his life,
that even at their commencement, such were the expec¬
tations formed from the acknowledged abilities of the
lecturer, they w’ere attended by a very crowded class of
young men of the first families, characters, and hopes;
but it was not till the year 1758, that the lectures in
the form they now' bear were read at the university.
Mr Viner having by his will left not only the copy¬
right of his abridgment, but other property to a con¬
siderable amount, to the university of Oxford, to found
a professorship, fellowships, and scholarships of common
law', he was on the 20th October 1758 unanimously
elected Vinerian professor; and on. the 25th of the
same month read his first introductory lecture, which
he published at the request of the vice-chancellor and
heads of houses, and afterwards prefixed to the first
volume of his Commentaries. His lectures now had
gained such universal applause, that he was requested
by a noble personage who superintended the education
ot our present sovereign, then prince of Wales, to read
them to his royal highness ; but as he was at that
time engaged to a numerous class of pupils in the uni¬
versity, he thought he could not, consistently with that
engagement, comply with this request, and therefore
declined it. But he transmitted copies of many of
them for the perusal of his royal highness ; who, far
from being offended at an excuse grounded on so
honourable a motive, was pleased to order a hand¬
some gratuity to be presented to him. It is doubtful
whether the Commentaries were originally intended
for the press ; but many imperfect and incorrect copies
having got abroad, and a pirated edition of them being
either published, or preparing for publication in Ire¬
land, the learned lecturer thought proper to print a
correct edition himself; and in November 1765 pu¬
blished the first volume under the title of Commentaries
on the Laws of England; and in the course of the four
succeeding years, the remaining parts of this admirable
, work.
B L A [ 646 ] B L A
'BUckstone, work. It ought to be remarked, that before this pe-
BlackwaiL riod the reputation his lectures deservedly acquired him
v ^ had induced him to resume his practice in Westminster-
hall 5 and in a course somewhat inverted from the ge¬
neral progress of his profession, he who had quitted the
bar for an academic life, was sent back from the col¬
lege to the bar, with a considerable increase of business.
He was likewise elected into parliament, first for Hin-
don, and afterwards for Westbury in Wilts j but in
neither of these departments did he equal the expecta¬
tions his writings had raised. The part he took in the
Middlesex election drew upon him the attack of some
persons of ability in the senate, and likewise a severe
* Junius, animadversion of one of the keenest polemical writers*
in the paper rvar of that day. This circumstance pro¬
bably strengthened the aversion he professed to parlia¬
mentary attendance ; “ where, (he said) amidst the
rage of contending parties, a man of moderation must
expect to meet with no quarter from any sideand
when, on the resignation of Mr Dunning in 1770, he
was offered the place of solicitor-general, he refused
that office ; but shortly afterwards, on the promotion
of Sir Joseph Yates to a seat in the court of common-
pleas, accepted a seat on the bench, and by the death
of Sir Joseph succeeded him there also. As a judge,
he was not inactive ; but, when not occupied in the
duties of his station, was generally engaged in some
scheme of public utility. The act for detached
houses for hard labour for convicts, as a substitute for
transportation, owed its origin in a great measure to
him.
It ought not to be omitted, that the last augmenta¬
tion of the judges salaries, calculated to make up the
deficiencies occasioned by the heavy taxes they are
subject to, and thereby render them more independent,
was obtained in a great measure by his industry and
attention. This respectable and valuable man died
on the 14th of February 1780, in the 50th year of his
age.
BLACKWALL, Anthony, A. M. a learned
author, after completing his academical education at
Emanuel college, Cambridge, was appointed head ma¬
ster of the free school at Derby, and lecturer of All¬
hallows there, where he first distinguished himself in
the literary world by an edition of Theognis, printed
at London in 1706, and was afterwards head master
of the free school at Market-Bosworth in Leicester¬
shire. The grammar whereby he initiated the youth
under his care into Latin, was of his own composing,
and so happily fitted for the purpose, that he was pre¬
vailed on to make it public, though his modesty would
not permit him to fix his name to it, because he would
not be thought to prescribe to other instructors of
youth. It is entitled, “ A New Latin Grammar;
being a short, clear, and easy introduction of young
Scholars to the Knowledge of the Latin Tongue ; con¬
taining an exact Account of the two first Parts of Gram¬
mar.” In his “ Introduction to the Classics,” first
published in 1718, l2mo, he displayed the beauties
of those admirable writers of antiquity, to the under¬
standing and imitation even of common capacities $
and that in so concise and clear a manner, as seemed
peculiar to himself. But his greatest and most cele¬
brated work was, “ The sacred Classics defended and
illustrated ; or, An Essay humbly offered towards pre-]pa i
serving the Purity, Propriety, and True Eloquence of Bladn^ii'
the Writers of the New Testament,” in 2 vols. Mr L—v—'
Blackwall had the felicity to bring up many excellent
scholars in his seminaries at Derby and Bosworth; a-
mong others, the celebrated Richard Dawes, author of
the Miscellanea Critica. A gentleman who had been his
scholar, being patron of the church of Clapham in Sur¬
rey, presented him to that living as a mark of his gra¬
titude and esteem. This happening late in life, and
Blackwall having occasion to wait upon the bishop of
the diocese, he was somewhat pertly questioned by a
young chaplain as to the extent of his learning. “ Boy
(replied the indignant veteran), I have forgot more
than ever you knew !” He died at Market-BosWorth,
April 8. 1730.
BLACKWELL, Thomas, an eminent Scottish
writer, was son of a minister at Aberdeen, and born
there 1701. He had his grammatical learning at a
school in Aberdeen, studied Greek and philosophy in
the Marischal college there, and took the degree of
M. A. in 1718. Being greatly distinguished by un¬
common parts, and an early proficiency in letters, he
was, Dec. 1723, made Greek professor in the college
where he had been educated ; and continued to teach
that language with applause even to his death. In
1737, was published at London, but without his name,
“ An Enquiry into the Life and Writings of Homer,”
8vo ; a second edition of which appeared in 1736;
and not long after, “ Proofs of the Enquiry into Ho¬
mer’s Life and Writings,” which was a translation of
the Greek, Latin, Spanish, Italian, and French notes,
subjoined to the original work. In 1748, he published
“Letters concerning Mythology,” 8vo; without his
name also. The same year, he was made principal of
the Marischal college in Aberdeen, and is the only lay¬
man who hath been appointed principal of that col¬
lege, since the patronage came to the crown, by the
forfeiture of the Marischal family, in 1716 ; all the
other principals having been ministers of the church of
Scotland. March 1752, he took the degree of doctor
of larvs : and the year following came out the first vo¬
lume of his Memoirs of the Court of Augustus, 410.
The second volume appeared in 1755 j and the third,
which was posthumous, and left incomplete by the au¬
thor, was fitted for the press by John Mills, Esq. and
published in 1764. At the same time was published a
third edition of the two former volumes : Which is a
proof of the good reception the work met with from
the public ; though it must be acknowledged that the
parade with which it is written, and the peculiarity ol
its language, exposed it to some severity of censure.
Soon after he became principal of his college, he
married a merchant’s daughter of Aberdeen, by whom
he had no children. Several years before his death, his
health began to decline : his disorder was of the con¬
sumptive kind, and thought to be forwarded by an
excess of abstemiousness which he imposed upon him¬
self. His disease increasing, he was advised to travel,
and accordingly set out in Feb. 1757 5 however, he was
not able to go farther than Edinburgh, in which city
he died the 8th of March following, in his 56th year.
He was a very ingenious and very learned man : be had
an equable flow of temper, and a truly philosophic
spirit,
ire!
.Itf
B L A [ 647 '] B L A
Blackiell, spirit* both which he seems to have preserved to the
last; for on the day of his death he wrote to several of
his friends.
Blackwell, Alexander, son of a dealer in knit-
hose, at Aberdeen, where he received a liberal edu¬
cation, studied physic under Boerhaave at Leyden,
took the degree of M, D. and acquired a proficiency
in the modern languages. On his return home, hap¬
pening to stay some time at the Hague, he contracted
an intimacy with a Swedish nobleman. Marrying a
gentleman’s daughter in the neighbourhood of Aber¬
deen, he proposed practising his profession in that part
of the kingdom j but in two years finding his expecta¬
tions disappointed, he came to London, where he met
with still less encouragement as a physician, and com¬
menced corrector of the press for Mr Wilkins a prin¬
ter. After some years spent in this employment, he
set up as a printer himself: and carried on several large
works till 1734, when he became bankrupt. In what
manner he subsisted for a considerable time after this
event we do not learn, unless it was by the ingenu¬
ity of his wife, who published “ A curious Her¬
bal, containing 500 Cuts of the most useful Plants
which are now used in the Practice of Physic, engraved
on folio Copperplates, after Drawings taken from the
Life, by Elizabeth Blackwell. To which is added a
short Description of the Plants, and their common
Uses in Physic, 1739,” 2 vols. foHo. In or about the
year 1740 he went to Sweden, and renewing his inti¬
macy with the nobleman he knew at the Hague, again
assumed the medical profession, and was very well re¬
ceived in that capacity $ till turning projector, he laid
a scheme before his Swedish majesty for draining the
fens and marshes, which was well received, and many
thousands employed in prosecuting it under the doc¬
tor’s direction, from which he had some small allow¬
ance from the king. This scheme succeeded so well,
lie turned his thoughts to others of greater import¬
ance, which in the end proved fatal to him. He
was suspected of being concerned in a plot with Count
Tessin, and was tortured ; which not producing a con¬
fession, he was beheaded August 9. 1748 ; and soon
after this event appeared “ A genuine Copy of a Let¬
ter from a merchant in Stockholm to his correspond¬
ent in London 5 containing an Impartial Account of
Doctor Alexander Blackwell, his Plot, Trial, Charac¬
ter, and Behaviour, both under Examination and at
the Place of Execution ; together with a copy of a
Paper delivered to a Friend upon the Scaffold.” He
possessed a good natural genius, but was somewhat
flighty and a little conceited. His conversation, how¬
ever, was facetious and agreeable ; and he might be
I considered on the whole as a well-bred accomplished
I gentleman.
BLADDER, in Anatomy, a thin expanded mem¬
branous body, found in several parts of an animal, ser¬
ving as a receptacle of some juice, or of some liquid ex¬
crement \ from whence it takes various denominations,
| as urine-bladder, gall-bladder, &c.
Bladder, by W'ay of eminence, is a large vessel
j which serves as a receptacle of the urine of animals, af¬
ter its secretion from the blood in the kidneys. This
I is sometimes also called, by way of distinction, the uri-
j nary bladder, vesica urinaria. The bladder is situated
in the pelvis of the abdomen j in men immediately on
the rectum ; in women on the vagina uteri. See Ana¬
tomy Index.
Though the urinary bladder be naturally single, yet
there have been instances of nature’s varying from her¬
self in this particular. The bladder of the famous Ca-
saubon, upon dissecting his body after his death, was
found to be double j and in the Philosophical Transac¬
tions, we have an account of a triple bladder found in
the body of a gentleman who bad long been ill and no
one could guess the cause.
The urinary bladders of brutes are differently contri¬
ved from the human bladder, and from each other ac¬
cording to the structure, economy, and manners of liv¬
ing of each creature. See Anatomy Index.
Bladders, when below a certain magnitude, are more
usually denominated by the diminutive vesicles,
Of these we meet with many sorts both in the animal
and vegetable world 5 some natural, as in the lungs, es¬
pecially of frogs, and, as some also imagine, in the
muscles j others morbid or preternatural, as the hydati-
des, and those observable in the itch. Naturalists have
also discovered bladders in the thorax and abdomen of
Bladder
1!
Bladiufc.
birds, as wrell as others in the belly of fishes, called air-¬
bladders, and swims.
Vegetable bladders are found everywhere in the
structure of the bark, the fruit, pith, and parenchyma
or pulp j besides those morbid ones raised on the sur¬
face of leaves by the puncture of insects.
BLADDER-Nut. See Staphyltea, Botany Index.
BLARDER-Senna. See Colutea, Botany Index.
BLADE, in commerce, a thin slender piece of me¬
tal, either forged by the hammer or run and cast in
moulds, to be afterwards sharpened to a point, edge, or
the like.
Sword-blades are made by the armourers, knife-blades
by the cutlers, &c. The English and Damascus blades
are most esteemed ; among the French, those of Vienne
in Dauphiny have the preference. The conditions of a
good blade of a small sword are, that it be light and
tough, apter to bend than break. When it will stand
in the bend, it is called a poor man's blade.
BLADEN, Martin, a translator and dramatic au°
thor, was formerly an officer in the army, bearing the
commission of a lieutenant-colonel in Queen Anne’s
reign, under the great duke of Marlborough, to whom
he dedicated a translation of Caesar’s Commentaries,
which he had completed, and which is to this day a
book held in good estimation. In 1714, he was made
one of the Lords Commissioners of Trade and Planta¬
tions j and in 1717 was appointed envoy extraordinary
to the court of Spain, in the room of Brett, Esq.
but declined it, choosing rather to keep the post he al¬
ready had, which was worth icool. per annum, and
which he never parted with till his death, which was
in May 1746- Tfe was also many years member of par¬
liament for the town of Portsmouth. He wrote two
dramatic pieces j both of which (for the one is only a
masque introduced in the third act of the other) were
printed in the year 1705, without the author’s consent.
Their names are, 1. Orpheus and Euridice, a masque.
1. Solon, a tragic-comedy.
BLADUM, in the middle-age writers, is taken for
all sort of standing corn in the blade and ear. The
word is also written blatnm, blava, and blavium.
In our old charters, the word bladum included the
whole
B L A [Ml B L A
Eladujn ’ivliole product of the ground, fruit, corn, flax, grass,
R. &c. and whatever was opposed to living creatures. It
‘iir* was sometimes also applied to all sorts of grain or corn
thrashed on the floor. But the word was more pecu¬
liarly appropriated to bread-corn, or wheat, called in
French ble. Thus the knights templars are said to
have granted to Sir Wido de Meriton’s wife duas sum-
mas bladi.
BLAEU, William, a famous printer of Amster¬
dam, a disciple and friend of Tycho Brahe’s : his At¬
las, his Treatises of the Globes, Astronomical Institu¬
tions, &c. and his fine impressions, have secured his
memory. He died in 1638.
BLAFART, in commerce, a small coin, current at
Cologne, worth something more than a farthing of our
money.
BLAGRAVE, John, the second son of John Bla-
grave of Bulmarsh-court near Sunning in Berkshire,
descended of an ancient family in that county. From
a grammar school at Reading he was sent to St John’s
college in Oxford, where he applied himself chiefly to
the study of mathematics, and without taking any
degree, afterwards retired to his patrimonial seat of
Southcole-lodge near Reading, where he spent the re¬
mainder of his life. In this mansion he died in the
year 1611 5 and was buried in the church of St Law¬
rence, where a sumptuous monument was erected to
his memory. Having never married, he bequeathed to
all the posterity of his three brothers, the sum of 50I.
each, payable at the age of 26 ; and he calculated his
donation so well, that near fourscore of his nephews and
their descendants have reaped the benefit of it. He
also settled certain lands at Swallovvfield in the same
county, as a provision for the poor for ever. Among
other charities, he left ten pounds to be annually dis¬
posed of in the following manner: On Good Friday,
the church-wardens of each of the three parishes of
Reading send to the town-hall one virtuous maid, who
has livedJive years with her master : there, in the pre¬
sence of the magistrates, these three virtuous maids
throw dice for the ten pounds. The two losers are re¬
turned with a fresh one the year following, and again
the third year, till each has had three chances. Ele is
said to have been not more remarkable for his mathe¬
matical knowledge than for his candour and generosity
to his acquaintance. His ivorks are, A mathematical
jewel. Lond. 1585, fol. 2. Of the making and use of
the familiar staff. Lond. 1590, 4to. 3. Astrolabium
uranicum generule. Lond. 1596, 4to. 4. The art of
dialing. Lond. 1609, 4to.
BLAIN, among farriers, a distemper incident to
beasts, being a certain bladder growing on the root of
the tongue against the windpipe, which swells to such
a. pitch as to stop the breath. It comes by great cha¬
fing and heating of the stomach, and is perceived by the
beast’s gaping and bolding out his tongue, and foaming
at the mouth. To cure it, cast the beast, take forth his
tongue, and then, slitting the bladder, wash it gently
with vinegar and a little salt.
BLAIR, Hr Hugh, a distinguished clergyman of
the church of Scotland, was born in Edinburgh in
1718. His father, John Blair, was a merchant in that
city, and grandson of the famous Mr Robert Blair,
minister of St Andrew’s, and chaplain to King Charles
I. j and one of the most distinguished clergymen of the
period in which he lived. The views of Dr Blair, Blair,
from his earliest youth, were turned toward the church, u“"-v—
and his education received a suitable direction. After
the usual grammatical course at school, he entered the
humanity class in the university of Edinburgh, in
October 1730, and spent eleven years at that celebra¬
ted seminary, assiduously employed in the literary and
scientific studies prescribed by the church of Scotland
to all who are to become candidates for her license to
preach the gospel. During this important period he
was distinguished among his companions both for dili¬
gence and proficiency 5 and obtained from the profes¬
sors under whom he studied repeated testimonies of ap¬
probation. One of them deserves to be mentioned par¬
ticularly, because in his own opinion it determined the
bent of his genius toward polite literature. An essav,
ITsg< t6v xctXev, On the Beautiful, written by him when
a student of logic in the usual course of academical ex*
ercises, had the good fortune to attract the notice of
Professor Stevenson, and, with circumstances honour¬
able to the author, was appointed to be read in public
at the conclusion of the session. This mark of distinc¬
tion made a deep impression on his mind 5 and the es¬
say which merited it he ever after recollected with par¬
tial affection, and preserved to the day of his death as
the first earnest of his fame.
At this time Dr Blair commenced a method of stu¬
dy which contributed much to the accuracy and ex¬
tent ol his knowledge, and which he continued to prac¬
tise occasionally even after his reputation was fully es¬
tablished. It consisted in making abstracts of the most
important works which he read, and in digesting them
according to the train of his own thoughts. History,
in particular, he resolved to study in this manner; and,
in concert with some of his youthful associates, he con¬
structed a very comprehensive scheme of chronological
tables for receiving into its proper place every import¬
ant fact that should occur. The scheme devised by
this young student for his own private use was after¬
wards improved, filled up, and given to the public, by
his learned friend Dr John Blair, prebendary of West¬
minster, in his valuable work, “ Chronology and His¬
tory of the World.”
In the year I739> Blair took his degree of A. M.
On that occasion he printed and defended a thesis, Be
Fundamentis et Obligatione Legis ISaturce, which con¬
tains a short but masterly discussion of this important
subject, and exhibits, in elegant Latin, an outline of
the moral principles which have been since more fully
unfolded and illustrated in his Sermons.
The university of Edinburgh, about this period, num¬
bered among her pupils many young men who were
soon to make a distinguished figure in the civil, the ec¬
clesiastical, and the literary history of their country*
With most of them Dr Blair entered into habits of in¬
timate connection, which no future competition or jea¬
lousy occurred to interrupt, which held them united
through life in their views of public good, and which
had the most beneficial influence on their own improve¬
ment, on the progress of elegance and taste among their
contemporaries, and on the general interests of the com¬
munity to which they belonged.
On the completion of his academical course, he un-
derwent the customary trials before the presbytery of
Edinburgh, and received from that venerable body a
license
dr,
B L A [ 649 ] B L A
31,-, license to preach the gospel on the 21st of October
- V—' 1741. His public life now commenced with very fa¬
vourable prospects. The reputation which he brought
from the university was fully justified by his first ap¬
pearance in the pulpit j and, in a few months, the fame
of his eloquence procured for him a presentation to the
parish of Colessie in Fife, where he was ordained to the
office of the holy ministry on the 23d of September
1742. But he was not permitted to remain long in
this rural retreat. A vacancy in the second charge of
the Canongate of Edinburgh furnished to his friends
an opportunity of recalling him to a station more suit¬
ed to his talents. And, though one of the most popu¬
lar and eloquent clergymen in the church was placed
in cotnpetition with him, a great majority of the elec¬
tors decided in favour of this young orator, and re¬
stored him, in July 1743, to the bounds of his native
city.
In this station Dr Blair continued eleven years, dis¬
charging with great fidelity and success the various du¬
ties of the pastoral office. His discourses from the pul¬
pit in particular attracted universal admiration. They
were composed with uncommon care; and occupying
a middle place between the dry metaphysical discussion
of one class of preachers, and the loose incoherent decla¬
mation of another, they blended together, in the hap¬
piest manner, the light of argument with the warmth of
exhortation, and exhibited captivating specimens of what
had hitherto been rarely heard in Scotland—the polish¬
ed, well-compacted, and regular didactic oration.
In consequence of a call from the town-council and
general session of Edinburgh, he was translated from the
Canongate to Lady Yesters, one of the city churches,
on the nth of October 1754: and on the 15th of
June 1758, he was promoted to the High Church of
Edinburgh, the most important ecclesiastical charge in
the kingdom. To this charge he was raised at the
request of the lords of council and session, and of the
other distinguished official characters, who have their
seats in that church. And the uniform prudence, abili¬
ty, and success, which, for a period of more than forty
years, accompanied all his ministerial labours in that
conspicuous and difficult station, sufficiently evince the
wisdom of their choice.
Hitherto his attention seems to have been devoted
almost exclusively to the attainment of professional ex¬
cellence, and to the regular discharge of his parochial
duties. No production of his pen had yet been given
to the world by himself, except two sermons preached
on particular occasions ; some translations, in verse, of
passages of Scripture, for the psalmody of the church $
and a few articles in the Edinburgh Review, a pub¬
lication begun in 1755, and conducted for a short time
by some of the ablest men in the kingdom. But stand¬
ing as he now did at the head of his profession, and re¬
leased by the labour of former years from the drudge¬
ry of weekly preparation for the pulpit, he began to
think seriously on a plan for teaching to others that art
which had contributed so much to the establishment of
his own fame. With this view, he communicated to
his friends a scheme of Lectures on Composition $ and
1 having obtained the approbation of the university, he
began to read them in the college on the nth of De¬
cember 1759. To this undertaking he brought all
the qualifications requisite for executing it well 5 and
Vol. III. Part II. f
along with them a weight of reputation which could pjair,
not fail to give effect to the lessons he should deliver,
For beside the testimony given to his talents by his suc¬
cessive promotions in the church, the university of St
Andrews, moved chiefly by the merit of his eloquence,
had, in June 1757, conferred on him the degree of
D. D. a literary honour which at that time was very
rare in Scotland. Accordingly his first course of lec¬
tures was well attended, and received with great ap¬
plause. The patrons of the university, convinced that
they would form a valuable addition to the system of
education, agreed in the following summer to institute
a rhetorical class, under his direction, as a permanent
part of their academical establishment j and on the 7th
of April 1762, his majesty was graciously pleased “ To
erect and endow a professorship of rhetoric and belles
lettres in the university of Edinburgh, and to appoint
Dr Blair, in consideration of his approved qualifications,
regius professor thereof, with a salary of 7ol.” These
lectures he published in 1783, when he retired from the
labours of the office ; and the general voice of the public
has pronounced them to be a most judicious, elegant,
and comprehensive system of rules for forming the style,
and cultivating the taste of youth.
About the time in which he was occupied in laying
the foundations of this useful institution, he had an op¬
portunity of conferring another important obligation
on the literary world, by the part which be acted in
rescuing from oblivion the poems of Ossian. It was
by the solicitation of Dr Blair and Mr John Home
that Mr Macpherson was induced to publish his Frag¬
ments of Ancient Poetry; and their patronage was of
essential service in procuring the subscription which
enabled him to undertake his tour through the High¬
lands, for collecting the materials of Fingal, and of
those other delightful productions which bear the name
of Ossian. To these productions Dr Blair applied the
test of genuine criticism ; and soon after their publica¬
tion gave an estimate of their merits in a Dissertation,
which, for beauty of language, delicacy of taste, and
acuteness of critical investigation, has few parallels.
It was printed in 1763, and spread the reputation of its
author throughout Europe.
The great objects of his literary ambition being now
attained, his talents were for many years consecrated
solely to the important and peculiar employments of
his station. It was not till the year 1777, that he
could be induced to favour the world with a volume
of the sermons which had so long furnished instruction
and delight-to his own congregation. But this vo¬
lume being well received, the public approbation en¬
couraged him to proceed; three other volumes follow¬
ed at different intervals ; and all of them experienced a
degree of success of which few publications can boast.
They circulated rapidly and widely, wherever the
English tongue extends; they were soon translated into
almost all the languages of Europe j and his present
majesty, with that wise attention to the interests of re¬
ligion and literature which distinguishes his reign, was
graciously pleased to judge them worthy of a public re¬
ward. By a royal mandate to the exchequer in Scot¬
land, dated the 25th of July 1780, a pension of 200I.
a-year was conferred on their author, which continued
Unaltered till his death.
The motives which gave rise to the fifth volume
4 N are
B L A [ 650 ] B L A
Blair, are sufficiently explained by himself in bis address to
-"v—the reader. The sermons which it contains were com¬
posed at very difl’erent periods of his life 5 but they were
all written out anew in his own hand, and in many
parts recomposed, during the course of the summer 1800,
after he had completed his eighty-second year. They
were delivered to the publishers about six weeks be¬
fore his death in the form and order in which they
now appear. And it may gratify his readers to know
that the last of them which he composed, though not
the last in the order adopted for publication, was the
sermon on a Life of Dissipation and Pleasure—a sermon
written with great dignity and eloquence, and which
should be regarded as his solemn parting admonition to
a class of men whose conduct is highly important to the
community, and whose reformation and virtue he had
long laboured most zealously to promote.
The sermons which he has given to the world are
universally admitted to be models in their kind ; and
they will long remain durable monuments of the piety,
the genius, and sound judgment of their author. But
they formed only a small part of the discourses he pre¬
pared for the pulpit. The remainder modesty led him
to think unfit for the press : and, influenced by an ex¬
cusable solicitude for his reputation, he left behind him
an explicit injunction that his numerous manuscripts
should be destroyed. The greatness of their number
was creditable to his professional character, and exhi¬
bited a convincing proof that his fame as a public
teacher had been honourably purchased by the most
unwearied application to the private and unseen labours
of his office. It rested on the uniform intrinsic excel¬
lence of his discourses in point of matter and composi¬
tion, rather than on foreign attractions ; for his delive¬
ry, though distinct, serious, and impressive, was not re¬
markably distinguished by that magic charm of voice
and action which captivates the senses and imagination,
and which in the estimation of superficial hearers, con¬
stitutes the chief merit of a preacher.
In that department of his professional duty which re¬
garded the government of the church, Dr Blair was
steadily attached to the cause of moderation. From
diffidence, and perhaps from a certain degree of inap¬
titude for extemporary speaking, he took a less public
part in the contests of ecclesiastical politics than some
of his cotemporaries j and, from the same causes, he
never would consent to become moderator of the gene¬
ral assembly of the church of Scotland. But his in¬
fluence among his brethren was extensive : his opinion,
guided by that sound uprightness of judgment which
formed the predominant feature of his intellectual cha¬
racter, had been always held in high respect by the
friends with whom he acted, and for many of the last
years of his life it was received by them almost as a
law. The great leading principle in which they cor¬
dially concurred with him, and which directed all their
measures, was to preserve the church on the one side
from a slavish corrupted dependence on the civil power,
and on the other from a greater infusion of democra-
tical influence than is compatible with good order, and
the established constitution of the country.
The reputation which he acquired in the discharge
of his public duties was well sustained by the great re¬
spectability of his private character. Deriving from
fami'y associations a strong sense of clerical decorum,
feeling on his heart deep impressions of religious and iqa;r
moral obligation, and guided in his intercourse in the y-
world by the same correct and delicate taste which ap¬
peared in his writings, he was eminently distinguished
through life, by the prudence, purity, and dignified
propriety of his conduct. His mind, by constitution
and culture, was admirably formed for enjoying hap¬
piness :—well balanced in itself by the nice proportion
and adjustment of its faculties, it did not incline him to
any of those eccentricities, either of opinion or of ac¬
tion, which are too often the lot of genius ; free from
all tincture of envy, it delighted cordially in the pro¬
sperity and fame of his companions ; sensible to the
estimation in which he himself was held, it disposed
him to dwell at times on the thought of his success
with a satisfaction which he did not affect to conceal j
inaccessible alike to gloomy and to peevish impressions,
it was always master of its own movements, and ready,
in an uncommon degree, to take an active and pleasing
interest in every thing, whether important or trifling,
that happened to become for the moment the object of
his attention. This habit of mind, tempered with the
most unsupecting simplicity, and united to eminent ta¬
lents and inflexible integrity, while it secured to the
last his own relish of life, was wonderfully calculated
to endear him to his friends, and to render him an in¬
valuable member of any society to which he belonged.
Indeed few men have been more universally respected
by those who knew him, more sincerely esteemed in
the circle of his acquaintance, or more tenderly belov¬
ed by those who enjoyed the blessings of his private and
domestic connection.
In April 1748, he married his cousin Catharine
Bannatine, daughter of the Rev. James Bannatine, one
of the ministers of Edinburgh. By her he had a son'
who died in infancy, and a daughter who lived to her
twenty-first year, the pride of her parents, and adorn¬
ed with all the accomplishments that became her age
and sex. Mrs Blair herself, a woman of great good
sense and spirit, was also taken from him a few years
before his death, after she had shared with the tender-
est aflection in all his fortunes, and contributed near
half a century to his happiness and comfort.
Dr Blair had been naturally of a feeble constitution
of body 5 but as he grew up his constitution acquired
greater firmness and vigour. Though liable to occa¬
sional attacks from some of the sharpest and most pain¬
ful diseases that afflict the human frame, he enjoyed a
general state of good health ; and, through habitual
cheerfulness, temperance, and care, survived the usual
teym of human life. For some years he had felt him¬
self unequal to the fatigue of instructing his very large
congregation from the pulpit; and, under the impres¬
sion which this feeling produced, he has been heard at
times to say, with a sigh, 4 that he was left almost the
last of his cotemporaries.’ Yet he continued to the
end in the regular discharge of all his other official du¬
ties, and particularly in giving advice to the afflicted^
who from different quarters of the kingdom solicited Ins
correspondence. His last summer was devoted to the
preparation of his fifth volume of sermons $ and in the
course of it he exhibited a vigour of understanding and
capacity of exertion equal to that of his best days.
Fie began the winter pleased with himself on ac¬
count of the completion of this work, and his friends
were
B L A [ 651 ] B L A
®ir. were flattered with the hope that he might live to en-
joy the accession of emolument and fame which he ex¬
pected it would bring. But the seeds of a mortal dis¬
ease were lurking unperceived within him. On the
24th of December 1800, he complained of a pain in
his bowels, which, during that and the following day,
gave him but little uneasiness; and he received as usual
the visits of his friends. On the afternoon of the 26th,
the symptoms became violent and alarming : He felt
that he was approaching the end of his appointed
course: and retaining to the last moment the full pos¬
session of his mental faculties, he expired on the morn¬
ing of the 27th, with the composure and hope which
became a Christian pastor.
Blair, John, a Scottish author, was cotemporary
with, and the companion, some say the chaplain, of Sir
William Wallace. He attended that great hero in al¬
most all his exploits: and, after his death, which left
so great a stain on the character of Edward I. of Eng¬
land, he wrote his memoirs in Latin. The injury of
time has destroyed this work, which might have thrown
the greatest light on the history of a very busy and re¬
markable period. An inaccurate fragment of it only has
descended to us, from which little can be learned, and
which was published, with a commentary, by Sir Robert
Sibbald.
Blair, James, an eminent divine, was born and
bred in Scotland, where he had >t length a benefice in
the episcopal church ; but meeting with some discou¬
ragements, he came to England in the latter end of
the reign of King Charles II. and was sent by Dr
Compton as a missionary to Virginia, and was after¬
wards, by the same bishop, made commissary for that
colony, the highest office in the church there. He
distinguished himself by his exemplary conduct and un¬
wearied labours in the work of the ministry ; and find¬
ing that the want of proper seminaries for the advance¬
ment of religion and learning was a great damp upon
all attempts for the propagation of the gospel, he
formed a design of erecting and endowing a college at
Williamsburgh, in Virginia, for professors and stu¬
dents in academical learning. Pie therefore not only
set on foot a voluntary subscription ; but, in 1693,
came to England to solicit the affair at court: when
Queen Mary was so well pleased with the noble design,
that she espoused it with particular zeal; and King Wil¬
liam readily concurring with her majesty, a patent was
passed for erecting and endowing a college by the name
of the William and Mary college, of which Mr Blair
was appointed president, and enjoyed that office near
50 years. He was also rector of Williamsburgh, and
president of the council in that colony. He, wrote,
Our Saviour’s divine Sermon on the Mount explain¬
ed, in several sermons, 4 vols. octavo; and died in
I743*
Blair, John, an eminent chronologist, was edu¬
cated at Edinburgh ; and coming to London was for
some time usher of a school in Hedge-Lane. In 1754,
he presented to the world that valuable publication,
“ The Chronology and History of the World, from
the Creation to the year of Christ 1753. Illustrated
in LVI, Tables; of which four are introductory and
contain the centuries prior to the first Olympiad; and
each of the remaining LII. contains in one expanded
view jo years, or half a century.” This volume,
which is dedicated to Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, was Blair,
published by subscription, on account of the great ex- ULuse.
pence of the plates, for which the author apologized —v~~
in his preface, where he acknowledged great obliga¬
tions to the earl of Bath, and announced some chrono¬
logical dissertations, wherein he proposed to illustrate
the disputed points, to explain the prevailing systems
of chronology, and to establish the authorities upon
which some of the particular eras depend. In January
1755, he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society ;
and in 1761 of the Society of Antiquaries. In 1756
he published a second edition of his “ Chronological
Tables.” In September 1757, he was appointed chap¬
lain to the princess dowager of Wales, and mathema¬
tical tutor to the duke of York; and on Dr Town-
shend’s promotion to the deanery of Norwich, the ser¬
vices of Dr Blair were rewarded, March 10. 1761,
with a prebendal stall at Westminster. The vicarage
of Hinckley happening to fall vacant six days after, by
the death of Dr Morris, Dr Blair was presented to it
by the dean and chapter of Westminster; and in Au¬
gust that year he obtained a dispensation to hold with
it the rectory of Burton Goggles in Lincolnshire. In
September 1763 he attended his royal pupil the duke
of York in a tour to the continent; had the satisfac¬
tion of visiting Lisbon, Gibraltar, Minorca, most of
the principal cities in Italy, and several parts of France,
and returned with the duke in August 1764. In
1768 he published an improved edition of his “ Chro¬
nological Tables,” which he dedicated to the princess
of Wales, who had expressed her early approbation of
the former edition. To the new edition were annexed,
“ Fourteen Maps of Ancient and Modern Geography,
for illustrating the Tables of Chronology and History*
To which is preBxed a Dissertation on the Progress of
Geography.” In March 1771, he was presented by
the dean and chapter of Westminster to the vicarage of
St Bride’s in the city of London ; which made it ne¬
cessary for him to resign Hinckley, where he had ne¬
ver resided for any length of time. On the death of
Mr Sims, in April 1776, he resigned St Bride’s, and
was presented to the rectory of St John the Evangelist
in Westminster ; and in June that year obtained a dis¬
pensation to hold the rectory of St John with that of
Horton, near Colebrooke Bucks. His brother Cap¬
tain Blair falling gloriously in the service of his coun¬
try in the memorable sea-fight of April 12. 1782, the
shock accelerated the Doctor’s death. He had at the
same time the influenza in a severe degree, which put
a period to his life, June 24. 1782. His libraiy was
sold by auction December Ii-I3th, 1782 ; and a course
of his “ Lectures on the Canons of the Old Testa¬
ment” hath since been advertised as intended for pub¬
lication by his widow.
Blair of Athol, a castle belonging to the duke of
Athol, seated in a district of the same name, in Perth¬
shire in Scotland. W. Long. 3. 30. N. Lat. 36. 46.
This castle was besieged by the Highland army in 1746;
and bravely defended by Sir Andrew Agnew, who was
reduced to eat horse’s flesh, until he was relieved by the
Hessians under the earl of Crawford.
BLAISE, a military order instituted by the kings
of Armenia, in honour of St Blaise, anciently bishop
of Sebasta in that country, the patron saint of that
nation.
4N 3
J ustinian
B L A [ 652 ] B L A
Justinian calls them knights of St Blaise and St Ma¬
ry, and places them not only in Armenia, but in Pa¬
lestine. They made a particular vow to defend the
religion of the church of Rome, and followed the rule
of St Basil. The precise year of the institution of the
knights of St Blaise is not known } but they appear to
have commenced about the same time with the knights
Templars and Hospitallers j to the former of which
they bore a near affinity, the regulars being the same in
both.
BLAISOIS, a late province of France, bounded on
the north by Beauce, on the east hy the Orleannois, on
the south by Berry, and on the west by Touraine. It
now forms the department of Loire and Cher. Blois is
the capital town.
BLAKE, Robert, a famous English admiral, born
August 15S9 at Bridgewater in Somersetshire, where he
was educated at the grammar-school. He went from
thence to Oxford in 1615, where he was entered at St
Alban’s Hall. From thence he removed to Wadham
college j and on the 10th of February 1617, he took
the degree of bachelor of arts. In 1623, he wrote a
copy of verses on the death of Mr Camden, and soon
after left the university. He was tinctured pretty early
with republican principles, and disliking that severity
with which Hr Laud, then bishop of Bath and Wells,
pressed uniformity in his diocese, he began to fall into
the puritanical opinions. His natural bluntness causing
his principles to be well known, the puritan party re¬
turned him member for Bridgewater in 1640 and he
served in the parliament army with great courage du¬
ring the civil war : but when the king was brought to
trial, he highly disapproved the measure as illegal, and
was frequently heard to say, he would as freely venture
Jus life to save the king, as ever he did to serve the par¬
liament. But this is thought to have been chiefly owing
to the humanity of his temper, since after the death
of the king he fell in wholly with the republican party,
and, next to Cromwell, was the ablest officer the par¬
liament had.
In 1648-9, he was appointed, in conjunction with Co¬
lonel Dean and Colonel Popham, to command the fleet ;
and soon after blocked up Prince Maurice and Prince
Rupert in Kinsale harbour. But these getting out,
Blake followed them from port to port : and at last at¬
tacked them in that of Malaga, burnt and destroyed
their whole fleet, two ships only excepted, the Refor¬
mation in which Prince Rupert himself was, and the
Swallow commanded by his brother Prince Maurice.
In 1652, he was constituted sole admiral j when he de¬
feated the Dutch fleet commanded by Van Tromp,
Ruyter, and de Wit, in three several engagements, in
which the Dutch lost n men of war, 30 merchant ships,
and according to their own accounts, had 1500 men
slain. Soon after Blake and his colleagues, with a
grand fleet of iqo sail, stood over to the Dutch coast',
and forced their fleet to fly for shelter into the Texel,
where they were kept for some time by Monk and Dean,
while Blake sailed northward. At last, however,
Tromp got out, and drew together a fleet of I 20 men
of war ; and on the 3d of June, the generals Dean and
Monk came to an engagement with the enemy off the
North Foreland with indifferent success: but the next
day Blake coming to their assistance with 18 ships,
gained a complete victory j so that if the Dutch had
3
not saved themselves on Calais sands, their whole fleet
had been sunk or taken.
In April 1653, Cromwell turned out the parliament,
and shortly after assumed the supreme power. The
states hoped great advantages from this, but were dis¬
appointed. Blake said on this occasion to his officers,
“ It is not for us to mind state affairs, but to keep
foreigners from fooling us.”—In November 1654 Crom¬
well sent him with a strong fleet into the Mediterra¬
nean, with orders to support the honour of the English
flag, and to procure satisfaction for the injuries that
might have been done to our merchants. In the begin¬
ning of December, Blake came into the road of Cadiz,
where he was treated with all imaginable respect j a
Dutch admiral would not hoist his flag while he was
there ; and his name was now grown so formidable,
that a French squadron having stopped one of his ten¬
ders, which had been separated from Blake in a storm,
the admiral, as soon as he knew to whom it belonged,
sent for the captain on board, and drank Blake’s health
before him with great ceremony, under a discharge of
five guns, and then dismissed him. The Algerines were
so much afraid of him, that, stopping the Sallee rovers,
they obliged them to deliver up what English prisoners
they had on board, and then sent them freely to Blake,
in order to purchase his favour. This, however, did
not prevent his coming on the 10th of March before
Algiers, and sending an officer on shore to the dey to
demand satisfaction for the piracies committed on the
English, and the release of all the English captives.
The dey, in his answer, alleged, that the ships and cap¬
tives belonged to private men, and therefore he could
not restore them without offending all his subjects, but
that he might easily redeem them : and if he thought
good, they would conclude a peace with him, and for
the future offer no acts of hostility to the English : and
having accompanied this answer with a large present of
fresh provisions, Blake left Algiers, and sailed on the
same errand to Tunis j the dey of which place not on¬
ly refused to comply with his request, but denied him
the liberty of taking in fresh water. “ Here (said he),
are our castles of Goletto and Porto Ferino ; do your
worst.” Blake, at hearing this, began, as his custom
was when highly provoked, to curl his whiskers; and
after a short consultation with his officers, bore into the
bay of Porto Ferino with his great ships and their se¬
conds ; and coming within musket-shot of the castle
and the line, fired on both so warmly, that in twm hours
time the castle was rendered defenceless, and the guns
on the works along the shore were dismounted, though
60 of them played at a time on the English. Blake
found nine ships in the road, and ordered every captain
to man his long boat with choice men, to enter the
harbour and fire the Tuniseens j which they happily ef¬
fected, with the loss of 25 men killed and 48 wounded,
while he and his men covered them from the castle by
playing continually on them w’ith their great guns.
This daring action spread the terror of his name through
Africa and Asia. From Tunis he sailed to Tripoli,
caused the English slaves to be set at liberty, and con¬
cluded a peace with that government. Thence return¬
ing to Tunis, the Tuniseens implored his mercy, and
begged him to grant them peace, which he did upon
terms highly advantageous to England. He next sailed
to Malta, and obliged the knights to restore the effects
0 taken
B L A [ 653 ] B L A
taken by their privateers from the English $ and by
these great exploits so raised the glory of the English
name, that most of the princes and states in Italy
thought fit to pay their compliments to the Px-otector,
by sending solemn embassies to him.
He passed the next winter either in lying before Ca¬
diz, or in cruizing up and down the Straits : and was
at his old station, at the mouth of that harbour, when
he received information that the Spanish plate fleet had
put into the bay of Sancta Cruz, in the island of Te-
neriffe : upon this he weighed anchor, with 25 men of
war, on the 13th of April 1657 •, and on the 20th x-ode
with his ships off the bay of Sancta Cruz, where he
saw 16 Spanish ships lying in the form of a half-moon.
Near the mouth of the haven stood a castle furnished
with great ordnance j besides which there were seven
forts round the bay, with six, four, and three guns on
each, joined to each other by a line of communication
manned with musketeers. To make all safe, Don
Diego Diagues, general of the Spanish fleet, caused all
the smaller ships to be moored close along the shore j
and the six large galleons stood farther out at anchor,
with their broadsides towards the sea. Blake having
prepared for the fight, a squadron of ships was drawn
out to make the first onset, commanded by Captain
Stayner in the Speaker frigate ; who no sooner receiv¬
ed oi'ders, than he sailed into the bay, and fell upon the
Spanish fleet, without the least regard to the forts
which spent their shot prodigally upon them. No
sooner were these entered into the bay, but Blake, fol¬
lowing after, placed several ships to pour broadsides in¬
to the castle and forts j and these played their parts so
well, that, after some time, the Spaniards found their
forts too hot to be held. In the mean time, Blake
struck in with Stayner, and bravely fought the Spa¬
nish ships, out of which the enemy were beaten by two
o’clock in the afternoon y when Blake, finding it im¬
possible to carry them away, ordered his men to set them
on fire j which was done so effectually, that they were
all reduced to ashes, except two, which sunk downright,
nothing remaining above the water but part of the
masts. The English having now obtained a complete
victory, were reduced to another difficulty by the wind,
which blew so strong into the bay, that they despair¬
ed of getting out. They lay under the fire of the cas¬
tles and of all the forts, which must in a little time have
torn them to pieces. But the wind suddenly shifting,
carried them out of the bay 5 where they left the Spa¬
niards in astonishment at the happv temerity of their
audacious victors. This is allowed to have been one
of the most remarkable actions that ever happened at
eea. “ It was so miraculous (says the eaxl of Claren¬
don), that all men who knew the place wondered that
any sober man, with what courage soever endowed,
would ever have undertaken it *, and they could
hardly persuade themselves to believe what they had
done j whilst the Spaniards comforted themselves with
the belief, that they were devils and not men who had
destroyed them in such a manner.” This was the last
and greatest action of the gallant Blake. He was con¬
sumed with a dropsy and scurvy 5 and hastened home,
that he might yield up his last breath in his native
country, which he bad so much adorned by his valour.
As he came within sight of land, he expii’ed.—Never
man, so zealous for a faction, was so much respected
and esteemed by the opposite factions. Disinterested, Blake
generous, liberal ; ambitious only of true glory, dread- 1)
ful only to his avowed enemies 5 he forms one of the , ^•anc‘
most perfect characters of that age, and the least stain¬
ed with those errors and violences which were then so
predominant. The Protector ordered him a pompous
funeral at the public charge : but the tears of his coun¬
trymen were the most honoui’able panegyric on his
memory. The lord Clarendon observes, “ that he was
the first man who brought ships to contemn castles on
shore, which had ever been thought very formidable,
and were discovered by him to make a noise only, and
to fright those who could be rarely hurt by them. He
was the first that infused that degree of courage into
seamen, by making them see by experience what mighty
things they could do if they were resolved j and the
first that taught them to fight in fire as well as in
water.”
BLAMONT, a town of France, in the department
of Meurthe, seated on a little river called Vesoirze, 12
miles south of Luneville, and containing i860 inhabi¬
tants in 1815. E. Long. 6. 51. N. Lat. 48. 35.
BLANC. See Blank.
Blanc, a town of Fi’ance, in tbe department of
Indre, seated on the river Creuse, by which it is divid¬
ed into two parts. The land about it is barren, and
full of trees, heath, and lakes. Population 3850 in
1815. E. Long. 1. 13. N. Lat. 46. 38.
Mont Blanc, a stupendous mountain in Savoy, the
highest of the Alps, and encompassed by those wonder¬
ful collections of snow and ice called the Glaciers. See
Alps.
Of these glaciers there are five, which extend al¬
most to the plain of the vale of Chamouni, and are se¬
parated by wild forests, corn fields, and rich meadows j
so that immense tracts of ice are blended with the high¬
est cultivation, and perpetually succeed to each other
in the most singular and striking vicissitude. All these
several valleys of ice, which lie chiefly in the hollows
of the mountains, and are some leagues in length,
unite together at the foot of Mont Blanc ; the high¬
est mountain in Europe, and probably of the ancient
world.
The summit of this mountain was deemed inaccessible
before Dr Paccard, a physician at Chamouni, attempt¬
ed to reach it in August 1786, and succeeded in the
attempt. Soon after, the same undertaking was ac¬
complished by M. de Saussure, who has published a
narrative of the journey. He arrived at Chamouni,
situated at the foot of the mountain, in the begin¬
ning of July 1787 \ but bad weather prevented him
from ascending until the first of August, when he be¬
gan his expedition, accompanied by a servant and
eighteen guides, who carried his philosophical and
other apparatus. His son was left at the Priory in
Chamouni, and was employed in making meteorologi¬
cal observations, with which those made on the top of
the mountain might be compared. Although it is
scarcely six miles and three quarters in a straight line
from the priory of Chamouni to the top of Mont Blanc,
it requires nevertheless 18 hours to gain the summit,
owing to the bad roads, the windings, and the great
perpendicular height of the mountain. That he might
be perfectly at liberty to pass the night on what part
of the mountain he pleased, he carried a tent with him 5
and
B L A
and he and his company slept in it the first night on
that eminence which is first met with, and which is on
the south of the priory, and about a mile perpendicu¬
larly above the village.
Hitherto the journey was free from danger, or even
difficulty j the road being either rocky or covered with
grass ; but thence upwards it was either wholly co¬
vered with snow, or consisted of the most slippery ice.
But the second day’s journey was attended with many
difficulties. The ice valley on the side of the hill must
be passed, in order to gain the foot of that chain of
rocks bordering on the perpetual snows which cover
Mont Blanc. The passage through this valley is ex¬
tremely dangerous, since it is intersected with nume¬
rous wide, deep, and irregular chasms, which can only
be crossed by means of bridges naturally formed of
snow, and these often very slender, extended as it were
over an abyss. One of the guides had almost perished
here the evening before, as he with two others went to
reconnoitre the road. They had the precaution to tie
themselves together with a long rope, and he in the
middle had the misfortune to have the snow-bridge, over
the wide and deep chasm, break under him, so that he
remained suspended between his two comrades. M. de
Saussure and his retinue passed very near the opening
through which this man had fallen, and shuddered at
the danger in which the poor fellow had been involved.
1 he difficulties they had to encounter in this valley, and
the winding road they were obliged to take through it,
occasioned their being three hours in crossing it, al¬
though in a straight line its breadth is not above three
quarters of a mile.
After having reached the rocks, they mounted in a
serpentine direction to a valley filled with snow, which
runs from north to south to the foot of the highest pin¬
nacle. The surface of the snow in this valley has nu¬
merous fissures, which penetrate so deep that their bot¬
tom is nowhere to be seen, although they are of consi¬
derable breadth. The sides of these fissures, where the
snow is broken perpendicularly, afford an opportunity of
observing the successive horizontal layers of snow which
are annually formed.
The guides were desirous of passing the night near
one of the rocks on the side of this valley ; but as the
loftiest of them is at least 1400 yards perpendicularly
lower than the summit of the mountain, M. de Saussure
was desirous of ascending higher j in consequence of
winch it would be necessary to encamp on the snow :
but he found it difficult to convince his companions of
the practicability of the plan. They imagined that
during the night an intolerable cold prevailed in
those heights which were eternally covered with snow,
and they were seriously afraid of perishing. By proper
encouragements, however, he induced them to proceed j
and at four in the afternoon they arrived at the second
of the three plains of snow which they had to pass.
Here they encamped at the height of 3100 yards above
the priory of Chamouni, and 4250 yards above the le¬
vel of the sea, which is about 200 yards higher than
the peak of Teneriffe. They did not proceed to the
last plain, on account of the day having been far ad¬
vanced $ and they were also apprehensive of exposing
themselves to the avalanches which are frequently
tumbling from the 'summit of the mountain. They
dug a deep hole in the snow, sufficiently wide to con-
[ 654 ] B L A
company, and covered its top with the
tain the whole
tent-cloth.
In making this encampment, they began to expe¬
rience the effects of the rarity of the atmosphere. Bo-
bust men, to whom seven or eight hours walking or
rather climbing were an absolute nothing, had scarcely
raised five or six shovels lull of snow, before they were
under the necessity of resting and relieving each other
almost incessantly. One oi them, who had gone back
a small distance to fill a cask with some water which he
bad seen in one of the crevices of the snow, found him¬
self so much disordered in bis way, that he returned
without the water, and passed the night in great pain.
M. de Saussure, who is so much accustomed to the air
of mountains as to say, “ That in general I feel my¬
self better in such air than in that of the plains,
was exhausted with the fatigue of making bis meteo¬
rological observations. The principal inconvenience
which the thinness of the air produces, is an excessive
thirst. Ibey had no means of procuring water but by
melting the snow 5 and the little stove which they had
carried with them, afforded but a feeble supply for
twenty men.
This region of the mountain presents to the view no¬
thing but snow of the purest and most dazzling white¬
ness, forming a very singular contrast with the sky,
which appears remarkably black.
“ No living creature (says M. de Saussure) is to be
seen in these desolate regions, nor is the least trace of
vegetation to be discovered. It is the habitation of
cold and silence ! When I reflected that Dr Paccard,
and his guide Jacques Balmat, who first visited these
deserts, arrived here at the decline of the day, without
shelter, without assistance, and wholly ignorant where
or how they were to pass the night, without even the
certainty that it was possible for men to exist in the
places they had undertaken to visit; and yet that they
were able to pursue their journey with unremitted in¬
trepidity, I could not but admire their strength and
courage. My guides were so firmly prepossessed with
the fear of cold, that they shut up every aperture of the
tent with the utmost exactness j so that I suffered very
considerably from the heat and the vitiated air, which
had become highly noxious from the breaths of so many
people in a small room. I was frequently obliged, in
the course of the night, to go out of the tent, in order
to relieve my breathing. The moon shone with the
brightest splendour, in the midst of a sky as black as
ebony. Jupiter, rayed like the sun, arose from behind
the mountain in the east. The light of these lumina¬
ries was reflected from the white plain or rather bason
in which we were situated $ and dazzling eclipsed every
star except those of the first and second magnitude. At
length we composed ourselves to sleep. We were, how¬
ever, soon awakened by the noise of an immense mass
of snow {avalanche') which had fallen down from the
top of the mountain, and covered part of the slope over
which we were to climb the next day.”
As they were obliged to melt a great quantity of
snow, and prepare many necessaries for their farther
progress in their journey, it was late the next morning
before they took their departure.
“ We began our ascent (continues M. de Saussure)
to the third and last plain, and then turned to the left,
in our way to the highest rock, which is on the east
part
B L A [ 655 ] B L A
jl0l part of the summit. The ascent is here very steep,
Elan, being about 39 degrees inclined to the horizon, and
bounded on each side by precipices. The surface of
the snow was so hard and slippery, that our pioneers
were obliged to hew out their footsteps with hatchets.
Thus we were two hours in climbing a hill of about
530 yards high. Having arrived at this last rock, we
turned to the westward, and climbed the last ascent,
whose height is about 300 yards, and its inclination
about 28 or 29 degrees. On this peak the atmosphere
is so rare, that a man’s strength is exhausted with the
least fatigue. When we came near the top, I could
not walk fifteen or sixteen steps without stopping to
take breath ; and I frequently perceived myself so faint,
that I was under the necessity of sitting down from
time to time j and in proportion as I recovered my
breath, I felt my strength renewed. All my guides
experienced similar sensations, in proportion to their
respective constitutions. W^e arrived at the summit of
Mont Blanc at 11 o’clock in the forenoon.
“ I now enjoyed the grand spectacle which was
under my eyes. A thin vapour, suspended in the in¬
ferior regions of the air, deprived me of the distinct
view of the lowest and most remote objects, such as the
plains of I ranee and Lombardy 5 but I did not so much
regret this loss, since I saw, with remarkable clearness,
what I principally wished to see, viz. the assemblage
of those high ridges, with the true form and situations
of which I had long been desirous of becoming tho¬
roughly acquainted. I could scarcely believe my eyes.
^ I thought myself in a dream when I saw below my feet
so many majestic peaks, especially the Needles, the Mi¬
di-Argent iere, and Geant, whose bases had proved so
difficult and dangerous of access. I obtained a perfect
knowledge of their proportion to, and connexion with,
each other $ of their form and structure : and a single
view removed more doubts, and afforded more informa¬
tion, than whole years of study.
“ While I was thus employed, my guides pitched
my tent, and were fixing the apparatus for the experi¬
ments I had proposed to make on boiling water j but
when I came to dispose my instruments for that pur¬
pose, I was obliged, almost at every instant, to desist
from my labours, and turn all my thoughts to the
means of respiration. When it is considered that the
mercury in the barometer was no higher than 16 inches
and a line (17.145 inches English), and that this air had
consequently little more than half the density of that on
the plains, the breathing must necessarily be increased,
in order to cause, in a given time, the passage of a suffi¬
cient quantity of air through the lungs. The frequen¬
cy of respiration increased the circulation of the blood,
more especially as the arteries on the surface of the
body had not the pressure they were usually accustomed
to. We were all in a feverish state, as will be seen in
the sequel.
“ While I remained perfectly still, I experienced
but little uneasiness more than a slight oppression about
my heart; but, on the smallest bodily exertion, or when
I fixed my attention on any object for some moments
together, and particularly when I pressed my chest in
the act of stooping, I was obliged to rest and pant for
two or three minutes. My guides were in a similar
condition. We had no appetite ; and our provisions,
which were all frozen, were not well calculated to ex-
1
cite it: nor had we any inclination for wine or brandy, Mont
which increased our indisposition, most probably by Blanc,
accelerating the circulation of the blood. Nothing
but fresh waster relieved us ; and much time and trouble
were necessary to procure this article, as we could have
no other than melted snow. I remained on the sum¬
mit till half past three 5 and though I did not lose a
single moment, I was not able to make all these experi¬
ments in four hours and a half, which I have frequently
done in less than three on the sea-side. However, I
made with great exactness those which were most es¬
sential.
“ We returned much easier than I could have ex¬
pected ; since, in descending, we did not experience
any bad effects from the compression of the thorax j
our respiration was not impeded, and we were not un¬
der the necessity of resting, in order to recover our
breath and strength. The road down to the first plain
was nevertheless by no means agreeable, on account of
the great declivity $ and the sun, shining so bright on
the tops of the precipices below us, made so dazzling
an appearance, that it required a good head to avoid
growing giddy from the prospect. We pitched our
tent again on the snow, though we were more than
400 yards below our last night’s encampment. I was
here convinced that it was the rarity of the air, and not
the fatigue of the journey, that had incommoded us on
the summit of the mountain, otherwise we should not
have found ourselves so well, and so able to attack our
supper with a good appetite. I could now also make
my meteorological observations without any inconveni¬
ence. I am persuaded that the indisposition in conse¬
quence of the rarity of the atmosphere is different in
different people. For my own part I felt no incon¬
venience at the height of 4000 yards, or nearly two
miles and a quarter; but I began to be much affected
when I was higher in the atmosphere.
“ The next day we found that the ice valley which
wre had passed on our first day’s journey had undergone
a considerable change from the heat of the two pre¬
ceding days, and that it was much more difficult to
pass than it had been in our ascent. We were obliged
to go down a declivity of snow of no less than 50 de¬
grees of inclination, in order to avoid a chasm which
had happened during our expedition. We at length
got down as low as the first eminence on the side about
half after nine, and were perfectly happy to find our¬
selves on a foundation which we were sure would not
give way under our feet.”
From the narrative, we learn, that the summit of the-
mountain is a ridge nearly horizontal, lying east and
west: the slope at each extremity is inclined from 28
to 30 degrees, the south side between 15 and 20, and
the north about 45 or 50. This ridge is so narrow as
scarcely to allow two people to walk abreast, especially
at the west end, where it resembles the roof of a house*
It is wholly covered with snow ; nor is any bare rock
to be seen within 150 yards of the top. The surface
of the snow is scaly, and in some places covered with
an icy crust, under which the snow is dusty, and with¬
out inconsistence. The highest rocks are all granites ;
those on the east side are mixed with steatites ; those
on the south and the west contain a large quantity of
schoerl, and a little lapis corneus. Some of them, espe¬
cially those on the east, which are about 150 yards be¬
low
B L A [ 656 ] B L A
Mont low the summit, seem to have been lately shivered with
Blanc lightning.
BlalL’' ^aussure saw no animals on the mountain, ex-
Ferme. ^wo butterflies, which he supposes must have been
—y—/ driven thither by the wind. Lichens are the only ve¬
getables which are found on the more elevated parts
of these mountains j the ssilene acaulis, which grows
in great quantities on the lower parts, disappears at
the height of about two miles above the level of the
sea.
M. de Saussure has given us the height of the baro¬
meter on the top of Mont Blanc, August 3. at noon,
16 inches, o lines, and of a line, French measure
(i. e. 16.181 English) j and Reaumur’s thermometer
was 2.3 below the freezing point. M. Sennebier,
at the same time, observed at Geneva the barometer
(29.020 inches English) j and the thermo¬
meter 22.6 above freezing. From these data he makes
the height of Mont Blanc 2218 toises, or 14180 Eng¬
lish feet (about 2^ miles), according to M. de Luc’s
rule ; and 2272 toises, or 14525 English feet, accord¬
ing to M. Trembley’s. To these heights 13 toises, or
83 feet, the height of M. Sennebier’s room above the
lake of Geneva must be added, to give the height of
the mountain above the level of the lake, 14263 feet
according to M. de Luc, and 14608 feet according to
M. Trembley. Sir George Shuckburgh made the height
of Mont Blanc, by trigonometrical measurement, 14429
feet above the lake, which is almost the mean between
the other two. The result of the observations made at
Chamouni, contemporary with those on Mont Blanc,
agrees still nearer with Sir George’s measurement. The
general mean result makes the summit of Mont Blanc
245® toises, 14973 English feet, or three miles nearly,
above the level of the sea.
M. de Saussure found by his electrometer, that the
electricity of the air on the summit of the mountain
was positive. Water boiled at 68.993 degrees of a
thermometer, which rises to 80 with the barometer 27
French inches high. The wind was north, and ex¬
tremely piercing on the summit $ but, southward of the
ridge, the temperature of the air was agreeable. The
experiments with lime-water, and with the caustic alkali,
show that the air was mixed with carbonic acid or fixed
air. See Atmosphere.
BiLANC-Matiger, Fr. q. d. white food, is a prepara¬
tion of dissolved isinglass, milk, sugar, cinnamon, &c.
boiled into a thick consistence, and garnished for the
table with blanched almonds. It is cooling and strength¬
ening.
BLANCARDS, a name given to certain linen-
cloths, thus called, because the thread used to weave
them has been half blanched or bleached before it was
used. They are manufactured in Normandy, particu¬
larly in the places which are in the district or under the
jurisdiction of Pont-Audemer, Bernay, and Lisieux.
BLANCH-FERME, or Blank farm> a white farm,
that is, where the rent was to be paid in silver, not in
cattle. In ancient times, the crown rents were many
times reserved to be paid in libris albis, called blanch
firmes: in which case the buyer was holden dealbare
Jirmam, viz. his base money or coin, worse than stand¬
ard, was melted down in the exchequer, and reduced
to the fineness of standard silver $ or instead thereof he
paid to the king 12d. in the pound by way of addi- B]an . (
tion. jC
BljNCH-Holding, in Law, a tenure by which the S ike
vassal is only bound to pay an elusory yearly duty to Peking. >“
his superior merely as an acknowledgment of his right. " r',*J
See Law.
BLANCHARD, James, an excellent painter, was
born at Paris, and learnt the rudiments of his profession
under Nicholas Bolleri his uncle; but left him at 20
years of age, and travelled into Italy. He staid two
years at Rome, and from thence went to Venice, where
he was so charmed with the works of Titian, Tintoret,
and Paul Veronese, that he resolved to follow their man¬
ner $ and in this he succeeded so far, that at his return
to Paris he soon became generally esteemed for the no¬
velty, beauty, and force of his pencil. He painted two
galleries at Paris, one belonging to Perault, the first
president, and the other to Bullion, superintendant of
the finances j but his capital piece is a picture of the
descent of the Holy Ghost, in the church of Notre
Dame. He was seized in the flower of his age, with
a fever and imposthume in the lungs, of which he died
in 1683. Of all the French painters Blanchard was
esteemed the best colourist, he having carefully studied
this part of painting in the Venetian school.
Carte-BLANCHE. See Carte.
BLANCHING, the art or manner of making any
thing white. See Bleaching.
Blanching of Iron Plates, is performed with aqua¬
fortis and tin.
Blanching of Woollen Stuffs, is done with soap,
chalk, or sulphur. See Bleaching Index.
Blanching of Silk, is performed with soap and brim¬
stone.
Blanching of Wax, is by exposing it to the sun and
dew. See Bleaching Index.
Blanching, in coinage, the operation performed on
the planchets, or pieces of silver, to give them the re¬
quisite lustre and brightness. They also blanch piece*
of plate, when they would have them continue white,
or have only some parts of them burnished.—Blanch¬
ing, as is now practised, is performed by heating the
pieces on a kind of peel with a wood fire, in the man¬
ner of a reverberatory j so that the flame passes&over
the peel. The pieces being sufficiently heated and
cooled again, are put successively to boil in two pans,
which are of copper: in these they put water, common
salt, and tartar of Montpelier. When they have been
well drained of this water in a copper sieve, they throw
sand and fresh water over them $ and when dry, they
are well rubbed with towels.
Blanching, among gardeners, an operation whereby
certain salads, roots, &c. are rendered whiter than they
would otherwise be.—It is thus: After pruning off the
tops and roots of the plants to be blanched, they plant
them in trenches about ten inches wide, and as many
deep, more or less as is judged necessary j as they grow
up, care is taken to cover them with earth, within four
or five inches of their tops : this is repeated from time
to time, for five or six weeks j in which time they will
be fit for use, and of a whitish colour where covered by
the earth.
Blanching also denotes the operation of covering
iron plates with a thin coat or crust of tin. See Latter.
BLANCO,
B L A [ 657 ] B L A
gjdco BLANCO, a cape or promontory of Africa, in the
Atlantic ocean. W. Long. 18. 30. N. Lat. 20. O.
Blaset. Blanco, a promontory of Peru in South America, in
~ ■ " the South sea. W. Long. 81. 10. N. Lat. 11. 50.
BLAND A, in Ancient Geography, a Roman city in
the territory of Barcino in Hispania Citerior : Now
Blanes, a sea-port town of Catalonia, situated near the
river Tordara. E. Long. 3. 40. N. Lat. 41. 30.
BLANDFORD, a town of Dorsetshire in England.
It is pleasantly situated on the river Store near the
Downs, but has been subject to several dreadful fires,
particularly in 1731, when almost the whole town was
burnt down $ but it has since been rebuilt finer than be-
Ifore. It has the title of a marquisate, and contained
2425 inhabitants in 1811. W. Long. 2. 15. N. Lat. 50.
5°-
BLANDONONA, in Ancient Geography, a small
city of Liguria in Italy : Now Bron or Broni. See that
article
BLANES. See Blanda.
BLANK, or Blanc, in a general sense, signifies
white j and Blancus, or Blanca, is more particularly
used for a kind of white or silver money, of base al¬
loy, coined by Henry V. in those parts of France then
subject to England, valued at 8d. sterling. They were
forbidden by his successor to be current in this realm.
In some ancient charters they are called solidi bland,
white shillings.
Blank also denotes a small copper coin, formerly
current in France, at the rate of five deniers Tournois.
L They had also great blanks, or pieces of three blanks,
and others of six, in respect whereof the single sort were
called little blanks: but of late they are all become
only moneys of account.
Blank, or BtANK-Ticket, in lotteries, that to which
no prize is allotted. The French have a game, under
the denomination blanque, answering to our lottery.
Blank, in coinage, a plate, or piece of gold or sil¬
ver, cut and shaped for a coin, but not yet stamped.
BiANK-Bar, in Law, is used for the same with what
we call a common bar, and is the name of a plea in bar,
which in an action of trespass is put in to oblige the
plaintiff to assign the certain place where the trespass
was committed.
Blanks, in judicial proceedings, certain void spaces
sometimes left by mistake. A blank (if something ma¬
terial be omitted) in a declaration abates the same : and
such a blank is a good cause of demurrer.
BLANK-Verse, in the modern poetry, that composed
of a certain number of syllables, without the assistance
of rhime. See Poetry, Part iii.
Point Blank. See PoiNT-Blank.
BLANKENBURG, a town of Germany, in the cir¬
cle of Westphalia and duchy of Berg. E. Long. 7. 18.
N. Lat. 50. 54.
Blankenburg, a town of Germany, in the circle
of Lower Saxony, and capital of the county of the same
1 > name, subject to the duke of Brunswic-Wolfenbuttle.
The castle or palace is a modern building, and is the
residence of the princess dowager. E. Long. 11. 20.
N. Lat. 51. 50.
BLANKENHEIM, a small territory of Germany
with the title of a county, which is part of that of Eyffel,
near the archbishopric of Cologn and duchy of Juliers.
BLANKET, in Commerce, a warm woolly sort of
VOL. III. Part II. f
stuff, light and loose woven, chiefly used in bedding. £ianiiei.
The manufacture of blankets is chiefly confined to J|
Witney in Oxfordshire, where it is advanced to that Blanqnillc.
height, that no other place comes near it. Some at-
tribute a great part of the excellency of the Witney
blankets to the abstersive nitrous water of the river
Windrush, wherewith they are scoured j others rather
think they owe it to a peculiar way of loose spinning
which the people have thereabouts. Be this as it will,
the place has engrossed almost the W’hole trade of the
nation for this commodity ; insomuch that the wool
fit for it centres here from the furthermost parts of the
kingdom. Blankets are made of felt-wool, i. e. wool
from off sheep-skins, which they divide into several sorts.
Of the head wool and bay wool they make blankets of
twelve, eleven, and ten quarters broad ; of the ordinary
and middle sort, blankets of eight and seven quarters
broad j of the best tail wool, blankets of six quarters
broad, commonly called cuts, serving for seamen’s ham¬
mocks. See Hykes.
Tossing in a Blanket, a ludicrous kind of punish¬
ment, of which we find mention in the ancients under
the denomination sagatio. Martial describes it geogra¬
phically enough. Ibis ah excusso, missus ad asti'a, sago.
A late writer represents it as one of Otho’s imperial de¬
lights. But this is turning the tables : that emperor’s
diversion, as related by Suetonius, was not to be the
subject, but the agent, in the affair : it being his prac¬
tice to stroll out in dark nights, and where he met
with a helpless or drunken man, to give him the dis¬
cipline of the blanket.
BLANKOF, John Teunisz, a painter of great
abilities, was born at Alkmaar in 1628; and received
his earliest instruction from Arent Tierling: but after¬
wards he was successively the disciple of Peter Scheyen-
burg and Caesar Van Everdingen. When he had spent
some years with these masters, he went to Rome, where
during his continuance in that city, he was studiously
diligent in copying the works of the best masters, and
was admitted into the society of Flemish painters call¬
ed Bentvogels, who gave him the name of Jan Maat
(which in Dutch signifies mate or companion), and by
that name he is most generally known. His subjects
were landscapes, with views of rivers or sea shores, ha¬
vens or ports, which he executed with a light free pen¬
cil ; and in the representation of storms and calms (as
nature was always bis model) he described those sub¬
jects with great truth, exactness, and neatness of
handling. The pictures of this master which are most
commended are the Italian sea ports, with vessels lying
before them. He possessed a lively imagination ; nor
was his hands less expeditious than his thoughts : and
the connoisseurs agreed in opinion, that if he had be¬
stowed more labour on his pictures than he usually did,
or if he had finished them more highly, he would
Certainly have destroyed a great deal of their spirit,
force, and effect. His most capital performance is
a view of the sea shore, with the waves retiring at
ebb tide ; which is described by Houbraken as be¬
ing wonderfully beautiful and natural. He died in
1670.
BLANQU1LLE, in Commerce, a small silver coin
current in the kingdom of Morocco, and all that part
of the coast of Barbary j it is worth about three half¬
pence of our money.
40
BLARE,
B L A [ 658 ] B L A
Blare BLARE, in Commerce, a small copper coin of Bern,
H nearly of the same value with the ratz.
Biaiiphcmy, BLAREGNIES, a town of the Netherlands, in
the province of Hainault, seated in E. Long. 3. 35.
N. Lat. 50. 30. Near this place the English and their
allies under the duke of Marlborough obtained a very
bloody victory over the French in 1709. This is
most commonly called the battle of Malplaquet. See
Malplaquet.
BLASE, bishop of Sebasta in Cappadocia, in the
second and third centuries, suffered death under Dio-
clesian by decapitation, afte$ being whipped and ha¬
ving his flesh torn with iron combs. He is a person
of great note among the vulgar, who in their proces¬
sions relative to the woollen trade, always carry a re¬
presentation of him as the inventor or patron of the
art of wool-combing ; though that art must have been
known long before his time. It is difficult to say
how the invention came to be attributed to him j but
it had probably no better origin than the circumstance
of his being tortured by instruments used in combing
of wool.
BLASIA, Leather-cup. See Botany Index.
BLASPHEMY {blasphemia, or blasphemium), in
middle-age writers, denotes simply the blaming or con¬
demning of a person or thing. The word is Greek,
fiXxrQvput, from fiXxirTw, Icedo. Among the Greeks to
blaspheme was to use words of evil omen, or that por¬
tended something ill, which the ancients were careful to
avoid, substituting in lieu of them other words of softer
and gentler import, sometimes the very reverse of the
proper ones.
Blasphemy is more peculiarly restrained to evil or
reproachful words spoken of the Deity. Augustine says,
Jam vulgo blasphernia non accipitur nisi mala verba de
Deo die ere.
According to Lindwood, blasphemy is an injury of¬
fered to God, by denying that which is due and belong¬
ing to him ; or attributing to him what is not agreeable
to his nature. By the Mosaic law, blasphemy was pu¬
nished with death; Levit. xxiv. ver. 13—16. As also
by the civil law; Novel. 77. In Spain, Naples, France,
and Italy, the pains of death are not now inflicted. In
the empire, neither amputation or death is made the
punishment of this crime.
By the canon law, blasphemy was punished only by
a solemn penance; and by custom either by a pecuniary
or corporal punishment. By the English laws, blasphe¬
mies of God, as denying his being or providence, and all
contumelious reproaches of Jesus Christ, &c. are of¬
fences by the common law, and punishable by fine, im¬
prisonment, and pillory. And, by the statute law, he
that denies one of the persons in the Trinity, or asserts
there are more than one God, or denies Christianity to
be true, for the first offence is rendered incapable of any
office ; for the second, adjudged incapable of suing, be¬
ing executor or guardian, receiving any gift or legacy,
and to be imprisoned for three years.
According to the law of Scotland, the punishment
of blasphemy is death. The first species thereof con¬
sists in railing at or cursing God ; and here the single
act constitutes the crime. The second consists in de¬
nying the existence of the Supreme Being, or any of
the persons of the Trinity ; and therein obstinately
persevering to the last. For reiterated denial does not
fully constitute the crime, because the stat. of CharlesII.
1661, admits of repentance before conviction, as a com¬
plete expiation.
This statute of 1661 is ratified by a statute of King
William, whereby the calling in question the existence
ot God, or of any of the persons of the Trinity, or the
authority of Scripture, or the Divine Providence, is
made penal: For the first offence, imprisonment till
satisfaction given by public repentance in sackcloth ;
for the second, a fine ol a year’s valued rent of the real
estate, and twentieth part of the personal estate ; and
the trial in both these cases is competent to inferior
judges. The trial of the third offence is death, to be
tried only by the justices.
Blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. Divines are not
agreed with respect to the nature of the crime thus de¬
nominated (Mat. chap. xii. ver. 31.), and the grounds
ol the extreme guilt ascribed to it. Dr Tillotson main¬
tains, that it consisted in maliciously attributing the mi¬
raculous operations which Christ performed by the power
of the Holy Ghost to the devil. Dr Whitby refers it to
the dispensation of the Holy Ghost, which commenced
alter our Lord’s resurrection and ascension ; and those
were guilty of the crime who persisted in their unbelief
and blasphemed the Holy Ghost, representing him as
an evil spirit. The crime was unpardonable, because
it implied a wilful opposition to the last and most power¬
ful evidence which God would vouchsafe to mankind,
and preclude the possibility of a recovery to faith and
repentance.
BLAST, flatus, in the military art, a sudden com¬
pression of the air caused by.the discharge of the bullet
out ot a great gun. The blast sometimes throws down
part of the embrasures of the wall.
Blast is also applied in a more general sense to any
forcible stream of wind or air, excited by the mouth,
bellows, or the air.
Blast is also used in agriculture and gardening, for
what is otherwise called a blight.
Blasts or blastings are by some supposed owing to
cold ; by others to the want of a due supply of sap;
by others to ascending fumes of the earth ; by others
to sharp winds and frosts, immediately succeeding
rains. That species called teredines or fire-blasts, is
supposed by Air Hales owing to the solar rays reflected
from or condensed in the clouds, or even collected by
the dense steams in hop-gardens and other places. The
effect of them is to wither, shrivel, scorch, turn black,
and as it were burn up the leaves, blossoms, and fruits
of trees, shrubs, herbs, grass, corn, even for whole tracts
of ground.
Physicians also speak of a kind of blasts affecting
human bodies, and causing erysipelas, palsies, &c.
Blasts, among miners. See Damps.
BLASTED, something struck with a blast. Among
the Romans, places blasted with lightning were to he
consecrated to Jupiter, under the name of bidentalia and
putealia. It was also a ceremonial of religion to burn
blasted bodies in the fire.
BLASTING, among miners, a term for the tear¬
ing up rocks, which they find in their way, by gun¬
powder. The method of doing which is this : they
make a long hole like the hollow of a large gun-barrel
in the rock they would split; this they fill with gun¬
powder ; they then firmly stop up the mouth of the
Blasphemy
B L A [ ^59 ] B L E
Bitttng with clay, except a touch-hole, at which they leave
a match to fire it. A small quantity of powder suffi-
Bhre. ces. See Blasting, Supplement.
” " * BLATOBULGIUM, in Ancient Geography, (An-
tonine) ; a place of the Brigantines in Britain, having
a camp of exploratores or scouts near Solway frith and
promontory ; now called Bulness, (Camden).
BLATTA, or Cockroach. See Entomology
Index.
BLATTARIiE, (from Blatta, a moth or little
worm), the title of Scopoli’s 12th natural class, in his
I lora Carniolica. It is taken from the Blattaria, which
was Tournefort’s generic name for the verbascum of
| Linnaeus. See Verbascum.
BLAUBEUREN, a town of Germany, in the cir¬
cle of Suabia, and kingdom of Wirtemberg. E. Long.
9. 57. N. Lat. 48. 22.
BLAVET, a sea-port town of Brittany in France,
situated at the mouth of a river of the same name. It
is one of the stations of the navy of France, and is
sometimes called Fort Lewis. W. Long. 3. 5. N. Lat.
47. 40.
BLAVIA, or Blavium, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Aquitain, on the bank of the Garonne, below its
confluence with the Dordogne: Now Blaye ; which see.
BLAYE, an ancient and strong town of France, in
the department of Gironde. It is situated on the river Blaye
Gironde, has a harbour much frequented by foreigners, |)
and the ships which sail to Bourdeaux are obliged to Blea.
leave their guns here. The river is 3800 yards broad
at Blaye $ for which reason a battery was built upon
an island in 1689, to command the vessels that sail up.
The city is built on a rock, and has a citadel with four
bastions, which is called the Upper Town. The lower
town is separated from the upper by a small river; and
in the lower town the merchants reside with their ma¬
gazines. The neighbourhood produces a great deal of
corn. The town contained 4700 inhabitants in 1815.
W. Long. 1. 23. N. Lat. 45. 6.
BLAZE, a white spot in a horse’s face.
BLAZONING, or Blazonry, in Heraldry, the
decyphering the arms of noble families. The word 0*
riginally signified the blowing or winding of a horn ;
and was introduced into heraldry as a term denoting
the description of things borne in arms, with their pro¬
per significations and intendments, from an ancient
custom the heralds, who were judges, had of winding
a horn at justs and tournaments, when they explained
and recorded the atchievements of knights. See He¬
raldry.
BLEA, in the anatomy of plants, the inner rind or
dry bark. See Plants.
BLEACHING.
s. T)LEACHING, or Blanching, {Blanchiment,
Fr.) originally signifies the art of whitening any
substance by other means than painting ; but it is more
particularly applied to a branch of trade or manufacture
exercised by persons called bleachers, who, by certain
processes of a chemical nature, give to woollen, linen,
and cotton stuffs, &c. the greatest degree of whiteness
'of which they are susceptible.
2. Till lately this art had not occupied any consider¬
able share of attention, except to those who were more
immediately concerned in the practice of it. Its pro¬
cesses were few, and though exceedingly tedious, were
simple and easily understood. The late rapid progress
of chemical science, has however thrown so much light
on the theory of the art, and contributed so materially
to the improvement of its processes, that it is become
a most pleasing field of investigation, and demands a
much more considerable space in a modern encyclopae¬
dia than it has hitherto obtained.
3. We propose, therefore, to treat of bleaching in the
following article more fully, and more in detail, than is
usually done, and to bring, as far as possible, into one
point of view, every thing of importance which has been
lately written on the subject by Berthollet, De Charmes,
Rupp, Kirwan, Higgins, Chaptal, O’Reilly, and other
eminent chemists.
4. The improvements made by these gentlemen have
been so rapid in their succession, and so important in
their consequences, as to have rather created a new art
than ameliorated the old. It will hereafter be scarcely
credible, that in the space of about twenty years, the
whole of an ancient system of bleaching, which had pre¬
vailed from time immemorial, should have been entirely
overturned, and replaced by one of the most scientific
accuracy, and expeditious management.
5. The origin of this art, like that of many others
which are subservient to the comforts or conveniences
of man, is involved in great obscurity. We find that
a desire for rich and brilliant colours, and for garments
of the purest white, has prevailed in civilized society
from the earliest periods of which we have any ac¬
counts. This was more particularly the case in the
eastern countries, as appears from the earliest writers,
both of sacred and profane history. It is, however,
probable, that the art of dyeing was antecedent to that
of bleaching; but the effects of the sun and air in
whitening garments, and in discharging the less per¬
manent colours imprinted by the dyer, which must
have been very observable in those climates, would
soon lead an ingenious people to imitate or increase the
action of the atmosphere, and turn to advantage as a
luxury what in many cases must have been considered
as an inconvenience. Of the methods employed by
the ancients in whitening or scouring their various stuffs
we are almost entirely ignorant; we know, however,
that the Egyptians were accustomed to use some kinds
of clay for these purposes, and that they availed them¬
selves of the bleaching powers of the atmosphere. Pliny
informs us, that a plant to which he gives the name
radicula, was employed for scouring wool *; this is pro- *
bably the same with what we call soapwort. The acrid xi*. c. 3.
juice of some species of euphorbia, especially the pep-
lus, is said to have been used in France for whitening
linen.
4 0 a
6. The
B L E A
Animal 6. The art of bleaching is very extensive, and com-
Suhstances. prebends a variety of objects, whether we consider it as
a distinct branch of trade, or as an art called in to the
assistance or completion of several of our manufactures.
It is essential to the perfection of the linen, the cotton,
the silken, the woollen manufacture it is in many cases
a necessary step in preparing stuffs for the dyer and
. the calico-printer j and to it the paper-maker and the
wax-chandler are indebted for the beauty of their pro¬
ductions. To this art belong the scouring of clothes
and stuffs, the removal of colours, spots, and stains, the
cleaning of books and prints.
7. We shall in the following pages describe the va¬
rious methods employed to answer these several purposes,
C H I N G. ?artI
and shall endeavour to trace the steps by which bleach- Animal
ing has arrived at the high degree of perfection which SuktaTi.
it has lately attained. In detailing the processes of the v" y '■*
artist, we shall, however, avoid as much as possible his
technical language, so as to render this article not only
a useful assistant to the practical bleacher, but an in¬
teresting object to the philosophic chemist.
8. As the methods of bleaching animal and vege¬
table substances are different, we may properly divide
this article into two parts j in the first of which we shall
describe the processes for bleaching wool and silk, and
in the second the methods employed in the bleaching
of linen, cotton, paper, and other materials furnished
by vegetables.
PART I, BLEACHING OF ANIMAL SUBSTANCES.
9. I HE substances which are derived from the ani¬
mal kingdom, and which we more particularly employ
as articles of clothing, differ essentially from those
which are the produce of vegetables. The art of
bleaching depends very much on an exact knowledge
of those peculiar characters, which form the line of
separation between these two classes of bodies, and it
is therefore of importance to him who is desirous not
only to be master of the several processes in this art,
but to understand the theory of the subject, to be ac¬
quainted with the nature and properties of each.
10. I he animals from whose spoils we obtain our
principal clothing are nourished by vegetables, which
as they pass through their organs lose their former pro¬
perties, and acquire others more akin to animal bodies.
In particular they are found to contain a new element,
azote, which is but sparingly found in the vegetable
kingdom, but constitutes one of the most abundant pro¬
ducts of animal bodies. They also contain sulphur and
phosphorus, as appears from the examination of those
pestilential exhalations which always accompany the
decomposition of animal matters.
11. It is found that animal matters are more easily
separated into their component principles than vege¬
table, owing to the weaker degree of their mutual at¬
traction. Hence the action of acids and alkalies is
much more violent on the former than on the latter, and
consequently much more caution is requisite in their
employment.
12. In bleaching animal substances recourse must
be had to the united action of the fixed alkalies, soap,
ammonia or volatile alkali, and sulphurous acid, the
choice, preparation, and uses of which will be present¬
ly described. The animal matters with which the
bleacher is more immediately concerned are wool and
silk.
Chap. I. Of Wool.
13. Wool, like hair, of which it is a variety, is com¬
posed of filaments or tubes filled with a substance of
an oily nature. The surrounding surface of these
tubes is pierced with an infinite number of small holes
which communicate with the internal cavity. By che¬
mical analysis wool is found to contain carbonat of am¬
monia, and a considerable quantity of oil. It is very
little altered by exposure to the air, and undergoes no
change from the action of boiling water. It is of great
consequence that the bleacher should attend to this cir¬
cumstance, as will appear immediately.
14. A solution of caustic alkali, or caustic ley, de¬
stroys it altogether, and forms with it a soap, for the
discovery and application of which we are indebted to
Chaptal ; it is but little acted on by acids, but the ap¬
plication of a violent heat reduces it to a state of fusion.
From all these circumstances it appears that wool is
nearly allied to oleaginous substances.
15. The examination of these chemical actions is
of consequence to direct the bleacher in his operations
on this substance : the trifling action which acids exert
on wool, and its inalterability in water, even when as¬
sisted by heat, show the necessity of having recourse to
alkalies or soapy matters ; while at the same time the
violent action which these exert, will point out the pro¬
priety of being cautious in their use.
Of Bleaching Wool.
16. The wool as it comes into the hands of the manu¬
facturer usually contains a large portion of the natural
greasy matter, from which it must be purified before it
can undergo the process of bleaching. Sometimes the
farmer cleans it from most of its oil, so as to diminish
its weight by 50 or 60 per cent, in order to enhance
the value of the article ; but care is taken to leave
some portion, as the natural fat is found to be the best
preservative against the attacks of moths and other in¬
sects.
17. The first object then is to carry off the whole of the
oily matter, which is called the operation of scouring, and
is performed by means of an ammoniacal ley, which is
thus prepared. Five parts of river or other soft wrater are
to be mixed with one part of stale purified urine, which
is found to contain a large quantity of ammonia (a).
This
(a) The detergent property of urine has been long known, and it is frequently employed in washing to
3 save
hi. I. B L E A C
Aniil This mixture is to he boiled for a short time, am] into
iubstaces. this, at about the heat of 36 degrees, or so that the hand
of the workman can be easily held in it fora considerable
time, the wool is to he thrown. Four or live pailfuls will
generally be sufficient for 20 pounds of wool. After
steeping for a short time, the wool is to he stirred about
in the mixture continually for about a quarter of an
hour or 20 minutes, according to the quantity of greasy
matter. It is then to be taken out and drained into a
basket, so that the drainings may drop into the vessel
in which it was steeped, that nothing may be lost. It
must now he completely rinsed by exposing it in
baskets to a continued stream of clear water, while a
workman is perpetually employed in stirring it with a
pole, till the water passes oS’ perfectly clear. The
wool is then removed, and a fresh quantity put into the
basket, which is to he treated in the same manner.
The steeping and rinsing are to be repeated till the
wool has attained as great a degree of whiteness as it is
capable of receiving from this operation. It is neces¬
sary, in order to conduct this process to the greatest ad¬
vantage, that the workmen should attend to the follow¬
ing circumstances.
18. 1st, A quantity of fresh ley must be from time
to time added to the hath, as the immersion of the
wool is found to weaken its power ; hut it is better not
entirely to renew the bath, as the grease abstracted from
the wool, during its immersion, forms with the ammo¬
nia of the uxdne a kind of soap, which much increases
the cleansing quality of the bath.
19. 2cl, Increasing the temperature of the hath will
augment its deterging powers, and may sometimes sup¬
ply the want of an addition of stale urine ; but both
these circumstances require caution, as too great a de¬
gree of heat hardens the greasy matter, and renders it
more difficult of solution 5 and again, too much urine
makes the wool harsh.
20. 3d, After being much used, the bath becomes too
foul, and must be entirely renewed.
21. The wool which has properly undergone the pro¬
cess of scouring should be white, soft, elastic, and open ;
whereas before it was hard, stiff, and greasy. By this
operation the wool loses much more of its weight, so
that 100 pounds of raw wool, when completely scoured,
will not yield more than 30 or 40 fit for the manufac¬
ture of cloth.
22. After scouring, the wool is sometimes carried to
the fulling mill, in which it acquires an additional de¬
gree of whiteness. The above is chiefly employed for
the coarser wools, and wool that has yet to be carded
for the making of broad cloth, but for the finer kind
it is better to employ a bath in which soap has been
dissolved. This method is more expensive, hut the ex¬
pence is compensated by the superior quality of the
wool which is thus treated. This operation is per¬
formed by the comber, and is thus conducted. The
wool is divided into parcels containing each about
six pounds and a half. A hath is prepared with two
pounds and a half of green or black soap dissolved in
H I N G.
661
a sufficient quantity of boiling water ; and in this bath Animal
a parcel of the wool is to be washed for a longer or Substanees.
shorter time according to ijs foulness. It is then ■ ■
wrung by means of a hook, and hung in the sunshine
or air to dry. Before it is combed it must undergo a
second scouring, which clears it of all the natural oily
matter.
23. This quantity of wool is not to be washed all
at once, but in successive portions, and fresh hot
water is to be added from time to time in order to
free the wool more easily from the grease. For wring¬
ing it there is a hook fixed at each end of the washing-
tub, on which the wool is fastened and turned round
by means of a handle or winch, fixed to one of the
hooks. As economy should be consulted in every ma¬
nufacture, a method of scouring wool without soap,
would be of considerable advantage. Fullers have
long been in the habit of employing a species of clayey
earth, called from them fullei's earth, which has the
property of combining with the greasy matter and
rendering it more soluble in water. A new earth has
lately been found on an estate belonging to Lord War¬
wick, which by certain processes is made to answer the
purpose of soap, and a patent for its preparation has
been granted to Mr John Vancouver. It is not distin¬
guished by any particular name, and is disposed or si¬
tuated in the ground in different strata or layers. The
first or uppermost layer is of a greenish or grayish co¬
lour j the second layer is of a beautiful lilac or light
purple } and the third or undermost is generally white,
although the white is found intermixed with the purple.
The stratum on which the earth lies, is indurated red
marl, and it is superinduced by a bed of gravel. The
thickness of the entire stratum of this earth is from
four inches to one foot, and its general position is very
even, regular, and level. When first taken out of the
earth, its colours are very fine, particularly the lilac,
which, on exposure to the sun’s rays, or to the influence
of frost, soon becomes white. On chemical examination,
it appears to contain clay, siliceous sand, and the oxide
of iron ; but a more studied examination would proba¬
bly shew the existence of other peculiarities, from which
the detergent property of this earth might be, found to
arise.
The processes for manufacturing this earth are
performed as follows :—After digging it out of the
vein, it is dried by means of stoves or otherwise ; then
pulverised, and sifted through fine sieves ; a size is then
prepared from white shreds of leather, and the dry
sifted earth is beaten up with the size ; after which
it is formed into convenient parcels or cakes, resem¬
bling those of soap, and of such sizes, figures, and di¬
mensions, as are best adapted to the purposes of its in¬
tended application. The use of the size is to keep the
parts of the earth together, and to moderate the effect
of its absorbent quality, which is so extreme, as to
cause it to become pulverulent, like quick-lime, when
water is added to the dried earth; and on this ac¬
count the patentee does not confine himself to the use
of
save soap. At sea, where fresh water cannot be spared for the purpose of washing, the sailors are accustomed,
to scour their foul linen in stale urine, which so far cleanses them that a subsequent rinsing in salt water ren™
ders them tolerably pure and sweet.
662
Animal of size made of leather, but applies other animal and
Substances, vegetable mucilage to the same purpose, giving the
preterence to such, as by their cheapness and adhesive
quality are best adapted to the purposes of the manu¬
facture. The most distinctive property of this earth is
that of cleansing wool in a manner much superior to
soap 5 because it makes it equally white and clean,
without robbing it of what manufacturers call its na¬
ture, as soap does j for, it is well known, that when
wool is washed with coarse soap, it undergoes some
change, either in the polish of its surface, or in the
elasticity of its fibres, or in some other respects, which
causes it to feel less full to the hand, so that it will not
rise and spring up, after the pressure, in the same man¬
ner as it did before such washing. Whereas, on the
contrary, wool, when treated with the washing-earth,
becomes equally white and clean, at the same time
that it remains in possession of all its original fulness
and elasticity, which are of great consequence and
value in the manufacture of this important article of
* Month, produce *. Before the wool is quite dry it is combed,
xv<l> 3^4 aS °Pera^on f°und to succeed best when it is a
" little moist, it being then easier to form it into proper
lengths of three or four feet. Considerable nicety is
requisite in the conducting of these first processes, as
much of the success of the succeeding operations de¬
pends on their proper management.
24. After combing, the wool sometimes undergoes
two or three farther washings, especially when it is re¬
quired of a very delicate white.
25* It is known that the wool has been properly
scoured, by its filaments being smooth, long and slen¬
der, white, and perfectly free from foreign substances,
and not having lost their natural tenacity. The Dutch
wool is generally the purest: the English is next in
quality, but is much harsher and fouler. The German
wool is still harsher than the English, and the French
is inferior to them all.
26. The loss sustained by the wools in scouring is
proportional to their impurity. Thus the French and
German lose about a third ot their weight, while the
Dutch and English do not lose above a fourth.
2J. But this scouring, whether it be performed with
urine, soap, or earth, is seldom sufficient to bring the
wool to that brilliant whiteness which is desirable for
some manufactures. This is given it by means of the
vapour of sulphur, or by steeping it in sulphurous acid,
which is called by the manufacturers sulphuring.
28. The usual method of sulphuring goods is to ex¬
pose them in a very close apartment to the vapour of
burning sulphur. The goods are hung on poles so
disposed that the vapour can readily pass between the
pieces, and when the chamber is filled, a quantity of
sulphur, placed in very flat and broad dishes, is set fire
to, and allowed to burn away gradually in the chamber,
while every aperture by which the vapour could escape
is carefully closed. The acid vapour generated by the
combination of the sulphur with the oxygen of the air
of the chamber, penetrates to every part of the cloth
to which it can get access, destroys the colouring mat¬
ter, and thus completes the bleaching. Every thing
is allowed to remain quiet till it is supposed that the
eflect of the sulphureous vapour has fully taken place,
which requires from 6 to 24 hours.
29. The action of the sulphureous vapour leaves a
2
Parti, C
roughness and harshness on the cloth, which are remo- Animal
ved by passing it through a bath slightly impregnated SubstTcL.
with soap. ^
Such was the usual method of sulphuring woollen
cloth ; but it was soon found to be very imperfect, as
the effect ol the vapour scarcely extends beyond the
surface, and thus there is often a necessity for renewing
the operation. O’Reilly has lately proposed to employ
the sulphurous acid dissolved in water, and he thus de¬
scribes the method of preparing and using it.
30. “ The sulphurous acid, or that acid which is
produced by the imperfect combustion of sulphur, dif¬
fers from the sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol) in contain,
ing less of the acidifying principle, and constituting,
as we may say, the mean between sulphur and sulphu¬
ric acid.
31. “ Sulphux-ous acid combines very readily with
water. In this state of combination it maybe employ¬
ed for the bleaching of wool and silk. We may pro¬
cure it in this state by making the gas pass through wa¬
ter, in an apparatus similar to that which is employed
for obtaining the oxygenated muriatic acid. The most
economical mode of preparing this acid is by decompo¬
sing the sulphuric acid by means of some combustible
substance which is capable of depriving it of a part of
its oxygen. In the nice experiments of the laboratory,
where the chemist wishes to have it in the greatest pu-
rity, it is obtained by means of metallic bodies, and
especially mercury j but for our purpose, where we
must consult economy, we shall recommend the most
common materials.
32. “ Take chopped straw, or saw-dust, and put it in¬
to a matrass j pour over it some sulphuric acid, and ap¬
ply a moderate heat. Sulphurous acid gas, or sul¬
phureous vapour, will be disengaged 5 which may be
combined with water by means of the following appa¬
ratus.
33. “ A matrass with a long neck is placed in a fur¬
nace, and made to communicate with a tubulated bottle
in which a little water has been put to absorb the small
quantity of sulphuric acid which might pass through
the first reservoir without being decomposed. Care
must be taken to place a small tube within the bottle,
so that one of its extremities is immersed some way
below the surface of the water to prevent absorption.
A tube with a double curvature conducts the gas into
the vessels in which it is to combine ultimately with
the water. We propose to make a hollow cylinder of
lead, or white wood, bound with varnished iron, of a
pretty considerable height, and surmounted with one of
Wolfe’s bottles, the bottom of which has been remo¬
ved, and which must be made to fit into a collar in the
mouth of the leaden cylinder j and care must be taken
to make it firm by means of wax, but so as to render
the joining impervious to fluids. This capital of glass
will allow us to see the number of bubbles which are
disengaged on the surface of the water, and thus to
ascertain the progress of the saturation, while the
weight of this narrow and high column of water, pres¬
sing on the bubbles of sulphurous acid gas, as it is
disengaged from the end of the tube at the bottom of
the cylinder, will facilitate its combination with the
water, and will accelerate its dissolution in that fluid.
That nothing may be lost, we may have a series of
two or three of these cylinders connected together,
BLEACHING.
. II.
BLEACHING.
1 and they will then comprise the whole of the apparatus
es- which we are describing. A cock fixed in the bottom
of each cylinder will facilitate the discharge of the li¬
quor into the tub for immersion.
34. “ The apparatus which w’e would recommend
for the immersion of the woollen and silken goods in
the ley of sulphurous acid perfectly resembles what
will be described hereafter for the immersion in oxy¬
genated muriatic acid, and which we ha\?e constructed
after the principles of Rupp. From conversing on this
apparatus with Cit. Widmer of Jouy, we have con¬
ceived the design of the present, which is now making
at the manufactory of Essonne. Let us suppose an ob¬
long box, divided by a partition in the middle j on
each side of this partition is a large reel, on which the
stuffs are to be rolled 5 at each angle is fixed a roller,
over which the stuffs pass before they proceed through
the partition to be drawn over a similar number of rol¬
lers which conduct them to the second reel. The ob¬
ject of this disposition is to make the stuffs pass through
the bleaching liquor, and expose it to the greatest pos¬
sible surface.
35. “ For the purpose of turning this reel, we make
use of an axis or column of glass which passes through
a collar of leather, and has one of its extremities, which
is square, fixed into the reel, while the other is fixed
to a winch, which gives it the rotatory motion ; and
in this way we may entirely avoid employing any me¬
tallic substance within the vessel. To prevent the
escape of the gas, the cover of the tub is made with a
ledge which fits exactly into the rim of the box, and of
which at least an inch should pass into the deterging
liquor.
36. “ I propose the following method of bleaching
woollen stuffs : We are first to scour them by immersion
in a ley slightly alkaline, in the proportion of a pound
of potash to 50 pounds of wool. The bath is heated to
the temperature of 30 degrees (b).
37. “ The old method with stale urine may also be
employed. Urine is preferred, because it holds in so¬
lution a quantity of salt, which is not sufficient to in¬
jure the wool.
38. “ When the grease is dissolved, and the wool has
been well purified, it is to be washed in warm soapy wa¬
ter. This part of the process is sometimes performed
in the fulling mill, sometimes by beaters, and some¬
times by treading in the tub. In every case the grease
must be separated by repeated washing before the sul¬
phuring is employed. If we wish to obtain a brilliant
whiteness, it would be proper to make the stuffs under¬
go heat a second, or even a third time, always in water-
slightly impregnated with soap, in the proportion of two
ounces of this substance to a pound of wool. It would
be better to repeat this operation, turning the stuffs a-
bout with a stick for half an hour, than to endanger in¬
juring the quality of the stuffs by employing too strong
a ley.
39. “ After scouring with the greatest care, the stuffs
are carried to the tubs for steeping in the liquid sulphu¬
rous acid, or, as it may be called, the sulphur water ;
the pieces are rolled upon the reels, and by turning
663
the winch, are made to pass through the acid, till it is Animal
observed that they are sufficiently whitened. They are Substances,
then taken out, and suffered to drain on a table covered *
with a cloth, that the action of the sulphurous acid on
the wood may not injure them ; they are afterwards .
washed in river water, and, if necessary, Spanish white
is used. This is done by steeping the pieces in a tub
of clear water, in which about eight pounds of Spanish
white have been diffused. Two sulphurings are usually
employed to obtain a fine white ^ but in our process, a
single immersion, with turning for two or three hours,
should be sufficient.
40. “ Before recommending the employment of the
liquid sulphurous acid, I have made a great many ex¬
periments on woollen threads and stuffs, varying the
manipulations, and always with the most complete suc¬
cess _ * O'Reillt/
41. Besides the whiting mentioned in the above ex-Essaisur l&
tract, it is usual to pass the stuffs through water impreg-
nated with blue, or, what is generally practised, after7/1
the whiting has been used, the stuffs are taken out, and
to the same bath of Spanish whiting and water is added
a pail of Water, in which about an ounce and a half of
fine indigo, or of Prussian blue, have been diffused, the
blue being pounded, sifted, and tied up in a little, bag,
which is stirred round in the water. When the blue
water has been added, the bath is well stirred, and the
piece of cloth is again passed through it. It is after-
wards laid on a packing cloth, and subjected to the ful¬
ler’s thistle, to raise the nap, it being wetted from time
to time with the liquor of the bath. It is then dried,
and well beaten with twigs, to carry off the superfluous
whiting.
42. Manufacturers have an idea that bad smells,
such as foul breath, are capable of producing some
change on the bath of blue and white, and thus render
a repetition of the process necessary. It is certain, that
without attention the white and blue will not be inti¬
mately diffused, and that thus a kind of vegetation will
be produced on the cloth. When this happens, it must
be washed by plunging it into hot water, and then the
bath must be repeated.
43. It is chiefly to cloths that are to be of the finest
quality that all these processes are adapted. For ordi¬
nary flannels, especially such as are intended to be worn
next the skin, sulphuring and soap baths are less pro¬
per ; and the soap especially diminishes the absorbency,
which is so desirable a property in these flannels. They .
are usually prepared by scouring with bran and water,
and subsequent rinsing in fair water.
Chap. II. Of the Bleaching »f Silk.
44. Silk is a substance possessing some degree of
transparency, and is spun by a caterpillar from a mat¬
ter contained within its body, which has the property
of hardening when exposed to the air. The silk-worm
is an inhabitant of the southern climates, being origi¬
nally bx-ought from Asia, and naturalized in the south
of Europe about the period of the decline of the Roman
empire.
45. The
(b) About 100 degrees of Fahrenheit.
BLEACHING.
664
Animal 45. The filaments of silk, as left by the silk-worm, are
Substances, rolled together into a kind of ball or clew, and in their
natural, or what is called the raw state^ are covered
with a yellow varnish or gum, which obscures their
lustre, and gives them an unpleasant roughness.
46. Water has no effect on silk at the boiling tem¬
perature, and no change is produced on it by alcohol ;
but alkaline leys, when tolerably strong, attack, and are
capable of dissolving it. The yellow varnish is soluble
also in alkaline leys, and it may even be separated by
long-continued boiling of the silk. When the varnish
is thus carried oft", the silk is found to have lost about
ft fourth of its original weight.
47. Two methods are in practice for bleaching silk ;
the first, in which it is ungummed or deprived of the
natural varnish j the second, in which this is retained, in
order to give them that stiffness which is required for
gauzes, blonds, &c.
48. In the first process, the silk is to undergo a scour¬
ing, similar to what we have described, as necessary for
depriving wool of the natural oil. For this purpose,
a quantity of water is put into a boiler over a fire, and
for every hundred pounds of silk to be scoured, thirty
pounds of very fine soap are dissolved. The solution
is generally boiled, but before the silk is put into it,
the heat must be lovvered to about 90 degrees of
Fahrenheit, and at this temperature it must be kept
during the process. The silks are to be hung in the
liquor upon rods or frames, and left till the gum is
sufficiently destroyed, care being taken to alter their
position now and then, so that every part may be expos¬
ed to the action of the bath. When perfectly ungum¬
med, they are flexible and of a dull whiteness ; in this
state they are to be wrung with the pin to clear them
of the soapy water, then well shaken, and put into
coarse linen bags, in parcels of from twenty to thirty
pounds each.
49. These bags are now to be steeped in a fresh bath,
«r, as the workmen speak, are to be baked. The bath
is prepared in a manner and proportion much as before,
except that the quantity of soap may be somewhat di¬
minished, as the heat is to be increased j for the silk is
now to be boiled for two or three hours, taking care to
keep the bags from sticking to the bottom of the boiler,
by frequently stirring them with a stick.
50. For silk that is intended to be dyed, the former
steeping in the lukewarm bath is unnecessary, and the
present boiling only is employed, using a greater quan¬
tity of soap in proportion to the fineness of the colour.
Thus for the ordinary colours, the proportion above
laid down, or even less, will suffice ; but for the saftra-
num colours, and the poppy and cherry red, even 50
pounds are sometimes employed to the 100 pounds of
silk.
51. After boiling, the silk is wrung as before, and
then washed thoroughly in, a stream of water j they
are then examined, and if it appears that they are not
sufficiently or not uniformly scoured, they must be sub¬
mitted to a fresh bath.
52. The white silk usually sold has a bluish shade.
This is given it by a bath impregnated with litmus, or
indigo. This is prepared by dissolving a pound and a a •
hall of fine soap in about ninety gallons of water, inSublw.
which a small quantity of litmus or indigo has been dif- '"—v-o
fused. Ihe bath is heated to about 90 degrees, and
the silk is passed through it over rods or reels till it
have acquired the requisite shade. Being taken out it
is wrung and dried.
53. From these processes, the silk acquires a tole¬
rably clear white, but the highest degree is given to
it by the action of the sulphurous acid, either in the
state of vapours, as is usually practised, or by immersing
it in the liquid acid, according to the method of M.
O’Reilly.
54. From what has been said above of the action of
various substances on silk, it will easily be conceived,
that during scouring it must suffer considerably in its
quality. Io avoid this, a method has been lately pro¬
posed of carrying off the varnish by the aid of steam
under an increased pressure. As this has been more
extensively employed in the bleaching of cottons, we
shall delay giving a detailed account of the process till
a future part of this article. The following is the me¬
thod proposed by O’Reilly.
55- “ fake a solution of caustic soda, so weak that
it indicates at most but a quarter of a degree of the
areometer for salts, and fill with it the boiler of the
apparatus for steam bleaching. Charge the frames
with the skains of raw silk, and place them in the ap¬
paratus till it be filled, then close the door and cause the
solution to boil; continue the ebullition for twelve
hours j slacken the fire and open the door of the ap¬
paratus. Ihe heat of the vapour, which is always
above 100 degrees (c), will be sufficient to ungum and
scour the silk. Wash the skains in warm water j wring
them with the pin ; and place them a second time on
the frames of the apparatus to undergo another boiling.
Then wash them in a considerable quantity of water,
and if you desire the greatest degree of whiteness, rinse
them in water slightly impregnated with soap, to give
them a little softness.
56. “ The last degree of whiteness is obtained by
passing the skains through the sulphurous acid, using
the method and apparatus which I have recommended
for bleaching wool; and which here supersedes sul¬
phuring. The incalculable advantage of that method
over others, consists principally in the possibility of em¬
ploying the operations in succession, without running
the risk of injuring the quality of the silk by too
strong leys*.” * d’HoHj
57. Such are the most approved methods of bleach-
ing silk when deprived of the yellow gum $ but when
this is not required, the bleaching is to be performed by
some substance which has the property of whitening the
silk and its varnish without dissolving the gum. Of
this description is alcohol, and two French authors have
proposed a method of bleaching silk by means of this
and muriatic acid. It was first proposed by M. Rigaud
in 177®? thus shortly described by Pajot de
Charmes.
58. “ The silk intended to be bleached, is put into a
glass vessel containing a mixture of spirit of wine and
muriatic
CP1
'ft
14 0,
114 f
M il-
M's IS
it»
(c} About 250 degrees of Fahrenheit.
BLEACHING.
i-
1 muriatic aci^, in the proportion of a pound of the for¬
es. mer to half an ounce of the latter, and in quantity suf¬
ficient to float the silk. The vessel is then closed with
wet parchment, and exposed for 12 hours to the sun, or
otherwise it may be left 24 hours in the shade, at a tem¬
perature of between 160 and 20° Reaumur. The silk
is then taken out and pressed, and again macerated for
the same time, and under the same circumstances, in
fresh acidulated spirit of wine, in another similar vessel,
closed as before. The silk is then taken out, pressed,
and washed for four or five minutes in pure spirit of
wine. In the next place, it is kept for 24 hours in the
sun, or 36 in the shade, in a third vessel, containing
pure spirit of wine, which is to be renewed at inter¬
vals ; after which, the silk is to be taken out, pressed
or washed two or three times in clear water, which is
to be changed at each washing. Lastly, the silk is to
be exposed to dry upon a frame, so contrived as to
stretch it with considerable force, and prevent its cur¬
ling up as it dries.”
59. In 1795 M. Baume proposed an improvement of
this method, with the means of recovering the alcohol,
which we shall give in the words of Mr Nicholson in
his Journal.
60. “ Berthollet, in his Elemens de VArt de la Tein-
ture, published in the year 1791, after describing the
usual methods of depriving silk of its resinous or gummy
matter*, proceeds to remark, that, in the manufacture
or of blonds and gauzes, the natural elasticity and stiffness
of this article are required to be preserved : whence it
has become a desideratum to render the yellow silk of
Europe white like that of China, without depriving it
of its gum. He adds, that M. Baume has solved this
interesting problem, but had kept his process a secret j
but from the facts he had possessed the means of obtain¬
ing, it appeared liable to accidents, and that the chief
difficulty consisted in giving an uniform white colour
when large quantities were operated upon. He also
mentions a difficulty in dressing the whitened silk so as
to prevent its curling, and observes that it ought cer¬
tainly to be kept constantly stretched during the dry¬
ing. It is besides requisite that the spirit of wine
should be recovered after the process, which would else
be rendered too expensive. This author does not say
whether the white Chinese silk is subject to the same
inconvenience of curling when dyed, which, it may be
remarked, is a property of no consequence where the
material is to be applied in the manufacture of white
goods. The motives which led M. Baume to communi¬
cate his process to the world, originally retained by him
as a lucrative secret, do not appear. Whether the mi¬
stakes of those who carried it into effect in the large
way might have led him to vindicate the reality of his
discovery by publication; or whether the commercial
advantages derived from superiority of quality and
cheapness in this article over the Chinese silk in the
market of France, might in the end have proved of less
value than the scientific reputation to be derived from
its disclosure $ are circumstances which will, no doubt,
have their proper weight with such manufacturers as
may be induced gradually to adopt this process.
665
6r. “ The silk of Nankin is perfectly white, silvery, Animal
brilliant, and possesses all the elasticity of raw silk. Our Substances,
author affirms, that the value of this article imported '-—v™-—'
into Europe amounts to upwards of twenty millions
of livres (about 830,000!. sterling), of which France
consumes about four or five millions in gauzes, blonds,
ribbands, &c. This was formerly supposed to be pro¬
duced of a white colour from the worm. The late M.
Trudaine, intendant of commerce, procured the eggs of
silk-worms from China, and cultivated them. The pro¬
duce consisted of yellow cocons, and others of the most
perfect whiteness. The latter afforded silk equal in this
respect to those of Nankin. But M. Baume affirms,
that most of the Nankin silk is bleached by art, and,
as he thinks, by a process similar to his own.
62. “ As it is impossible to wind off a large quantity
of silk in the short time previous to that of the insects
eating their way through the mass, it is usual, in the
first place, to deprive them of life. This is commonly
done by exposing the cocons, properly wrapped up, fot
two hours, to the heat of about 158 degrees of Fahren¬
heit in an oven j after which they are kept for a certain
time in a mass to preserve their heat, and effectually
destroy such of the insects as might have escaped the
power of the oven. The effect of this process is, that
the silk is hardened, and is more difficult to wind off
than before. Hence the produce of silk is less by one-
ninth part in quantity, and inferior in quality to what
might have been obtained by winding off without this
previous baking. M. Baume, not only from these views,
but likewise because the silk which has not been baked
proves susceptible of a greater lustre, was induced to de¬
stroy the chrysalis by spirit of wine. For this purpose
he disposes them in a wooden box in a stratum six inches
deep : upon each square foot half a chopin, or some¬
what more, of spirit of wine is to be sprinkled with a
small watering-pot made for that purpose. This quan¬
tity answers sufficiently near to our half pint. The li¬
quid is to be equally distributed, but it is not necessary
that all the cocons should be wetted. They are then
to be mixed by hand. In the next place, another stra¬
tum is to be formed over the first, nearly of the same
depth, which is to be sprinkled and treated as before.
By this method of proceeding, the box becomes filled,
and must then be covered and left for 24 hours, during
which time they become spontaneously heated to about
100 degrees, and the vapour of the spirit of wine exerts
itself with wonderful activity. Five hundred French
pounds (d) of the cocons require 10 French pints,
which is nearly the same number of English quarts.
After this treatment they must be spread out to dry,
which happens in a short time, and is absolutely neces¬
sary previous to winding off.
63. “ When the operator proposes in this manner to
extinguish various parcels of cocons belonging to differ¬
ent individuals, each parcel may be tied up loosely in a
canvas bag, and wetted on the outside previous to clo¬
sing the box.
64. “ The spirit of wine to be used in this operation,
ought to be of the strength of 34 degrees of Baum^’s
hydrometer at the temperature of 55 degrees. It is of
the
(d) The Paris pound is to the English avoirdupois pound as 756 to 700. These quantities are not reduced,
because the operation requires no great precision.
Vol. III. Part II. f a p
t
666 B L E A
Animal the greatest Importance to use that spirit only which
Substances, has been kept in vessels of glass, of tinned copper, or
of pure tin. Leaden vessels are absolutely to be re¬
jected ; wooden vessels tinge the spirit, which gives the
silk a degree of colour of considerable solidity, and very
inimical to the bleaching process.
65. “ With regard to the advantages of this method
of extinction, in preference to that of the oven, the
author remarks, that the cost of labour and fuel add¬
ed to the loss of silk, and the probability of injury from
too much or too little heat, constitute a sum of dis¬
advantage much greater than the cost of the spirit of
wine. It is besides a considerable advantage, that the
spirit ol wine renders more distinguishable such cocons
as have perished previous to the application of the spi¬
rit. These afford a much worse silk, and must be pick¬
ed out.
66. “ The silk is w^und off’ upon a reel, while the
cocons are kept immersed in water almost boiling.
Upon this part of the process M. Baume remarks, 1st,
That the dead cocons must be separated. These are
known by the brown or black spots on their surface.
2. Ibat well water, which on account of its clearness
is almost universally used in the silk manufactories,
mostly contains nitre, and is extremely prejudicial to
the bleaching process. The presence of nitrous acid
gives a yellow colour, which resists bleaching and even
scouring 5 he therefore recommends river water’. 3. In
some countries a small quantity of alum is used. Nei¬
ther this nor any other saline substance is of the least
advantage to the colour, beauty, or quality of the
silk.
67. “ At the four places of contact of the silk upon
the reel, all the threads stick together. It is absolutely
necessary that this should be remedied. The method
consists in soaking the silk in a sufficient quantity of
warm water, at about 90 degrees, for about two hours;
after which the threads are to be separated by open¬
ing the hanks upon a pin, and lightly rubbing the
parts which cohere. When the silk is dry, it is to be
loosely folded in its original form, and is ready for
bleaching. 4
68. “ The silk while wet is soft, and part of its
gummy matter is in such a state, that its threads would
readily adhere, if wrung while warm for the purpose
of clearing it of the water. After such improper treat¬
ment there would be no other remedy than to soak it
again in warm water.
69. “ The apparatus for bleaching the silk consists
of a stone-ware vessel, nearly of a conical form, capable
of holding about 12 gallons, having a large opening at
the one end, and a smaller of about an inch diameter
at the other end. Common pottery cannot be used in
this operation, because it is soon rendered unserviceable
by the action of the marine acid, and the stone-ware
itself is not very durable. This vessel must be care¬
fully examined, to ascertain that it does not leak in
the slightest degree j after which the inside is to be rub¬
bed with a pumice-stcne, to clear it of asperities which
might break the threads. A cover of the same mate-
CHING. Part,
rial is to be fitted on by grinding; and the smaller An-
aperture, which in the use is the lowest, is to be closed SuJtaTcL
with a good cork, in the middle of which is thrust a1—
small glass tube about a quarter of an inch in diameter;
this is likewise stopped with a cork, excepting at the
time when it is required to draw off'the liquid contents
of the jar. A small perforated false bottom is placed
within the vessel, to prevent this tube from being ob¬
structed.
70. “ This jar, or as many of them as the purposes
of the manufactory may require, is supported by a
wooden frame or table, at such a height that a cask
may be conveniently placed beneath to receive what
may flow from the glass tube in the several periods of
the operation.
71. “ Six pounds of yellow raw silk are to be dis¬
posed in the earthen pot; upon this is to be poured a
mixture, previously made, of 48 pounds (e) of spirit
of wine at 30 degrees, with 12 ounces of very pure
marine acid, absolutely exempt from all presence of ni¬
trous acid, and of the strength of 14 or 15 degrees of
Baume’s hydrometer. The pot is then to be covered,
and the whole left in digestion till the following day,
or until the liquor, which at first assumes a fine green
colour, shall begin to assume that of a dusky brown
(feuille morte').
72. “ The acidulated spirit is then to be drawn off.
To prevent evaporation, M. Baume thrusts a cork in
the bung-hole of the receiving cask, in which is a slid¬
ing glass tube. The use of this tube is completely to
surround the small tube proceeding from the earthen
vessel. When the whole of the fluid is thus almost en¬
tirely drawn oft', clean spirit of wdne is poured upon «
the silk, and drawn off repeatedly until it passes co¬
lourless. The silk is then suffered to drain without
stirring it. In this state it is ready for a second in¬
fusion.
73. “ Forty-eight pounds of spirit of wine acidulated
with 12 ounces of marine acid is now to be poured on
the silk, and the whole suffered to remain for 24 hours
or longer, until the silk becomes perfectly white. The
time required for this second infusion is commonly
longer than for the first: it sometimes amounts to two,
three, or even six days, according to circumstances,
particularly the temperature and the nature of the silk.
Silk which has been in the oven is in general more dif¬
ficult to bleach.
74. “ When the silk has thus obtained its utmost
degree of whiteness, the*acidulated spirit is to be
drawn off into a separate vessel. This fluid is but
slightly coloured, and may be used again in the first in¬
fusion of other yellow silk, with addition of six ounces
more of marine acid. The receiving vessel is to be re¬
moved, and another clean vessel substituted in its place.
The silk is then sprinkled with clean spirit, and occa¬
sionally pressed down with the hand. As soon as the
spirit of wine comes off’ absolutely colourless, a third
infusion is to be made, by pouring upon th- silk 48
pounds of the pure spirit without acid, which is to re¬
main till the following day: it is then to be drawn oft,
2
(e) The pound is nearly a pint, and is divided into 16 ounces.
Chi). II.
ljubs
An|u! »iul reserved for washing other silk after the first in-
B L E A
ce* fusion.
75. “ After the silk has been left to drain, and af¬
fords no more spirit, it still retains its own weight of
that fluid. This is recovered by the very simple pro¬
cess of sprinkling the silk with a small quantity of very
clear river water at a time. While the water applies
itself and subsides along the silk, it drives the spirit of
wine before it, so that the first portions which flow from
the tube are scarcely diminished in strength. The ad¬
dition of water is to be continued until nothing but mere
water comes off below.
76. “ In this situation the silk is found to be well
bleached, but still retains a portion of marine acid suf¬
ficient to render it harsh to the touch, and after a time
brittle, [t must be washed oft with water. The best
method is to put the silk loosely into a coarse woollen
bag, which is to be secured closely in another cloth
like a small bed or pillow, then placed in a basket and
left in a running stream for five or six hours ; but where
the convenience of a stream is wanting, the earthen
pot containing the silk is to be covered with a cloth,
and water pumped through it for five or six hours, or
until that which issues from the lower aperture gives
no red colour to the tincture of tournsol. At this pe¬
riod the lower opening is to be closed and the vessel fill¬
ed with water, which must be changed once or twice in
24 hours,
77. “ The time required for washing was occasional¬
ly abridged by passing spirit of wine, or river water
impregnated with a small portion of alkali, through the
silk. The natural salt thus produced is, in fact, less
adherent to the silk than the acid itself, but neverthe¬
less requires to be washed off with a very large quanti¬
ty of water.
78. “ In these, as in every other process relating to
the silk, great care must be taken to ascertain that the
water made use of contains no nitrous acid, which would
infallibly occasion imperfection of colour, or spots in
the article. After this treatment the silk is ready for
drying and lustering; previous to the description of
which, the author makes several remarks to the follow¬
ing purport:
79. “ Though the mineral acids are the most power¬
ful and destructive of all saline substances, yet they
may be applied to silk, when diluted with spirit of wine,
in very considerable doses. In trials, made to ascer¬
tain the maximum, two ounces of marine acid were add¬
ed to one pound of spirit of wine, without altering the
silk. Two drachms of marine acid cause a very per¬
ceptible alteration in one pound of silk. I suppose he
means pure acid, or perhaps diluted with water; for
the passage as it stands is obscure. Numerous expe¬
riments have shown that the marine acid is preferable
to any other. The proportions admit of much lati¬
tude, though he prefers the dose herein before de¬
scribed.
80. “ Spirit of wine which has been mixed with ni¬
trous acid, cannot be used in bleaching, even though
afterwards rectified upon the alkali, because it still re¬
tains a portion of nitrous gas.
81. “ Pure spirit of wine without acid extracts a fine
yellow colour from silk, which does not separate for
years, even though exposed to the sun’s light. Yel-
C H I N G. 667
low silk exposed to the sun loses its colour in a short Animal
time. The acidulated spirit which has been used in the Substances,
infusion of silk, is changed by exposure to the sun, but v"~"niiJ
not in such a manner as to be rendered fit for use a se¬
cond time.
82. “ In order to obtain a beautiful colour, it is es¬
sential that the silk should be immersed in a large quan¬
tity of the fluid, especially at the first infusion. With¬
out this management it would become necessary to
make three infusions in the acidulated spirit. When
the first infusion is well managed, the silk will have lost
all its yellow colour, and become considerably white, at
the same time that the liquor will have begun to change
colour a little. As long as it continues of a fine green,
it is certain that it has not exhausted its whole action
upon the silk.
83. “ The duration of this first infusion may be long¬
er or shorter, without inconvenience, according to the
temperature. When the temperature is at 20 degrees
of Reaumur, which answers to 77 of Fahrenheit, the
first infusion is often made in 10 or 12 hours. In small
experiments the heat of the atmosphere may be supplied
by the water-bath ; in which case, all the infusions are
easily made in the course of a day.
84. “ When the first infusion is finished and the li¬
quor drawn oft’, the silk appears greenish : the subse¬
quent washings in spirit of wine clear it of the liquor
it retained. The sprinkling should be made with the
watering-pot, otherwise the quantity poured will be
greater, and the management more wasteful.
85. “ The cocons may be bleached in this way, but
the inconveniences are too great to render this process
desirable.
86. “ Pieces of gauze and entire garments of silk
have been successfully bleached in this way.
87. “ The finest natural white silks are rendered in¬
finitely whiter by this process. Spirit of wine alone
has the property of depriving yellow silk of its colour,
which it brings to the state of the naturally white silk.
In this state the silk is disposed to acquire a greater
degree of brightness by a single infusion in the acidulat¬
ed spirit. This process has its advantages over the
other, to which it is also inferior in certain respects ;
concerning neither of which the author has entered in¬
to any detail.
88. “ The colouring matter was found to be a resin
perfectly animalized, affording by distillation the same
products as other animal matters, and the concrete vo¬
latile alkali.
89. “ Silk whitened by scouring may be dried free¬
ly in the air without affecting its lustre. This is not
the case with the silk bleached in the gum : if it be
left at liberty to dry in the air, it resembles white flax
without any lustre. The beauty of this silk consists in
its shining brilliancy; to secure which, it must be dried
in a state of tension. M. Baume has contrived a simple
machine for this purpose. It consists of a strong square
frame of wood standing upright upon feet: the upper
horizontal bar is six feet long, and has six iron pins
driven through it at equal distances, so as to project on
each side for the purpose of receiving twelve bobbins.
The lower horizontal bar is moveable up and down in
a mortice by means of a screw at each end : it is fur¬
nished with six holes, adapted to receive as many pins
4 p 2 to
668
Animal to correspond with those above. The skains of silk
Substances, are to be dressed and arranged upon wooden pins, as
they are taken out of the sack from washing. As soon
as there are twelve together, they are to be wrung
with a staff; after which the skains are to be hung
one by one upon as many bobbins put upon the upper
pins of the square frame. Another bobbin with tails
is to be inserted in the lower loop of the skain, and
fastened to the corresponding pin of the lower bar, by
means of a strap and hook, which need not be de¬
scribed to such as are slightly acquainted with mecha¬
nical objects. When the machine is thus supplied with
skains on both sides, the lower bar of the frame is to
be pressed down by the screws until the silk is mo¬
derately stretched. When it is dry, the screws are to
be equally slackened, the skains taken off, and folded
with a slight twist, that they may not become entang¬
led.
9<5. “ After this description of the whole of his pro¬
cess, the author proceeds to make certain general re¬
marks on the white China silk. He observes, that in
his process the silks acquire the perfect whiteness with¬
out much handling, and consequently that there is lit¬
tle cause for them to become entangled. Accordingly
the loss in unwinding is found to be no greater than
when they are unwound in the yellow state : that is to
say, from a drachm to a drachm and a half in the
pound. This saving is of the greatest importance in
the price of the silk.
91. “ The silk of Nankin, which he supposes to be
bleached by some process of the same nature, is proba¬
bly handled much more. The loss is nearly twelve
per cent, when it comes to be opened, and not unfre-
quently even 25 per cent. : a loss which cannot in any
respect arise from the package. The quality of the
Nankin silk differs much in the package; the external
part being always of the best quality, and that which
is packed within is of such an inferior quality as some¬
times not to exceed half the value. On examining
this silk, it not only exhibited unequivocal marks of
alkali, but its imperfections were also of the same kind
as those which had occurred to M. Baume during the
progressive improvement of his own manipulations.
The best China silk was neither improved nor injured
by the process of Baume ; whence he concludes that
they are not naturally white, but have undergone a pro¬
cess similar to his.
92. “ Ihe result of the whole is, that the yellow silks
of Europe may be bleached to equal or greater perfec¬
tion than those of Nankin ; and that these may be even
greatly exceeded by winding the naturally white silk
apart from the other, and bleaching it by itself.
93. “ To complete the description of M. Baume’s
process for bleaching silk, nothing more remains, than
to shew in what manner he recovers the ardent spirit,
and ensures the purity of the acid made use of. These
circumstances are of essential importance to the art;
for the process would be much too expensive if the
spirit were lost, and it could not be made to succeed at
all if the acid were impure.
94. “ The alcohol which has been used in bleach¬
ing silk, is acid, and loaded with colouring matter.
In this state it cannot be again used. There are two
methods of distilling it; which have their respective
advantages and inconveniences. By the first, the acid
a.
Ptllt I,
is lost; which is saturated with potash, in order that Ani
the distillation may be afterwards performed in a cop-Sukst^cei
per alembic. The second is performed by distilling
with glass retorts, or an alembic of silver. In either
of these vessels, which are not acted upon by the
marine acid, the distillation may be performed, and
the greater part of the acid recovered. The inventor
most generally practised the saturation of the acid from
reasons of convenience; but recommends the use of a
silver alembic, as being most economical upon the
whole, in a manufactory.
95- u A solution of potash is to be poured into the
acid spirit, and stirred about to promote the saturation.
Carbonic acid is disengaged with strong effervescence
from the alkali, and the point of saturation is known
by the usual test, that the fluid does not redden the
tincture of tournsol. The distillation is then to be made
in the copper alembic, and the alcohol reserved in pro¬
per vessels, as mentioned in the beginning of this me¬
moir.
96. “ If too much alkali should have been added,
the liquor remaining in the alembic may be used in
another saturation. The alkali in this process being
an expensive article, M. Baume endeavoured to supply
its place by chalk, quick-lime, and lime which had
been slaked by exposure to the air. But he found that
the action of the spirit upon the calcareous earth, or
perhaps the absence of water, prevented the acid from
uniting with that substance. The union does not take
place to perfect saturation in less than five or six weeks,
even when the alcohol is diluted with upwards of 50
times its bulk of water.
97. “ In the second process for distilling without
alkali, the acid spirit is distributed into a great number
of glass retorts, placed in the sand-bath, on the gallery
of a furnace. The first product is scarcely acid ; but
what follows is more and more so, and must be kept in
vessels of glass or stone-ware, which become embarras¬
sing on account of their number. The fluid which re¬
mains in the retorts has the colour of beer slightly tur¬
bid, and contains the greatest part of the marine acid.
It must be poured into one or more retorts, and con¬
centrated by heat gradually applied. The first liquor
which comes over is slightly red, turbid, and scarcely
acid. This is to be thrown away, and the receivers
changed. The succeeding product is the colourless
marine acid, of an aromatic smell resembling the buds
of poplar. The resin of the silk remains in the retort
decomposed by the acid. The marine acid thus obtain¬
ed is weaker than it originally was : which is in fact of
little consequence, as it is pure, and may be safely used,
either by increasing the dose proportional to its dimi¬
nished strength, or by concentrating it, if required, in
the usual way.
98. “ If this distillation be made in a silver alembic,
instead of retorts of glass, and a capital and worm of
pure tin be annexed, the alcohol will be obtained so
slightly acid as scarcely to redden the tincture of tourn¬
sol ; but it is sufficiently acid to receive injury if pre¬
served in a copper vessel.
99. “ If a cucurbit of silver be prepared, of the ca¬
pacity of three or four quarts, with a glass head, the
residues of the first distillation may be treated in this
vessel in the same manner as has been directed for glasa^
retorts. M. Baume affirms that he has practised all
these
BLEACHING.
II. B L E A
Aniial these operations with glass retorts and a small silver
ubstaces. alembic, with the most perfect success j but that he
- "Y— made use of potash to saturate the marine acid, because
he had not a silver vessel of suflicient capacity. From
the danger of distilling large quantities of ardent spirit
in glass vessels, he is of opinion that no motives of eco¬
nomy are sufficient to justify the risk attending this me¬
thod. In the use of tin, it is necessary to be careful that
it contains no adulteration of lead, because the vapours
of marine acid have suflicient power to alter this last
metal very considerably.
100. “ Upon the first intimation of this new process
in France, manufactories were immediately established,
to the number of twenty or more, without the concur¬
rence of M. Baume, by persons who consequently were
not aware of the apparently minute, but very important
circumstances necessary to ensure its success. In parti¬
cular, the inventor states that the marine acid of com¬
merce is unfit for this purpose.
101. “ This acid was formerly prepared with the
marine salt of the saltpetre manufacturers 5 and even
when it is made with good salt, the decomposition is
effected with a small quantity of vitriolic acid which
contains nitrous acid. Marine acid mixed with a small
quantity of nitrous acid does not prevent the silk from
being beautifully whitened : it even accelerates the pro¬
cess considerably, and in the most satisfactory manner.
But the alcohol, every time it is used and rectified, be¬
comes charged with the acid and gas of nitre, which as¬
sume the characters of the nitrous anodyne liquor. In
this state, neither distillations nor repeated rectifications
from alkali are suflicient to separate the nitrous matter
from the alcohol. Then it is that the success of the
operator vanishes, with a degree of rapidity equal to the
advances which encouraged his hopes at the commence¬
ment. The same disappointments befel M. Baume at
the beginning of his labours j to prevent which, he di¬
rects the preparation of the vitriolic and marine acids to
the following effect.
102. “ The vitriolic acid of commerce is obtained by
burning sulphur in chambers of lead, with the addition
of saltpetre, either crude or of the second crystallization,
and a small portion of flax. This acid is concentrated
and rectitied in France, at the place of its fabrication,
to 66° of Baume’s hydrometer, or specific gravity in
the usual form 1.848. It contains sulphur, lead, vitri-
olated tartar, Glauber’s salt, alum, selenite, and parti¬
cularly the nitrous and marine acid.
103. “ To purify it, 100 pounds of this vitriolic
acid is to be mixed in a large bason of copper with the
same quantity of river water, and stirred with a wood¬
en spatula. The mixture instantly becomes heated to
the boiling-water point, and a great quantity of red
vapour is disengaged, which has the smell of aqua re¬
gia, and arises from the nitrous and marine acids.
When this mixture is made, it is proper to immerse
the bason to a suitable depth in a large vessel of water,
to hasten the cooling. As soon as it is sufficiently cool¬
ed it is to be drawn off into bottles, and left to become
clear during several days. Great part of the sulphur
falls down. The author obtained from four to six
drachms.
104. “ A gallery must be provided, on which two
rjpws of iron pots of eleven or twelve inches in diame¬
ter are to be properly placed for separate sand baths,
C H I N G. 669
as M. Baume always practised in the sublimation of Animal
sal ammoniac. By this means the retorts are isolated,Substances,
and if one breaks, the acid cannot diffuse itself and ' »
break the others in its vicinity. An empty retort is
then to be placed in each pot, and covered with sand.
In this way they are much more convenient to arrange,
and are attended with no risk.
105. “ The acid is in the next place to be decanted
and conveyed into the retorts by a syphon funnel, and
the rectification proceeded upon until it becomes per¬
fectly white. Towards the end of the operation a small
quantity of sulphur sublimes in the neck of the retort.
Instead of receivers, a small glass cup is placed beneath
the aperture of each retort, in order to facilitate the dis¬
sipation of the nitrous and marine acids.
106. “ When the acid in the retorts is sufficiently
cooled, it is poured a second time into the copper bason,
and mixed with 100 pounds of river water, as at first,
and again concentrated in the retorts till it becomes
perfectly clear. Sulphur has been afforded in some in¬
stances by the second rectification. The liquor which
distils is received in the cups as before, and the acid in
the retorts is then sufficiently pure : that is to say, it is
purified from all volatile matter. The lead and neutral
salt still remain combined with the acid, but fortunately
they can in no respect injure the purity of the marine
acid.
107. “ This concentrated acid exhibits 68 degrees by
the hydrometer, or specific gravity 1.896. It still con¬
tains a portion of gas, but so small in quantity as not to
injure the purity of the marine acid, to which it only
gives the property of crystallizing when the temperature
of the air is near the freezing point.
108. “ During the rectification of this acid, what
first comes over is mere water, and must be thrown
away ; but that which succeeds is the aqueous acid.
If this be set apart, and concentrated, a considerable
quantity of vitriolic acid is obtained of the greatest pu¬
rity. As it has been carried over in distillation, it con¬
tains no foreign matter.
109. “The author attempted, but in vain, to dis¬
sipate the nitrous acid from the acid of vitriol by ebul¬
lition in an open vessel without concentration. The
experiment was made with 50 pounds of common vi¬
triolic acid and 60 of river water. This was kept
boiling in the copper bason for four days, water being
added from time to time to supply the loss by evapora¬
tion. The copper bason, by weighing before and after
the operation, had lost by solution no more than ten
drachms of copper. The acid was blue, but became
white as usual during the rectification in the retorts.
From this experiment, as the author observes, it is seen
not only that the nitrous acid cannot be dissipated by
simple ebullition without concentration, but that the
action of the vitriolic acid upon copper is extremely
slight.
no. “ The marine acid is to be disengaged from
common salt by the application of this vitriolic acid
in the usual manner. But as M. Bauine’s experi¬
ence led him to various simple manipulations and
remarks of importance, and more especially as he con¬
siders the description of this process as part of the
new art of bleaching silk, he has annexed it to his me--
moir.
in. “ The vitriolic acid obtained by the foregoing
process.
<57° ' , BLEACHING.-
Animal process being too concentrated, must be diluted in the ced with a small hole.
Substances, copper bason as before with river water. It is conve-
   nient to add 18 ounces of water to each pound of the
acid, because the marine acid is not wanted in a state of
high concentration. This mixture ought to give 35
or 36 degrees by Baume’s hydrometer; which last an¬
swers to a specific gravity of 1.333. When it is cold
it may be preserved in bottles for use.
112. “ In the next place, four pounds of marine salt
dried, because in that state it pours best, is to be put
into a retort of the capacity of five or six French pints,
or English quarts. This may be done by means of a
paper funnel, or a long-necked funnel of glass, which
must enter the body of the retort in order that the
neck may remain clean. A number of these must be
disposed on a gallery in two opposite rows, with the
necks properly enclosed and enveloped in sand as usual.
113. “ A bottle'or gauge being provided of such a
size as by previous experiment is known to hold four
pounds of the vitriolic acid before mentioned ; this
quantity of the acid must be measured into each of the
retorts by means of a curved funnel, the tube of which
may pass into the body, to prevent the acid being spill¬
ed in the neck. If nevertheless a few drops should fall,
no inconvenience will follow, as this pure acid is not de¬
trimental to the bleaching process.
114. “ The supports for the receivers are then to
be placed, and the receivers applied, each being pier-
Part II.
The junctures are to be made An( .
good with pasted paper, and the distillation begun. A Substances,
gradual heat is to be applied until the fluid boils gentlv. r—
The marine acid which first rises is volatile and expan¬
sible (f), and requires the small holes of the receiver to
be occasionally opened j but after one-fourth part of the
time of distillation the acid comes over freely, and the
vapours cease to be elastic.
115. “The distillation lasts two days: but it is
practicable to avoid sitting up the intermediate night.
The fire must be so managed that the contents of the
retort may be very liquid in the evening: if it begins to
thicken, there is reason to apprehend that it may be too
hard the next day ; in which case the heat will dilate
the concrete matter before it liquefies, and break the
containing vessel.
116. “ Towards the close of the distillation the mat¬
ter swells up considerably. When this happens, it is
proper to empty the receivers, and raise the retorts, that
more sand may flow in beneath them. When the mat¬
ter is dry, and nothing more comes over, the operation
is finished.
117. “Each retort affords five pounds of marine
acid, of the strength of 14 or 15 degrees ; specific
gravity 1.114. When the retorts are half cooled, one
pound of hot river water is to be poured into each, and
the distillation being resumed affords 24 ounces of the
same marine acid from each retort.”
or.
PART H. BLEACHING OF VEGETABLE SUBSTANCES.
118. THE composition of vegetable substances dif¬
fers materially from that of animal bodies in the propor¬
tions of the three principles which are common to both,
namely, oxygen, hydrogen, and carbon 5 and in wanting
for the most part azote, which in the latter acts so con¬
spicuous a part. The proportion of sulphur and phos¬
phorus is also exceedingly small in vegetables.
119. As in animals, the substances derived from ve¬
getable nature are formed by a peculiar process of se¬
cretion, from the nourishment which plants draw from
the bosom of the earth, which after being absorbed by
the roots, undergoes, in passing through the vessels of
the plant, new modifications, and enters into new com¬
binations.
120. By spontaneous decomposition the principles of
vegetables, as of other organized matter, are separated
and enter into new states. The hydrogen combines
with part of the oxygen to form water, while the rest
of this latter element, uniting with the carbon, generates
carbonic acid.
121. These changes are the natural effect of ex¬
posure to moisture, heat, and atmospheric air; and
upon the effect of these agents the chief dependence
has been till lately placed in the processes for dischai*-
ging the colour of vegetable substances. As the gra¬
dual improvement of the art of bleaching forms a plea¬
sing object of contemplation both to the scientific manu¬
facturer and the philosophic chemist, we shall, after say¬
ing something ol the nature and previous preparation of
the substances employed, endeavour to trace the steps
which have led to the present improved state of bleach-
ing, as it is in the linen and cotton manufactures that
this is more peculiarly apparent.
122. rlhe vegetable materials employed for clothing
are usually distinguished into two kinds, linen and cot¬
ton, the former being derived from hemp and flax, the
latter from the down of the cotton plant.
123. Of all the materials employed for clothing,
wool seems to have been the most ancient j and indeed
it was a natural and an easy step, from the skins of
beasts, to the use of the detached hair. Silk seems to
have been next in point of antiquity, and in a short
time the fibres of hemp and flax were had recourse to
for the same purposes. It is probable that the fibres of
hemp were first applied to the service of man as cor¬
dage or sails, or to make tents for sheltering the inha¬
bitant of the desert, or the soldier in the camp, as their
coarseness and superior strength would point them out
as
'Se li.
m j.
In, I 5.
mi
(f) It might be of advantage, even in the large way, to adapt a simple pneumatic apparatus to condense the
marine acid air in water, as is usual in philosophical processes.
Pal II.
ELEA
l>le as better fitted to these uses, and less adapted to the
ces. purposes of clothing than the finer and more delicate
fibres of flax.
124. The use of flax appears to have originated in
Egypt, and its introduction is attributed to Isis.
125. Cotton has probably been employed among
the Asiatics for a very long time : in Europe it was the
latest of all the materials of which clothing is manufac¬
tured.
126. On examining the stalks of hemp and flax
when they are pulled, we shall find them composed of
four distinct substances } a delicate bark, a green juice
or sap, the fibres which are to be employed in the ma¬
nufacture, matted or twisted together, and within these
the wood of the plant. As the fibres are thus enve¬
loped in useless matter, the first object is to separate
them, to peel off the bark, wash away the sap, and
strip the fibres from the wood. The two first of these
are effected by water and fermentation. The plants
tied in bundles are placed in water, and proper methods
taken to prevent their being carried away, if it be a
stream, which is frequently the case (g). In a short
time a fermentation begins to take place, which acts
both on the bark, which it loosens, and on the sap,
which it decomposes. It is necessary to be attentive not
to let the fermentation proceed too far, as we thereby
run the risk of injuring the texture of the fibres. As
soon then, as, on examining the plants, by rubbing them
between the hands, it be found that the wood breaks
easily, while the plants are still green, they must be re¬
moved from the water and spread out upon the grass to
dry.
In this operation, which is called watering the flax
or hemp, it is necessary to employ soft water j as it is
found that in hard water the fibres are much more readily
injured. To account for this, it must be remembered that
these waters owe their hardness to their containing a
quantity of an earthy salt* 5 and these salts are found
' to promote the process of putrefaction, particularly the
sulphate of lime or gypsum, which is the mostabundant
of these salts contained in hard waters.
127. The process of watering destroys the sap of the
plants by efl'ecting its decomposition. This sap is
lound to he composed chiefly of water, and what mo¬
dern chemists have called extractive : by fermentation
this extractive is separated into carbon, hydrogen, and
oxygen. It is probable also that the water of the sap,
as well as that in which the plants are steeped, is de¬
composed. These principles uniting again in different
proportions form carbonated hydrogen, which is the
cause of the offensive odour, and carbonic acid, which
is found to proceed from the plants. The exposure to
the air which they undergo, alter steeping, contributes
to the speedier escape of these principles.
After the drying the plants appear of a grayish
white colour, which is called by workmen a flaxen
gray.
128. One of the greatest advantages which modern
C H I N G. 671
chemistry has conferred on the manufacturer, is the Veuetable
enabling him to do the same work more completely in Substances,
a shorter time than by the usual processes. Of this ’
the present state of bleaching affords innumerable proofs.
Even this process of watering may be greatly improved
and considerably hastened. Several days are required
before the fermentation is carried to a sufficient length,
and with every attention, there is a chance of injuring
the material. But it is found that this process may be
performed by means of a weak alkaline ley without this
danger.
129. The method recommended, is to convey the
steam of water impregnated with caustic soda, in the
manner which will be described hereafter for the bleach¬
ing of cotton and linen, through the plants of hemp and
flax contained in a chamber of twenty or thirty feet
square. The expence is trifling, as the ley need not be
stronger than what was recommended for ungumming
and bleaching silk.
130. When the watering is completed, the plants
are to he kiln-dried. There now remains only the
woody part inclosed in the fibres: to separate these is
the object of the processes of beating and heckling.
This is either performed by mallets and a sort of wooden
anvils, and in this way hemp is beaten in houses of cor¬
rection ; or in mills erected for this purpose. In either
way the wood is broken so as to allow of its being more
easily detached from the fibres by heckling.
13 r. Ibis refuse should not be thrown away, as it
may be without much difficulty converted into paper.
132. Hie fibres are now ready for spinning and weav-
ing, operations which it belongs not to this article to de¬
scribe: we shall therefore take up the cloth as it proceeds
from the hands of the weaver, when it comes properly
under the direction of the bleacher.
I33* Tlje pieces of hempen and flaxen cloth, as they
come from the loom, are covered with a dry coating
of paste made of flour and water, which is called the
dressing. Ibis paste is applied to the threads of the
weaver, to render the stretching of them more easy 5
and its removal is the first object in every method of
bleaching.
134. For this purpose, all that is necessary is to steep
the pieces in water for about forty-eight hours. Some
manufacturers boil the pieces in the water, hut this is
improper, as the paste is not soluble in that fluid, even
•at the boiling temperature, hut must undergo a de¬
composition by fermentation. To effect this the water-
should be of a temperature from 6o° to 750 Fahren¬
heit 5 the fermentation then proceeds gradually, and the
cloth sustains no injury. After remaining for a sufficient
time, the pieces are taken out, and well rinsed in running
water, either by treading with the feet or passing them
under a fluted cylinder of wood.
135. By this operation the cloth is not only freed
from the paste, but it acquires a degree of whiteness,
and becomes of a lighter gray than before it was sub¬
jected to the water \ for by the fermentation the tex¬
ture
(g) It is very usual in Scotland to steep flax in burns or rivulets, as these are commonly found most conveni¬
ent 5 hut as the smell of the putrifying plants is intolerably offensive, and even unhealthy, and as the process is
found to destroy any fish that may inhabit the stream, the practice ought to be discouraged, and in some coun¬
tries is forbidden by the laws.
6“J2
Vegetable turg 0f tlie pieces is loosened, the threads swell, and
Substances. parj 0£ j.jie C0]0UrJng matter is decomposed.
136. The gray substance, which it is the principal
business of the bleacher to remove, is of a resinous na¬
ture *, and as the theory of the processes which we are
presently to describe depends on an intimate knowledge
of its properties, we shall be somewhat particular re¬
specting it.
137. Kirwan, to whom chemistry in all its depart¬
ments is so highly indebted, has submitted this matter
to a set of ingenious experiments.
He procured from the bleach grounds a quantity of
what the workmen called dead ley, which is the alka¬
line ley in which cloth had been steeped, and is con¬
sequently charged in abundance with the colouring mat¬
ter. He found this liquor to be turbid, of a bluish red
colour, having a peculiar taste, and a strong odour.
It possessed neither alkaline nor acid properties.
138. To five pints of this liquor he added two oun¬
ces of weak muriatic acid, or spirit of salt $ no effer¬
vescence was produced, but a considerable quantity of
greenish matter fell to the bottom, and the liquor above
remained of a reddish amber colour.
139. He next day, by means of a syphon, decanted
off the supernatant liquor from the green precipitate,
upon which he poured two pints of distilled water, stir¬
red them well together, and allowed the matter again
to subside : he then decanted off the water, and added
a like quantity of fresh. This water still exhibited
strong marks of acidity, and was of a reddish colour.
He could not believe that after the addition of so much
water, this acidity could arise from the muriatic acid
which he had employed, as this was scarcely more than
sufficient to saturate the alkali, which the liquor had
originally held in composition. He concluded there¬
fore that the liquor had contained a peculiar acid,
which from its weaker affinity with the alkali, had been
separated from it by the muriatic acid. He set apart
two pints of this for farther experiments.
140. After successive washings of the precipitate, till
it no longer appeared to retain any acid, he threw
it on a filter : after being dried for some time, it became
a tenacious mass of a greenish colour.
141. A very small portion of it was thrown into 60
times its weight of boiling water, but not a particle ap¬
peared to be dissolved. The remainder was dried in a
sand-bath, after which it was brittle, of a glossy black
without, and internally of a dull green : it weighed
about an ounce and a half.
142. From eight pints more of the dead ley, he ob¬
tained a larger quantity of this green matter, on which
he made the following experiments :
1. A portion of it was digested with rectified alco¬
hol $ a reddish tincture was produced, and a consider¬
able part of the matter was dissolved; but on the addi¬
tion of distilled water, the solution became milky, and
a white precipitate gradually subsided. The black
mass obtained in the former experiment, gave the same
results.
2. These two matters were digested for a long time
in linseed oil and essential oil of turpentine, but were
not dissolved in either.
3. The black matter thrown on red-hot coals, burned
with a yellow flame, and emitted a black smoke, leaving
behind a coaly matter.
Part II, P;
4. The green matter exposed to the action of sulpha- ve f, a
ric, muriatic, and nitric acids, gave a brown tinge toSubSe! !.i >'
the former, and a green to the latter. ■* “
143. It is pretty evident from these experiments, that
the extractive matter of the fibres of flax, which is ob¬
tained from them by the action of alkalies, is a resin of
a peculiar nature, differing from pure resins in its being
insoluble in essential oils, and in this respect having some
resemblance to lacs.
144. Kirwan thought it necessary to try the action
of alkalies on this matter. Eight grains were digested
in a saturated solution of crystallized soda, at the tem¬
perature of 6o° Fahrenheit, which was immediately
tinged of a deep brown colour. Two measures of this
solution of soda, weighing each 265 grains, did not en¬
tirely dissolve the matter, but two measures of a solu¬
tion of potash dissolved the whole.
A measure of caustic soda of the specific gravity
1.053, dissolved nearly the whole, leaving a small quan¬
tity of a white substance.
A measure of caustic potash of the specific gravity
I.039 dissolved the whole.
A measure of an alkaline sulphuret or liver of sul¬
phur, of the specific gravity 1.170, also dissolved the
•whole.
A measure of ammonia dissolved a small portion of it.
145. These experiments were sufficient to satisfy Mr
Kirwan; but, for the purposes of the manufacturer, he
judged it proper to repeat them with the ordinary sa¬
line substances employed in bleaching, and with soap.
He therefore dissolved an ounce of the soda of com¬
merce, and as much Dantzic potash, each in six ounces
of distilled water ; he added eight grains to an ounce
measure of each solution, and allowed them to digest
together in a temperature of 1800 Fahrenheit for three
hours and a half. At the end of this period it was
found that more was dissolved in the potash than in the
soda, and an ounce of this latter was required to com¬
plete the solution, whereas this was effected by the ad¬
dition of half an ounce of the Dantzic potash liquor;
thus shewing the superiority of the potash over
soda.
An ounce of white soap was dissolved in eighteen
ounces of distilled water ; the solution remained turbid,
and could be rendered transparent only by bringing it
to the boiling heat, an operation which he found ex¬
tremely difficult; for when the fluid was near boiling,
it was thrown out to a distance of more than three feet
from the matrass. After completing the solution, he
found that three ounces of it were required to dissolve
eight grains of the colouring matter.
146. In forming an accurate idea of the comparative
effect of these solutions, it must be observed, that an
ounce of the soda of commerce contains only 114
grains of pure soda, and consequently, supposing the
solution to have been made as above, in six ounces of
water, each ounce will contain 19 grains of soda, while
an ounce of the solution of Dantzic potash contains
fifty grains.
147. He tried the effect of lime on the colouring
matter, on which it produced little effect ; three ounces
of water saturated with lime were employed, which con¬
tain at most three grains of that earth.
148. Having been so full on the nature and previous
preparation of flax and hemp, it remains only to say
something
BLEACHING.
i II. • B L E A
liable something on cotton before we proceed to the bleaching
sttieei. of these substances.
'T" ■' 149. Cotton is a filamentous substance or down, which
is found surrounding the seeds of the cotton plant.
This substance, as it is first obtained from the plant,
is covered with a brownish coloured matter, by which
it is rendered dirty and opaque. This matter is of
a greasy nature, in which it resembles the oil contained
in wool, as is evident from the slowness with which
raw cotton imbibes water, and the avidity with which
it attracts it after having been scoured. Scouring, by
removing this greasy matter, also renders it clear and
transparent.
1150. There is considerable variety in the quality of
cottons, arising from their different kinds, the climate
in which they were produced, and the degree of cul¬
ture which they received. They are sometimes of a
yellow colour, sometimes white, but most commonly
their colour is a dirty yellow.
151. The bleaching of cotton does not call for those
preparatory operations which we have described as ne¬
cessary for hemp and flax. It is first to be scoured by
steeping it in a slight alkaline solution, or, what is bet¬
ter, by exposing it to the vapour bath in the manner
which we shall soon direct. After this operation, the
cotton is to be placed in baskets in the stream of a
river or other running water, so as to be well rin¬
sed.
152. After the immersion of cotton in an alkaline
ley, there is always left, however completely it be
rinsed, a small quantity of an earthy sediment. This
may be removed by the cautious use of acids. We
know that cotton bears the action of acids much bet-
Iter than either hemp or flax, and that it may remain
exposed to them for some time without injury. Ad¬
vantage has been taken of so fortunate a discovery, and
it is found, that by keeping the cotton for a short time
pressed down in a very weak solution of sulphuric acid
and subsequent thorough washing, to remove all the
acid, this earthy sediment may be completely re¬
moved.
153. The methods which have been employed or re¬
commended for the bleaching of hemp, flax, and cotton,
may be reduced to five, viz.
1st, By the action of the atmospheric air, assisted by
alkalies and soaps.
2d, By the action of water only.
3d, By the action of the oxygenated muriatic acid,
or dephlogisticated marine acid of Scheele : and this
method may be resolved into four ; according as the
' acid is employed in its simple state of combination with
water, or in combination with other matters.
a,- By the action of oxy-muriatic acid alone.
b, By the action of oxy-muriatic acid combined with
potash.
c, By the action of oxy muriatic acid combined with
lime or other earths.
d. By the action of oxy-muriatic acid combined with
•ulphuret of lime.
4th, By the action of diluted sulphuric acid.
5th, By the action of steam impregnated with cau¬
stic alkali, or by employing this alternately with the
bxymuriats. Of these we shall treat in the above or¬
der.
Vol. III. Part II.
C H I N G.
I. Of Bleaching by the Action of Atmospheric Air.
I54* This is the method which was commonly adopt¬
ed till within these twenty years, and is still retained in
some old manufactories. After steeping the cloth, as
has been related (i34*)» remove the weaver’s dress¬
ing, the pieces are dried in the field, and then submit¬
ted to the operation of bucking.
For this purpose a ley is prepared by dissolving a
quantity of potashes in soft water, and boiling it for
about half an hour, when it is allowed to settle, and
forms what is called the mother ley. For bucking, this
mother ley is weakened by the addition of 16 or 18
times its bulk of water} and to this is generally added
a quantity of soap, or, for the sake of economy, a few
gallons of ley which has already been employed for the
first buckings. This liquor, which has been called the
bucking ley, is now heated to about 100 degrees, and
poured on the pieces sorted according to their quality.
After pressing the cloth well down in the ley, it is
drawn off, heated a little higher, and again poured up¬
on the cloth. This operation is repeated at intervals,
allowing the ley to remain longer each succeeding time,
and moderately increasing the heat to the bucking tem¬
perature, for five or six hours. Then the cloth is left
steeping for three or four hours, when it is taken out,
well rinsed, and carried to the field.
155. Here it is spread out upon the grass and secured
by pins ; water is sprinkled on it so as not to allow it to
become dry for some hours. After it has lain about
Jialf a day the watering is less frequent, and at night it
is left to the full action of the air and dews. On the
succeeding days it is watered three or four times a-day
if the weather be dry, and thus it remains on the field
till the air seem to have less effect in whitening. It is
then brought back to the coppers, and bucked again
with a ley somewhat stronger than the last, rinsed, and
again spread out on the field. It is thus alternately
bucked and watered 10 or 15 times according to the
weather, making the bucking stronger and stronger
till about the middle, and then weaker and weaker till
the last, after which it undergoes the process of scour¬
ing or steeping in some acid liquor.
156. The acid which has been usually employed in
the process of scouring is generated by the fermenta¬
tion of bran and water } or, where the bleachfield was
in the neighbourhood of a dairy, sour whey was used
for this purpose. It has been found that a very weak
solution of sulphuric acid is more convenient and not
more injurious than these, and this is now generally
employed. The cloths are steeped in the souring for
five or six days, if it be formed of milk or bran, or a
less time where the sulphuric acid is used, and they
are then given to the washers to be rubbed with soap,
which is more particularly necessary to the selvages, as
these resist the action of the air and alkalies longer than
the rest of the cloth.
157. After being well soaped, the cloth is again
bucked in a strong ley, rinsed, and again watered and
exposed to the air, and all these processes are repeated
in succession till it has acquired the requisite degree of
whiteness. It must be observed that the strength of
the acid liquors is diminished at each succeeding im¬
mersion.
4 Q 158. The
673
Vegeta Me
Substances.
' '
f
6y4
Vegetable
Substances
BLEACHING.
*Vide Big-
gins'sEssay
on Bteach-
?■ £3-
158. The theory of these operations was, till lately,
very little understood, but it admits of an easy expla¬
nation by the principles of modern chemistry. It has
been proved, as will be shewn in chemistry, that the air
ot the atmosphere consists principally of two airs or
gasses, oxygen gas or vital air, and azotic gas, in the
proportion of about .23 of the former to .77 of the lat¬
ter. lire only active principle in most of the opera¬
tions of art and nature appears to be the oxygen, and
this uniting with various inflammable bodies produces
acids. Now the colouring matter of cloth is a com¬
pound inflammable matter or resin, composed chiefly of
carbon (the base of charcoal), and hydrogen (the
base of hydrogenous gas or inflammable air). As has
been shewn, this is partly soluble in alkalies j hence the
use of the alkaline leys in bucking is to dissolve as
much as possible ol the colouring matter; but, as the
action of the alkali extends only to the surface of the
cloth, it is soon over. The subsequent exposure to the
air promotes the union of the carbon and hydrogen
with the oxygen of the atmosphere, producing carbonic
acid gas, or fixed air, and water.
When it was the fashion to denominate every com¬
bination of oxygen with an inflammable substance, com¬
bustion, this was considered as a species of burning*.
159. The great objection to this method of bleach¬
ing is its tediousness, two or three months being requisite
to give the cloth the necessary whiteness. The simpli¬
city of it, and the little apparatus it requires, recommend
it however on some occasions, and accordingly it is em¬
ployed by those country people who make their own
cloth, particularly in Scotland.
The bucking of coarse cloths is expedited by boiling
them in the ley, but this is seldom required for the finer
kinds.
II. Bleac/wtg by Water only.
160. We have observed (135.), that during the pro¬
cess of steeping, the cloth acquires some degree of white¬
ness ; and it was long ago remarked, that the pulp
from which paper is formed, while acted on by the
stampers, was rendered whiter than before ; it is found
too, when the stalks of hemp and flax remain too long
in the water in which they are steeped, they become
considerably whiter, while, however, their texture is
much injured. A manufacturer of Amiens, M. Brasse,
conceived that, by cautious management, he might
turn these facts to account, and bleach by means of wa¬
ter alone, which would be certainly one of the most
economical methods. He allowed the hemp (for to
this his experiments seem to have been confined) to re¬
main steeping till the bark was pretty much destroyed by
the fermentation. He then drew it through the teeth
of a heckle or comb, which easily tore away the half
putrid bark, permitting the fibres to pass uninjured be¬
tween the teeth. During this process the hemp was per¬
petually immersed in water, by which means the green
bark was much more easily separated, and the fibres
acquired a much greater degree of brilliancy. Indeed,
-the whiteness produced in this way is truly surprising,
and it is much to be regretted, that this cannot be ob¬
tained without injuring the quality of the cloth, which
is prepared from the hemp thus treated. By this ope¬
ration, however, the hemp does not acquire so pure a
Part II.
white as to render unnecessary the other processes, but v
by it these would be greatly shortened. Sub!tanm
161. As it is a matter of the greatest consequence to ' ^
the bleacher, to be perfectly acquainted witlvthe nature
of the substances which he employs, as well as the most
economical and convenient methods of procuring or
purifying them, w'e shall take an opportunity, in the
course ol this article, of treating these subjects pretty
fully. There is no material which has been more ex¬
tensively employed in bleaching than potash or pot¬
ashes.
162. If a pile of wood, or a heap of land-plants to¬
lerably dry, be kindled and burned in the open air till
the whole is consumed, there remains a considerable
quantity of ashes, which on being boiled in water, im¬
part to this fluid a strong saline taste, and give it the
property of tinging syrup of violets, or any blue ve¬
getable infusion, of a green colour. It was long ago
known, that this liquor, thus impregnated, possessed the
valuable property of facilitating the removal of dirt and
grease from cloth or linen, and with these views it has
been employed from time immemorial ; and is still used
for this purpose by the country people. At length it was
discovered, that by driving off the water by evaporation,
the useful part of the liquor might be obtained in the
form of a whitish solid substance, which being thus
rendered capable of being carried to any distance, or
kept in a dry place to any length of time, was much
more convenient than the liquor itself. It is said that
the Germans were the first who procured this salt in the
solid state from the ashes of wood ; and as it was prepar¬
ed by boiling in iron pots, it received the name of potash
or potashes.
163. Potashes have long been a considerable and
lucrative article of commerce, and a great quantity is
annually imported into the British empire, for the
purposes of several manufactures, but particularly for the
process of bleaching. The greatest quantity is brought
from Russia and America, and of these the American
is considered as the best. Good potashes should be
very soluble in water, and should leave a small quanti¬
ty of sediment, and they should have the property of
easily deliquescing or becoming moist when freely ex¬
posed to the air. But as the sale of potashes is extreme¬
ly extensive and beneficial, it has been found con¬
venient to the vender to increase their bulk by the ad¬
dition of some other substance which he can procure at
a cheaper rate ; it is therefore of much importance that
the manufacturer should be able to detect this imposi¬
tion, which he will not find a difficult matter.
164. The ashes of most plants, besides the alkaline
salt, which is more properly called potass, and of which
we shall speak presently, contain a compound salt, for¬
med of this potass united to sulphuric acid, called sul-
phat of potass. This salt is an injurious addition to
the potass, as it possesses po detergent properties, and is
very little soluble in water, one part requiring 16 of
water at an ordinary temperature to dissolve it. This
salt is sometimes added to the potass by the merchant
or the manufacturer to increase its bulk, and as it is a
very cheap article in comparison with potass, the adul¬
teration turns out very profitable.
“ During amineralogical excursion through England,”
says Mr Higgins, “ in the summer and autumn of the
year
’art IT.
/t-(metallic
Hbitaiices
B L E A
year 1785, the different manufactures which fell in my
way were not passed over. Upon inquiring of the di-
   stiilers of aquafortis (nitrous acid) how they disposed of
the large residuum left in the still, which is sulphat of
potash, and which is of little or no use in the arts, they
informed me it was bought up by the Irish merchants.
“ Sulphat of potash, when ground down, cannot
readily be distinguished as to its external appearance,
from pearl-ash, and being so much cheaper than the
latter, is well calculated for the above fraudulent pur¬
pose.
“ By no means do I intimate that this is a common
practice, as from experience I know the contrary.
“ However, to pass it over in silence would be un¬
pardonable, when it is considered that the bleacher is
at the expence of an article of no use whatever in
bleaching, and that, by the adulteration, the propor¬
tion best known by experience to answer his purpose, is
varied; by which means his process, although not alto-
ITiggms gether frustrated, must be materially retarded*.”
% Bleach- rf|ie difficult solubility of sulphat of potash ren-
*?> P* I4> ders it easy to separate it from the pure alkaline salt.
Higgins gives the following method.
“ Three pounds of pearl ash, and two quarts (a
Scotch pint) of water, should boil together for a few
minutes, then be removed from the fire and suffered to
stand for twenty-four hours, when the clear liquor is to
be decanted off. Half a pint more of cold water is to be
poured upon the dregs, and this again drawn off when
clear. The insoluble salt is afterwards to be well dried
and weighed, which being a foreign salt, will give pret¬
ty nearly the quantity of impurities in the potash.
“ I would recommend the above mode of analysis
to the bleachers before they purchase or use this pot-
J5. p. 15. ash +.”
166. Though the potash in the state in which it is
sold answers sufficiently well for many purposes, it is
not, however, pure potash, but is a compound salt
formed of this united to carbonic acid, or fixed air,
and it is called by modern chemists carbonat of potash.
It is necessary for some processes to have it in the pure
and caustic state, in which it acts much more power¬
fully. The carbonic acid is carried off by means of
lime, for which it has a greater affinity than for pot¬
ash. For this purpose a quantity of quicklime fresh
burnt is to be slaked with soft water in a wooden or
iron pot, and afterwards the potash is to be added dis¬
solved in water, after being purified in the manner a-
bove directed. They must stand together well covered
from the air for some hours, frequently shaking the ves¬
sel, and then the fluid may be drawn off clear for use.
This is commonly called soap-leys, as it is used in the
manufacture of soft soap ; it is called caustic alkali^
from the violent action which it exerts on animal and
vegetable matters, which it corrodes or burns very
speedily ; whereas the action of carbonat of potash is
much less violent, and this is therefore distinguished by
the name of mild alkali. The use of the caustic ley
requires great caution, but when sufficiently diluted it
is perfectly safe.
167. It is proper to remark here, for the sake of ma¬
nufacturers who are not scientific chemists, that the
lime is of no farther use here than taking the carbonic
acid from the potash, by uniting with which it is con¬
verted into chalk ©r carbonat of lime. rihe effect
C H I N G.
675
which the lime has in rendering the alkali caustic, was Ve^etnbi
long known to manufacturers, and they were led to sup- Substan
pose that it entered as an ingredient into the soap ley,
and was itself useful as a detergent substance. This
capital error led some into the employment of quick¬
lime in bleaching without any addition, by which
means the texture of the cloth was greatly injured.
168. As potash is the alkali which has been most
employed in bleaching, we have mentioned it first ;
there is, however, another of still greater consequence
in most manufactures, and which deserves our particu¬
lar attention, from its being employed in the method
of bleaching by steam, to be described hereafter. This
is called soda or mineral alkali.
When sea-weed or wrack, and several plants which
grow on the sea-coasts, particularly several species of
salsola and salicornia, are burned, the ashes form an im¬
pure alkaline mass of a different nature from that pro¬
duced by the burning of land plants. What is obtain¬
ed on our coasts from the sea-weed is called kelp, and
that which is brought from the continent, especially
from Spain, is called barilla, or barilha. The latter
is the purer of the two, and is generally employed in
the manufacture of soap. When these masses are redu¬
ced to powder, boiled in water, and the liquor filtered,
sufficiently evaporated and set by to cool, a quantity of
large beautiful crystals are obtained, which are carbo*
nat of soda, or salt of soda.
169. The soda, as contained in barilla, is in a much
more caustic state, or less of it is combined with car¬
bonic acid, than potash in the raw state ; neither of
these alkalies will crystallize in the caustic state, but by
standing for some time freely exposed to the atmosphere,
they imbibe from it carbonic acid gas, and are then
capable of crystallization. It is therefore necessary to
allow the solution obtained from barilla or kelp to stand
thus exposed for about a vreek. It must then be eva¬
porated to a proper degree, determined by experience
or by the areometer for salts, and set by to crystallize.
To make sure of obtaining crystals, which it is not al¬
ways easy to procure, it would be better to evaporate
to dryness, then dissolve the dry mass in the least pos¬
sible quantity of boiling water, and, on cooling, crystals
will be formed.
170. Soda, as existing in barilla and kelp, is some¬
times contaminated by the mixture of muriat of soda,
or common salt, from which it may be freed by careful
evaporation. Carbonat of soda is less soluble in cold
than in hot water, while the solubility of muriat of
soda is much the same in both. After obtaining the
first crop of crystals, therefore, which will be pure car¬
bonat of soda, the remainder of the solution must be
gently evaporated to about one half, when part of the
muriat will separate and remain at the bottom of the ves¬
sel : the hot liquor is now to be poured off from it and
set by to cool ; when a fresh crop of crystals will be ob¬
tained, and thus the remainder is to be successively treat¬
ed till all the soda is procured, and all the salt separated.
171. For most purposes of the manufacturer, soda is
required in its caustic state, and for this purpose, the car¬
bonic acid is removed by means of qu;ck-hme. But as
barilla contains most of it in a state sufficiently caustic for
the ordinary purposes of the bleacher, he is seldom at the
pains of purifying it. The usual way is to tie up a quan¬
tity of powdered barilla in a thick canvas bag, which
4 Q 2 is
676
BLEACHING.
Venable is suspended in the copper in which the cloth is boiled.
Substances. A sufficient quantity of the soda is thus dissolved in the
'■“'•‘"v* ‘ water, and imbibed by the cloth, while the insoluble
dregs remain behind in the canvas bag. For the finer
cloths, however, and for the purposes of bleaching with
vapour impregnated with caustic soda, it would be much
better to obtain the soda in its purest form.
172. Soap is an article of the utmost importance to
the bleacher, and which we are naturally led to consi¬
der after speaking of potash and soda.
These alkalies readily combine with vegetable oils
and animal fat, and on this property is founded the
manufacture of the detersive substances denominated
soaps. There is a difference sufficiently marked be¬
tween the soap produced by the union of fatty matters
with soda, and that formed from their union with pot¬
ash. The former combination produces a hard, the
latter a soft soap. The invention of this valuable sub¬
stance is attributed by Pliny to the Gauls. The ori¬
ginal composition of soap seems to have been much the
same in all ages, but the first attempts to make it ap¬
pear to have been extremely rude. The ancients form¬
ed their soap of goats fat mixed with the ashes of beech.
Various improvements have been successively and gra¬
dually introduced into the manufacture, in proportion
as accident, the parent of the most important disco¬
veries, pointed out their necessity.
173. In France two kinds of soap are manufactured j
hard, formed of soda, combined with olive-oil, and
soft, composed of potash and vegetable oils, of inferior
quality.
In Hungary and some parts of Germany, soap is
made of tallow and barilla. A hard soap is prepared
in Russia of bad salt butter, but it is held in little esti¬
mation, as the rancidity of the butter, and the quan¬
tity of cheesy matter which it contains, contribute to
render it of a very inferior quality. We are informed
by Weiglib that they also form a very hard soap of
yellow and white bees wax, which has a very agree¬
able smell of almonds.
174. In Britain, where vegetable oils are by no
means plentiful, and are consequently expensive, they
manufacture this soap entirely with animal fat, employ¬
ing either tallow, fish oil, kitchen grease, or stale but¬
ter. There are four kinds of soap manufactured here.
I. A hard white soap formed of soda of Alicant, and
of Varech, combined with tallow. 2. A marbled soap,
made of soda, tallow, and kitchen grease: the mar¬
bling is produced, not by a metallic oxide, as is the case
in France, but by mixing a little ley towards the end
of the boiling with the whole matter, drawing off the
surplus to prevent the marbled part from setting, and
then quickly conveying the soap into the frames to
cool suddenly; this is at least the way in which the
red marbled soap is made with us, but the motled ap¬
pearance in the blue marbled wash-balls is said to be
* Morthly, occasioned by indigo*. 3. A hard yellow soap compos-
Mag. for ed of soda, tallow, and rosin, which last seems to be
laljr iSoj. added to make the soap cheaper, as it certainly does
not increase its detersive property ; and indeed it is
said that the use of rosin is very injurious both to the
Part II.
arms and hands of the washers who employ this soap, y
which it irritates exceedingly, and to the linen washed’Substance*,
with it, to which it gives a yellow colour. 4. A soft y ^
soap, formed of whale or other fish oil combined with
potash.
175. Attempts were long made to discover substan¬
ces, which might supply the place of these fatty mat¬
ters, in the manufacture of soap. It was reserved for
Chaptal to point out the road to this valuable end, by
introducing his soap formed of wool, and thus convert¬
ing scraps of cloth and pieces of old woollen garments,
into an excellent soap. He has been followed in Bri¬
tain by Sir John Dalrymple, who conceived, that by a
process similar to Chaptal’s he might form a soap of
the muscular parts of the fat fish. Some successful
experiments completely proved the justice of the
idea (h).
III. Of Bleaching by the Oxygenated Muriatic Acid.
i*]6. The muriatic acid (see Chemistry), or spirit
of salt, is not proved to contain oxygen, to which most
other acids appear to owe their acidity. It is, however,
capable of combining with this principle, by the ad¬
dition of which it acquires new and very extraordi¬
nary properties. It will take oxygen from most of the
metallic oxides or calces, as red lead, or, what is more
commonly employed, the black oxide of manganese.
If the muriatic acid be digested for some time, over
either of these oxides, it acquires a most penetrating
and suffocating odour, and instead of reddening a blue
vegetable infusion, it banishes the colour altogether.
It is this latter property of destroying colours, which
renders the oxygenated muriatic acid of such import¬
ance in bleaching.
For the discovery of this acid, we are indebted to
the immortal Scheele of Sweden, who was also acquaint¬
ed with its property of discharging vegetable colours.
The true application of this property, however, to the
purposes of bleaching we owe to M. Berthollet, of
whose paper in the annals of chemistry, {Annales de Cki-
mie,') we shall present a brief abstract, as this was the
foundation of all those improvements which have been
lately made in the art, and of which we are presently
to speak.
177. The oxygenated muriatic acid is obtained in
the form of an air or gas, and was procured by Scheele
in the following manner. He put a quantity of black
oxide of manganese reduced to powder, into a glass re¬
tort, and poured on it some muriatic acid. To the re¬
tort he fixed a receiver, capable of holding twelve oun¬
ces ; but containing only two drachms of water. On
placing the retort in a sand bath, so that any acid which
came over unchanged might fall back, and applying
heat, the receiver was soon filled with a yellow-colour¬
ed gas. Having filled one receiver, he applied others
successively, till no more gas was extricated, or till he
had obtained sufficient for his experiments.
178. The experiments made by Scheele to ascertain
the nature and property of this acid were few and sim¬
ple he suspended several substances in the necks of the
receivers, and observed the following facts.
1. The
(h) For a lull account of the manufacture of this soap, vide Annalos des Arts et Manufactures, par O’Reilly.
’art II* B L E A
/egetable ir The corks which closed the mouths of the vessels
“bstanccs. w[,jc]1 Contained the gas, were rendered yellow, as if
" * they had been corroded by nitric acid (aquafortis).
2. Paper tinged blue, with infusion of litmus or tourn-
sol, was rendered nearly white. 3. The red, blue, and
yellow parts of flowers, as well as the green leaves of
vegetables, were by the action of the gas rendered pale
and colourless. 4^ When those changes were produ¬
ced by the action of water,, by which this gas had been
absorbed, the water was changed into very weak com¬
mon muriatic acid. 5. Neither acids nor alkalies
were capable of restoring the original colours thus
changed.
179. Berthollet repeated and confirmed these ex¬
periments of Scheele’s, and explained the theory of the
changes produced by the action of this new substance.
u I have shown,” says he, “ that one portion of the
common muriatic acid employed in the preparation dis¬
solves the oxyd of manganese, and displaces a part of
the oxygen, or basis of vital air, which was, in that
substance, combined with the metal in larger propor¬
tion than is necessary for enabling it to be dissolved in
acids. This superabundant and now disengaged oxy¬
gen being in a non-elastic form, or, as Priestley calls
it, in a nascent state, and being thereby greatly disposed
to enter into new combination, unites itself to the other
portion of the muriatic acid, and, in consequence of
this union, the oxygenated muriatic acid gas is pro¬
duced.”
Having examined and explained the experiments
of Scheele, Berthollet goes on to make others of his
own.
180. His first object was to examine the degree of
solubility of the gas in water, which he suspected to be
.greater than Scheele had supposed.
181. “ He soon perceived, if a body with a recurved
tube be filled with this water, impregnated with the
dephlogisticated or oxygenated muriatic acid, and the
outer extremity of the tube be immersed under a re¬
ceiver filled with water 5 if, in this situation, the fluid
be exposed to the light of the sun, bubbles are soon
disengaged, which pass into the receiver, and are found
to consist of pure or vital air. When the bubbles have
ceased to be disengaged, the liquor is found to have
lost its characteristic smell, colour, and all its distinctive
properties j and is found to consist of mere water, con¬
taining a proportion of common muriatic acid. This
simple experiment, M. Berthollet observes, ought to
be sufficient to afford a conviction, that the oxygena¬
ted muriatic acid is really nothing but a combination
of the muriatic acid with basis of vital air, or oxygen,
which is found so abundantly in the black oxyd or
calx of manganese, that nothing more is necessary than
to urge this oxyd by a strong heat, in order to ob¬
tain a large quantity. Manganese, thus treated, is no
Jonger proper to form the oxygenated muriatic acid *,
because it is deprived of that portion of oxygen which
is required to combine with part of the muriatic:
acid.
182. “ He remarks, that light possesses the property
of disengaging the oxygen which was combined with
the muriatic acid, by restoring that elasticity of which
it was partly deprived ; a restoration not to be effected
by mere heat; he concludes therefore that the light
•omhioee with the oxygen, and that the elastic, state
J H I N G. ' 677
of vital air is owing to this combination : which air, Vegetable
by losing a second time its elasticity in the process ofSubstnuccs.
combustion, that is to say, by a rapid combination with ' J »' " 1
some other body, again suffers the principle of light to
escape, at the same time that much heat is disengaged ;
the relation of which last substance with light is still an
object for future discovery.
183. “ If vegetable colours be plunged in the oxy¬
genated muriatic acid, they disappear more or less
speedily, and more or less perfectly. When the sub¬
stance under examination possesses a mixture of differ¬
ent colouring parts, some disappear more readily, and
leave only those which more effectually resist the power
of this agent, but have nevertheless suffered a consider¬
able alteration. The yellow colouring matters usual¬
ly resist the most strongly, but at length they all dis¬
appear j and when the oxygenated muriatic acid has
exerted its whole action, it is found to be reduced to
the state of ordinary muriatic acid. Hence it follows,
that the colouring matters have deprived it of its oxy¬
gen, or vital air j and have, by this combination, ac¬
quired new properties, at the same time that they have
lost that of producing colours. This ingenious che¬
mist declines entering, in his present memoir, into the
properties of these oxygenated substances j and pro¬
ceeds to observe, that the oxygenated muriatic acid
owes its property of destroying colours to the oxygen,
which not only is combined abundantly with it, but
likewise adheres with very little force, and readily passes
into a state of combination with such substances as have
a certain degree of ^affinity with it. The habitudes of
such a variety of colouring matters as exist in na¬
ture, with the oxygen, with light, with alkalies, and
with other chemical agents, cannot but form a highly
interesting, and almost entirely unexplored, part of na¬
tural philosophy.
184. “ After having observed the action which the
oxygenated muriatic acid exercises in general upon co¬
louring matter, he concluded that it might produce the
same effect upon those substances which colour thread <
and linen, and which the art of bleaching proposes to
destroy. Without confining himself to describe the pro¬
cess as now practised, he enters into a concise detail of
the imperfect essays he made at first, a detail which will
be by no means without its utility, to such as are desir¬
ous of carrying the process into execution.
185. “ He at first used a very concentrated liquor,
which he renewed when exhausted, until the thread orr
cloth appeared sufficiently white j but in this way, he-
soon perceived that their texture was considerably
weakened, and that they were even entirely deprived 1
of their solidity. He therefore slightly diluted the
liquor, and succeeded in bleaching his cloth, without
altering it $ but it soon became yellow by keeping, and
more especially when it was heated, or subjected to
the action of an alkaline lixivium. He directed his
reflections, therefore, to the circumstances of the usual
process of bleaching, which he endeavoured to imitate j
because he had adopted the opinion, that the oxygena¬
ted muriatic acid ought to act in the same manner as
the exposure of cloth upon bleach-grounds 5 which ex¬
posure alone is not sufficient for the purpose, but ap¬
pears merely to dispose the colouring matter to solution
in the alkali of lixiviums. He examined the dew-
which is precipitated from the atmosphere, and like¬
wise
678
Vegetable wise that which is afforded by the nocturnal transpira-
Substances.' tion ot plants 5 and observed that both the one and the
v other were saturated with oxygen to such a degree, as
to destroy the colour of paper weakly tinged with tourn-
sol 5 and he remarks that the ancient prejudices respect¬
ing May dew, which is the season wherein the transpira¬
tion of plants is abundant, might probablv depend on
some observation of this nature.
186. “ Pie therefore employed, alternately, the lixi-
viums, and the action of the oxygenated muriatic acid *,
by which means he obtained a permanent white. And
as it is the practice, in the ordinary way of bleaching, to
pass the cloth through sour milk, or vitriolic acid, dilu¬
ted with a large quantity of water, he made the trial
likewise of passing his cloths through a very diluted so¬
lution of vitriolic acid, and observed that the white was
much brighter.
187. “ As soon as he had made use of the interme¬
diate lixiviums, he found that it was not necessary to
use a concentrated liquor, or to leave the cloth long in
the fluid at each immersion. By this observation he
avoided two inconveniences, which might have render¬
ed the process impracticable in the large way: the
first is, the suffocating smell of the fluid, which would
be very incommodious, and even highly dangerous to
be respired for a long time, and which has discouraged
several operators from pursuing their attempts in this
way : the second is, the danger of weakening the cloth.
At this period of his experiments he likewise gave up
the idea of mixing alkali with the oxygenated muriatic
acid, as he had before done in most of his experi¬
ments *.
188. “ This was the state of the experiments of this
excellent chemist when he repeated them in the pre¬
sence of the celebrated Mr Watt. A single glance,
he observes, is sufficient to a philosopher whose abilities
had been so long exercised upon the arts. Mr Watt
soon afterwards wrote to him from England, that in
his first operation he had bleached 500 pieces of cloth
on the premises of Mr Grigor, who has large bleach-
grounds at Glasgow, and continues to use this new pro¬
cess.
189. “ In the mean time M. Bonjour, who had as¬
sisted M. Bertbollpt in his experiments, and who to a
large share of sagacity has added a very extensive
knowledge in chemistry, entered into an agreement
with Mr Constant of Valenciennes to form an establish¬
ment in that town. The project was opposed by the
prejudices and interest of the bleachers, who were ap¬
prehensive of the competition of a new method. Mr
Constant could not even procure a piece of ground
in the town of Valenciennes: but the Count de Be-
lainge favoured this enterprise, and gave up a piece of
ground which possessed every advantage j but, being
at a certain distance from Valenciennes, would have
the disadvantage of distance, if any manufactory should
be established at Valenciennes itself. M. Bonjour had
given up the well-grounded hopes which his know¬
ledge and talents gave him reason to expect at Paris :
and had in return found, in the enterprise to which he
had devoted his attention, nothing but those disgust¬
ing circumstances which usually accompany new pro¬
cesses in the arts. He addressed himself to the Bu¬
reau de Commerce, not to reward his services,
BLEACHING
* Journal
da Phus.
1785.
Part IT,
but to request that he might he defended from Ve-et
the disadvantages and obstacles which prejudice and SuhsuL!
an opposition of interest had created in Valenci- ' ir*—'
ennes, by granting to him a certain space of two
leagues round Valenciennes and Cambray, in which he
alone might, during a certain number of years, exer¬
cise this new art; without constraining in any respect
those who might choose to adhere to the ancient proces¬
ses, or attempt new processes, in which no use should
be made of the oxygenated muriatic acid. He offered
to instruct in his manufactory, in all the details of his
process, all such as might be desirous of using it, and
might obtain the sanction of the ministry. It is pro¬
bable that, if his request had been granted, the esta¬
blishment at Valenciennes might have produced a
greater degree of confidence in those who had under¬
taken to make the necessary advances. It is probable
continues M. Berthollet, that they might have shorten¬
ed their trials, instead of establishing the process at
Conrtray, as they have done ; many artists might pro¬
bably have been formed under the direction of M.
Bonjour ; and a great number of establishments might
have been formed in the French provinces, by avoiding
those fruitless trials which tend to throw discredit upon
an useful art.
190. “ As soon as M. Berthollet had reason to hope
that the process might be executed in the large way,
he endeavoured to diminish the price of the liquor, by
decomposing the marine salt in the very operation
which served to form it. His first trials were unsuc¬
cessful ; but Mr Welter, a young ingenious chemist,
to whom M. Berthollet had entrusted the management
of the process, observed that it might be of advantage
to dilute the vitriolic acid ; and the operation then
succeeded in the most satisfactory manner. He imme¬
diately wrote to M. Bonjour and Mr Watt, the latter
of whom informed him that he had made this change
from the first: and the operation was long afterwards
described by M. Chaptal in a memoir forwarded by him
to the Academy of Sciences. Mr Watt had likewise
made use of a certain cask or butt, of a construction
which M. Berthollet was not acquainted with ; but, be¬
fore this apparatus was mentioned, Mr Welter had con¬
structed one, which is not only very proper to prepare
the oxygenated muriatic acid, but very well calculated
for several other chemical operations.
191. “ The intention of this apparatus is to multi¬
ply the surfaces of contact between the gas and the wa¬
ter, as it is evident that the combination can take place
only at their surfaces. That part of the gas which did
not enter into combination in the lower space, where it
is first conveyed, passes into a second cavity or space,
which is above the tube intended to give it vent. The
vessel which is intermediate between the pneumatic
cask and the distillatory matrass, is designed to retain
that part of the muriatic acid which is not oxygenated :
a small quantity of water is put into this vessel, a glass
tube being plunged therein, the height of which ex¬
ceeds that of the column of water the gas must over¬
come in the cask. The gas which passes out of the
matrass compresses the water in the intermediate ves¬
sel with a force equal to that opposed to its disen¬
gagement ; so that the water rises in the tube of safety,
and forms a column equal to the weight of the water
which
Jart II.
BLEACHING.
Vegetable which presses on the tube through which the gas enters
usances, the cask. But if, during the operation, a sudden cool-
 ' ing or rapid absorption of gas should take place, the
water descends again in the tube, the air of the atmo¬
sphere enters, and prevents a vacuum from being formed
within, which would have been attended witli a resorp¬
tion ot the liquor, and consequently break the distilling
vessel by the sudden cooling.
192. “ If the oxide or calx of manganese be of a
good kind, in small crystals, and contain very little
ioreign matter, the proportions which M. Berthollet
lound best calculated for distillation, are the follow¬
ing :
193. “ Six ounces of pulverized calx of manganese,
one pound of pulverized sea salt, twelve ounces of con¬
centrated vitriolic acid, and from eight to twelve ounces
of water. If the calx of manganese contain foreign earth
or metallic substances, the quantity must be augmented
in proportion to its impurity. It will be known, after
the operation, whether a sufficient quantity has been
employed $ because a small quantity ought to remain un¬
decomposed, and of its original black colour : from this
observation, the quantity proper to be used in the fol¬
lowing operations may be ascertained.
194. “ When the calx of manganese is found to con¬
tain calcareous spar, as may be known by its efferves¬
cing upon the contact of a small quantity of vitriolic
acid, it is proper to wash it before the operation with
diluted vitriolic acid, to separate the calcareous part,
which might be troublesome on account of the effer¬
vescence it produces : the calx must be dried after this
washing.
195. “ M. Berthollet is of opinion, from his trials,
that when the calx of manganese contains much phlo-
gisticated air, it is scarcely proper to form the oxyge¬
nated muriatic acid: M. Fourcroy, however, asserts,
that the phlogisticated air escapes in distillation from
manganese by a degree of heat less than ignition, but
that ignition is necessary to deprive it of its vital air.
It might perhaps be found advantageous to make use of
this information to purify such manganese as contains
phlogisticated air, by distilling off’this last aerial sub¬
stance by a moderate heat before it is applied to the pur¬
pose of oxygenating the marine acid.
196. “ A greater or less quantity of water must be
added, not only according to the degree of the con¬
centration of the sulphuric acid, but likewise according
to the quantity of matter subjected to distillation. If
this quantity be considerable, the acid must be more
diluted than if it be small. It might be more advan¬
tageous to make use of an acid which had not been
concentrated ; because the operation of concentrating
it adds to its price, and it is obliged to be again di¬
luted with water. But M. Berthollet observes, that
this saving can only take place when the manufactory
of the vitriolic acid is near at hand ; for in those situ¬
ations where this acid is to be brought from a con¬
siderable distance, the expence of carriage of a greater
quantity of fluid might exceed that of concentrating
it.
T97. “When the materials are prepared, the calx
of manganese must be carefully mixed with the sea-
salt, and the mixture introduced into the distillatory
vessel, placed on a sand bath : the vitriolic acid must
then be diluted, and suffered to cool j after which it is
to be poured on the mixture, and the tube of communi¬
cation between the matrass and the intermediate vessel
quickly fitted in. A particular attention to the lutings
is required in this operation. M. Chaptal takes notice
that when the vapour is perceived to escape by the smell,
it is sometimes difficult to ascertain the imperfect place j.
but that it a feather dipped in volatile alkali be passed
on such occasions over the lutes, it will shew the faulty
place, by the white cloud ot ammoniac formed in con¬
sequence ot the combination of marine acid with the vo¬
latile alkali.
198. “ Ihe size of the vessels ought to be such, that
the matrass should be about one-third empty j and that,
for the quantity here laid down, the casks should con¬
tain zoo pints of water, with an empty space of the
bulk ot about ten pints j because, when the gas comes
to occupy the cavities designed to receive it, the water,
will require a space into which it may ascend.
199. “ Before the operation is begun, the pneumatic
cask must be filled. The mixture being made, the gasr
which soon begins to be disengaged, first drives the at¬
mospheric air out ot the apparatus. As soon as it is ap¬
prehended that the atmospheric air has passed into the
cavities, it is emptied out by means of a recurved tube,
successively introduced beneath each j and in order to
drive the water out which has entered into the tube,
M. Berthollet recommends blowing strongly into it.
'Ihe operation is suff'ex-ed to go on without the applica¬
tion of heat, until it is perceived that the bubbles are
more slowly emitted : at this period, a slight degree of
heat is applied. It must not be strongly urged at the
beginning; but by a gradual increase it is at last to be
carried to ebullition, towards the end of the operation.
It may be known when the operation is near its termi¬
nation, by the tube of communication and intermediate
vessel becoming hot.
200. “ When the gas is no longer disengaged but in
small quantities, the fire is to be put out, and a sufficient
time must be suffered to elapse until the matrass is nearly
cold. The tube of communication may then be remo¬
ved, and hot water poured in to keep the matter in so¬
lution, that it may be more easily taken out : this resi-
due is to be poured into a large vessel, intended to pre¬
serve it for a use to be presently mentioned. The ope¬
ration lasts longer in proportion to the quantity of mat¬
ter. With the before mentioned quantity, it ought to
last five or six hours. It is proper not to be too much
in haste, because a larger quantity of gas is by that
means obtained. One single person may inspect and
manage several of these apparatus, and the quantities
may be much larger.
201. “ The intermediate vessel gradually becomes-,
filled with a fluid, which consists of pure but weak mu¬
riatic acid : several operations may, however, be made
without taking it out; but when it is apprehended that
there is not a sufficient space left empty, this acid is ta¬
ken out by means of a syphon : and, when its quantity
is considerable enough, it may be substituted instead of
the mixture of sulphuric acid and muriate of soda, in a
similar operation, if it be not wanted for another use.
In order that the quantity of common muriatic acid
which passes out of the matrass, may be inconsiderable,,
it is expedient that the first tube should make a right
angle, or even a more obtuse angle, with the body of
the matrass. During the operation, it is necessary to
stir
679
Vegetable
Substances,
68o
Vegetable s^‘r the water, from time to time, by means of the agi-
Substanees. tator, in the apparatus, to favour the absorption of the
' Sas hy tj16 water. When this is completed, the liquor
is sufficiently strong to be used in bleaching. A small¬
er proportion of water may be put into the cask, and
the fluid may afterwards be properly diluted.
202. “ In this state of concentration, though the li¬
quor retains a considerably strong smell, yet it cannot
prove noxious, or even very inconvenient, to those who
use it. It is nevertheless proper to conduct it into the
vessels in which the cloths are arranged, by wooden
channels, fitted to the opening at the lower part of the
cask. It is proper to draw oft the liquor from the cask
as soon as it is prepared, because it acts upon the wood,
and not only becomes by that means weaker, but like¬
wise hastens the destruction of the cask : but when it is
conveyed into a vessel in which cloths are properly
placed, these speedily weaken it to such a degree that
it does not perceptibly act upon the wood.
203. “ The cloths are to be prepared by leaving
them 24 hours in water, or still better in the old lixi¬
vium, to extract the dressing; after which they must
be once or twice well washed in alkaline lixiviums, be¬
cause all that part which can be extracted by the lixi¬
viums would have neutralized a portion of the liquor,
which requires to be carefully used. After this the
cloth must be carefully washed, and disposed upon
sticks in such a manner that it may be impregnated
with the liquor poured on it, without any part being-
compressed. The framing of the sticks, as well as the
cask and vessel intended to contain the cloths, ought
to be constructed without iron 5 because this metal be¬
comes calcined by the oxygenated muriatic acid, and
would produce iron moulds, not to be taken out but by
means of salt of sorrel.
204. “ The first immersion must be longer than the
following ones ; it may last three hours : after which,
the cloth is to be taken out, lixiviated anew, and then
" ^ put into a shallow vessel, in order that new liquor may
be poured on it. It is sufficient that this immersion,
and the following, should continue for the space of
half an hour. The cloth is taken out, and cleared of
the liquor by pressure j then lixiviated, and subjected
to new immersions. The same liquor may be used un¬
til it is exhausted $ and when it is found to be much
weakened, a proportion of the liquor which has not
been used may be added.
205. “ When the cloth appears white, excepting at
the selvages, and a few threads darker than the rest,
it must be impregnated with black soap and strongly-
rubbed ; after which it is to be lixiviated for the last
time, and immersed once more in the liquor.
206. “ The number of lixiviations and immersions
which are necessary cannot be determined, because it
varies according to the nature of the cloth : the limits
of this number, however, are between four and eight
for linen and hempen cloths. M. Berthollet expresses
his inability to point out the best method of making
the alkaline lixiviums ; this useful art being still a
matter of mere practice, and variously performed in dif¬
ferent places. It appeared advantageous to him to
render the alkali caustic, by mixing one-third of lime ;
but in this case care must be taken that the lixivium
be strained through a cloth, in order that the calca¬
reous earth may not mix itself with the linen, as its
Part IL
particles might corrode or wear it by their hardness. VtgtMI
By this management the lixivium being rendered more Subftancel
active, does not require so large a quantity of alkali;1 ‘ _i
and nevertheless, if the quantity of alkali be not too
considerable, it produces no damage to the cloth, not¬
withstanding the contrary prejudice, which is very ge¬
neral. He has likewise remarked that it was of no ad¬
vantage, and even prejudicial, thatthe lixiviations should
be of long duration ; but it is necessary that the fluid
be very hot, and of considerable strength, otherwise
the cloths bleached by the aerated marine acid would
become coloured and ruddy when submitted to new
lixiviations. This accident took place in the trials al¬
ready mentioned, Cottons are much more easily and
speedily bleached than linens : two lixiviums, or at most
three, with the same number of immersions in the li¬
quid, are sufficient j and as they are so much the more
readily bleached, it is advantageous, when linen, hemp,
and cotton, are to be bleached, to reserve the liquors
for the latter, which have been already weakened by
exerting their action on the former. Such liquors as
are so exhausted as scarcely to act upon hemp or linen,
will do very well for cotton.
207. “ After the last immersion in the liquor, the
cloth must be plunged in sour milk, or water acidu¬
lated with vitriolic acid. The true proportion is not
well ascertained j but our author thinks, from his ex¬
periments, that one part of the acid by weight, with
fifty parts of water may be employed successfully, and
without danger. The cloths are to be kept about half
an hour in this fluid, warmed ; after which, they must
be strongly pressed, or wrung, and immediately plun¬
ged in common water : for, if they were suftered to dry
by evaporation, the vitriolic acid, becoming concen¬
trated, would attack them. When the cloths are well
washed, nothing more is necessary than to dry and pre¬
pare them in the usual manner.
208. “ It is an obvious precaution, that this acid
water be not too strong, as it w-ould of course injure the
texture of the stufts.
209. “ Pig. 5. Pi. XCI. exhibits the apparatus fer
preparing the liquid intended to be used in this new me¬
thod of bleaching. ABC is a furnace j C is the matrass,
or distillatory vessel ; GHI the tube of communica¬
tion with K, the intermediate vessel ; L the tube of
safety 5 M a tube communicating with the tub N, the
section of which tub is exhibited in fig. 6. while the
lower orifice of this tube is seen at y. In the tub N
are fixed three inverted vessels, open beneath, as repre¬
sented in fig. 7. and intended to contain the aeriform
marine acid. PPP are agitators for the purpose of
stirring the water by the rotation of the upright post
OQ. The efleet of this apparatus maybe easily un¬
derstood, by considering that the aeriform dephlogisti-
cated marine acid, issuing from the tube y, passes into
the vessel X, until it has excluded the water it may
contain : after which the surplus issues through the
tube Z, and runs into the second vessel ; which, be¬
coming also filled, affimls its surplus to the third or
uppermost vessel. Hence it follows, that three surfaces
of the water are exposed to an atmosphere of dephlogi-
sticated marine acid ; and these surfaces must of course
be changed by the rotation of the agitators. In this
manner the water becomes impregnated, and may be
drawn off at P. It is of consequence to ascertain its
relative
BLEACHING.
'art II.
BLEACHING.
681
"egctable relative strength, in order that the experiments may at
ibstances. all times be equally successful. M. de Croisille makes
~ » use of a solution of indigo in the vitriolic acid $ for
which purpose he takes one part of finely-pulverized
indigo, with eight parts of concentrated vitriolic acid.
This mixture is kept in a matrass for several hours on
the water bath j and, when the solution is complete, it
is diluted with a thousand parts of water. In order to
ascertain the force of the oxygenated muriatic acid, one
measure of this solution is put into a graduated tube of
glass, and the liquor or impregnated water is added, un¬
til the colour of the indigo is completely destroyed. In
this way it is ascertained, by means of the graduations,
how many measures of any liquor whose goodness has
been ascertained by direct experiments upon linen or
cotton, are necessary to destroy the colour of one mea¬
sure of the solution of indigo 5 and this number will
serve to ascertain the respective force of all the liquors
which are required to be compared together. Mr
Watt makes use of a solution of cochineal for the same
purpose.
210. “ In the sixth volume of the Annals of Che¬
mistry, M. Berthollet has published some additions to
the foregoing Memoir, which, on account of its exten¬
sive utility, I have scarcely at all shortened. They are
the following:—Mr Welter finds that it is advanta¬
geous to terminate the process, by exposing the thread
or cloth for three or four days in the field j during
which they must be occasionally watered, and after¬
wards washed with pure water. He considers this ex¬
position as indispensable. ButM. Berthollet observes,
that other persons have bleached to the perfect satis¬
faction of artists without it $ though he admits that it
may happen, in the large way, that certain pieces may
not turn out perfectly white after the last operation, in
consequence of some of their parts having sufi'ered ca¬
sual pressure $ and he thinks that, although a continu¬
ance of the operation would remove these imperfec¬
tions, it might, in such cases, prove more advantageous
to remove them by exposure on the grass ; very little
loss of time, and no considerable extent of premises, be¬
ing required for this purpose.
211. “ M. de Croisille has excluded the use of wood
in every part of his apparatus j and has applied the
process not only to bleaching, but to the discharging of
colours in dyed cottons or linens.
212. “ M. Berthollet further observes, that the pre¬
caution of plunging the cottons in pure water, after
they have been taken out of the acidulated water, is
not sufficient ; but it is necessary to plunge them into a
weak caustic lixivium, moderately heated, and keep them
there for a short time.
213. “ When the liquor is suffered to run immedi¬
ately into troughs, care must be taken to mix it well
with the agitator ; because otherwise the most saturat¬
ed liquor, which occupies the lower part of the vessel,.
running first, would exert too strong an action ; or if
half or three quarters of the liquor be drawn off, and
mixed with the proper quantity of water, according to
the precautions before established, the rest of the fluid
may be used together with the water for the succeed¬
ing operation : lastly, he observes that this process,
simple as it is, can scarcely be carried into execution,
without, in the first instances, being directed by a per¬
son to whom the operations of chemistry are familiar.
VOL. III. Part II. t
He observes that a diminution, or even an equality of Vegetable
the expences, relative to the ordinary process, is not to Substance*,
be hoped for, excepting for the bleaching of fine ^
cloths, unless the operator possesses a good process to
extract the soda from the residue of the distillation ;
and without this condition the bleaching of coarser
cloths ought not to be undertaken, excepting in those
cases wherein the advantages arising from the speed of
the operation, the facility of performing it in all places
and at all times, and the diminution of the stock or
capital, are sufficient to compensate for the excess of
the price. These observations are perhaps applicable
to linens, and not cottons. It is not possible, he con¬
tinues to observe, to lay down principles applicable to
every particular case j but he advises those who may
undertake this object, to begin by trials, and by means
of those trials to form calculations, without any allow¬
ance on the favourable side. On the other hand, he ad¬
vises the operator not to suffer himself to be imposed on
by those losses which arise for want of being familia¬
rized with the operations : as there is no great expence
incurred by making trials for a time, by which this
advantage is derived, that the operator renders himself
more expert for carrying more extensive processes into
effect * NichoU.
214. Such is the method of procedure recommend-
ed by M. Berthollet, which was soon found liable to
many inconveniences j and various amendments and al¬
terations have been suggested, the principal of which
we shall relate. Pajot de Charmes was one of the
first improvers of the new method. He states the fol¬
lowing objections to Berthollet’s process.
1. He thinks the furnaces recommended by Ber¬
thollet not well adapted to the purpose, as they are
difficult to procure and expensive ; as they will only
contain each one matrass j as they are not calculated to
shew the progress of the process, are too speedily heat¬
ed, and consequently endanger the lutes j and lastly,
as they will not always guard against absorption, not¬
withstanding the tube of safety in the intermediate ves¬
sel. The furnace which he would have employed in
place of these is thus constructed :
215. The furnace is supported upon a frame-work of
wood, between which and the hearth tiles are disposed
in a bed of clay. The furnace itself is built of brick,
which he recommends to be lined with plaster of Pa¬
ris. It ought always to be double, and is divided by
a partition in the middle. In the upper part at the front
are two cavities intended to admit the vessels used in
the distilling; they may be either round or square; and,
as the latter is most convenient to the builder, they
should perhaps be always square, provided with a ledge,
and rounded at bottom. The combustible matter,
which may be charcoal, is burned in a sort of chaffer,
or in a portable grate, which is introduced by an open¬
ing in the side of the furnace: and this opening may be
closed during the process by a door of plate-iron so as
to prevent the too free access of air. From behind
the distilling vessels and charcoal grate proceeds a fun¬
nel, through which the vapour and heat of the fuel is
conveyed into a cavity with raised edges, over which
is placed an oblong vessel of sheet iron, intended to be
kept filled with muriat of soda, which may dry during
the process. At each extremity of this cavity is a hole
which may be opened or closed as required, so as to
682
BLEACHING.
Vegetable admit a greater or less quantity of air. Below the dry-
Substances. ing place, in the sides of the empty space at the back
    of the furnace, are places where boxes of sheet iron,
containing the requisite proportion of manganese and
salt, ready mixed, are kept for the purpose of keeping
the materials dry.
In each of the square spaces is placed a capsule,
which may be made either to contain sand or water, in
which the distilling vessels are to be inserted. These
v capsules rest with their rims upon the edges of the ca¬
vities, and are supported below by a small bar. The
furnaces, according to the directions of De Charmes,
are made so as to be portable, an advantage which may
perhaps, in most manufactories, be dispensed with.
216. 2. De Charmes next objects to the curved
tube as being liable to be broken j and thus expose the
workmen to the noxious gas, of which the accident will
also cause a considerable loss. Berthollet’s method of
applying the tube is also objectionable from the destruc¬
tible natui*e of the cork stoppers, and the difficulty of
preserving the stability of the latter.
He proposes, instead of the matrass, tube, and inter¬
mediate vessel, to substitute tubulated retorts, furnished
with curved necks of glass or lead j the beak of which
is fitted by luting to a leaden support in the form of a
funnel j and to that is adapted the end of a leaden tube
which passes into the pneumatic tube, and has its lower
extremity bent to a right angle, serving instead of the
glass tube used by Berthollet.
217. 3. Berthollet’s pneumatic tub was not provid¬
ed with a cover close enough to prevent the escape of
the gas } and his inverted vessels appear to De Charmes
to be improper, from the difficulty there is of construct¬
ing their sides and borders so as to concentrate the gas
in the best and most complete manner.
His pneumatic tub is conical, and divided into three
parts by two false bottoms, which are made to rest on
hoops or sliders within the tub, and kept firm by means
of pins.
218. The distilling vessels employed by De Charmes
are not high enough to prevent a portion of the sul¬
phuric acid from passing over without combination j
and they are besides too dear for ordinary use. In
Ireland they employ leaden alembics of a sufficient
height, and capable of containing 40 gallons of liquor,
which is a capacity amply sufficient for allowing the
swelling of the materials. These alembics are conical,
have a broad bottom, which is supported in a vessel of
water to regulate the heat ; the neck is so long as to
allow any sulphuric acid, which may rise, to fall back
again, and the cover of it is perforated in two places ;
one of the perforations serving for the passage of a rod
of iron with prongs entering within the alembic, but
so covered with lead as to prevent the action of the sul¬
phuric acid, and the handle passes through a leathern
collar to px*event the escape of gas, the whole being in¬
tended for stirring the materials j the other hole in¬
tended to admit a leaden funnel carved like an S, to
prevent the reaction of the gas on the diluted sulphuric
acid which is to be introduced through it.
219. It is of the greatest importance to prevent the
escape of the gas, as well to prevent danger to the
workmen as loss to the manufacturer. “ C. Widmer,
at Jouy, has arranged his apparatus in such a manner
as to lose the least gas possible during the condensa-
2
Part II,
tion : he receives the gas under a capsule inverted at the Ve-rctaNe
bottom of the apparatus ; above these are two tours de Substances.
goutiere also inverted, then another capsule above these;
then two more tours de goutiere, and then another cap¬
sule, which terminates the apparatus. The disposition
of his tub is such, that he places around in his labora¬
tory several distilling apparatuses, which are going at
the same time.
“ Apparatuses constructed on similar principles are
also in use at Glasgow and Manchester. Bourboulon-
de-Bonneuil has likewise invented an apparatus, con¬
sisting of several matrasses, ranged as in an aquafortis
manufactory, the tubes of which are conveyed into a
chamber containing concentrating tubs. His appara¬
tus for the bleaching of paper is very ingenious, and
deserves to be described. In the last place, others have
arranged five or six large casks, like Wolfe’s appara¬
tus, in such a manner as to make each cask perform
the functions of a tubulated flask
220. Before we proceed to describe the most ap-May. tol
proved method of immersing the cloths in the oxyge-*1 P1255*
nated liquor, it will be proper, to treat particularly of
the materials employed in preparing this liquor, the
mode of preparing them for the process, and the me¬
thod of adjusting the apparatus and conducting the dis¬
tillation.
The selection and preparation of the materials
221.
is of the greatest importance, as on them will depend
in a very great measure the success of the operation.
The materials are either the muriatic acid and black
oxyde of manganese, or this latter and sulphuric acid
and muriat of soda, which are usually employed as be¬
ing cheaper. There are, however, advantages in using
the muriatic acid ready prepared, where the bleach-
field is in the neighbourhood of such a manufactory, as
the danger of breaking the vessels (where glass is em¬
ployed) from the incrustation of the residuary salt is
much less in this case.
222. The crystallized ore of manganese is to be pre¬
ferred, such as appears to be composed of splendid
needles slightly adhering to each other 5 this variety is
generally purer, and much more easily reduced to pow¬
der, and a smaller quantity of it is sufficient. It must
be reduced to a very fine powder, a short time before
it is wanted, as if kept long in the state of powder, it
is said to be injured.
223. The gray muriat of soda is employed in France
as being cheaper than the white, but probably the pre¬
sent regulations of the salt duties in this country are
such as preclude the manufacturer from employing it
in this state t. The salt is to be dried on an iron plate f Wic/toJ-
in that part of the furnace described in 205, and thensora’s-E*
rubbed to a fine powder, and passed through a sieve ; c^arm*'
this is necessary, to mix it more intimately with the
manganese, and to enable the sulphuric acid to act more
uniformly and completely on it.
224. In order to be more certain as to the propor¬
tion of the ingredients, the sulphuric acid should be
procured in its concentrated state, and acid of the same
specific gravity should always be employed. Before
using, it is to be lowered with its weight of water, and
it is proper to observe, that in making the mixture, the
water should not be added to the acid, but the acid be
poured in a gentle stream into the water, pouring it
down the sides of the glass vessel in which the mix¬
ture
lart II.
BLEACHING.
Gmef.
\anchcst.
Him. vol.
Yt.
tjpg-ws’*
£by-
f»getable ture is made, adding the acid hy portions at intervals,
Instances, and turning the head aside to avoid any drops which
'"‘’v may fly up from the effervescence produced, which,
however, is much less in this way than when the mix¬
ture is made in any other way. As a heat greater than
that of boiling water is generated, it is better that the
vessels have the form of jugs with spouts and handles,
that the mixture may be more easily poured into the
distilling vessels.
225. The proportions in which the ingredients are
employed, are variously adjusted by different manufac¬
turers. De Charmes recommends the following.
Oxyd of manganese crystallized, twenty ounces.
Muriat of soda, four pounds.
Sulphuric acid (at 6o° of Massy’s aerometer), 44 ozs.
Water, three pounds and a quarter*.
Mr Rupp of Manchester recommends the following,
as affording him the strongest liquor.
Manganese, three parts.
Muriat of soda, eight parts.
Sulphuric acid, six parts.
Water, twelve parts f.
Mr Higgins uses the proportions as under:
Manganese, sixty pounds.
Muriat of soda, sixty pounds.
Sulphuric acid, fifty pounds.
Water, about thirty pounds J.
In Germany, and in France at present, the propor¬
tions are nearly as follows :
Manganese, twenty parts.
Muriat, sixty-four parts.
Acid, forty-four parts.
Water, fifty-four parts §.
226. It would conduce much to the economy of this
method jot bleaching, if the manufactory of sulphuric
acid could be carried on under the same roof with the
bleaching process, or if some method could be devised
to prepare this acid, without employing the nitrat of
potass (saltpetre). The latter has been attempted by
De Charmes, and as his experiment may afford a hint
to manufacturers, we shall copy it.
“ The present is certainly the place to speak of
the attempt I have made, to procure the sulphuric acid
without the intermedium of nitre, and to describe the
apparatus I made use of for that purpose. It consisted
of a pitcher or pot of stone ware, perforated at the bot¬
tom, the neck of which communicated with two small
two-necked glass bodies connected together, and each
half filled with water. Under each of these glass ves¬
sels was lighted charcoal, to keep the water in a state
of evaporation, and under the earthen pot there was
likewise fire to heat and inflame the sulphur, which
was put into the pot through the opening opposite the
neck. This opening, which draws in the external air
for the combustion of the sulphur, was closed with a
stopper, perforated like the nozel of a garden-pot.
“ The sulphur, thus inflamed, soon filled the vacant
6.83
part of the glass vessels with its whitish cloudy vapour. Vegetable
This vapour, meeting that of the water, combined with Substances,
it, and fell in acidulous drops on the lower water, over —v~“—^
which the vapour of the sulphur circulating for a
time, does also probably combine with it to a certain
point. Another proof that this condensed water did /
combine with the vapour of the sulphur is, that the
same vapour received in drops beyond the second glass
vessel by means of a recurved adopter, came out in the
acid state, reddening the tincture of tournsol, and effer¬
vescing with alkalies when concentrated. I have twice
repeated this experiment with success, and with scarcely
any inconvenience.
“ I likewise attempted to burn sulphur and heat wa¬
ter, in two separate vessels communicating with a third.
The two vapours combining together in the receiving
vessel, likewise produced by their condensation a fluid,
which afforded the same indications of acidity as that
of the former experiment.
“ When sulphur was burned in an earthen vessel,
and its vapour communicated into an earthen jar, in
which water almost boiling was poured, the results were
the same.
“ It is probable that if these experiments were re¬
peated more at large, with a suitable apparatus, a longer
series of glass vessels, and proper furnaces, the success
would be more complete. I intend at some future time
to resume this process, and shall hasten to communicate
my success to the public, if success should attend my
endeavours (1)*. * Nichal-
227. The disposal of the apparatus for the distilla-»orc’s D<?
tion will next demand our attention 5 and as much ofChatvnes.
the success of this operation will depend on the good¬
ness of the lute, it is proper to make a few remarks
on this subject. The following is recommended by
De Charmes (or rather M. Baume) as a fat lute.
Take any quantity of good gray or blue clay, or, what
answers extremely well, fullers earth. Let it be dried
in thin cakes in an oven after the bread is baked, then
pounded or sifted 5 a certain quantity of this clay is to
be mixed with a sufficient quantity of boiled linseed-
oil, in an iron or bell-metal mortar, in which they must
be well beaten together for a long time, so as to form
a tenacious stiff paste of a uniform consistence, and per¬
fectly free from lumps. A considerable quantity of
lute is usually made at once 5 and, so far from losing
any of its tenacity by being kept, it is asserted that
lute which has been made a twelvemonth, provided
that it has been preserved in a cool damp place, as a
cellar, and in covered vessel, is more pliant and bet¬
ter than when first made. If too dry and hard, it may
be easily rendered of a due consistence by being warm¬
ed and worked with the fingers, or beaten in a warm
mortar.
The lute which has been used in one distillation must
not be thrown away, as, with proper management, it
may serve again, and is even better than before. It
must be carefully freed from the burnt and hard parts,
however, as these would render it crumbly.
228. “ When the quantity to be mixed, or kneaded
4 R 2 up
(1) Chaptal made a great number of experiments in the large way, for the purpose of discovering the means of
acidifying sulphur, without the expence of nitre j but upon the whole they were unsuccessful.
684 BLEACHING. Part IJ
Vegetable up again, is very small, the trouble of beating it in
Substances, the mortar may be avoided, because the operation is
^ v ' performed very well, by kneading the matter with the
hands. For this purpose, a portion of the lute already
kneaded in the mortar, and soaked with oil, may be
taken and rolled in the vessel containing the pound-
ed and sifted earth ; the portion of earth which adheres
may then be worked in j and, by a repetition of this
manipulation, the mass will speedily become enlarged,
and must be strongly compressed, rolled out, and
doubled again, until it is found that it possesses the re¬
quisite soitness and tenacity, and does not crack when
doubled.
“ If it should happen that the lute should become too
soft by excess of oil, and clay is not at hand to correct
this fault, the mass will soon acquire firmness by expo¬
sing it to the open air upon parchment, or upon a plate.
It must not be laid upon paper, because it is very diffi¬
cult to separate this material entirely j and if any par¬
ticles should remain, there w ould be reason to fear that,
when incorporated in the mixture, they would either
prevent the perfect adhesion of the lute, or would al¬
low the passage through that kind of void or pore,
which the fragments of paper would form. It is, more¬
over, to be remarked, that this lute cannot be too smooth
and uniform. It ought not to afford any perception of
inequality when it is handled, or kneaded, nor indicate
the presence of foreign substances, such as sand, straw,
earthy particles, &c. which are capable of preventing
the intimate connexion of its parts.
“ I strongly insist on the perfection of this lute, be¬
cause it is the soul of distillation.
229. “ Boiled linseed oil is thus made : two pounds
of common linseed oil being put into a saucepan, or
proper vessel, of copper, iron, or pottery, add three
ounces of red litharge, finely powdered and sifted ;
after stirring the whole well together, place the vessel
on the fire, heating it gradually, until the litharge is
completely dissolved. It is necessary to stir the mix¬
ture very frequently with a wooden spatula, until the
whole solution, which at first acquires a brick-dust co¬
lour, is completed : it is then to be removed from the
fire, and, when cold, transferred into a stone or earth¬
en vessel, and kept well corked. This is the boiled
linseed oil above directed to be used in making the fat
lute.
“ When this oil, which is blackish after boiling, is
well made, it congeals in the vessel as soon as it is cold.
When it is required to be poured out, it may be ren¬
dered fluid by bringing it near the fire. To save the
trouble of heating it, it may be poured, as soon as made,
into a plate or shallow vessel, or left in the vessel used
for boiling it. It is seldom necessary to heat it for the
mere purpose of mixture*, the quantities required for this
purpose may be taken up with the fingers, or in any
other manner.
“ It is proper to observe, that the vessel in which
the oil is boiled must be sufficiently high, to afford a
space for the swelling of the fluid y for, as soon as the
heat begins to act, it will rise and overflow the vessel,
if particular attention he not. paid to it. As soon as
this process begins, the vessel must instantly be taken
off the fire, and the mixture strongly agitated by plun¬
ging the spatula in it, at the same time blowing strong¬
ly at its surface with the mouth ; by which means the
3.
ebullition will be checked. After this event has hap- Vegetabl*
pened two or three times, it may with certainty be Substancei.
concluded, that the oil will be sufficiently consistent to v—1
form a good fat lute. By cooling, it immediately con¬
geals, as has been remarked, to the consistence of plaster,
of a black colour, inclining to brown.
230. “ The lute made of linseed oil cake is thus
made:
“ The cake is first to be broken and pounded in an
iron or bell-metal mortar, and afterwards sifted through
a silken sieve: starch is then to be boiled up, to the
consistence of size or glue ; a small piece of this, being
powdered with the flour of the oil-cake, is to be work¬
ed in a plate, or with the hands $ more of the flour
may then be added, and the kneading continued until
the mass is absolutely without any lump, or inequality,
and its consistence has become nearly the same as that
of the fat lute ; after which it is to be kept in a plate,
or covered wooden bowl, in the cellar, for use. The
same care must be taken with this, as with the fat lute,
not to wrap it in paper, but in parchment, if thought
necessary.
“ This lute dries and hardens much on its outer sur¬
face, which remains uninjured at the place where it is
applied $ but it is decomposed more speedily than the
fat lute, on account of its peculiar property to become
hard and shrink with a strong heat. In this state, in
consequence of the action of acids, it assumes a yellow
colour, and is then good for nothing: it must be re¬
newed.
“ A very good lute is likewise made with equal parts
of the flour of almonds, of linseed, and of starch, knead¬
ed together. It must be understood, that the latter is
to be boiled to the consistence of starch.
“ To these different lutes we may add that which is
composed of lime and white of egg, which has the pro¬
perty of acquiring a considerable degree of hardness.
“ Among all these lutes, that to which I have con¬
stantly given the preference, and is always kept in
sight in the present work, is the fat lute. The lute of
white of egg and lime, retained by a cloth and a ban¬
dage, may be advantageously used as a covering to th«
fat lute.
“ The fat lutes adhere very much to the hands, du¬
ring the kneading or working *, but it is not difficult
to wash off the remains after the operation: nothing
more is necessary, than to use warm water and soap, or
soap leys, after having previously wiped off the greater ^ 1
part with blotting paper son’/l>«
231. As the directions given by De Charmes (or cermet.
disposing the apparatus will, with a few modifications,
apply to every case, it will be proper to give them with¬
out abridgment.
“ Our distillation may be performed either in a re¬
tort, or a tubulated body or bottle. There can be no
difficulty in properly placing these vessels. The junc¬
tion of the neck or tube, communicating with the
pneumatic vessel, is the only object which requires par¬
ticular care. The manner of joining these two parts,.,
by means of lute alone, will be explained below.
“ As the use of the retort requires more attention
with regard to its form, and the application of the ad¬
ditional part, the following details will be of use to
prevent accidents.
232. “ When the retorts are new, and have not be-,-
fore.-
■art II. B L E A
regetable fore been luted to any additional part, It is advisable ei-
ibstance*. ther to rub a small quantity of wanned wax on the parts
*—v 1 where the lute is to be applied, that is to say, the neck
of the retort, as well as the correspondent part of the
additional piece, or to suffer a small quantity of starch
or paste to dry upon those parts j without this precau¬
tion the lute could not be easily applied ; it would slide
and roll upon the glass instead of adhering.
“ Care must afterwards be taken to fix round the neck
of the retort a mass of lute, somewhat greater than is
supposed to be necessary to fill the additional part to the
place where it is to be fixed, in order that by the forcing
of that piece upon the neck of the retort, the lute may
extend and apply itself more intimately. The same at¬
tention must also be paid to the mass of lute, which is
required to secure the beak of the additional piece in its
connection with the pneumatic apparatus. These obser¬
vations are of more importance, in order that the two
pieces may, by this compression, be made to operate as
if they formed one entire vessel.
“ To apply these lutes with ease and convenience, the
retort is to be held in one hand, in such a manner as
that its belly or lower part may not touch or rest upon
any thing whatever, because the slightest blow upon
this very thin part will break it.
“ Before the lutes are applied, care must be taken
to introduce the neck of the retort into the additional
piece, and mark with lute or wax upon the additional
piece the place where the extremity of the retort touches
it internally ; and, in like manner, on the retort it¬
self, the place where the extremity of the additional
piece touches its neck. By means of these marks it
is easy to estimate the thickness of the masses of lute,
by placing the two vessels near each other in the re¬
spective positions they ought to have been fixed. Last¬
ly, they are united together by sliding the recurved
additional piece upon the neck of the retort, which is
to be held firmly by its neck, resting tlie hand on the
surrounding part, if the retort is small j or holding it
by the recurved part, if it be large, or the additional
piece should be too long and heavy. The greatest at¬
tention must be paid not to turn the parts round, du¬
ring this operation, more than is absolutely necessary
to bring them together; and if this can be done with¬
out any turning at all, it will be still better, as the lute
will hold more effectually. The neck of the retort
must be entered into the additional piece as far as it is
capable of compressing the lute, or nearly to the marks
made upon the pieces before they were put together.
In this situation the lute, which forms a mass round the
edge of the additional piece, must be. raised so as to co¬
ver both surfaces, after having first pressed it as firmly
as possible into the joint ; smoothing it upon the two
pieces, so as to prevent the smallest opening or crack.
It is advisable after all to spread a thin coating of the
boiled linseed oil over the lute, which not only renders
it smoother and more perfect, but by the density it ac¬
quires from evaporation, it forms a kind of varnish or
pellicle, which supports the lute, and prevents the fis¬
sures which might be formed during the actual opera¬
tion. Whenever in the course of the work the lute
should appear too dry, it must be supplied with a thin
coating of oil.
“ While the lute is thus spread and applied on the
e&ternal pact of the additional piece and the neck of
C H I 1ST G. 685
the retort, the compound apparatus is to be held by the Vegetable
additional piece only, and the retort left to be support-Substances.
ed, untouched, in the air, by its insertion at the neck  —1
only.
“ Instead of luting the additional piece to the re¬
tort, simply at the extremity of the neck of this last,
and at the place where the wider part of that piece
touches the retort, we might apply the lute upon the
whole surface comprehended between those parts. But
I have found that it is sufficient if these two parts be
made secure. A retort luted in this manner forms one
single and entire body with its additional neck ; and
with very little care and attention, the lute will seldom
or ever have occasion to be renewed before one or two
months service.
233. “ The tube on which the recurved additional
piece rests during the distillation, and through which
the gas is introduced into the pneumatic tube, is, as I
have remarked, entirely of lead. If it be not cast, it
ought to be carefully joined with strong solder *, and
for fear this last should fail, it will be prudent to co¬
ver it with a coating of yellow wax, pitch, or melted
pitch.
“ That part of the tube, (if soldered as before men¬
tioned) which passes under the lower false bottom,
ought to be carefully bended with a round coiner, be¬
fore it is coated with the wax or pitch ; and in the bend¬
ing it is safer to cause the soldered part to lie within the
angle. It is likewise proper to stop the mouth of the
tube with paper, or a cork, during the time of waxing
or tarring, in order to prevent any introduction of those
substances into its cavity, taking care to withdraw this
temporary stopper before the apparatus is applied to ac¬
tual use. It is not absolutely necessary to coat any other
part of the tube, but that which is to be placed within
the pneumatic apparatus, because it is easy to stop any
other part, out of which the gas might issue, with soft
wax or lute.
“ The extremity of this tube, in which the recurved
neck of the additional piece is to be inserted, must have
the form of a small funnel, not only for the purpose of
affording the most convenient support, and the more
ready adaption to the various sizes of those necks, but
also because it more readily supports the only kind of
lute which in this work we suppose to be used. This
lute is never deranged, if care be taken to press it against
the internal surfaces of this small funnel, and of the glass
or lead of the additional piece, so as to unite them as
much as possible, it being always understood that the
lute is good, and possesses the properties before describ¬
ed in treating of that substance.
234. “ I have remarked, that the use of the retort
with its additional neck might be dispensed with, by
simply using a body or bottle with a neck (even a
wine bottle may be used in case of necessity, provided
its bottom be either very thin, or very gradually heat¬
ed). In the orifice of the neck of these vessels, is to;
be adapted a tube of lead, properly bended, and of a
due size. This method is in fact very advantageous
and economical j but care must be taken to join the
tube, if it be of sheet-lead, particularly in the parts be¬
low the bottle which are liable to become heated, a
short time before the end of the distillation *, to join it
I say, without solder, by fusing the two edges together..
For in process of time the solder, though ever so strong,
yeti
686
Vegetable yet because it contains tin, is liable to excessive corro-
Sulistance-s. sion by the oxygenated muriatic acid, which, notwith-
standing its heat, is not found to attack lead in any
perceptible degree.
“ But it may, perhaps, be more convenient to cast
such a tube at one heat, as well as the additional piece
in the apparatus, with the retort 5 unless, indeed, it
should be practicable to have it made of stone-ware or
porcelain, the latter of which is the least permeable to
the gas. Or we might, with more advantage, make
use of a thick tube ol common glass, which might be
easily bended in a charcoal fire, and might be adapted
to the tubulated bottle, as well as the leaden tube. But
the danger ol its breaking, and the difficulty of procur¬
ing others in case of need, together with the expence,
have led me to reject this, as well as the tubes of pot¬
tery or porcelain.
“ In order that the tube adapted to the neck of the
bottle may accurately fit, and prevent all escape of the
oxygenated muriatic acid, it is defended by lute in
such a manner, that it shall not be thrust into the neck
ol the bottle, without extruding a portion of that sub¬
stance j and a border of luting must then be applied
round the place of junction, which will effectually pre¬
vent the escape of any vapour which might issue
through the first luting. Lastly, the whole surface of
this external luting is to be smeared with boiled linseed
oil '■) after which the distillatory apparatus may be con¬
sidered as perfectly secure.
“ 1/ a tube of glass be used, it may be so adapted
by grinding with emery as to fit the neck of the glass
body, and require no luting. The same might be done
with a tube ol porcelain, if the material were sufficient¬
ly fine.
235. “With regard to the other neck which I have
recommended, as well in the bottle as in the retort,
it serves not only to introduce the materials when the
leaden tube is previously luted in, but likewise to ad¬
mit the external air, it by chance an absorption should
be perceived to take place j that is to say, if the water,
by diminution of the heat, which leaves a kind of va¬
cuum, should rise from the pneumatic apparatus into the
body : though even in this case there would be no rea¬
son to fear its breaking, notwithstanding its being con¬
siderably heated, as at the end of the operation. 1 have
expressly made the trial several times, and always with¬
out any accident. The fluid becomes gradually heated
in its passage along the sides of the tube or neck of the
distilling apparatus, before it enters and mixes with the
matter in the body itself j and again, if the tubulated
bottle and tube be made use of, the water rising through
the latter, and falling in the middle of that contained in
the vessel, cannot directly touch the sides before it be¬
comes mixed, But, at all events, if the smallest ab¬
sorption be feared, it will be sufficient to raise the stop¬
per, and return it to its place the instant after the intro¬
duction of the atmospheric air. Instead of a glass stop¬
per, a cork may be used, which must be carefully luted
round the neck, if there be any reason to think that the
vapour should find its way through, in consequence of
the neck being perfectly round.
236. “ With regard to the pneumatic vessel, the fol¬
lowing is the method of placing and fixing the false bot¬
toms :
Part II.
“ A common wooden hoop is plained flat on the side Vegetable
which is to bear the false bottom, and fixed within the Substances.
cask with pegs which do not pass quite through the   v-—
staves. The false bottom, secured together by two
dove-tails is placed upon this hoop, and fixed there by
similar pegs, which penetrate part of the bottom itself,
and by that means prevent it from either rising or turn¬
ing. The cavities between the false bottom and the
sides are then to be closed round with caulker’s stuff
{brut sec), or melted pitch. It must be remembered,
that the vertical axis with its cross-arms is to he placed
beneath each false bottom. The arms are fixed in a
mortice by means of two pins, which prevent them from
vibrating or getting loose. Ihe leaden pipe in which
the extremity of the additional neck is to be inserted, is
not to be put into its place till the first false bottom is
immoveably fixed. A notch is supposed to have been
cut in this bottom to admit the tube 5 and when it is
duly placed, the vacant space is to be made good, first
with tow and then with melted pitch. g
“ Instead of the wooden hoop, which affords a solid
support for the false bottom, it may answer the pur¬
pose very well, if cleats or blocks of wood, three
inches thick, be pinned on, at different parts of the
circumference j or, which is still better, if the trouble
be taken to fit the false bottom so well, that it may
bear simply upon the inclination of the staves, which
naturally oppose its descent. This method would cer¬
tainly be the quickest, and is not very difficult to be
done.
“ When the false bottom is thus fixed, it must be re¬
tained in its place by pins placed at certain distances,
and afterwards made tight by caulking.
“ In order that the tube may not be exposed to vary
in its position, a mark must be made on the edge of the
funnel which terminates one of its extremities, by
which it is easy to ascertain the position of the bended
part below, and place the same in the most favourable
situation. It will be convenient to fix the pipe in this
proper situation, by means of two pegs, which must
be drawn out previous to the last fixing of the false
bottoms.
237. “ When the first or lowest false bottom is se¬
cured in its place, the second arm of the agitator is to
he fastened to the axis, and the other false bottom is
to be placed and made fast in the same manner as the
first.
“ It is particularly necessary to place these two par¬
titions in such a manner, as that the holes of commu¬
nication may not be in the same vertical line, but as
far as possible from each other; that is to say, diame¬
trically opposite. This disposition is necessary in order
that the gas may have time to concentrate in one part,
before it escapes to the other. JFor the same reason,
it is proper to direct the lower opening of the leaden
tube to that extremity of the diameter which is oppo¬
site the pipe of communication from the first to the se¬
cond bottom, in case one distilling vessel only is used.
If two or more communicate with each pneumatic ap¬
paratus, the openings of the tubes must be respectively
disposed at equal distances, as far as possible from each
other, and from the opening in the false bottom next
above them. .
“ If instead of false bottoms the preference should
be
BLEACHING.
Part II. B L E A
Vegetable be given to inverted tubs [cuvettes'), the following me-
bubitances. thod may be used to make the rims or sides, and to fix
them immoveably.
“ The rim may he made in two ways $ either by
short staves, fixed with wooden hoops as usual, scarfed
or hooked together at their two extremities, or else, by
simply fixing a broad wooden rim, like that of a sieve,
round the bottom of this inverted vessel, by means of
small wooden pins with heads.
“ Both these methods are good. The second has
the advantage of taking less room and being cheaper.
If this method be used, the point of the pins must be
made a little thicker than the stem, in order that they
may be less disposed to draw out of the holes bored in
the bottom. With regard to the joining of the two
ends of this kind of broad hoop, it may be effected
very firmly by sewing them together with a flat strip
of osier, as is done in the better sort of chip boxes, or
it may be very well managed by means of two pins
with heads, which may be driven through the overlap¬
ping part, and secured at the other side by driving a
small wedge into the tail of each pin. With regard
to the empty spaces or openings which may be between
the rim and its bottom, they must be stopped with gla¬
ziers putty (mastic du vitrier), which may be smooth¬
ed with oil. This putty is of excellent service when
the muriatic acid is used without potass $ but it is soon
destroyed if potass be put into the pneumatic vessel.
In this case the internal part of the places of junc¬
tion must be pitched or caulked, as has been already
shewn.
“ The method of making these inverted vessels with
staves and hoops, has the advantage of being close,
and not requiring any particular caulking.
238. “ Lastly, Instead of these inverted vessels, the
operation may be performed merely by flat boards with¬
out rims, provided, however, that the upper board be
some inches broader on every side than the lower, in
order that the bubbles of gas may be forced in their
ascent to strike each board in succession, and remain
for a short time in contact with it. The essential cir¬
cumstance in this arrangement will be to keep the up¬
per part of the vessel well closed, which is to be de¬
fended at the hole which admits the axis of the agitator
by a central tube to retain the gas ; and the partial
escape which might take place between that axis and
the covering, must be more effectually prevented by a
cloth soaked in alkaline leys. This method, besides its
convenience, requires less care in fixing, but it renders
it necessary to work the agitator more frequently, in
order to hasten the absorption of the gas in the water.
I have determined to relate all the methods which I
have successfully practised, in order that those who may
undertake any work of this nature, may determine for
themselves, not only with regard to general motives of
preference, but likewise the facility with which their
own situation or circumstances may enable them to
carry the same into execution.
239. “ The next object is to fix these inverted ves¬
sels in the pneumatic apparatus. This is a very simple
operation, and consists merely in fixing pieces of wood
or brackets, three inches in length, under each of the
two bars which connect the pieces of the bottoms of
the inverted vessels together. The bracket pieces are
fastened to the side of the vessel with oak pegs, and
CHIN G. 687
the cross-bars which rest upon them are secured by pins Vegetable
of the same material driven above them and on each Substances,
side, in such a manner that the central perforation is in
its true place, and the whole is incapable of being re¬
moved or disturbed.
“ In this operation, as I have already recommended
with regard to the false bottoms, it is advisable to place
the revolving axis in its proper situation, in order to
ascertain that it is not likely to be impeded in its ac¬
tion. It is best, indeed, to avoid fixing either the two
inverted vessels or the two false bottoms, if these he
used, until the clear movement of the agitator has
been ascertained j without which precaution, there
might probably be occasion to displace them, ei¬
ther in whole, or in part, to remove the impedi¬
ments which might prevent the free motion of the
parts.
“ From the description I have here given, it may be
seen that my pneumatic vessels have only two false bot¬
toms or inverted vessels. I think it advisable not to
use more, because I have remarked that three of these
vessels requiring a greater depth, the distillation became
much more laborious, particularly when I made use of
the intermediate apparatus. 1. The lutes did not so
well resist the pressure of the vapour. 2. It was not
disengaged with the same speed, and consequently the
operation was more tedious. It is better, therefore,
to use shallower vessels, and enlarge their dimensions in
the diametral direction, as I have constantly found.
The proportions which have appealed to me to be ad¬
vantageous for a small common workshop, are foot
in height, 32 inches in diameter below, and. 36 inches
diameter above, all inside measure.
240. “ With regard to the kind of wood for con¬
structing the vessels, it has appeared to me to be almost
a matter of indifference. I used fir, oak, and chesnut,
without observing that either the one or the other was
productive of any inconvenience to the quality or clear¬
ness of the liquor, unless that, at the first or second
distillation, the degree of force was a little altered, by
soaking into the wood. That kind of wood may,
therefore, be used which can the most readily be pro¬
cured. I must, however, observe, that the large casks
in which oil is brought from Languedoc, which are
mostly made of chesnut-tree, are very convenient when
cut in two to form the pneumatic vessels. They have
even an advantage over the oak and fir casks, because
they are closer in the joints, better hooped with iron
and wooden hoops, and impregnated with the oil, in
consequence of which they are not subject to become
dry, how long soever they may be out of use, provided
they are kept in a close place 5 whereas the tubs of fir
wood require to be almost constantly filled with water.
Oak does not contract so soon as fir.
“ It must also be observed that the white deal must
not be used, because it transmits water like a sponge.
The yellow deal is to be preferred, because it under¬
goes less alteration from the fluid, no doubt on ac¬
count of the resin it contains. But if the use of the
white deal, or any other spongy wood cannot be avoid¬
ed, it will be proper to paint the vessel within and
without with one or two good coatings of white lead.
I have had the great satisfaction to observe, that this
treatment not only prevents the water from passing
through, but likewise that the oxygenated muriatic
acid
683
Vegetable acid does not attack this colour, or, if it does attack it,
Substances. a long course of time must be required for that pur-
pose. Melted pitch or tar likewise afford a good de¬
fence for such wooden materials as have this defect.
A mixture of yellow wax and resin is likewise of ex¬
cellent service as a coating for the whole internal sur¬
face of the pneumatic vessel, including the inverted
vessels and the agitator.
241. “ Besides the false bottoms, or inverted vessels
we have described, each apparatus must likewise have
its cover chamfered, to fit the circumference, with
apertures to admit the tubes and the central axis; to¬
gether with two others, namely, one of considerable
size, to receive a funnel through which water is poured
as occasion requires, and the other smaller, to be open¬
ed on such occasions, in order that the air may escape.
The cover being nailed, or rather fastened with wood¬
en pins, in its place, is afterwards secured by glueing
slips of paper over the line where it is applied to the
vessel.
“ Instead of the wooden pneumatic vessel, it might
be more advantageous to use similar vessels of grit¬
stone Ogres'), rolled or cast lead, or cement of lo-
riot (k). Manufacturers must form an estimate of the
advantages to be derived from the expences they incur.
It leaden vessels be used, it will be proper to defend
the soldered places with one or more coats of white
lead, or putty, or resin, or pitch mixed with bees¬
wax. I have tried these preservatives against the
destruction of the solder, and found them answer very
well.
242. “ As it is useful to possess a knowledge of the
height and quantity of water contained in the tub,
there is a tube of glass fixed against its outer side, the
lower end of which is bended and enters the vessel a-
bout five or six inches from its bottom. This part, into
which the tube is stuck by firm pressure, is to be pre¬
viously defended by lute, which is afterwards trim¬
med and laid smooth upon the sides of the tube and
the vessel.
“ Lastly, As it is essentially necessary to ascertain,
from time to time, the strength of the liquor, and to
draw it off upon occasion, I have usually availed my¬
self of a brass cock, covered with several coatings of
white lead for this purpose. By means of this cock,
it is easy to draw off any small quantity of the fluid at
pleasure. It has likewise the advantage of readily fil¬
ling the narrow-mouthed stone-ware or glass vessels, in
which the liquor may be kept when there may be any
to spare, or in case it is thought fit to preserve a quan¬
tity always in readiness.
“ When it is required to draw off the acidulated
water with speed and in abundance, it is convenient
to use one or more wooden tubes or spigots, which may
be opened separately, or all at once, into appropriate
vessels. But it is most convenient that they should
Part II,
have stoppers of cork only, because those of wood, Vegetable
though covered with tow, are veryr apt to burst the Substancei.
wooden tubes by their swelling j besides which they vv —'
very seldom fit with accuracy, unless turned with ex¬
traordinary care.
243. “ With regard to the intermediate vessels men¬
tioned in the Annales de Chimie, in case the operator is
determined to use them, it is proper to avoid using
stoppers of cork to close the orifices, and support the
tubes at the same time. For this substance being very
speedily acted upon by the corrosive gas, exposes the
lutes and closures to frequent derangement, as well as
the tubes which pass through them. At the beginning
of my operations, I supplied the place of these stop¬
pers as follows, when the necks were of a larger dia¬
meter than the tubes. I made stoppers of glass, with
flanches on the sides. These were ground with emery
upon the necks themselves, and they were perforated
quite through with a hole, no larger than was proper
to admit the passage of a glass or leaden tube. This
tube was coated with lute of sufficient thickness, that
it could not pass through the hole without forming a
protuberant piece, which I pressed and smoothed against
the tube as well as the orifice. Or if the stoppers of
cork should, nevertheless, from convenience be chosen,
the necks may be covered with lute, and the stoppers
forced in. In case the interval be small, the parts
may be heated a little, covered with virgin-wax, and
then forced into the neck, and the small vacuities
which may remain may be filled up with the same
wax, melted and poured out of a spoon. Instead of
lute, yellow wax may also be used to fix the tube
of safety j and the same operation may be performed
with regard to the glass or leaden tube, which com¬
municates from the tube to the intermediate vessel.
Stoppers and tubes luted in this manner, are, in some
measure, fixed for ever; for when the wax is once bar*
dened, they are in no further danger.
244. “ If the operator be so situated, that he can
order the intermediate vessels of whatever form he
chooses, it will be advisable to have the orifices of no
greater diameter than just to suffer the tubes to pass
through. No other defence will then be necessary,
than that they should be covered with lute at the time
of placing them, which will render them sufficiently
firm. The rim, or border of these orifices, ought like¬
wise to be large enough to support the mass of lute
which it is proper to apply round the tube*.” * Nichol-
245. Having adjusted the severaL parts of the ap-son’# D*
paratus, we proceed to prepare for the distillation, hychartne,‘
filling the pneumatic tub with water, or such fluid as it
is intended should be impregnated with the gas, and
introducing the materials into the distilling vessels.
The cover of the tub is first to be properly secured
by pegs and slips of paper, pasted over the joinings.
The tub is then (if not done before) to be filled to
within
BLEACHING.
(k) The author does not appear to speak from experience in this place. It is not probable that any manu¬
facturer would be tempted to incur the expence ol stone vessels $ but it is nevertheless proper to remark, that
every stone which could with facility be wrought, contains lime or clay, or both } the former of which would
no doubt be speedily corroded by the liquor, on which it would also have a pernicious effect. It is not likely
that clay would be more durable. So that on the whole there is no temptation to use, and many reasons to reject,
the earths.
'art II.
B L E A
'cgetable within an inch and a half of the top, with soft water,
ibstances. Care must be taken to leave open the orifice, by which
■—v“—the air may be allowed to escape on pouring in the wa¬
ter, as, were fhis close, the water would insinuate itself
under the paper, and destroy the luting.
The distilling vessels are now to be placed in the cap¬
sules, or the vessels of water, and firmly secured. De
Charmes directs the mixture of manganese and muriat
of soda to be introduced at this time ; but perhaps it
would be better to have this ready done before fixing
the vessels, and then nothing remains, but to add the
sulphuric acid, which is best done by means of the
crooked funnel. This being done, the stoppers are to
be well secured, and the various jointures closed up
with lute, where this has not been done before.
246. All these steps (except the addition of the acid)
should be executed the evening before the distillation ;
and the next morning, the acid just distilled may be
added, it the leaden alembics are used, but if glass re¬
torts or bottles be employed, it is safer to allow the acid
to cool before it is poured in.
“ If the acid has been poured in warm, and the mu¬
riat is very dry, and w'ell mixed, the sulphuric acid
not more diluted than has been prescribed, and the
manganese of a good quality, bubbles of air will be
heard to pass into the wooden vessel, through the lead¬
en tube, at the end of two or three minutes. If the
above requisites be wanting, the escape will not take
place till somewhat more than a quarter of an hour.
In either case it is necessary, a few instants after the
pouring of the acid, to place a chafing dish with light¬
ed charcoal beneath the vessel which holds the retort.
247. “ About half an hour after the pouring of the
acid, a considerable effervescence takes place, which
sometimes swells the materials as high as the neck of
the retort, if this last he too small for its charge. The
bubbles of the froth are large, and covered with a kind
of pellicle, formed by a portion of the mixture carried
up during the agitation. This intumescence lasts about
two hours, during which time the bubbles of oxygenat¬
ed muriatic acid gas are most abundantly disengaged
in the water. They even succeed vvith such rapidity,
that the intervals are not distinguishable, and an in¬
cessant noise is heard in the pneumatic vessel, which
very often lasts three or four hours, according to the
management of the fire, and the goodness and accurate
mixture of the materials. The agitation produced by
this rapid escape is commonly such, that it is scarcely
necessary to move the agitator.
“ The fire is not to be renewed till the expiration of
two hours, even though it may have gone out in the
mean time. After this, it is not to be renewed till the
end ot an hour and a half, and after that period, at the
end of an hour, and so forth, without any perceptible
increase of its intensity. It will be sufficient after these
periods to keep up the fire, excepting that during the
last two hours the fire must be maintained without suf¬
fering the charcoal to be almost burned aw'ay, as in the
former cases, before it is renewed. The chafing dish
must be raised upon bricks, to bring it nearer the re¬
tort, during the last hour. I must observe, with re¬
gard to this chafing dish, that the grate must not be
too open, lest the charcoal should be too rapidly con¬
sumed. After the intumescence of the mixture has
ceased, the rapid escape of bubbles does not diminish
Vol. III. Part II. f
C H I N G. 689
for a long time, in consequence of an effervescence Vegetable
which constantly proceeds. It is true that this conti-Substances,
nually diminishes, and towards the end of the distilla- v
tion the bubbles, which pass into the tube appear only at
intervals, notwithstanding the matter in the retort may,
by the gradual augmentation of the heat, be brought
into the state of ebullition. The heat is such, that
eight or nine hours after the commencement of the
operation, the hand can scarcely be endured near the
aperture, or the neck of the retort, or other distilla¬
tory vessel, though between the fourth and sixth hours
the same parts are scarcely warm. The distillation of
one or more retorts or bodies into a single vessel, ac¬
cording to the doses before mentioned, takes usually
eleven or twelve hours, and even less 5 the time for
stopping the distillation is known from the escape of the
bubbles being very slow, and the noise less perceptible.
This slight noise is even a mark to form a judgment of
the concentration of the gas, and the degree of satura¬
tion of the water. In order to hear the bubbles, it is
often necessary to apply the ear against the tub. More¬
over, the adopter of the retort begins to be heated, and
the lute upon its neck becomes a little softened. Ano¬
ther indication that the process is near its termination,
is had from the long vibrations of the water in the in¬
dicatory tube, placed on the outside of the tub, and
likewise in the tube of safety, when an intermediate
vessel is used.
248. “ If a proper regard be not paid to the signs
here enumerated, and the distillation be not stopped,
there will not only be a loss of time and fuel, and a
distillation of mere water $ but the steam, when an in¬
termediate vessel is used, will drive the water through
the tube of safety, and itself immediately follow, if not
instantly remedied by diminishing or removing the fire,
and cooling the neck of the retort and its adopter with
a wet cloth, or, which is better, by drawing the stop¬
per of the retort for an instant.
“ As soon as the distillation is stopped, the impreg¬
nated fluid of the pneumatic vessel is to be drawn off
into tubs or other vessels, proper to receive the goods
which are previously disposed therein. If it be not
convenient to use it immediately, the liquor may be left
in the tub without fear of any perceptible diminution
of its virtue, provided the cover and its joinings be well
closed with lute and stripes of paper pasted on, and
likewise that the space between the axis of the agita¬
tor and the cover be similarly secured. It may like¬
wise be drawn off in stoneware bottles well closed with
corks, covered with lute at the place of their contact.
In this manner the liquid may be preserved till wanted.
I have kept it for several months without its goodness
having been impaired.
249. “ I must observe in this place, that if it be
wished that the liquor at the upper part of the vessel
should be equal in strength to that of the lower, with¬
out regarding the distillation (which may be uselessly
prolonged for upwards of twenty-four hours, by an
effect of the concentration of the gas in the bottom of
the vessel, and the resistance it then opposes to its in¬
troduction, which singularly contributes to increase
the heat of the retort) ; I have found no better me¬
thod than that of drawing off the liquor, either into
earthen pitchers or vessels filled with merchandise
ready for immersion. I have done this after a limited
^48 time,
690 B L E A C H I
Vegetable time, ami repeated proofs of the good quality of the
Substances, fluid. At the end of eight hours distillation, I drew off
‘ one fourth of the contents of the vessel; a second fourth
two hours afterwards 5 a third fourth after ten hours and
a half, or eleven hours} and the rest after twelve hours
distillation, which formed the conclusion.
“ When the liquor is entirely drawn off from the
vessel, it must again be immediately filled with water,
or at least to the height of five or six inches above the
return of the leaden tube, otherwise the gas, which
continues to escape from the distilling vessel, and then
affords no resistance, might attack the pneumatic vessel
itself.
250. “ The fire must be taken from beneath the re¬
tort as soon as the distillation is finished, not only to
prevent the effect of the gaseous vapours, which still
continue slowly to escape, from acting on the sides of
the tub, but likewise to dispose the retorts or bodies to
receive a quantity of warm water, which is to be
poured in up to the neck. There is no reason to fear
an excess of quantity, and the hotter the vessels are, the
better. It is essential, however, that it be not poured
in cold, for fear of breaking the glass. The adopter
is then to be unluted from the neck of the leaden tube,
if the operator chooses j and in order that no vapour
may escape into the workshop, a bit of lute or a cork
may be applied to the beak of the adopter. The sand
bath easily permits the retort to be raised and returned
again to its place, as well as the application of the lute
or stopper to the neck of the adopter, this last being
raised with one hand while the cork is put in with the
other.
“ Nevertheless, as the lutes which connect the adopter
with the retort are somewhat softened towards the end
of the operation, it would be more prudent to leave
every thing in its place, for fear of deranging those
lutes. This danger is greater when the adopter is of
lead, because the great length of this additional piece
tends to force the luting still more on that account.
If it be required to proceed immediately to a new dis¬
tillation, the retort or bottle with its capsule or pan
must be immediately taken from the furnace, and ano¬
ther substituted in its place ready prepared during the
former distillation. This necessarily requires a double
set of vesels.
251. “ When the distilling vessel is cold, or nearly
so, the whole of its contents must be shaken, by hold¬
ing this vessel by the neck with one hand, and apply¬
ing the other to its bottom. The stopper must then
he taken out, and the vessel speedily inverted, shaking
the residue to facilitate its escape. In this last situa¬
tion the retort is to be held by the neck with one hand,
and its side gently resting against the other. The ves¬
sels into which the water and residual matter of the
retorts are poured, should rather be of stoneware, pot¬
tery, or lead, than of wood, unless these last be oil ves¬
sels, which are less subject to dry in the part above the
fluid. If this circumstance be not attended to, there
will be danger of losing great part of the contents.
“ It is most convenient to disengage the retorts or
bodies while they are still warm, which continues to
be the case the next morning after distillation, in con¬
sequence of the heat of the sand bath. If they be left
to cool entirely, the sulphate of soda will crystallize,
a*ud it will be necessary to dissolve in hot water such
2
G* par|-
larger portions as cannot pass through the neck. But Vegetable
this inconvenience is not likely to happen, unless the Substance!.
quantity of water last added be too small, and the re- v—
sidues have been left undisturbed for several days. The
same observation is applicable to that kind of incrusta¬
tion which is formed by the muriat, if not properly
pulverized, dried, or mixed j this cannot be separated
from the bottom of the retort, but by means of hot wa¬
ter poured at different successive times. It is likewise
essential to leave no crust or deposition of muriat, or
other matter, in the vessels which are emptied, unless
the same be moveable, in which case the risk is less.
But if the urgency of business should then require that
the same vessels be used without entirely clearing them,
it will be necessary to range this residual matter on one
side, where it will be less exposed to the heat, and will
a fiord a greater degree of facility for the nitric acid to
act upon it.
“ In order that the vapour which exhales from the
distilling vessels may not prove inconvenient, it is ne¬
cessary to pour in a small quantity of alkaline lixivium
in the first place, which instantly destroys the smell.
This may be done immediately after the end of the
distillation, and the weak alkaline solution may supply
the place of the water used for diluting the residues.
At the instant of pouring this lixivial water, a strong
effervescence takes place ; for which reason it is proper
to pour it in by several successive portions, waiting a
little between each time * TfichoL
252. The oxygenated liquor prepared in this way is Pharma.
very effectual in bleaching the stuffs which are im¬
mersed in it j but at the same time possesses an odour
so sufloeating as to render its use unpleasant and even
injurious to the workmen employed in the process,
should any of it escape. “ I have witnessed, (says
O’Reilly) in an extensive manufactory near Paris, the
cruel sufferings experienced by the wretched workmen,
from these suffocating vapours j I have seen them rol¬
ling on the ground in the excess of agony. Frequent¬
ly even severe disorders are the consequence of the first
effects produced by the oxygenated liquor f.” ± o'Reill
Charmes gives along account of the sufferings which £}sai^
he underwent in his course of experiments with this
acid. It produces symptoms completely resembling
those of a violent cold, but which go off in a day or two
after having desisted from the use of the liquor. '
This inconvenience may be avoided in two ways :
By rendering the vessels for immersion so tight as
to prevent the possibility of the escape of the gas
2. By dissolving in the water some substance which
has the property of so far neutralizing the acid as to
correct its odour, without destroying its bleaching qua¬
lity to any considerable degree.
253. Mr Rupp of Manchester contrived a tub for
immersion, which is admirably adapted to answer the
first purpose. Its construction is simple, and not ex¬
pensive.
“ It would therefore, he desirable to have an apparatus
for the use of the pure oxygenated muriatic acid simply
dissolved in water, which is at once the cheapest and
best vehicle for it. This apparatus must be simple in
its construction, and obtainable at a moderate expence j.
it must confine the liquor in such armanner as to pre¬
vent the escape of the oxygenated muriatic acid gas,
which is not only a loss of power, hut also an inconve¬
nience
’art It.
B L E A C H I N G.
691
I'e^'txble nience to tli« workmen and dangerous to tlieir health ;
ubstances.and it must, at the same time, be so contrived, that every
pai t ot tlie stufi which is confined in it, shall certainly and
necessarily be exposed to the action of the liquor in re¬
gular succession. Havinginvented an apparatus capable
of fulfilling all these conditions^ I have the pleasure of
submitting a description of it to the society, by means
of the annexed drawing.
iate XCI. Fig. 4. is a section of the apparatus. It consists of
an oblong deal cistern, ABCD, made water-tight. A
rib, EE, of ash or beech wood, is firmly fixed to the
middle of tire bottom CD, being mortised into the ends
oftbe cistern. This rib is provided with holes, at FF,
in which two perpendicular axes are to turn. The lid,
AB, has a rim, GO, which sinks and fits into the ci¬
stern. Two tubes, HH, are fixed into the lid, their
centres being perpendicularly over the centres of the
sockets, FF, when the lid is upon the cistern. At I, is
a tube by which the liquor is introduced into the appa¬
ratus. As it is necessary that the space within the rim,
GG, be air-tight, its joints to the lid, and the joints of
the tubes, must be very close j and, if necessary, secured
with pitch. Two perpendicular axes, KL, made of ash
or beech wood, pass through the tubes, HH, and rest
in the sockets, FF. A. piece of strong canvas, M, is
sewed very tight round the axis K, one end of it pro¬
jecting from the axis. The other axis is provided
with a similar piece of canvas. N, pieces of cloth
rolled upon the axis L. Two plain pulleys, 00, are
fixed to the axes, in order to prevent the cloth from
slipping down. The shafts are turned by a moveable
handle, P. Q, a moveable pulley, round which passes
the cord, R. This cord, which is fastened on the oppo¬
site side of the lid (see fig. iv.), and passes over the small
pulley S, produces friction by means of the weight
T. By the spigot and fausset V, the liquor is let off,
when exhausted.
“ Fig. iv. A plan of the apparatus, with the lid ta¬
ken off.
“ The dimensions of this apparatus are calculated
for the purpose of bleaching twelve or fifteen pieces
of ^ calicoes, or any other stuffs of equal breadth and
substance. When the goods are ready for bleach¬
ing, the axis, L, is placed on a frame in the horizontal
position, and one of the pieces, N, being fastened to
the canvas, M, by means of wooden skewers, in the
manner represented in fig. 4. it is rolled upon the axis
by turning it with the handle, P. This operation must
be performed by two persons •, the one turning the axis
and the other directing the piece, which must be rol¬
led on very tight and very even. When the first
piece is on the axis, the next piece is fastened to the
end of it by skewers, and wound on in the same man¬
ner as the first. The same method is pursued till all
the pieces are wound upon the axis. The end of the
last piece is then fastened to the canvas of the axis K.
Both axes are afterwards placed into the cistern, with
their ends in the sockets FF, and the lid is put on the
cistern by passing the axes through the tubes HH.
The handle P is put upon the empty axis, and the pul¬
ley Q upon the axis on which the cloth is rolled, and
the cord R, with the weight T, is put round it and
over the pulley S. The use of the friction, produced
by this weight, is to make the cloth wind tight upon
the other axis. But as the effect of the weight will in- Vegetable
crease as one cylinder increases and the other lessens, I Substances,
recommend that three or four weights he suspended on v'"" •'
the cord, which may be taken off gradually, as the per¬
son who works the machine may find it convenient. As
the weights hang in open hooks, which are fastened to
the cord, it will be little or no trouble to put them on
and to remove them.
“ Things being thus disposed, the bleaching liquor is
to he transferred from the vessels in which it has been
prepared into the apparatus, by a moveable tube passing
through the tube I, and descending to the bottom of
the cistern. This tube being connected with the ves¬
sels, by means of leaden or wood pipes provided with
cocks, hardly any vapours will escape in the transfer.
When the apparatus is filled up to the line a, the
moveable tube is to be withdrawn, and the tube I
closed. As the liquor rises above the edge of the rim
G, and above the tubes HH, it is evident that no eva¬
poration can take place, except where the rim does
not apply closely to the sides of the box : which will,
however, form a very trifling surface, if the carpenter’s
work be decently done. The cloth is now to be
wound from the axis L upon the axis K, by turning
this; and when this is accomplished, the handle P and
pulley Q are to be changed, and the cloth is to be
wound back upon the axis L. This operation is, of
course, to be repeated as often as necessary. It is
plain, that, by this process of winding the cloth front
one axis upon the other, every part of it is exposed,
in the most complete manner, to the action of the li¬
quor in which it is immersed. It will be necessary
to turn, at first, very briskly, not only because the li¬
quor is then the strongest, but also because it requires
a number of revolutions, when the axis is bare, to
move a certain length of cloth in a given time, though
this may be performed by a single revolution when the
axis is filled. Experience must teach how long the
goods are to be worked j nor can any rule be given re¬
specting the quantity and strength of the liquor, in or¬
der to bleach a certain number of pieces. An intelli¬
gent workman will soon attain a sufficient knowledge
of these points. It is hardly necessary to observe, that,
if the liquor should retain any strength after a set of
pieces are bleached with it, it may again be employed
for another set.
“ With a few alterations, this apparatus might be
made applicable to the bleaching of yarn. If, for in¬
stance, the pulley O were removed from the end of the
axis K, and fixed immediately under the tube H $ if it
were perforated in all directions, and tapes or strings
passed through the holes, skains of yarn might be tied to
these tapes underneath the pulley, so as to hang down
towards the bottom of the box. The apparatus being
afterwards filled with bleaching liquor and the axis turn¬
ed, the motion woukl cause every thread to be acted upon
by the liquor. Several axes might thus be turned in
the same box, and being connected with each other by
pulleys, they might all be worked by one person at the
same time j and as all would turn the same way and
with the same speed, the skains could not possibly en¬
tangle each other f.” -r .
254. As far as respects the confinement of the gas, °
this apparatus of Mr Rupp is extremely well contri-Y#p. It
4 S 2 ved,
692 B L E A
Vegetable ved, but in his method of rolling up the stuffs, there is
Substttnees.an inconvenience 'which M. O’Keilly has corrected.
» The inconvenience arises from the axis being vertical,
as when several pieces are rolled upon the same axis,
some parts of them are liable to sway dorvn, and thus
render the action of the bleaching liquor unequal. He
proposes to r-emedy this inconvenience by making the
axis horizontal, and to make the passage of the stuff
through the liquor more complete, he places a roller at
each end of the vessel, above and below, and three others
in the middle, as will be explained when we describe
the apparatus.
255. Soon after the appearance of Berthollet’s paper
in the Annales de Chimie, it was proposed to employ the
oxygenated muriatic acid, in the state of gas applied
immediately to the cloths previously moistened, and we
believe that it has been so employed by some bleachers.
We are, however, disposed to consider the method as
highly injurious to cloth so bleached, although the dan¬
ger to the workmen might be avoided, by the use of the
immersing vessel above described.
256. Tn employing the simple oxygenated liquor, it
is of consequence to possess some criterion, by which we
may ascertain its comparative strength. The method
contrived byM. Descroizilles has been described in pa¬
ragraph 209. Mr Rupp has improved on this, by em¬
ploying the acetite of indigo, prepared by pouring acetite
of lead (sugar of lead) into a solution of indigo in sul¬
phuric acid, as long as any precipitate appeared.
257. The second means of avoiding the unpleasant
effects of the suffocating gas, we have said, consist in
dissolving in the water through which the gas is passed,
some substance which is capable of mixing with, and cor¬
recting it.
Two substances may be employed with this view',
potash and lime.
258. When potash is employed, a quarter of a pound
of the common potash, purified as directed in 165. is to
be used for every pound of muriat of soda introduced
into the distilling apparatus. This is to be dissolved in
the water with which the pneumatic tub is filled. It
is most convenient to dissolve the potash in a small quan¬
tity of water, and add the solution to the water in the
tub ; but care must be taken to stir them well together
with the agitator, that the potash may be equally com¬
bined with the water.
But, although this weak solution of potash certainly
renders the bleaching process much less inconvenient to
the workmen employed, it is yet much more expensive
than the simple oxygenated liquor, and more of it is
necessary to perform the same work than is required of
this latter. Mr Rupp has completely proved this by
a set of ingenious experiments which he made, com¬
paring the quantity of colouring matter in the acetite
of indigo, and in an infusion of cochineal, destroyed
by the same quantity of the two liquors. His experi-
c H I N G. Part II.
ments are highly interesting, and are thus related by Vegetable
himself. Substaneei,
“ Experiment I.—To half an ounce of oxygenated
muriatic acid, I added a solution of indigo in acetous
acid (l), drop by drop, till the oxygenated acid ceased
to destroy any more colour. It destroyed the colour of
160 grains of the acetite of indigo.
“ Experiment II.—A repetition of Experiment I.
The colour of 165 grains of acetite of indigo was de¬
stroyed in this experiment.
“ Experiment III.—A repetition of Experiments I.
and II. The colour of 160 grains of the acetite was
destroyed.
“ Experiment IV.—To half an ounce of the oxyge¬
nated muriatic acid, were added eight drops of pure
potash in a liquid state. This quantity of alkali was
about sufficient to deprive the acid of its noxious odour.
This mixture destroyed the colour of 150 grains of the
acetite of indigo.
“ Experiment V.—A repetition of Experiment IV*
The colour of 145 grains of the acetite was destroyed.
“ Experiment VI.—To half an ounce of the oxyge¬
nated muriatic acid, ten drops of the same alkali were
added. It destroyed the colour of 125 grains of the
acetite of indigo.
“ Experiment VII.—A mixture of half an ounce of
the oxygenated acid, and 15 drops of the alkali, de¬
stroyed the colour of 120 grains of the acetite of in¬
digo.
“ Though I had taken the precaution of avoiding the
sulphuric acid, for the reason stated in the foregoing
note, I was not quite satisfied with these experiments,
on account of errors which might have taken place
through a double affinity. I therefore made the follow¬
ing experiment, in which I employed a decoction of co¬
chineal in water, instead of the acetite of indigo.
“ Experiment VIII.—To half an ounce of the oxyge¬
nated muriatic acid, a decoction of cochineal was added
till the acid ceased to act on its colour. It destroyed
the colour of 390 grains of the decoction.
“ Experiment IX.—Arepetitionof Experiment VIII.
The colour of 385 grains of the decoction was destroyed
in this experiment.
“ Experiment X.—To half an ounce of the acid, six
drops of the liquid alkali were added. This mixture
destroyed the colour of 315 grains of the decoc¬
tion.
“ Experiment XI.—Eight drops of the alkali were
mixed with half an ounce of the acid. This mix¬
ture destroyed the colour of 305 grains of the decoc¬
tion.
In order to shew the usefulness of this apparatus
still more clearly, I request the society to attend to the
following statement of the expence of a given quantity
of bleaching liquor, with and without alkali, but of
equal strength.
With
(l) It has been usual to estimate the strength of the oxygenated muriatic acid by a solution of indigo in sul¬
phuric acid. This method was inadmissible in these experiments on the comparative strength of the bleaching
liquor, with and without alkali ; because the sulphuric acid would have decomposed the muriat of potash, and
thereby produced errors, I therefore added to a solution of indigo in sulphuric acid, after it had been diluted
with water, acetite of lead, till thq sulphuric acid was precipitated with the lead. The indigo remained dissolved
in the acefous acid..
art II.
BLEACHING.
693
'egctable
ibilances.
With Alkali (m).
80 lb. of salt, at l^d. per lb.
60 lb. of oil of vitriol, at 6£d. per lb.
30 lb. of manganese,
20 lb. of pearl-ashes, at 6d. per lb.
L. s. d.
0100
1 12 6
026
0100
But it appears, by the foregoing expe¬
riments, that the liquor loses strength
by an addition of alkali. The value
of this loss, which on an average a-
mounts to 15 per cent, must be add¬
ed to the expence, - - 083
L.3 3 3
Without Alkali.
L. s. d.
80 lb. of salt, - - - o 10 o
60 lb. of oil of vitriol, - - 1126
30 lb. of manganese, - - 026
L. 2 5 O
w It appears from this calculation, that a certain
quantity of the liquor, for the use of my apparatus,
costs only 2l. 5s. j but that the same quantity of the
alkaline liquor costs 3I. 3s. 3d. which is 40 per cent,
more than the other. The aggregate of so considerable
a saving must form a large sum in the extensive manu-
faneAfsf.factures of this country
emoirs, 259. “ Indeed, that the addition of potash should di-
"*•T* minish the bleaching power of the oxygenated muriatic
acid might easily be inferred, from knowing that the
oxygenated muriat of potash, or rather the hyperoxy-
genated muriat of potash, does not in any degree pos¬
sess the power of destroying vegetable colours, and con¬
sequently, the more completely the acid is saturated
with the potash, the more completely is its bleaching
power destroyed.
260. The method of employing lime in correcting
the oxygenated acid was first used in Ireland j and some
years ago, there were not less than thirty apparatus for
preparing this mixture established in the northern parts
[ff*g£ww’,r of that kingdom J. It has been also employed at Glas-
kiay. gow, and a patent, which is now set aside, was obtain¬
ed by a manufacturer there for preparing the liquor,
and a solid oxymuriat of lime, which might be employ¬
ed at all times, and conveyed to any distance.
The pneumatic tub should be of such a capacity as
to hold 800 gallons of water; and to this is to be add¬
ed eight pounds of slaked and well sifted lime, which is
to be well mixed with the water by means of the agita¬
tor, both at the time of making the mixture and during
the distillation.
Between the tub and the distilling vessel is placed a
leaden receiver capable of holding eight gallons, which
is to be two-thirds filled with water, intended to re¬
tain any common muriatic acid which may come over. Vegetable
For this purpose a leaden tube, three inches diameter Substanc€»*
in the bore, proceeds from tbe alembic, and passes near- ¥"
ly to the bottom of the receiver, and another tube of the
same diameter passes from the upper part of this latter
to the pneumatic tub. It is known that the limed wa¬
ter in the tub is saturated with acid, when on drawing
off a portion of the liquor and adding lime to it, the
lime sinks to the bottom. The liquor is then to be
drawn off and mixed with thrice its bulk of water, when
it is fit for bleaching.
The oxymuriat of lime is found to be superior to the
oxymuriat of potash in bleaching, and it is certainly
far less expensive. Barytes (ponderous earth) and
strontites might probably be used with still greater ad¬
vantage, from their greater solubility in water, and
could be procured at a cheaper rate.
261. Previous to immersing the stuffs in any of this
oxygenated liquor, they are to be steeped and fulled
in the same way as in the old method, to deprive them
of the weavers dressing, and the saliva of the spinners.
For this purpose it is proper to employ a weak alkaline
ley*
In Britain and Ireland machinery is commonly em--
ployed in the fulling process, but it is generally so con¬
structed as to wear the cloth. O’Reilly has proposed
the following machine for this purpose.
He constructs a circular platform, which revolves
about a moveable axis, and is supported at the extremi¬
ties of the spokes by rollers of cast iron, the circumfer¬
ence of the platform is indented to receive a paul or
catch, which makes it recede one notch at each stroke
produced by the motion of the mill-tree. To the axis
of the mill-tree are fixed spokes which raise several
wooden beaters, which falling on the platform loaded
with cloth or thread, rinse them more completely than
can be effected in any other way, water being constant¬
ly supplied from gutters which are filled by buckets at¬
tached to a water wheel.
Cotton, thread, and stuffs, more particularly require
this preparation, as without it the ley cannot penetrate
the substance of the cotton, because of the resinous mat¬
ter with which it is impregnated.
In some manufactories a bath of soap is employed ;
but this is unnecessary, as all that is requisite is to form
a combination of the oily matter of the cotton with an
alkali in order to render it soluble in water, and after¬
wards to submit the colouring matter to the action
which another part of the alkali may exert on it. The
preparations which the stuffs must undergo previous to
their immersion in the oxygenated liquors consist there¬
fore in steeping in an alkaline ley, rinsing in water,
and subsequent pressing and wringing.
262. In disposing the apparatus for the immersions,,
regard must be had to the objects on which we are to
work. Skains of thread are to be suspended in the tub
which is intended to receive them ; and the stuffs are
to be rolled round the rollers of the immersing tub
which we have described. The method of doing this
is as follows: A piece of cloth is to be fastened to one
of
(m) I make no mention of the expence attending the preparation of the liquor, it being the same in both,
cases.
694 B L E A
Vegetable of the horizontal axes which correspond to those of Mr
Substances. Rupp, and is to be rolled round by means of the handle
'—""'■r—' till the whole is upon the axis •, to this is fastened a
second piece, which is rolled on in the same manner,
and thus as many pieces as required are rolled upon
Plate XCI.^ie ax*s‘ end of the last piece is then made to
3. pass over the roller h at the upper part of the extremity
ot the tub next to g; is carried down below the roller
h at the lower part ot the same extremity j is carried
along the bottom of the tub under the next roller up
to the roller at the upper part of the partition ; passes
over this to the roller at the bottom of the tub on the
other side ot the partition; so on below the lower roller
at the other end of the tub, over the upper roller of
the same end, from which it passes to the other horizon¬
tal axis, and is there secured.
When the pieces are thus fastened, the immersing
tub is filled with the liquor intended to be used from
the pneumatic tub; and this, if it be the oxymuriat of
lime, may be done by a funnel, but if it be the simple
oxygenated liquor, it is best done by a stop-cock pas¬
sing from the pneumatic tub into the immersing vessel:
when this is filled, the handle of the axis to which the
last end of the cloth is fastened is turned till the whole
cl the cloth is unrolled from the first axis round the
second, and then again the handle of the first is turned
to reverse the situation of the cloth. Thus the cloth is
made to pass to and fro through the liquor till the
strength of this is exhausted.
263. This is discovered by drawing off a little of it,
and adding to it a portion of the acetite of indigo; if
the colour of this is not diminished, the liquor has lost
its bleaching power, and the cloth may be removed,
and the water, if the simple oxygenated liquor was
employed, may be used for a new impregnation.
264. After the stuft's or thread have been removed,
they must be well rinsed and again subjected to an alka¬
line ley. The lixiviations and immersions are repeated
as often as is requisite till the bleaching is completed.
The number of lixiviations and immersions differs
according to the articles. Cotton cloth requires only
two operations of each ; cotton-thread three; fine flax
will require four ; and articles of hemp five or six al¬
ternations.
265. “ As it is of essential consequence to be aware
of certain events, or facts, by which the progress of
the bleaching may be ascertained, I shall here point
out the gradations of colour, which the pieces assume
after each immersion in the oxygenated muriatic acid
without smell, made according to the proportions here
described. The first immersion gives the thread, or
piece-goods, a reddish colour, slightly inclining to yel¬
low ; the second, a colour inclining to ruddy yellow ;
the third, a whitish yellow; the fourth, a white, slight¬
ly inclining to a ruddy tinge ; and by the fifth and
sixth, the white becomes clearer and clearer. These are
very nearly the shades which are assumed by coarse
goode, for the fine goods frequently pass to the second
or third gradation by one single immersion.
“ W hen the liquor is strongly concentrated in potash,
such as that which is denoted in the Annals of Chemi¬
stry by the name ol javelle, the goods immediately,
and without previous lixiviation, assume the third co¬
lour; but I have observed, that it is difficult to bleach
them further without using the sulphuric acid, to re-
5 H I N G. Part II,
move the lees with which they are loaded. It must, VegetaVe
moreover, be remarked, that in order to obtain this Suhstancea.
tone of colour, it is sufficient that the lixivium be dilu-
ted with water, so as to mark two or three degrees on¬
ly on the aerometer, instead of eighteen or twenty,
which it may mark after it is prepared by distillation.
“ I liere are some who do not approve the colour
which the thread acquires after the first immersion ; but
it may immediately be reduced by steeping the goods in •
cold or hot lees. The latter produces its effect more
speedily; and after subsequent rinsing and drying, the
goods retain a gray white colour, more or less deep ac¬
cording to the shade it has received. Many venders
prefer this gray, or reduced colour, on account of its
preferable sale in certain markets.
“ With regard to the bright and perfect white, there
are very few persons in the provinces who care for it,
or appear to give it an exclusive preference. Two rea¬
sons may be given for this : first, because a prejudice is
unfortunately established against the speed with which
the new invented method of bleaching operates : and
secondly, the consumer is constantly persuaded, whether
the bleaching may have been performed in this manner
or in the field, that when the goods have attained an ex¬
treme degree of whiteness, they cannot be so durable
as such as are less white. It is thought to be rotten,
or burnt; and this opinion leads to a preference in fa¬
vour of such linens, and even cottons, which preserve *
after bleaching a solid shade of gray, or dulness in the
white.
“ From a prejudice of the same kind, it is, that in
many countries, the women, particularly the peasants,
prefer their linen, whether for clothing or household use,
simply cleared without bleaching. The orders of pro¬
prietors, or purchasers, must therefore be attended to,
and the number of immersions and lixiviations regula¬
ted accordingly.
“ It may be considered as a rule, that when the goods
no longer communicate a perceptible colour to new
lees, they are entirely finished, and consequently, that
every subsequent lixiviation, or immersion, will be at¬
tended with absolute loss, unless the immersion is neces¬
sary to clear off the last lees, on the supposition that
simple rinsing in a large quantity of water may not be
sufficient.
“ I must, nevertheless, remark, that thread bleached
by the oxygenated muriatic acid, may be used by the
sempstress with much more speed and briskness than
thread of the same quality bleached in the field ; it is
less brittle, and, on that account, is better for the weft,
as well as the warp. It likewise may be struck much
more effectually home to its place in weaving, and does
not afterwards move. I received this valuable observa¬
tion from impartial and unprejudiced manufacturers, for
whom I bleached thread according to this method for
making handkerchiefs * yichol^
266. The theory of these operations is simply this.iora’s D*
The oxygenated liquor supplies to the cloth the place
of the oxygen of the atmospheric air, and this in great¬
er abundance, and in a state which renders its action
on the cloth more expeditious and more complete.
By the union of the oxygen with the carbon of the
colouring matter of the cloth, carbonic acid is formed,
to produce and carry off which is the object of the
several processes which we have described. It is car-
’art II. r BLEACHING. 695
Vegetable ried off by the subsequent lixiviations, in which the
ibstances. alkali answers two purposes ; part of it combining with
’ ■* the carbonic acid forms carbonate of potass, while an¬
other portion acts on the remaining colouring matter,
and dissolving part of it prepares it for another im¬
mersion in the oxygenated liquors.
267. The expence of potash soon suggested to scien¬
tific bleachers the importance of endeavouring to dis¬
cover a substitute for it which might render their
process more economical. Kirwan with his usual in¬
genuity, discovered, that saline sulphurets would an¬
swer the purpose, and Mr Higgins has lately much
improved on the discovery by bringing into use the
sulphuret of lime, which he has fully proved may be
employed as a substitute for potash with the greatest
advantage. His account of his views, and of the me¬
thod of preparing and using this substance are too in¬
teresting not to find a place in this article.
268. “ Since I had the honour of being appointed
chemist to the Linen Board, which is now more than
three years, I have allotted a considerable portion of
my time and attention to the investigation of the prin¬
ciples of that science, applicable to the art in which I
am thus more particularly interested. It appeared,
that until potash could be dispensed with, we must for
ever remain in the power of foreign nations as to our
staple commodity j observing also, that all the late im¬
provements in bleaching were exclusively confined to
the one object, that of imparting oxvgen to the cloth,
in a safe and expeditious manner, but that there had
been no effort made to supersede the necessity of pot¬
ash, by far the most extensive and uncertain article
employed by the bleacher, and for which he is entire¬
ly dependent upon foreign markets j I directed my at¬
tention chiefly to discover a substitute for potash ;
which, provided it should be of Irish production,
though it might be equally expensive, I conceived
would be of the utmost national importance. Impress¬
ed with these ideas, I undertook a series of experi¬
ments with that view.
269. “ To enumerate the many disappointments
and failures I experienced during my investigation,
would be endless, and an unnecessary intrusion upon
my reader. Knowing, from an important observation
of Mr Kirwan, that saline hepars, or the combination
of an alkali with sulphur, might, from its detergent
properties, be advantageously employed in bleaching,
as a substitute for mere alkali, by an obvious analogy
I was led to expect a similar effect from calcareous
hepar, or, more properly speaking, sulphuret of lime,
being a combination of lime and sulphur.
270. “ In these expectations I was not disappoint¬
ed, but at that time (about three years since) I con¬
tented myself (rather through necessity, for large cities
are very unfavourable to experiments on bleaching by
exposure to the atmosphere), with pointing it out to
some of the principal bleachers from the north then in
the town, earnestly recommending it to them to give Vegetable
it a fair trial with and without potash. Since that time, Substance s'
alkaline salts having become progressively dearer, and “-J
in consequence of a late proposal of substituting lime
for potash, in condensing the oxymuriated gas, I was
instigated to resume the subject, and make further and
more varied trials. The result of which has been, that
the use of the sulphuret of lime may be most advanta¬
geously combined with that of the oxymuriated lime,
and that thus cloth may be perfectly whitened with¬
out the use of a particle of alkali. This then alone
would seem to give it a decided preference over the
methods at present in use, while at the same time it
possesses peculiar advantages, and is exempted from the
principal objections to which other substitutes are li¬
able : for, 1st, Quicklime and sulphur, the materials
of which the calcareous hepar consists, are both arti¬
cles of trivial expence, especially as the latter enters
but sparingly into the composition ; 2dly, Their com¬
bination is effected in the easiest and most expeditious
manner possible, and perfectly level with the capacity
of the meanest workman *, 3dly, As the manner of its
application is, by steeping the cloth in it cold, the
saving of fuel is a matter of great magnitude ; and,
lastly, There is no danger to be apprehended in the use
of it, from the unskilfulness or negligence of the work¬
man, as it'appears to be incapable of injuring the tex¬
ture of the cloth.
271. “ The sulphuret of lime is prepared in the
following manner: Sulphur, or brimstone in fine pow¬
der, four pounds ; lime well slaked and sifted, 20 pounds,
water, 16 gallons : these are all to be well mixed and
boiled for about half an hour in an iron vessel, stirring
them briskly from time to time. Soon after the agita¬
tion of boiling is over, the solution of the sulphuret of
lime clears, and may be drawn off free from the in¬
soluble matter, which is considerable, and which rests
upon the. bottom of the boiler (n). The liquor, in this
state, is pretty nearly of the colour of small beer, but
not quite so transparent.
“ Sixteen gallons 'of fresh water are afterwards to
be poured upon the insoluble dregs in the boiler, in
order to separate the whole of the sulphuret from them.
When this clears (being previously well agitated) it is
also to be drawn off and mixed with the first liquor j
to these again, 33 gallons more of water may be added,
which will reduce the liquor to a proper standard for
steeping the cloth.
“ Here we have, (an allowance being made forr
evaporation, and for the quantity retained in the
dregs) 60 gallons of liquor from four pounds of brim¬
stone.
272. “ Although sulphur by itself is not in any sen¬
sible degree soluble in water, and lime but very spa¬
ringly so, water dissolving but about T^th part of its
weight of lime 5 yet the sulphuret of lime is highly so¬
luble (o).
273-
(n) Although lime is one of the constituent principles of the sulphuret, yet being so intimately united to the
sulphur, it has no longer the property of lime j upon the same principle that sulphuric acid in sulphat of potash,
has not the property of that acid.
(o) When the above proportion of lime and sulphur is boiled with only 12 gallons of water, the sulphu-
iet partly crystallizes upon coaling, and when once crystallized, it is not easy of solution.
696 B L E A
Vegetable 273. “ When the linen is freed from the weavers
Substances, dressing, in the manner already described, it is to be
""’’V*—~ steeped in the solution of sulphuret of lime (prepared as
above) for about twelve or eighteen hours, then taken
out and very well washed ; when dry, it is to be steep¬
ed in the oxymuriate of lime for twelve or fourteen
hours, and then washed and dried. This process is to
be repeated six times, that is, six alternate immersions
in each liquor, which I found sufficient to whiten the
linen.
“ When I submitted the linen to six boilings in pot¬
ash, and to six immersions in the oxygenated liquor, it
was not better bleached than the above.
“ The three first boilings in potash, it is true, pro¬
duced a somewhat better effect than as many steeps in
the sulphuret ; but towards the conclusion, that is,
when the linen was bleached, the smallest difference
was not observable as to colour. The linen bleached
with the potash was thinner, or more impoverished than
that treated with sulphuret, and the latter stood the test
of boiling with soap much better than the former, al¬
though it did acquire a slight yellowish tinge, which I
should suppose a week’s, or at most, a fortnight’s grass,
as they term it, would remove.
274. “ I contrasted the effects of hot and cold sul¬
phuret in various temperatures, and although the dif¬
ference appeared in favour of the hot liquor, yet it was
so trifling as not to deserve consideration, or the expen¬
diture of the smallest quantity of fuel.
275. “ When I steeped the linen in the sulphuret
first, and afterwards boiled it in potash, and then im¬
mersed it once in the oxygenated liquor, a better ef¬
fect was produced than from two previous boilings in
potash, or from two steeps in the sulphuret; so that the
two substances seem to co-operate with each other.
“ Indeed, from what I have seen, two successive
steeps in fresh sulphuret, previous to the immersion in
the oxygenated liquor, seemed to afford very little bet¬
ter effect than a single one, which is not the case w'ith
respect to potash.
276. “ It was observable, that the cloth was inva¬
riably thicker or more swelled coming out of the sul¬
phuret, than after being boiled in potash, and remain¬
ed so even when washed and dried.
“ It appears to me, that the sulphuret opens the
fibres of ihe linen more speedily and better than the lat¬
ter-, by softening and swelling, rather than dissol¬
ving, the resinous or colouring matter. This accounts
for the better effect of potash upon the linen when
previously steeped in the sulphuret, than when used by
itself.
277. “ Probably those bleachers who do not at pre¬
sent find it convenient to use the oxygenated liquor,
but, continue to bleach by exposure to air, may derive
some advantage from this, by using the sulphuret and
potash conjointly or alternately.
“ Mr John Duffy, of Ball’s bridge (who from his
knowledge of chemistry is very well acquainted with
the principles of bleaching), was kind enough to repeat
the above experiments, and his repsrt to me corre-
sponded with my own observations.
278. “ It is almost impossible to ascertain to the
full extent, more especially by small experiments in
an elaborately, the many advantages any substance
3
CHING. Part II.
not hitherto used in bleaching, will afford by varying -.r
the mode of application. SuK^
“ The experimenter does a great deal by discover- ' y—
ing the efficacy, proving the practicability, and ascer¬
taining the safest and most economical method of di¬
rectly using it, and also the best proportion of it. Be¬
fore he can arrive at any one of these, many a round
of changes are necessary ; indeed a greater number than
any man who is not used to experiments can be aware
of. But I should hope that the bleacher need not hesi¬
tate to use it in the state in which I present it to him,
more especially as he runs no risk of injuring the cloth
with it. If he can make more of it hereafter, I shall
feel happy upon the occasion ; no discovery was ever
brought to perfection at once.
“ How gradually, and yet how progressively, the
steam engine, from its first invention by the marquis of
Worcester, was brought to its present degree of per¬
fection ! Undoubtedly, it was just so with respect to al¬
kalies, the substances now used by the bleachers; it
must have taken a considerable time after their first
application in bleaching, before they could be made
the most of.
279. “ I will now conclude by pointing out the ad¬
vantage likely to accrue from the use of the sulphuret,
to the nation, and also the saving to the individual.
280. “ Hence it seems, that the quantity of foreign
alkalies imported into the kingdom every year, amounts
to 265,968 pounds; and that the quantity used in
bleaching alone, amounts to about 2x5,307 pounds an¬
nually.
“ The average price of brimstone for the last three
years, is about 25I. a-ton, which is at the i-ate nearly
of 2jd. a- pound ; four pounds of brimstone, and twenty
pounds ot lime, as already observed, will produce 60
gallons of liquor. In this country twenty pounds of
lime may be valued at about 4d. so that the bleacher
may have the 60 gallons at the expence of is. id.
281. “ By what I could learn from different bleach¬
ers, the common allowance of alkali for 60 gallons of
water is six pounds of barilla or four pounds of potash
at the very least, and most bleachers use more than
this. The price of four pounds of potash at the rate of
65I. a-ton, is about 2s. 4d. which is 2d. more than
double the price of the sulphuret; but as the brimstone
must be ground, an allowance should be made for it;
and being easy of pulverization, a farthing per pound
is an ample consideration for the expence attending it.
282. “ The saving of fuel only remains now to be
taken into consideration ; and as this cannot be calcu¬
lated with any degree of accuracy, 1 shall content my¬
self by particularizing facts. In the first place, but
16 gallons of liquid are to he boiled in preparing 60
gallons of the sulphuret, while the whole 60 gallons
must be boiled when the alkali is used ; hence it might
appear that two-thirds of the fuel are saved in the
quantity of liquor, but it is not quite so much, suppose
we estimate it at one half, which is rather under-rating
it. Let us add to this the time necessary to boil the
different liquors ; the sulphuret requires but about
half an hour, and the alkaline lixivium at the very
least seven hours, to boil the linen in it, which is in the
proportion of one to fourteen.
283. “ The saving altogether to the bleacher from
this
'art II. B L E A
egctable this statement, is obviously very considerable 5 and as
ibstknces. the Wicklow copper mines are sufficient to supply the
""V"—whole kingdom, or indeed two such kingdoms, with
abundance of sulphur, let the consumption be ever so
great, the entire of the alkali, or 215,307 pounds, must
be annually saved to the nation.
“ But suppose two-thirds only of the quantity of
'alkali generally consumed in bleaching were dispensed
with by the use of the sulphuret (which is a supposition
not warranted by my experiments), still the saving to
the nation, and to the individual, must evidently be
Wiggins's great indeed
Jiitty. 284. The goods which have been bleached in the
methods above described, require to undergo what are
called dressings, to give them a clear and bright white.
This is particularly necessary for the finer piece goods,
sewing thread, stockings, gloves, and all cotton ar¬
ticles.
After the last immersion, the goods are to be pressed
or wrung, and then immersed in a bath of water, hold¬
ing in solution about a hundredth part of its weight of
sulphuric acid. The acidulous bath may be employed
cold, but it is better to heat it so moderately, that the
hand may be borne in it. The best way to make the
mixture of sulphuric, acid and water, is to invert the
bottle containing the acid in the water, when the acid
by its greater specific gravity quits the bottle, and by
agitation for a considerable time combines with the
water.
It is usual to leave the goods for some days in the
bath, but it is safer to allow them to remain only a few
hours, and to renew the bath till they are sufficiently
white. Too many articles must not be crowded toge¬
ther, nor too much pressed, that the acid may exert its
action equably.
After removing the goods from the acid bath, they
must be wrung, and washed repeatedly in fair water till
they no longer retain any marks of acidity.
285. It is customary to give to linen cloth a bluish
shade : this is produced by dispersing through the water
in which it was last rinsed, a little indigo or Prussian
blue; or it may be given by a solution of white or mot-
led soap, in which the cloth is washed, while it still re¬
tains a little acid.
286. As accidents are apt to occur during these pro¬
cesses, it is proper to inform the artist how these may
be remedied.
287. “ Accidents in the distillation.—The principal
accident which is capable of interrupting the distilla¬
tion, is when the lutes of the adopter suffer the gas to
escape. The most speedy remedy, in this case, to pre¬
vent the exhalation of the acid, which cannot be retain¬
ed but with difficulty, seldom for any length of time,
and then very imperfectly, in consequence of its great
expansion ; the shortest method, I say, at least if the
distillation be not near its conclusion, is to remove the
fire immediately from beneath the capsule of the re¬
tort, and to suffer this last to cool for a certain time, by
raising it a little in its sand bath. If it be not possible
to take it out of the furnace, together with its capsule,
on account of the heat, or its sticking too fast, the
adopter must be united from the funnel of the leaden
tube, and the aperture of this tube closed with a cork,
or lute, to prevent the gas of the pneumatic vessel from
evaporating ; after which the retort must be raised, and
Vol. III. Part II. a
C H I N G. 697
placed gently upon a bag of strawj or on coarse cloths Vegetable
folded together 5 and then holding the retort by its Substances,
neck, near the flexure, the adopter must be entirely -v—'
unluted, by twisting it round and drawing it off. The
orifice of the neck of the retort is then to be closed
with a cork stopper, but not so closely but that a very
small portion of gas may be suffered to escape, for fear
of an explosion. The stopper of the neck may, for
greater safety, be slightly raised. This precaution is
necessary, on account of the great expansion of the
muriatic acid gas. The old lute must then be taken
off, as well from the adopter as the retort, and the
places to which they were applied must be well clean¬
ed, in order to receive fresh lute, after having carefully
wiped off the moisture with a cloth or a sponge. If
the lute which comes off be still good, it may be knead¬
ed again, adding, if required, a small quantity of boil¬
ed oil, or it may be mixed with new lute, if it be burn¬
ed or decomposed. This decomposition in the fat lute
may be known by the white or reddish colour which
it acquires, and the facility with which it breaks, on
account of its having lost the gluten which afforded it
that toughness and tenacity, on which its goodness
chiefly depends.
288. “ With regard to the lute of linseed cake, it
must, in almost every case, be totally renewed, particu¬
larly when internally applied, because the heat hardens
it too much to admit of its being kneaded again, with
any moderate degree of facility ; the decomposition of
this lute is known by the yellow colour it acquires, and
the contraction it undergoes from the effect of the heat.
The lutes being kneaded to a proper consistence, and du¬
ly placed according to the direction laid down in
(232.) the adopter is to be fixed, previously removing
the stopper from the mouth of the retort, and placing
another in that of the small end of the adopter, to pre¬
vent any inconvenience from the vapour which might
issue out during the time of fixing it. This vapour is
likewise condensed within the adopter, in consequence
of its coldness. The retort is then to be placed, as be¬
fore, on the furnace, the adopter uncorked, and its beak
luted into the tube of lead ; after which, the fire is to
be replaced beneath the capsule, and distillation very
speedily recommences, and proceeds as usual. The ope¬
ration is a work of some delicacy j it requires to be per¬
formed with speed, and great care must be taken while
placing the lutes and the adopter in their proper situa¬
tions, to stand always in such a position, that the cur¬
rent of the external air may drive the vapour from the
ojierator himself.
289. “ If the accident here described should take
place towards the end of the distillation, as it may
sometimes happen, in consequence of the strong heat
which, at that time, may soften the lutes, it will be
sufficient if the fire be taken from beneath the capsule.
The distillation soon ceases when this is done, particu¬
larly if care be taken to condense the gas, by the pru¬
dent application of wet cloths on the neck of the retort,
as well as of the adopter. . ^
290. “ This inconvenience would not take place, if
the workmen in those glass-houses which are principal¬
ly employed in the fabrication of chemical vessels,
could make retorts with necks recurved in the form of
the adopter. These kind of vessels may be assiduously
supplied by making use of a tube of lead, so formed as
4 T to
698 B L E A
Vegetable to serve instead of the adopter, as I have already ob-
b'abstanccs. served, with regard to the tubulated bottles or bodies
^ ' (p)- If, by accident, the lute which is adapted should
fail, or suffer the gas to pass through, it may easily be
stopped, by applying a new lute to the place of junction.
Instead of the leaden tube, we may substitute, with still
greater convenience (the danger of breaking except¬
ed), a tube of glass, ot which the end nearest the bot¬
tle, or tubulated body, should be ground with emery.
By these means there would be no application of lute,
and consequently no danger to be feared with regard
to the filtration of the gas, the escape of which is easi¬
ly perceived by the smell which diffuses itself through
the workshop, and is more particularly perceived when
the nose is applied near the vessels, or the lute. But
as this last method of discovering the place where the
lute has failed may be attended with the most serious
consequences, if the greatest precaution be not used,
it is more prudent to apply an open bottle of ammoniac
near the suspected place ; at the instant that it is pre¬
sented, a white fume is formed, which immediately
points out the defective spot. The bottle must be pre¬
sented above the current of air, which takes place near
the lute, or in the workshop. If this precaution be
not attended to, the operator might be induced to re¬
move a good lute, instead of one which was really de¬
fective.
291. “ On the other hand, if in the course of the di¬
stillation, and for want of keeping up the heat, the fluid
in the pneumatic vessel should be absorbed and rise into
the distilling apparatus, it is necessary the instant it is
perceived to withdraw for a moment the stopper out of
the neck of the retort, where, as I have already had
occasion to observe, the absorption instantly ceases. Ne¬
vertheless, if, for want of being observed in time, the
water should rise so far as partly to fill the retort or bo¬
dy (for it never entirely fills it), the distillation will be
stopped, from the coldness of the water, and its too
great quantity. The shortest remedy is to draw out the
excess of water, which is thus introduced into the distil¬
ling vessel, by the assistance of a glass pump, or syphon,
and afterwards to heat the same vessel, first returning
the water into the pneumatic vessel, if thought expedi¬
ent : but if the distillation be properly attended to, this
accident can never happen.
292. “ Occidents in the lixiviations and immersions.
I place the accidents arising from these two operations
in the same class, because they can scarcely take place,
but by the joint operation of both.
“ Any article which is badly cleared of the lixivi¬
um, and afterwards immersed in the oxygenated muri¬
atic acid, becomes almost immediately of a nankeen co¬
lour, particularly in the folds, either in spots where cer¬
tain parts have not been sufficiently rinsed, or else the
colour is general, if the whole has not been well rin¬
sed.
“ The same accident happens if soot has fallen on
the linen or thread. The difference is simply in the
colour, which approaches more to brown. The colours
are capable of becoming more and more deep if the
CHIN G. Part II.
mismanagement be not remedied as soon as perceived, Vegetable
and that before the goods are subjected to other im-Substances,
meisions in the alkaline lees, or of the oxvgenated " v—1
muriatic acid. The same accident is to be expected,
if the goods, though white at the time of their immer¬
sion, are suffered to remain too long in the bleaching
liquor. Ibis does not fail to happen, particularly if the
aitides which are suffered to remain even in a weak
solution, are kept in that state the whole night. The
next day they are found to be yellow, or charged with
lixivium.
293. “ The only method of remedying these acci¬
dents consists in the use of water, slightly acidulated with
sulphuric acid, no matter whether cold or hot, but the
hot solution operates more speedily. The spotted or
tinged goods are to be soaked in this water for a few
minutes, or a quarter of an hour, accordingly as the co¬
lour may be more or less deep, in consequence of a se¬
ries of lixiviations or immersions, more or less repeat¬
ed. In this situation the offensive colour is seen almost
immediately to disappear.
294* “ Instead of making a sulphuric solution ex¬
pressly for that purpose, that which has served for the
dressing may answer very well : neither of these need
be stronger than has been there directed, unless the
goods be considerably charged with colour, and there
be a great quantity to immerse at once. The acidu¬
lated water is tried by the aerometer, and if, in conse¬
quence of having been used, it should not be suffici¬
ently strong, it may be restored by adding the requi¬
site quantity of acid for that purpose. It is necessary,
when any new acid is poured in, to mix it well
with the water before any goods are immersed there-
“ It must, in this place, be observed, that though the
thread and piece-goods may become charged with a fo¬
reign colour, in consequence of the accidents here
pointed out, both these articles are frequently very well
bleached at the under surface. It is even a proof that
the muriatic acid has operated effectually, ill causing the
lixivium to produce such an effect: but these accidents
are difficult to be observed on objects simply cleared, or
m the crude state. In the latter case, a permanency
of the original colour may alone shew the necessity of
using the sulphuric acid, particularly when the lees and
the muriatic acid which have been used are not at all
exhausted.
295. u Accidents attending the preparation or dressing.
When the piece-goods are immersed in a solution of
soap, after having been taken out of the sulphuric
acid, while they are still too strongly acidulated, or
instead of rinsing them they be immediately conveyed
from the acid into the solution of soap ; this last solution
is subject to curdle, or become immediately decompos¬
ed 3 whence the operator has the mortification to observe
the whole surface of the goods covered with an infinite
number of small spots of oil, in the form of clots, of a
yellowish colour, and very tenacious, particularly on
stockings or cotton goods, because they incorporate as
it were with the nap or texture of the goods : they dis¬
appear
(p) Ibis last method appears to be preferable to every other; because it requires only aslight attention to the
lute, and can never produce those dangers which arise from the use of retorts.
2
Part IT.
BLEACHING.
Vegetable appear in consequence of mirdi washing or rinsing. I
ubstairces. must particularly mention an accident which may hap-
’—^ ' pen to any one, namely, tliat of placing by mistake
stockings or other bleached objects, which have re¬
ceived their first treatment in the solution of soap, upon
, articles which have been exposed to the vapour of sul¬
phur. I have placed stockings upon gauze, which had
been whitened by sulphur, and found, that after they
had remained in this situation for the course of a night,
they became entirely of a brown red at the place of con¬
tact. They appeared as if burnt or marked with a hot
iron. This colour, which, no dduht, was produced by
the combination of the volatile sulphuric acid, with the
alkali of the soap, with which the stockings were still
impregnated to acertain degree, immediately disappeared
upon exposing them, first, to the action of a bath of the
odorant oxygenated muriatic acid, and afterwards to
another of water, slightly acidulated with the sulphuric
acid.
296. “ Every salt with excess of acid, such as the
salt of sorrel, removes the ruddy spots here mentioned
with equal ease. It is true, that this salt cannot with
convenience be used, on account of its dearness; hut
the residue of the distilling vessels, that is to say, the
water which holds in solution the residue of the distil¬
lation of the oxygenated muriatic acid, is very service¬
able in this process, and may be advantageously used
either hot or cold, to remove those very tenacious spots,
which are not at all capable of being removed by soap
or alkaline leys.
297. “ When the spots of oxide of iron, commonly
distinguished by the name of ironmould, are small,
they may easily he taken out with the salt of sorrel in
powder, laid upon the spot itself, which is afterwards
to be moistened with a small quantity of water ; or
the part which is spotted may be steeped in a solution
of the same salt. It soon becomes fainter, and at
length disappears, after which the place must be very
well rinsed. The sulphuric acid may be usefully ap¬
plied instead of the salt of sorrel, as Bertbollet seems
to affirm in his memoir; and I have proved with suc¬
cess, that, though the spots may penetrate quite through
the cloth, and be very broad, yet if they he soaked in
a bath of sulphuric acid, either warm or cold, when the
goods are taken out of the bath of muriatic acid, the
effect will he that the spots insensibly disappear. If the
goods be of close texture, the operation of the acid is
slower (q,).
298. “ With regard to the spots of rust which are
frequently seen on thread or cotton stockings, they
are produced by the needles of the engine, and com¬
monly disappear during the dressing, that is to say, in
the bath of sulphuric acid. The same observation is
true of the spots of rust which sometimes appear on the
piece-goods, in consequence of their having been in
contact with iron. In general, the older any iron-
mould may be, the more tenacious it is, and the more
difficult to be effaced; bat every spot may be made to
disappear in time.
299. “ It frequently happens that piece-goods are
699
spotted with tar, during their carriage by water, in Vegetable
boats, where they are liable to be placed upon the Substances,
pitchy parts of the vessels, or in contact with tarred ■“y--"
ropes. These spots may be soon taken out, by rubbing
them with oil of olive, which dissolves the tar; or still
better, by holding the part in spirit of wine, if this pro¬
cess should he thought more convenient. The latter me¬
thod operates by the complete solution of the tar.
300. “ With regard to spots of wine, cyder, or any
kind of fruit, they may be effaced by dropping a few
drops of the oxygenated muriatic acid upon them, which
causes them almost instantly to disappear. But there are
certain fruits, such as plums, of which the spots are
more difficult to efface ; they requiring one or two lixi-
viations. 1 hose that are gray, or reddish, at first, assume
a fine yellow colour in the muriatic acid, which does not
disappear during a subsequent lixiviation, but requires a
second immersion in the bleaching liquor.
301. “ I must not omit a second very simple and
economical method to take out every kind of spot
occasioned by fruits, such as strawberries, gooseber¬
ries, &c. It consists in causing the spotted part to
imbibe water, and afterwards to burn one or two
common brimstone matches over the place : the sul¬
phurous gas which is discharged soon causes the spot to
disappear.
302. “ There is a kind of indelible spot which is
produced from red ochre and the charcoal black, with
which the %veavers mark the turns of the beam, in order
to ascertain the length of the chain of piece-goods. This
kind of mark, which is impressed on the goods at equal
distances, is so far from being effaced, that it seems, in
some measure, to receive strength from the oxygenated
muriatic acid, notwithstanding the intermediate action
of the leys.”
Use of the Oxygenated Muriatic Acid in discharging
the colours of dyed or printed goods.
303. There are several processes allied to bleaching,
which depend on the agency of the oxygenated muriatic
acid, and of which we shall therefore treat before pro¬
ceeding to describe the remaining bleaching processes.
These are the discharging of dyed or printed colours ;
the bleaching of paper ; the cleaning of books, maps,
and prints ; and the bleaching of wax.
304. White silk and wool, on being steeped in oxy¬
genated muriatic acid, acquire a yellow colour; heace
this acid is of no use in bleaching these animal substan¬
ces. It readily discharges the simple colours with
which silk has been dyed, such as, indigo blue, gray,
lilac and crimson, and gray, orange, green, Saxon blue,
apple green, fawn colour, brown lemon, and dipped
blue, with which wool has been dyed. It leaves the
goods, however, of the same yellow cast as it imparts
to white wool and silk; but this yellow colour is readi¬
ly altered to a clear white, by immersion in the sulphu¬
rous acid, as described in the bleaching of these sub¬
stances.
Silk dyed with some compound colours, as violets^
greens, browns, blacks, acquires the same yellow co¬
lour,
(Q,) The salt of sorrel is sold in London, in small bottles, by the perfumers and apothecaries, under the name
tA salt of lemon. The sulphuric acid, as prescribed above, must of course be diluted.
4 T 3
7oo . B L E A
Vegetable lour, but not so speedily, two immersions being usually
Substances, found necessary to discharge the colours completely.
tl'6 brown violet and puce colours, which are com¬
posed of blue and red, the blue commonly first disap¬
pears, and by a subsequent immersion the red is dis¬
charged. The same happens with the yellow, which
forms a part of the composition of green and orange,
the blue of the former, and the red" of the latter re¬
maining. In blacks which are composed of brown
laid upon a blue or a root colour, the brown first va¬
nishes.
When more than one immersion is required, it is
proper to use a bath of sulphuric acid between them j
and this is particularly necessary where iron has enter¬
ed into any of the colours.
These effects of the oxygenated muriatic acid serve
to explain the action of the air in discharging the less
permanent colours of woollen and silken goods, and in
giving to white clothes a yellow colour. It is evident¬
ly oxygen which is in both cases the active principle,
but its action is more speedy in the acid than in the at¬
mosphere, from the facility with which the former is
decomposed.
3°5* 'll'6 colours employed in dyeing or printing
cottons or linens are of tu'o kinds j chemical, or, as they
are sometimes called, false colours, and fast or true co¬
lours. The former disappear in a very short time up¬
on one immersion in the acid, except one description of
yellow', which contains in its composition sulphate of
copper (blue vitriol), sulphate of iron (green vitriol or
copperas), and acetite of lead (sugar of lead). Goods
which have been dyed with this colour must first be
well scoured with soap, which so far separates or de¬
composes the colour, that a subsequent immersion will
readily discharge^ it, whereas, without this previous
scouring, the acid would have completely fixed the
colour.
Several of the fast colours, as the blues, yellow's, and
blacks, require a lixiviation before immersion 5 and
two, or sometimes three, immersions, with intermediate
baths of sulphuric acid, are necessary completely to re¬
move them. Most other fast colours yield to a single
immersion. A peculiar exception to this is the Adria-
nople red, which never becomes entirely white, how¬
ever numerous the lixiviations, immersions, and acid
baths employed.
306. “ There is another thing no less worthy of re¬
mark, with regard to the black colour, which forms
the outline or border of designs, namely, that if the
muslin, or cleared fine piece, upon which the different
flowers were designed which have been discharged, be
folded together in several folds, or placed upon a dark-
coloured ground, the effaced outline becomes visible
according to the exposure of the piece under a certain
obliquity of the light, exhibiting the appearance of a
slight trace. The kind of outline which, under these
circumstances, becomes visible, cannot be compared to
any thing better than the embroidery of muslins pla¬
ced on a coloured ground. This trace seen at a cer¬
tain distance has the same effect, and even when close¬
ly observed, it is impossible to determine what it is, be¬
cause it is not visible, except under a certain reflection
of the light; nevertheless the whole piece appears
white, and of a very superior quality. I have remark-
3.
C H I N G. ' part p.
ed, that this effect does not take place excepting with Vegetable
regard to the old prints of flowered designs of the true Substances.
India calicoes imported from that part of the globe.v—'
I'or in the printed goods of our manufactures, such as
those of Paris, Joly, St Denis, and Beauvais, all the
traces of the designs completely disappeared, to my
great surprise. It must, therefore, necessarily be ad¬
mitted, that the difference in these results depends on
the qualities of the mordants, which are more or less
oily, or the manner of striking the blocks in the act of
printing.
“ If tl)13 effect were produced by the mordant with
the outlines of the designs in the pieces of printed
goods, it might, perhaps, be of advantage to take the
same method of obtaining a substitute, instead of the
rich expensive embroideries with which the fine mus¬
lins of India and Switzerland are covered. These de¬
signs likewise do not appear in their full effect, but
when they are placed upon a transparent stuff of a
deep colour, which exhibits all the outline. This me¬
thod of producing so rich an effect would be extreme¬
ly simple, singularly permanent, and highly economi¬
cal. I think, however, that I may add, that, after ma¬
ny trials, I have at last succeeded in discharging this
mordant, sometimes by a bath of sulphuric acid, rather
stronger than usual, and at other times by soaping the
goods before and after the bath. This management is
very essential to be known, in order that the operator
may not be exposed to the mortification of seeing the
same designs return again by the second action of the
madder applied to the same bleached piece in a subse¬
quent printing process. To obviate every accident of
this kind, it will be proper to inform the owner which
of the methods have been used to bleach their goods,
and in case the new method may have been used, it
would then be prudent to pass them previously through
a good bath of sulphuric acid # Nkhol.
307. Colours laid in oil, which do not contain mad-sow’sDe
der, must be first heated in an alkaline ley, and then Chamet.
scoured with soap. '
Bleaching of Paper.
3°8. The bleaching of paper has been rendered con¬
siderably more expeditious by the use of the oxygenat¬
ed muriatic acid. I he following processes are given
by De Charmes, as extracted from different French me¬
moirs.
Bleaching of old printed Papers, to be ivorkld up again.
309. “ 1. Boil your printed papers for an instant in
solution of soda rendered caustic by potash. The soda
of varech is good.
“ 2. Steep them in soapwater, and then wash them,
after which the material may be decomposed, or redu¬
ced to a pulp, by the machinery of the paper-mill. The
washing with soap may be omitted without any great
inconvenience.
Bleaching of old written Papers, to be worked up again.
310. “ Steep your papers in a cold solution of sul¬
phuric acid in Avater, after which wash them before
they are taken to the mill. If the acidulated water be
heated, it will be so much the more effectual.
Bleaching
’art II. B L E A
Vegetable Bleaching of printed Papers without destroying the tex-
nbstances. ture of the Leaves.
”J"~V 311* “ !• Steep the leaves in a caustic solution of
soda, either hot or cold. 2. And in a solution of soap.
3. Arrange the sheets alternately between cloths, in
the same manner as the paper-makers dispose thin
sheets of paper when delivered from the form. 4. Sub¬
ject the leaves to the press, and they will become whiter,
unless they were originally loaded with size and printers
ink. If the leaves should not be entirely white by this
first operation, repeat the process a second, and if ne¬
cessary, a third time. The bleached leaves, when dried
and pressed, may he used again for the same purposes
as before.
Bleaching of old written Papers without destroying the
texture of the Leaves.
312. “ I. Steep the paper in water acidulated with
sulphuric acid, either hot or cold. 2. And in the solu¬
tion of oxygenated muriatic acid. These papers, when
pressed and dried, will be fit for use as before.
1'he method of bleaching Bags of the natural brown co¬
lour for the Manufactory of white Paper.
313. “ I. Let the rags be opened or separated from
each other, after previous soaking or maceration for a
longer or a shorter time, according to their texture and
quantity. 2. Give a lixiviation in caustic vegetable or
mineral alkali. 3. Pass them through the oxygenated
muriatic acid, more or less concentrated with alkali.
4. Let the mass be then worked for a sufficient time in
the apparatus of the paper-mill, and it may be advan¬
tageously substituted instead of that which is afforded by
white rags.
“ The white colour will be still better, if, after the
maceration, the rags be opened, and subjected, as usual,
to the action of the mill; after which the paste itself
must be subjected to one lixiviation, one immersion, and
a bath of sulphuric acid. The mass being then well
washed and pressed out, may be thrown into a trough to
be manufactured.
Method of bleaching Bags, of all Colours whatever, in
order to make white Paper.
314. “ 1. Let the rags be opened, as before. 2.
Steep them in the oxygenated muriatic acid. 3. If,
as it commonly happens, the colour is discharged by
this first immersion, let these bleached and decomposed
rags be immersed in water acidulated with sulphuric
acid. 4. Complete the disorganization by the mallets or
cylinders of the mill, after having previously well washed
them.
“ If the colour should not be sufficiently discharged
by the first immersion in the oxygenated muriatic acid,
which is very seldom the case, give them another alka¬
line lixiviation, and after that a second immersion in
the oxygenated muriatic acid ; after which steep them
in water acidulated with sulphuric acid, either hot or
cold, the latter of which is the most active and effec¬
tual ; and, lastly, let them be subjected to the action of
the mallets or cylinders.
“ Red and blue colours are most tenacious. With
regard to black, it will be sufficient if they be steeped
after opening their texture, 1. In a diluted solution of
sulphuric acid j .and, 2. In a solution of the oxygena-
C H I N G.
ted muriatic acid.
701
If the operator could know that Vegetable
these rags had been dyed in the raw state, a still more Substances,
brilliant white might be obtained by following the se-' " v
cond method described in the preceding article. But
it very seldom happens that coloured rags have not
been bleached before they were dyed. The manipu¬
lations may be performed with sufficient speed to bleach
at least three thousand pounds weight in the course of
the day, without appropriating any extraordinary edi¬
fice or workshop to this purpose*.” * fwhol-
315. But by far the best method of bleaching V^charmes
per, is by applying the gas to it while in the state of
paste j the method of doing which, with the steps
which led to it, are thus related in a Memoir of C.
Loysel, in the Ann. de Chimie, as translated by Mr
Nicholson, in his valuable Journal, from which we havg
extracted it.
316. “ The process of bleaching the paste of the paper-
maker, even when produced from the most common rags,
will communicate to it the quality of the best sort. By
these means our paper manufactories may supply our
wants in fine white paper, and even obtain the prefer¬
ence in foreign markets. The result of this operation
would be, that a greater number of workmen would
find employment, and the advantages of this increase
of industry would be of still greater national value, than
even the foreign export which might be expected.
“ The success of bleaching the paste of paper by the
method of Citizen Berthollet is no longer problemati¬
cal. The application which has been made to the pa¬
per used in making assignats, has placed this question
beyond all doubt as to its solution.
317. “ It w^as at the commencement of the year 2,
that the committee of assignats and moneys of the'' na¬
tional convention, of which I was a member, resolved
to employ this method, together with that of stereo-
typage, which had been adopted, to oppose new obstacles
to the practice of forgery.
“ We particularly consulted Citizens Berthollet,
Fourcroy, and Guyton on this enterprise. Their ap¬
probation of the project, and the information they af¬
forded us, soon gave us the power of realizing it.
We were also assisted with the knowledge of Citi¬
zens Welter, Athenas, Alban, Carny, Marchais and
Ribaucour, who with great zeal communicated their
processes, and permitted us to inspect their several ma¬
nufactories.
318. “Our first processes were executed precisely
according to the method of Citizen Berthollet. The
rag was subjected in succession to different leys, to
baths of the bleaching liquor and sulphuric acid point¬
ed out in his memoir. Berthollet had shown, and we
were also convinced by our own experience, that the
gas is less confined in the simple fluid, prepared with¬
out addition of fixed alkali, than it is in that which con¬
tains potash or soda ; and that it is consequently more
disposed to separate and enter into new combinations.
We therefore at first made use of this simple liquor;
but the workmen soon exhibited a strong repugnance
to its use on account of the fumes it emits, which are
extremely inconvenient, even when chalk is diffused in
the liquor. This inconvenience forced us to abandon
it, though with regret. This sacrifice was so much
the more considerable, as it occasioned a loss of time,
and considerable increase of expence. We decided that
702
Vegetable we would receive tke gas in a solution of potash j but
Substances.as the doses in which this alkali may be used have li-
v-il_* ni-ts 0p greaf extent, we endeavoured to keep as near
as possible to that preparation which is sufficient to pre¬
vent the spontaneous disengagement of the gas, and
by that means cause the liquor to lose the odour we
were desirous of avoiding. This dose was 5 kilograms
of potash to too litres of water (11 pounds avoirdu¬
pois, to 214- ale gallons.)
319. “ The rags bleached in this manner became of
the most brilliant white. Nevertheless, a part of this
perfection disappeared, when the rag was converted
into paste, and that paste into paper. It was easy to
discover the cause ; namely, that the interior parts of
the thread in the rag were less exposed to the action of
the liquor than those at the surface. This motive de¬
termined us to abandon the bleaching of the rags, and
to operate upon the paste itself.
320. “ We were here opposed by new obstacles.
When the rag is converted into a paste proper to be
worked, its coherence is such that it settles, and no
longer permits the leys and baths of the bleaching li¬
quor to penetrate through all its parts, in consequence
of which property the paper was found to have veins
and different shades of colour. We remedied this in¬
convenience, by taking the matter in a mean state be¬
tween the rag and the paste proper to be converted in¬
to sheets of paper. We succeeded in this respect by
destroying the texture of the rag under the first cylin¬
der so as to separate its fibres, an operation which usu¬
ally lasted two hours for a pile of 50 kilograms. Thus
it was, that by successively avoiding the extremes of
too much and too little mechanical connexion, we ad¬
vanced towards our object.
321. “The apparatus which Citizen Welter imagin¬
ed, and of which Citizen Berthollet has given a de¬
scription in the first volume of the Journal of Arts and
Manufactures, is applicable to all the methods which
can be employed to procure the different kinds of
bleaching liquor, whether the water of the receiver con¬
tains fixed alkali or not; whether the muriatic acid he
used on the oxyd of manganese, or the gas be obtained
by sulphuric acid, upon the mixture of oxyd of manga¬
nese and muriate of soda. This apparatus is particularly
preferable to all others in the case where the water of
the receiver contains no alkali, because the absorption
of the gas is favoured by its being brought into contact
with the water at a great number of surfaces. But as
we had determined to use a solution of potash, we were
able to make some modifications of this apparatus.
322. “ One thousand litres of water are placed in the
receiver, holding in solution fifty kilograms of white
purified and calcined potash.
“ When the disengagement of gas is effected by the
muriatic acid, the materials are used in the following
doses:
Part II.
323' “ The operation is begun by charging the re. Vegei,w,
ceiver with 1000 litres of alkaline w'ater, after whichSuWanccs.
the aperture 8 is closed with its stopper well luted. VT-—'
Each matrass is then placed in its sand-bed ; and pul¬
verized manganese is introduced. The muriatic acid
is poured upon the manganese, and the stoppers into
which the tubes of communication pass, are duly pla¬
ced. The juncture is luted with paper soaked in starch.
And the lute is left to dry from six to twelve hours,
after which the fire is lighted in the furnaces.
324. “ The process of distillation lasts from ten to
twelve hours. When it is finished the tubes are un¬
luted, the fire extinguished, and the matrasses suffered
to cool in their sand beds, till the temperature of these
beds has descended to 60 or 70 degrees, (centigrade)
at which period, water of the same heat is poured into
the matrasses. The water dilutes the residue of the
distillation, which mixture is to be poured out, and
the vessels suffered to cool in baskets containing straw.
If the precaution of introducing hot water in this man¬
ner upon the residue were not taken, it would become
so solid when the operation is performed with sulphuric
acid, in the manner we are about to describe, that it
could not be extracted without much trouble and dan¬
ger of breaking the vessels.
325. “ If the disengagement of the gas he made by
sulphuric acid, the following doses are used :
Oxyd of manganese 25 kilograms
Muriate of soda 70
Sulphuric acid at 50 degrees of density 25
Total 120
“ The acid is to be diluted with an equal bulk of
water, or 16 litres, which will reduce its density to 31
degrees.
“ The eighth part of this for each matrass amounts
to 14-I- kilograms.
326. “ The oxyd of manganese and muriate of soda
being pulverized are mixed together. The mati’ass is
to be charged and the operation conducted as before
described. This method is the most economical, be¬
cause the sulphuric acid is cheaper than the muriatic,
and also because it is practicable to obtain from the re¬
sidue of the distillation, the soda of the muriate which
is converted into sulphate of soda j that salt being de¬
composable by well known-processes.
“ In order to measure the force of these liquors, or
their bleaching power, we made use of the solution of
indigo prescribed by Citizen Descroizilles.
“ One part by measure of the bleaching liquid pre¬
pared as before mentioned, will usually destroy the blue
colour of nine parts of proof solution of indigo j it was
of the same strength as that of Javel, prepared by Citi¬
zen Alban.
BLEACHING.
Oxyd of manganese 34 kilograms
Muriatic acid at 20 degrees
of density according to the
aerometer of Baume,
92
which makes for each of the eight distilling vessels Ill-
kilograms of materials.
Choice and Preparation of the Rags.
327. “ The strength or tenacity of paper depends
upon the staple or fibre of the material from which it
is made. Rags of new cloth and cordage compose a
paper more tough than old rags, and the first of these
materials presents a great variety on account of the
quality of the hemp or flax of which they are formed.
art IT.
BLEACHING.
eatable Rags of tine new cloth, whether raw or bleached by the
!).tances. oxygenated muriatic acid, stand in t!ie first rank, after
—  ' which cordage and old rags may be classed.
328. “ Paper intended for bills of exchange, or other
commercial and legal instruments, ought to be tough,
in order that it may not be easily torn when thin. For
this paper the materials of the first class must be entire¬
ly, or in large proportion, employed. The price which
the consumers are disposed to pay for this article, is
sufficient to indemnify the manufacturer for his care and
industry, as this kind of paper is sold in France for 5
or 6 franks the kilogram.
329. “ The other papers also require to be more or
less tough, according to their thinness, and the use to
which they are applied, but a clear white colour is
sought in paper of every description. The first ope¬
ration to which the rags are subjected is sorting, in
order that each branch of the manufacture may have
its appropriate material, after which they are cut with
shears into pieces of about one decimeter, or three or
four inches square.
330. “ I will suppose that the object of the manu¬
facturer, is to obtain paper of a beautiful white. If it
is intended to be thin, so that, for example, a ream of
the size denominated raisin should weigh only four or
five kilograms, that is to say, about one-third of the
weight of common paper of the same form j the manu¬
facturer makes choice either of new rags already of a
fine white, or of unbleached rags.
“ In the case of the white rags, it is sufficient to pass
them under the first cylindei1, then to give them a bath
of the bleaching liquor, aiid afterwards a bath of sul¬
phuric acid, as we shall proceed to direct; after which
they are passed under the finishing cylinder for seven
or eight hours, and, lastly, conveyed to the working
trough to be made into sheets of paper.
331. “ Rags, which have never been bleached, may
be treated by either of the following processes : that
is to say, the first, which preserves the utmost degree
of toughness to the paper, but is likewise the most ex¬
pensive, consists in decomposing the rag, and afterwards
applying the method of Citizen Berthollet for bleach¬
ing piece goods; namely, subjecting it to three or four
lixiviations, and afterwards alternately to lixiviations,
baths of the bleaching liquor, and baths of sulphuric
acid. The weight of the raw unbleached material
is diminished from 50 to 45 per cent, in these opera¬
tions.
332. “ This method was the first which we Used for
the assignat paper; but we soon perceived that we
might omit most of the lixiviations and baths of the
bleaching fluid, and still preserve as much toughness
as the paper required. Nothing further was necessary
for this purpose than to sutler the rag to undergo a de¬
gree of fermentation more or less advanced, by leaving
it to rot. In this operation the colouring matter under¬
goes a slow combustion, and passes to a kind of sapona¬
ceous state, and is carried off by the water, by washing
the rags in the vessel of the first cylinder.
“ One single lixiviation, to baths of the bleaching
liquor, and one of sulphuric acid, are then sufficient to
bleach completely the raw rags or cordage. This is
the second method. We were not at that time ac¬
quainted with the economical process of Citizen Chap-
tal in the operations of lixiviation. This will, no
7°3
doubt, be used ; but the effect of rotting, carefully con- Vegetable
ducted, will always be found very advantageous. Substances.
333. “ Lastly, If the rags be neither perfectly white, '
nor raw and unbleached, but in a medium state,
they are left to rot for a shorter time, for example,
12 or 14 days, and are taken up when the heat of the
fermentation raises the thermometer to 3c0 or 350,
after which the process is to be conducted as before
mentioned.
Composition of a bath of the bleaching liquor, for a pile
oj decomposed rags, weighing 50 kilograms.
334. “ For each heap of rags, a certain number, for
example, eight or nine, wooden tubs are disposed in a
line, capable of containing in the whole 600 litres of
water: 430 litres of pure water are poured in, and 90
litres of bleaching liquor are added in equal portions
to each of the vessels, after which the 50 kilograms of
decomposed rags are disposed in equal portions in each
tub. The stuff is left for about 12 hours in this bath,
agitating it from time to time, after which it is to be
completely washed in clean water, and put into a bath
of sulphuric acid, composed of water 200 litres, and
acid at 50 degrees 3 kilograms, which bath will then
have the strength of about four degrees of the aerometer
of Baume.
“ The immersion in the bath must continue for three
quarters of an hour or an hour, after which the materi¬
als must be well washed in clear water, and carried to
the mill to be manufactured.
335* If action of the baths of bleaching li¬
quor be not exhausted by the immersion of the decom-
gosed rags (which may be ascertained by the solution of
indigo), it may be applied to other materials of the
same kind.
336. “ Such was the state in which we left this new
art in the year 3. Since that time Citizen Welter, to
whom chemistry and the arts are indebted for a num¬
ber of ingenious processes, has simplified that of pre¬
paring the bleaching liquor. He has found, for ex¬
ample, that instead of the three vessels of the receiver,
it is sufficient to employ two even for the simple liquor
that contains no fixed alkali.
“ It was before seen that we were obliged to employ
an alkaline solution in the receiver, to prevent that
odour which the simple liquor emits when paper stuff
is agitated in the baths. The use of alkali answered
our purpose very well in this respect; but this ex¬
penditure, besides weakening the bleaching liquor, near¬
ly doubled our expence. Though this difference in the
price was of little consequence with regard to the object
we then had in view, it is not so with regard to the
common operation upon paper intended for sale. Every
means of economy must then be used. Now Citizen
Welter found that it is easy to obviate the inconveni¬
ence of the same liquor in the operation. His method
consists in no longer agitating the goods or material in
an open bath, but to close it exactly by means of a
cover ; and he agitates it by means of cross pieces at¬
tached to a handle turned on the outside.
337. “ A rough estimate of the price of the simple
bleaching liquor prepared by the sulphuric acid, this be¬
ing the most economical process.
“ The receiver is supposed to contain 1000 litres of
water.
kilograms
7°4
Vegetable
Substances. 25 kilograms of oxide of manganese cost at
' v ' J most
70 kilograms of muriate of soda
25 kilograms of sulphuric acid, at 50 c.
Three days work principal men
Three days do. assistant or labourer
Fuel, about
Wear and tear
Our apparatus cost 622 franks, and the car¬
riage and fixing increased our expence to
1000 franks, the interest of which, at 10
per cent, is 100 franks ; and if the work
be repeated so many times in the year,
the interest per operation will be
Fr. 83 o
“ Hence the litre of bleaching liquor will cost near¬
ly 9 cents in round numbers (r).
338. “ Estimate of the increase of expence occasion¬
ed in the operation upon a pile of 50 kilograms of the
paste of paper, supposing one bath of the bleaching
liquor and one of sulphuric acid, which is most com¬
monly the case.
Ninety litres of the bleaching liquor at nine
cents 8 fr. 10 c.
Three kilograms of sulphuric acid, at
1 fr. 50 c. 4 30
Workmanship o 50
Total, 13 20
Which gives for each kilogram of paper an ex¬
pence of 0,262 franks, or about 27 cents. Now the
common paper in the market usually sells for about
I fr. 30 c. or I fr. 40 c. the kilogram, and with the
simple augmentation of 27 cents for the operations of
bleaching, it obtains the preference beyond that which
is sold for three, four, or even five franks, which can
only be obtained in a limited quantity, on account of
the selection of rags. The foregoing methods must
therefore produce a great diminution in the price of
fine paper. They are more particularly advantageous
when applied to the manufacture of thin paper, because
the expences of bleaching are always proportioned to
the weight of the material, and consequently ax-e least
upon thin paper.”
Of Whitening and Cleaning Fruits, Maps, Books, and
other Articles of Papier.
339. The oxygenated muriatic acid was first applied
to this purpose by Citizen Chaptal, and the method has
been employed with the greatest success by Citizens
Vialard and Heudier.
The acid in the state of gas might be used for this
purpose, but it is safer and equally efficacious to em¬
ploy it in the liquid form.
Part II,
340. ‘ Simple immersion in oxygenated muriatic acid, Vegetable
letting the article remain in it a longer or shorter space Substances,
of time, according to the strength of the liquid, tvill be "V-'
sufficient to whiten an engraving. If it be required to
whiten the paper of a bound hook, as it is necessary that
all the leaves should be moistened by the acid, care must
be taken to open the book well, and to make the boards
rest on the edge of the vessel, in such a manner that the
paper alone be dipped in the liquid: the leaves must be
jseparated from each other, in order that they be equal-
y moistened on both sides.
‘ The liquor assumes a yellow tint, and the paper be¬
comes white in the same proportion. At the end of two
or three hours the book may be taken from the acid li¬
quor and plunged into pure water, with the same care
and precaution as recommended in regard to the acid
liquor, that the water may exactly touch the two sur¬
faces of each leaf. The water must be renewed every
hour, to extract the acid remaining in the paper, and
to dissipate the disagreeable smell.
341. ‘ By following this process, there is some dan¬
ger that the pages will not be all equally whitened,
either because the leaves have not been sufficiently se¬
parated, or because the liquid has had more action on
the front margins than on those near the binding. On
this account the practice followed by book-binders,
when they wish to whiten printed paper, is to be pre¬
ferred. They destroy the binding entirely, that they
may give to each leal an equal and perfect immersion j
and this is the second process recommended by M.
Chaptal.
“ They begin (says he) by unsewing the book
and separating it into leaves, which they place in cases
formed in a leaden tub, with very thin slips of wood or .
glass, so that the leaves when laid flat are separated
from each other by intervals scarcely sensible. The
acid is then poured in, making it fall on the sides of
the tub, in order that the leaves may not be deranged
by its motion. When the workman judges, by the
whiteness of the paper, that it has been sufficiently
acted upon by the acid, it is drawn off by a cock at the
bottom of the tub, and its place is supplied by clear
fresh water, which weakens and carries off the remains
of the acid, as well as its strong smell. The leaves are
then to be dried, and, after being pressed, may be again
bound up.
“ The leaves may be placed also vertically in the
tub; and this position seems to possess some advantage,
as they will then be less liable to be torn. With this
view I constructed a wooden frame, which I adjusted
to the proper height, according to the size of the leaves
which I wished to whiten. This frame supported very
thin slips of wood, leaving only the space of half a line
between them. I placed two leaves in each of these
intervals, and kept them fixed in their place by two
small wooden wedges, which I pushed in between the
slips. When the paper was whitened I lifted up the
frame with the leaves, and plunged them into cold
water to remove the remains of the acid, as well as the
smell. This process I prefer to the other.
342,
BLEACHING.
Fr. cent.
O
7 o
37 So
9 o
4 5°
3 °
6 o
(r) As the price of all these several items in France must materially differ from the same in England, it was
thought unnecessary to reduce the numbers.
’art IT.
regetable 342- “ By this operation books are not only cleaned,
itxtanceB. but the paper acquires a degree of whiteness superior to
what it possessed when first made. The use of this acid
is attended also with the valuable advantage of destroy¬
ing ink spots. This liquor has no action upon spots of
oil, or animal grease j but it has been long known, that
a weak solution of potash will effectually remove stains
of that kind.
343* “ When I had to repair prints so torn that
they exhibited only scraps pasted upon other paper, I
was alraid of losing these fragments in the liquid, be¬
cause the paste became dissolved. In such cases I en¬
closed the prints in a cylindrical glass vessel, which I
inverted on the water in which I had put the mixture
proper^ for extricating the oxygenated muriatic acid
gas. This vapour, by filling the whole inside of the
jar, acted upon the print ; extracted the grease as well
as ink spots j and the fragments remained pasted to the
paper.”
344* Walard and Heudier have by this process
restored several of the most valuable books of the
French national library, and we believe they were the
first who carried Chaptal’s process into actual execu¬
tion.
It is necessary, that we may fully succeed in this pro¬
cess, to be very precise in the quantity of the acid em¬
ployed, and to use considerable address in the manage¬
ment of it, otherwise we shall injure the paper, and
render the books incapable of being bound again. But
with caution and a little experience, the method is per¬
fectly safe and easy.
345* As it i* convenient to be able to prepare the
acid employed for this purpose in the most simple and
economical way, we may recommend the following:
“ To oxygenate the muriatic acid, nothing is neces¬
sary but to dilute it, and mix it in a very strong glass-
vessel with manganese, in such a manner, that the mix¬
ture may not occupy the whole content of the glass.
Air bubbles are formed on the surface of the liquor ;
the empty space becomes filled with a greenish vapour;
and, at the end of some hours, the acid may be farther
diluted with water and then used. It has an acid taste,
because the whole is not saturated with oxygen ; but it
possesses all the virtues of the oxygenated muriatic
acid. I his process may be followed when there is not
time to set up an apparatus for distilling, in order to
procure the oxygenated acid.”
34^' ^ has been said, that the acid is not capable of
removing spots of grease from books and prints. A
method of doing this was lately published by M. Des-
champs junior, and is as follows :
“ After having gently warmed the paper stained
with gicase, wax, oil, or any fat body whatever, take
out as much as possible of it, by means, of blotting-
paper. Then dip a small brush in the essential oil of
well rectified spirit of turpentine, heated almost to
ebullition (for when cold it acts only very weakly)
and draw it gently over both sides of the paper
which must be carefully kept warm. This opera¬
tion must be repeated as many times as the quantity
of the fat body imbibed by the paper, or the thick¬
ness of the paper, may render necessary. When the
greasy substance is entirely removed, recourse may be
had to the following method to restore the paper
to its former whiteness, which is not completely re-
Vol. III. Fart II. r 7 ^
BLEACHING.
71
stored by the first process. Dip another brush in highly Vegetable
rectified spirit of wine, and draw it, in like manner, Substances,
over the place which was stained, and particularly round ' 1 v11" '
the edges, to remove the border, that would still pre¬
sent a stain. By employing these means, with proper
caution, the spot will totally disappear; the paper will
resume its original whiteness ; and if the process has
been employed on a part written on with common ink,
or printed with printers ink, it will experience no alte¬
ration.
Of Bleaching Yellow Wax.
347* Before the discovery of oxymuriatic acid and
its application to bleaching, this was effected by expo-
sing the yellow wax, formed into thin cakes, to the
free action of the air, sun, and dews. The acid, hovv-
evei, as being fax' more expeditious, is to be prefer¬
red.
In the bleaching of wax, it is proper to employ the
simple acid, and its action would be the most effectual
if used in the gaseous form. For this purpose, a pneu¬
matic tub, with a cover secured in the manner recom¬
mended by Rupp, is the most proper. This should be
filled with water, and the wax shred very fine must be
introduced, and the gas made to pass through the wa¬
ter, while the agitator is kept in constant motion. In
the course of an hour or two the wax will be bleached,
may be separated from the water, melted and formed
into cakes.
On applying the Rcsiduums to profit.
348. Before we conclude our account of the various
bleaching processes in which the oxygenated muriatic
acid is concerned, it will be proper to inquire how far
the materials employed in procuring this acid may be
turned to account after the distillation.
Ihe substances which remain in the distilling articles
are a portion of undecomposed oxide of manganese,
some sulphat of manganese, and a large quantity of sui-
phat of soda (Glauber’s salt).
The whole mixture may be employed with advantage
as a glazing to coarse earthen-ware. This glazing has
a dark colour, something like that of bronze, which it
receives from the manganese : it is attended with this
advantage, that it is perfectly safe, and is therefore
much superior to any glazing, where lead enters as a
part of the composition.
349. But the object of most importance is to decom¬
pose the sulphat of soda, in order to obtain the alkali.
Ihere are several methods of effecting this, but perhaps
the two following are the best.
350. Ihe first is that contrived by M. M. Malherbe
and Athenas. The first object in this process, is to re¬
duce the sulphate to the state of an alkaline sulphuret
(liver of sulphur).
“ Malherbe and Athenas have succeeded in this by
employing iron as the intermediate substance : they
mixed one part of charcoal dust with nine parts of the
sulphat of soda, and exposed the mixture to the heat
of a reverberating furnace : when the sulphuret enter¬
ed into combustion, they added from three to five parts
of old iron rendered as small as possible ; and the whole
being fused together, they obtained a black paste, com ¬
posed of iron, soda, sulphat of iron, &c. This mix.
lure wras lixiviated, and filtered through a basket filled
4 U ' with
706
Vegetable with lime : it was then evaporated to dryness, and the
Substances, residuum was calcined in a reverberating furnace.
When soda of a superior quality is required, the washing
and calcination must be repeated.
“ Dize and Le Blanc decomposed the sulphat of
soda, by means of the carbonate of lime, in order to
neutralize the alkali, by saturating it, at a very high
temperature, with carbonic acid. Their process consists
in taking two parts of sulphat of soda, dried to deprive
it of its water of crystallization, two parts of well
ground chalk (carbonate of lime), and one part of
charcoal powder, mixing them well in a muffled mor¬
tar, and then bringing the mixture to a white heat in
a reverberating furnace : when the matter is fused, it is
stirred till the sulphur is consumed, and the ebullition
and the jet of the flame produced by the hydrogen gas
have ceased to appear. It is then taken from the fur¬
nace, and it may be lixiviated to obtain the soda very
pure. In whatever manner the sulphat is decomposed,
this object merits the greatest attention at bleachrields
on account of the considerable degree of economy
which results from the dilferent manipulations. The
ley of the oxygenated muriatic acid will be obtained at
little or no expence by bleachers, when they seriously
set about extracting the soda from the sulphat formed
during the distillation.
Bleaching by Sulphuric Acid.
351. From the effects produced by sulphuric acid
in the processes of bleaching, in which it has been seen
to act a material part, a proposal was lately made to
employ it solely for this purpose, but we believe the
project has never been carried into execution. It is
certain, that a very weak bath containing one part of
^Philosoph. acid to live hundred of water * may be employed with
Magazine, j|]e greatest safety; and when cloth remains immersed
p' 2^‘ in it for a considerable time, it acquires a high degree
of whiteness.
0/' Bleaching by Steam.
352. The various processes which we have described,
form nearly a complete abridgment of the history of
bleaching ; we have endeavoured to follow as closely as
possible the progress of human genius, and to show how
the rapid advances of modern chemistry have contribut¬
ed to the improvement of this interesting art.
353. We are now to describe a new method, for
which we are indebted to C. Chaptal. This ingeni¬
ous and learned man, published some time since a me¬
moir on the method of bleaching with steam, a process
which we received from the Levant soon after the in¬
troduction of the art of dyeing Adrianople red, and
which has been ever since employed in the interior of
France, under the name of Blanchiment a la fumee. At
the time when the disinterested Chaptal published an
account of this method, it was a secret, the knowledge
of which was confined to a few manufacturers. They
only employed it in bleaching cotton in the states of
Part II.
wool and thread, in imitation of the eastern nations; Vegetable
but Chaptal, with his usual ingenuity, perceived the Substances,
possibility of extending the process to the bleaching of^-'v'—'
thread of flax and hemp, and he invited the assistance
of artists for the purpose of effecting this desirable
end.
354. This appeal of Chaptal, induced many manu¬
facturers as well in France as in other countries, to make
trial of this new method j and it was tried nearly at the
same time at Paris and in Ireland. The apparatus
constructed by C. Bawens, proprietor of the manufac¬
tory of cotton thread and stufi's at Bons Homines near
Passy, gave surprising results. He could bleach from
two to three thousand ells of cotton in a day, with such
facility, and at so moderate an expence, as proved
the new method to be incomparably better than any
before employed. The first trial was made on 1500 ells
of cloth intended for printing $ after the operation, it
exhibited no variegation of surface, no shades, but one
uniform complete whiteness. His apparatus resembles
perfectly what has been described by C. Chaptal, and
answers extremely well for bleaching cotton, both in the
wool and when spun into thread. There have been se¬
veral improvements lately made on it, which render it
much more advantageous and of more extensive utility j
but it will be proper, before examining these, to de¬
scribe the apparatus recommended by Chaptal, which
we shall do in his own words.
355. “ At the distance of about sixteen inches above
the grate of a common furnace, supplied with pit-coal,
is fixed a copper boiler of a round form, 18 inches
deep and four feet broad. The edges of this copper
turned back, are made to rest on the side-walls of the
brick-work of the furnace j they are about seven inches
broad. The rest of the furnace is built of hewn stone,
and forms an oval boiler six feet in height, and five feet
in breadth at the centre : the upper part of this boiler
has a round hole eighteen inches in diameter, which
may be shut by a moveable piece of strong stone, or a
copper lid adapted to it. Upon the edge of the copper
boiler which forms the bottom of this kind of Papin’s
digester, is placed a grating made of wooden bars, so
close together, that the cotton placed on them cannot
fall through, and sufficiently strong to bear the weight
of about 1600 pounds.”
356. In the apparatus of C. Bawens, the mode of
heating employed in Count Bumford’s furnaces was
used to reduce the quantity of fuel consumed, and thus
render the process more economical. The heat of the
chimney also served to heat the bath of weak sulphuric
acid.
In other countries an apparatus has been employed,
which possesses the advantage of winding up the stuffs
within the copper, which resembles that of a steam en¬
gine with its tubes, safety valves, and collars of leather j
but it has this inconvenience, that the stuff must be in¬
troduced at the top (s).
357. C. O’Reilly, to whom Chaptal had communicat¬
ed
BLEACHING.
(s) The following passage translated by Nicholson from the Journal de Physique, is worthy of notice.
“ A new method of bleaching has just been tried at Balynah, and has completely succeeded. The principle
of the process appears to have been published by a French chemist, Chaptal, who is much respected by our manu¬
facturers. I speak of the art of discolouring piece-goods in a digester, by caustic alkaline ley. Though our
first
•art IT. ' BLEACHING. 707
'eatable ed his ideas, soon conceived methods of improving the
ibstances. apparatus, and of applying it to various purposes suited
—v" to tlie different articles.
The first apparatus which he proposed to be execut¬
ed at Jouv, represented an arched chamber of hewn
stone, six feet eight inches long by three feet ten
inches broad ; and three feet and a half high above
the level of the wooden grate. (See Plate XCIl. fig.
8.). At one of the extremities is a door three feet long
and two high, which is closed by a plate of cast iron,
in which a hole is made for the introduction of a coni¬
cal valve which is kept in its situation by a screw and
a spring made as powerful as possible. The object of
this valve was to guard against an explosion which might
take place from the sudden expansion of the steam,
which there is some cause to dread. The door was
moveable, and fastened by ten bars and as many screws,
which press against the rabbit, which is covered with
tow or wet leather) so as to prevent any of the steam
from escaping this way. The door should be made
with two iron handles, that it may be removed with
the more ease.
The copper which forms the bottom of this appara¬
tus, and in which the caustic alkaline solution is boil¬
ed, is 18 inches deep, and its other dimensions are less
by four inches than those of the chamber. This gives
room for the edges of the copper, and for a wooden
grate on which the men may walk and conduct the
operations. In the middle of the chamber are fixed
two reels, on which from eighteen to twenty pieces of
cloth are rolled. The axes of these reels pass through
collars of leather, which prevent the escape of the
steam j they have handles on the outside to roll and
unroll the pieces, and there is a regulator communi- Vegetable
eating with the inside of the copper, to point out the Substances,
height of the liquor, and shew how far it is exhausted. ^ J
It is heated after Count llumi'ord’s plan.
358. Another apparatus was constructed at Troyes
for the purpose of bleaching hosiery. As these goods
cannot be rolled up ; and as the action of the vapour
might be lessened were they heaped together, O’Reilly
contrived frames of wood covered with cloth, and
placed at the distance of four inches, one above ano¬
ther. Upon these frames the goods were spread in such
a manner that the vapour rising from the copper might
penetrate to every part, destroy the colouring matter,
and thus complete the bleaching.
359. From some farther observations he was led to
propose a roller placed in such a way, that the cloth
rolled on it might on occasion be drawn through the
liquor in the copper, to moisten it now and then, and
thus increase the action of the liquor *. -* o'Reilty
360. After this account of O’Reilly’s apparatus, ofI2s$at,
which a more particular description will be given pre¬
sently, we come to the actual method of bleaching by
steam. The following are the directions given by
Chaptal.
361. “ The cotton, disposed in handfuls, must first
be impregnated with a slight solution of soda rendered
caustic by lime. This operation is performed in a
wooden or stone trough, in which the cotton is trod
down by means of the feet covered with wooden shoes.
When the alkaline liquor has uniformly penetrated the
cotton, it is put into the boiler, and piled up on the
wooden grate before mentioned j the redundant liquor
runs through the bars into the copper boiler, and forms
a
first attempts did not perfectly succeed, we were not discouraged. The linen was exposed to the action of va¬
pour in the apparatus, but it was not equally affected, as it appeared to be blotched in several places j we were,
therefore obliged to construct an apparatus, in order to unroll and separate the goods, and to expose the greatest
surface possible to the action of the vapour. Suppose the boiler of a steam engine, in the form of an elongated
ellipsis, provided with a safety valve, two tubes with cocks, to shew the consumption of the liquor, and a mer¬
curial gage, to ascertain the strength of the steam. This boiler is bedded in masonry, or brick work, that it
may resist the excessive pressure which necessarily takes place. In the interior part of the apparatus are six reels,
three at each end, alternating with each other, in order that the action of the steam may be more equable upon
the goods. These reels are slowly and uniformly carried round by simple tooth and pinion work of wood, and
the first motion is given to an axis which passes out of the boiler through a stuffing box, which prevents the
escape of vapour. At the top is an opening of about sixteen inches diameter, with a rim or flanch, on which
the cover is fitted, and firmly secured by screws. Between the two metallic faces are placed strips of soaked
leather, to prevent the vapour from escaping. When the cover is taken off, the workmen can enter the boiler,
to dispose the goods upon the rollers, each of which contains about fifteen or twenty pieces, making in the whole
about forty-five or sixty. The raw material, namely, cunnamara kelp, is an article of inconsiderable expence,
qr else the soda extracted from sea salt, in which there remains indeed a small portion indecomposed, but which
we procure at a very reasonable price. It is rendered caustic by the addition of some good lime, which is made
from our limestone of Parre. With these a ley is formed, which is equal to fourteen degrees of our hydrometer.
In this lixivium the piece goods are boiled, and then conveyed to the digester, on the bottom of which the ley
stands to about five inches in depth. The workman stands upon a perforated stage, which prevents him from
stepping into the ley while he is arranging the pieces : after which, having placed them on the rollers, the ap¬
paratus is closed, the fire lighted, and the operation begins. As soon as ebullition takes place, the handle on
the outside is incessantly turned, and as soon as the roller at one end is filled, the handle is shifted to the other
roller, and the turning performed in the contrary direction. In this manner the operation is continued till the
whole of the contents is bleached. From this description you may easily understand how this operation is per¬
formed ; I shall, however, take the first opportunity of sending you a plan and description of the apparatus, if
you wish for further information. You are at liberty to make whatever use you please of this account: the ex¬
pence of bleaching is not more than one farthing per yard, including coals, workmen’s wages, &c. as well as in¬
terest for the capital employed in the apparatus.”
4 U 2
708
B L E A
Tegetible a stratum of liquid, which permits the mass to be heat-
SiibsUnccs.ed without any danger of burning either the cotton or
Jie metal, lo form the alkaline ley, Alicant soda
equal to a tenth of the weight of the cotton subjected
to the operation is employed j and in a boiler such as
that the dimensions of which I have given, about
8o<d pounds of cotton may be put at one time. The
ley is generally of two degrees by the aerometer. As
soon as the cotton is introduced into it, and arranged
in the boiler, the upper aperture is shut with its usual
covering, scarcely any opening being left, that the
steam developed by the fire may assume a much more
considerable degree of heat, and react with force on the
cotton. When every thing is arranged, the fire in the
furnace is kindled, and the ley is maintained in a state
of slight ebullition during 36 hours. The apparatus
is then suftered to cool, and the cotton being taken out
is carefully washed j after which it is exposed on the
grass for two or three days, extending it on poles in
the day time, and spreading it out on the grass during
the night. 1 he cotton will then have acquired a high
degree of whiteness ; and if any portions of it be still
found coloured, they must be put into the boiler for a
second operation, or be left on the grass some days
longer. 1 hese shades in bleaching cotton arise, in par¬
ticular, from all the parts of the cotton in the first ope¬
ration not having been completely and uniformly im¬
pregnated with the ley. They may be owing also to
the cotton, when arranged in the boiler, having been
too much accumulated on certain points. When it is
judged that the ley has been exhausted by ebullition,
the boiler is opened, and the dried cotton is moistened
with a new quantity of the solution of soda : without
tins precaution it would be in danger of being burnt.
It may be easily conceived, by an estimate of the mat¬
ters and time employed in this operation, with how
much saying of expence it is attended : cotton is bleach¬
ed by this method in all the manufactories of the south
of France, where it is used, at the low rate of two sols
per pound.”
362. Cloth may be bleached in the same way, but
requires first to be freed from the weavers dressing, &c.
as formerly directed.
363. While the goods are steeping so as to be per¬
fectly impregnated with the alkaline ley, the copper is
to be filled to the height of a foot with ley of the same
strength. Fliis may be done by means of a curved
leaden funnel, but as the door is sufficiently large, the
ley may be thrown in with buckets.
A workman then enters the chamber, and fixes one
end of a piece of cloth by means of packthread to one
of the arms of the farthest reel A (fig. 9. Plate XCIL)
while another workman without turns the handle till
the whole piece is wound on ; the end of another piece
is then fastened to the first, and so on till 18 or 20
pieces are wound round the first reel. The remaining
extremity of the last piece is then passed over the roller
B, near the arch of the chamber; from thence it is
carried below the two rollers C, D, in the copper E E;
is again carried to the arch, and made to pass over the
roller F, and is lastly fastened to an arm of the other
reel G. 1 he workman then ascertains the height of
the liquor in the copper by the regulator, and then
shuts the cock, and closes up the door by rags and the
proper scretvs, so as to prevent all escape of steam. The
3
Part II.
C H I N G.
fire is then kindled, and the liquor made to boil. The y
workman then begins to wind off the pieces, commen-SuKceL
cing vyith the reel to which the last end was tacked,1 t _j
till this has received the whole charge ; he then lowers
the cranks of the lower rollers, so as to plunge the
goods into the boiling ley, and immediately begins to
reel off with dispatch ; again raises the rollers, and reels
the pieces back without passing through the ley.
At the end of two hours, more or less according to
the fineness of the pieces, the alkali carried up by the
heat will completely have penetrated the fibres of the
cloth, which are swelled by the extraordinary heat of
the steam.
The fire is now extinguished, and as soon as all is
sufficiently cool, the door is opened, and they prepare for
immersing the stuffs in the oxygenated muriatic acid,
after they are first well rinsed in fair water.
364. For immersion the tub described in 262. is em¬
ployed, and the pieces are fastened and reeled in the
manner there described, till the liquor on examination
is found pretty much exhausted. The pieces are then
taken out separately, well rinsed in astreamofwater,and
exposed on the grass for three or four days. They are
then passed through a bath of very weak sulphuric acid,
and will then have acquired a high degree of whiteness.
If linen or hempen cloth should retain a slight yel¬
low cast, which will sometimes happen, the steaming
must be repeated ; and they must be exposed again for
a day or two on the grass.
365. Hosiery and threads are bleached in the same
way, but they are to be placed on frames at such a
distance from each other that they may be easily pe¬
netrated by the steam ; but as these articles cannot,
like the cloths, be made to pass through the ley in the
copper, the process is to be stopped at the end of two
hours, and then the upper frame is completely wet with
ley, which oozes through, and thus moistens all the low¬
er frames The boiling is again commenced, and conti¬
nued for four hours. For the immersion, the apparatus
of Rupp with the vertical reels is the best possible, and
the goods are to be hung on the upper end of the reel.
After immersion, they are rinsed, exposed on the grass,
and passed through the acid bath as other articles.
366. Chaptal has lately applied this method to a
very important object, the scouring and whitening of
foul linen.
“ I have no doubt,” says he, “ but that linen gar¬
ments may be bleached to advantage by the same pro¬
cess ; but as it was necessary to bring these notions to
the test of experiment, I invited Citizen Bawens to
allow me to make the experiment on a large scale with
his apparatus. Accordingly, on the 27th Pluviose,. in
the year 9, I had 200 pair of sheets from the hospital of
the Hotel X)ieu at Paris, chosen among those that were
most soiled, and taken to the manufactory of Citizen
Bawens.
“ Three experiments were made upon these sheets.
“ Experiment 1. One hundred and thirty sheets were
impregnated with a caustic alkaline ley, containing one
hundredth part of soda. They were kept for six hours
in the engine of steam ; after which they were impreg¬
nated again, in order to be placed again six hours in
the same machine.
‘‘ The same process was repeated a third time ; af¬
ter which they were carefully rinsed, and no spots of
wine,
Part II.
B L E A
Pegetab!© wine, grease, blood, or animal ejection, were to be seen,
ubstances. One quarter of a pound of soap was used in rinsing
■—these cloths.
“ All the assistants were convinced that the ordinary
processes would not have given either so perfect a white,
nor so agreeable a lixivial smell.
“ The texture was in no respect altered.
“ Experiment 2. The alkaline ley contained only six
parts of soda, but five pounds of soap were also added.
The cloths were treated in the same manner, and the
results appeared more advantageous. They were easily
Washed out.
Experiment 3. To the bath of the second experi¬
ment a sufficient quantity of new ley was added. One
hundred and forty sheets were treated like the preced¬
ing, and the result was the same.
“ It must be observed that the water of the Seine,
in which these sheets were rinsed, was at that time very
yellow.
“ Ibis experiment appeared to me to offer several re¬
sults worth the attention of the Institute.
“ In the first place the process is economical. Two
hundred pair of sheets, which were bleaching by three
' successive operations, demanded an expenditure, accord¬
ing to the account furnished by Citizen Bawens, which
is in the proportion of 7 to 10, compared with that com¬
monly made in the hospitals. This expence may be re¬
duced to less than one-third, if a suitable place and ap¬
paratus were appropriated to this use.
“ 2. I wo days at most are required to complete the
operation. This economy of time is incalculably bene¬
ficial.
“ 3. The linen is neither changed nor torn, as it
passes through the hands only once, and it is of no use
to beat it.
“ 4- The extreme heat to which the linen is exposed
in the apparatus, causes its texture to be penetrated by
the alkaline fluid to such a degree, that the substances
with which it is impregnated cannot be masked from its
action ; so that the putrid exhalations, and other sub¬
stances attached to its texture, are necessarily destroyed
or changed in their nature.
“ This effect must be more particularly seen with re¬
gard to its value, by physicians, who are aware with
what facility the seeds of various disorders are perpetu¬
ated in hospitals, and how insufficient the greater num¬
ber of processes used in washing linen have proved to
destroy them.”
367. It only remains that we should give a brief ex¬
planation of the manner in which the steam, thus con¬
fined, acts in bleaching the goods.
It has appeared from the former parts of this ar¬
ticle, that the bleaching ol vegetable substances de¬
pends on the united influence of moisture, light, and
oxygen ; and the mode in which these act, as also the
action which alkalies exert on the colouring matter of
cloth, has been explained. This action of the alkali is
materially assisted by the increased temperature of this
vapour bath, by which the fibres of the cloth, &c. are
swelled and opened ; and thus the caustic alkali carried
up with the stream, greedily seizes on and destroys the
colouring matter; or, should some part of it escape, a
second steaming, after immersion and exposure to the
air, never fails to discharge it. The increased tempe¬
rature, independently of swelling and opening the tex-
C H I N G. ' 709
ture of the cloth, seems also to render the alkali more vegetabl«
active than it can be in the ordinary leys, in which the Substances,
temperature never exceeds 162° Fahrenheit; for one -y-- **
degree of the aerometer is always a sufficient strength,
and very seldom more than half a degree is required.
By passing the goods through a single bath of oxyge¬
nated muriatic acid, or oxymuriat of lime, a combina¬
tion takes place between the oxygen of the liquor and
the carbon produced by the destruction of the extracto-
resinous matter by the alkali, and carbonic acid is form¬
ed, and this is dissipated by the subsequent exposure to
the atmosphere.
368. We cannot however agree with O’Reilly*, that * swr
the steam itself possesses no bleaching power, as we arefc Blanch.
convinced from the common process of cooking green ?■ I47*
vegetables in steam, by which, as is well known, they
lose their green colour, that this is not the case.
369. It has been supposed that the vapour arising
from a boiling solution of caustic alkali would not it¬
self be caustic, or produce the same effects as the solu¬
tion ; a supposition which was founded on the concen¬
tration of salts by evaporation ; but we are by no means
to infer, from what takes place in the open air, where
the moisture is constantly absorbed as it rises, that the
same will happen in a close apparatus, where the tem¬
perature is considerably increased ; and, in fact, that
alkali is capable of being raised by steam is fully pro¬
ved by suspending paper tinged blue over a boiling so¬
lution of potash, when the blue will soon be converted
into a green.
We shall conclude this article with M. Chaptal’s
observations on the art of scouring different kinds of
stuffs.
“ This art supposes, 1st, a knowledge of the differ¬
ent substances capable of staining any kind of cloth ;
2d, of the substances to which recourse must be had in
order to make those deposited on the stuff to disappear;
3d, a knowledge of the effects produced on colours by
those re-agents which it may be necessary to employ
to destroy stains; 4th, a knowdedge of the manner in
which the cloth is affected by those re-agents; 5th,
of the art of restoring a colour changed or faded. 
Of those bodies which occasion spots on different kinds
of cloth, some are easily distinguished by their appear¬
ance, such as greasy substances ; but others have more
complex effects, such as acids, alkalies, perspired mat¬
ter, fruits, urine, &c. Acids redden black, fawn,
violet and puce-colour, and every shade communicated
with orchilla-weed, iron, astringents, and every blue
except indigo and Prussian blue. They render the
yellows paler, except that of arnotto, which they change
into orange.
“ Alkalies change to violet the reds produced by
Brazil wood, logwood, and cochineal. They render
the greens on woollen cloth yellowish, make yellow
brownish, and change the yellow produced by arnotto
to aurora. Perspired matter produces the same effects
as alkalies.
370. “ When the spots are produced by simple bodies
on stuffs, it is easy to remove them by the means already
known. Greasy substances are removed by alkalies,
soaps, the yolk of eggs, fat earths; oxyds of iron, by
the nitric and oxalic acids ; acids by alkalies, and re¬
ciprocally.. Stains of fruit on white stuffs may be re¬
moved by the sulphurous acid, and still better by the
oxygenated;
7ro B L E A C
Vegetable oxygenated muriatic acid. But when the spots are of
Substances. a complex kind, it will be necessary to employ several
means in succession. Thus, to destroy the stain of
coom from carriage-wheels, after the grease has been
dissolved the oxide of iron may he removed by the oxa¬
lic acid.
371. “ As colours are often changed by re-agents, it
will be necessary, in order to restore them, that the scour¬
er should possess a thorough knowledge of the art of
dyeing, and how to modify the means according to cir¬
cumstances. This becomes the more difficult when it
is necessary to reproduce a colour similar to that of
the rest of the stuff, to apply that colour only in one
place, and often to restore the mordant by which it was
fixed, and which has been destroyed, or even the first
tint which gave the colour its intensity. It may be
readily conceived that the means to be employed must
depend on the nature of the colour, and the ingredients
by which it was produced ; for it is known that the
same colour may be obtained from very different bo¬
dies. Th us, after an alkali has been employed to de¬
stroy an acid spot on browns, violets, blues, poppies, &c.
the yellow spot which remains may be made to disap¬
pear by a solution of tin j a solution of sulphat of iron
restores the colour to brown stuffs which have been gall¬
ed ; acids restore to their former splendour yellows which
have been rendered dusky or brown by alkalies 5 blacks
produced by logwood become red by acids $ alkalies
change these red spots to yellow, and a little of the
astringent principle makes them again become black.
A solution of one part of indigo in four parts of sulphu¬
ric acid, diluted with a sufficient quantity of water, may
be employed with success to revive the blue colour of
cotton or wool which has been changed. Scarlet may
be revived by means of cochineal and a solution of the
muriat of tin, &c.
“ The choice of re-agents is not a matter of indifi’er-
ence. Vegetable acids are preferable $ the sulphurous
acid, however, may be employed for stains occasioned
by fruit: it does not change the blue of silk nor colours
produced by astringents : it does not degrade the yel¬
low of cotton. Ammonia succeeds better than fixed al¬
kalies in removing spots produced by acids. It is em¬
ployed in vapour; its action is speedy, and seldom al¬
ters the colour.
372. “ The means of removing greasy spots are well
known. This effect is produced by alkalies, fullers
earth, volatile oils dissolved in alcohol, a heat proper
for volatilizing grease, &c. Spots occasioned by ink,
rust, or iron-mould of any kind, and all those produced
by the yellow oxide of iron, are removed by the oxalic
acid : the colour may be restored by alkalies, or a solu¬
tion of the muriat of tin. These spots may be removed
also by the oxygenated muriatic acid, when they are on
white stuffs or paper.
“ The action of alkalies, and that of perspired mat¬
ter, are the same : their spots may be effaced by acids,
or even by a weak solution of the muriat of tin.
When these spots arise from several unknown causes,
in order to destroy them recourse must be had to poly-
chrest compositions. The following may be consider¬
ed as one of the most efficacious. Dissolve white soap
in alcohol, and mix this solution with the yolks of from
four to six eggs : add gradually essence of turpentine $
2
H I N G. part; jj
and incorporate with the whole some fullers earth, in Vegetable
such a manner as to form balls of a suitable consistence. Substaneea.
Moisten the spot ; and, having rubbed it with these ‘-““■v'—
balls, the spot will be removed by washing the stuff.
All spots, except iron-mould and ink, may be removed
in this manner.
“ Washing destroys the lustre, and leaves a tarnish¬
ed place disagreeable to the eye ; but the lustre may be
restored by drawing over the washed place, and in the.
direction of the pile, a brush moistened in water im¬
pregnated with a little gum. You may then apply a
sheet of paper, or a piece of cloth, and a considerable
weight, under which the cloth must be left to dry.”
Description of Apparatus.
Plate XCI.
Fig. i, 2. O’Reilly’s Apparatus for preparing Sulphu¬
rous Acid.
Fig. 1. Elevation of the Apparatus.
A, The furnace which is made capable of containing
three distilling vessels.
a, A curved funnel for introducing the sulphuric
acid.
b, A tube passing from the matrass to an interme¬
diate leaden vessel B intended to condense the sulphuric
acid which comes over undecomposed, and having five
necks, three of which receive tubes similar to b, and
from the fourth passes the tube d.
c, A tube of safety.
d, A tube passing from the intermediate vessel to the
first of the tall Wolfe’s vessels C intended to condense
the sulphurous acid.
D, The second of the Wolfe’s vessels, with tubes to
connect it with the first and third.
Each of these vessels has a leaden cock to empty the
acid liquor into the immersing tubs.
Fig. 2. Plan of the above Vessels.
Fig. 3. A vertical Section of Rupp’s Immersing Tub,
as improved by O’Reilly.
a, b, The tub.
c, d, The cover perfectly air-tight.
e, The partition dividing the tub into two parts.
f, A funnel filled with a plug.
g, g, The wooden reels on which the stuffs are rol¬
led.
h, h, h, h, h, h, h, Seven rollers, over and under
which the stuffs pass, so as to expose a large surface to
the bleaching liquor.
i, A leaden cock to draw off the liquor.
Fig. 4. Rupp’s Original Apparatus, as described in
253-
Fig. 5, 6, 7. The Original Apparatus for distilling
the Oxygenated Muriatic Acid Gas, described
in 209.
Plate XCII.
Fig. 8. The Apparatus employed for this purpose in
Ireland.
a, The ash-hole.
b, The place for the fire.
c, A
Part II.
BLEACHING.
Vegetable
Substances.
c, A door by which fuel is introduced.
d, D oor of the ash, with a register to regulate the
draught of air.
e, A boiler of cast iron filled with hot water, in
which is placed the alembic.
f, A, three-footed iron stand to support
gg, A leaden alembic.
h, A glass or leaden curved funnel for introducing
the sulphuric acid.
i, A leaden cover firmly fixed by luting to the neck
ot the alembic, and pierced with three holes for the
transmission of the funnel, the handle of an agitator,
and a condensing tube.
k, The agitator formed of iron covered with lead.
l, A leaden tube three inches in diameter for con¬
ducting the gas into
m, An intermediate vessel of lead for condensing the
acid which may pass over from the alembic uncombined.
The tube 1 descends through the first opening m I,
nearly to the bottom of the vessel, which is two-tlyrds
filled with water 5 the oxygenated muriatic acid tra¬
verses the water, and passes out at the top through the
leaden tube n into o, o, the pneumatic tub, made of
wood fitted with a cover r, which is perfectly air-tight,
and through which passes an agitator p, with three
leaves for mixing the gas with the water.
q, q, q, Three shelves in the tub, which by retarding
the ascent of the bubbles of gas, facilitate its union with
the water.
s, A stop-cock for letting off the liquor.
Fig. 9. A Vertical Section of O’Reilly’s Appara¬
tus for Bleaching by Steam.
E, E, E, The boiler.
A, G, The two reels.
B, F, The upper rollers.
C, D, The lower moveable rollers.
H, The regulator.
T, A stopcock.
K, The door of the chamber.
Fig. 10. The Apparatus, with Frames for Bleaching
Thread and Hosiery.
71 l
Fig. 11. Plan of Loysel’s Apparatus for Bleach- Vegetable
ing PAPER. Substances,
1, I, I, &c. Eight furnaces, having a chimney of " V
sheet iron common to each pair of furnaces.
2, 2, 2, &c. Eight vessels of cast iron, containing
sand.
3> 3> 3> Eight matrasses, balloons, or bottles of
stone-ware, compact, and well baked, intended to con¬
tain the materials which afford the gas. Each matrass
must be filled only to one-third of its capacity at most.
Bodies of glass of little thickness may also be used for
this purpose.
4, 4, 4, &c. Tubes of glass to conduct the gas into
the receiver. Or these tubes may be made of lead.
5. The receiver. It is composed, 1. of an internal
vessel, covered with plates of lead well soldered toge¬
ther, and provided near its bottom with a cock 6, to
draw off the liquor when prepared. 2. Another vessel,
7, likewise covered with plates of lead within and
without. This second tub is inverted in the first, to
contain the gas in proportion as it is disengaged, and
to keep in contact with the water of the receiver that
portion of gas which had not time to be dissolved in
passing through that fiuid.
There is a hole, 8, in the upper part of this second
vessel. It serves to suffer the common air to escape
when water is first poured into this receiver, and it is
afterwards closed with a stopper of lead or cork, cover¬
ed with paper soaked in starch, and fastened to the cork
by a piece of cloth or bladder, before the operation begin.
Fig. 12. Vertical section of the apparatus.
i3* Elevation of the apparatus.
The disposition of the furnaces about the receiver,
and the circular form of the receiving vessels, was ren¬
dered necessary here by the local circumstances. In
other circumstances square vessels might be employed,
and all the furnaces might be ranged in a right line un¬
der a common chimney.
For an account of the most recent improvements in
this art, see Bleaching, Supplement.
INDEX.
A.
ACCIDENTS occurring in bleach¬
ing, modes of remedying, N° 287,
11. < < 292, 295
Aid, muriatic, employed for bleach¬
ing silk, 71
best mode of prepar¬
ing, in etseq.
nitric, improper in any process
to which silk is subjected, 78
oxymuriatic, discovered by
Scheele, 176
first applied to bleach¬
ing by Berthollet, ib.
effects of, on vegetable
colours, 178, 183
Acid, oxymuriatic, modes of prepar¬
ing, N° 177, 245,
f • u t 345
ot no use in bleach¬
ing animal sub¬
stances, 304
sulphurous, wherein it differs
from sulphuric, 30
mode of procuring, 32 et seq.
sulphuric, mode of purifying, 103
Air, atmospheric, composition of, 138
Alcohol, effects of, on yellow silk, 87
retained by silk in bleaching y
mode of recovering, 73
employed in bleaching silky
modes of recovering, 94, el seq.
Alkalies, effect of, on the colouring-
matter of cloth, N° 144
capable of being raised in
vapour, 339
Alum of no use in the bleaching of silk, 66
Animal substances, in what they dif¬
fer from vege¬
table, 10
employed for cloth-
B
ing,
12
Bawens, his success in the application
of steam to bleaching, 334
Baume, his method of bleaching silk, 62
et seq.
his lutes, 228
Berthollet*
712
Berthdlety his mode of bleaching, N° 185
et seq.
Bleaching, origin of, uncertain, j
probably of later date than
dyeing, ih.
extent of, 6
theory of, 158, 266
by atmospheric air, 154
by water, 160
byoxymuriatic acid, 203, etscq.
' by sulphuric acid, 351
by steam, 355, et seq.
liquor, strength of, mode
of ascertaining, 256, 263
Bonjour, his attempt to introduce
Berthol let’s method of
bleaching, 189
Books, and prints, mode of cleansing
and whitening, 339, 346
Bucking, what, 134
€
Chaptal, his soap of wool, 175
apparatus for bleaching by
steam, 355
method of cleaning books
and prints, 340
of scouring linen, 366
observations on scouring va¬
rious stuffs, 369
{sloth, steeping of, 134
colouring matter of, 135
Kirwan’s expe¬
riments on, 137
et seq.
Cocons of silk, ill effects of baking, 62
best method of prepa¬
ring by alcohol, ih.
Colours assumed by goods during the
processes of bleaching, 265
of printed and dyed goods,
method of discharging, 304
chemical and fast, 305
Cotton, its nature, 149
more easily bleached than
other substances, 151
bears the action of acids bet¬
ter than hemp or flax, 152
D
Dalrymple's fish-soap, 173
De Charmes, his improvements on
Berthollet’s method, 214
et seq.
his furnace, 213
mode of obtaining sul¬
phuric acid, 226
Oc Croi’zille, his mode of determining
the strength of bleach¬
ing liquor, 209
Dressing, weavers, 133
BLEACHING.
E
iartf/i, a new, for scouring, accountof,N* 23
F
Flax, beating of, 130
effect of watering, 127
first used in Egypt, 123
nature of, 126
method of preparing, 126,129
C
Glaring for coarse pottery, 348
H
Higgins, his account of the mode of
bleaching with sulphuret
of lime, 171
Hyperoxymuriat of potash possesses no
bleaching power, 239
K
Kirwan, his experiments on the co¬
louring matter of cloth, 137, et seq.
X-i
Lime, injurious to cloth, 167
Lutes, mode of preparing, 228, et seq.
applying, 232
M
Manganese, mode of purifying, 194,
May-dew, effects of, ascribed to oxygen, 183
O'Reilly, his mode of preparing sul¬
phurous acid, 3a, et seq,
method of bleaching wool, 36
apparatus for rinsing cloths, 261
for bleaching by
steam, s’]5, et seq.
method of bleaching by
steam, 363
Oxymuriat of lime, use of, in bleach¬
ing, 260
P
Paper, method of bleaching, 318, et seq.
method of renewing, 309, et seq.
Potash, nature of, 162
how purified, 163
added to oxymuriatic acid,
corrects its odour, but di¬
minishes its power, 258
Residuums, of the distillation of oxy-
muriatic acid, uses of, 348
Rigaud, his method of bleaching silk, 38
Rupp'ls immersing tub, 233
experiments on adding potash
to oxygenated liquor, 238
improvement on Descroizille’s
proof liquor, 255
s
Scouring, anclentmodeof, 3
Silk, baking of, 39
nature of, what, 44
colouring matter of, nature of, 88
effect of reagents on, 46
Index.
Silk, mode of bleaching in the var¬
nish, N* 60 et seq.
by steam, 33
white, blue shade of, how pro¬
duced,
scouring of,
raw,
of nankin imported into Europe,
value of,
Soap, origin of, and progress of its
manufacture, iy2
kinds and preparations of, 173
Soda, nature and production of, 168
mode of purifying, 173
Souring, of what best formed, 136
Steam, its effects on cloth, 367
destroys the green colour of
vegetables, ggg
Sulphat of soda, mode of decompos-
ing» _ 349
Sulphuret of lime, preparation of, 271
its use in bleaching
as a substitute for
alkali, 275
V
Vegetable substances, composition of, 118
principles of,
how formed, 119
decomposition of,
effects of, 120
employed in clo¬
thing, of two
kinds, 122
u
Urine, employed for scouring wool, 17
W
Water, hard, injurious to flax, and
why, 126
well, gives silk a yellow co¬
lour, and why, 66
Wott, his improvement on Berthollet’s
apparatus, 199
Wax, method of bleaching, 347
Welter, his apparatus for preparing
oxymuriatic acid, 197, 209
Wool, bleaching of, best mode, 36 el seq.
nature of, 13
scouring of, 17
proofs of its being well scour-
etl’ . .
loss which it sustains in scour¬
ing, _ 26
substances acting on, 14
sulphuring of, in the usual me¬
thod, 28
in the most ap¬
proved me-
• thod, 39
the most ancient article of clo¬
thing, 123
BLEAK,
BLEACHING
PL ATE XCIL .
Eh/mv, v/Ar KS-JX Cizars JSdm r
/></. /o.
fty-v
ty.Jl.
/'/// 73.
7u/. 8.
/ >// 22.
B L E [ 713 ] B L E
ileak BLEAK, in Ornithology. See Cyprinus.
n . BLECHINGLY, a town of Surry in England,
Blnheim. sends two members to parliament, and the bailiff
U ' who returns the members is chosen annually at the lord
of the manor’s court. The town stands on a hill, and
contained m6 inhabitants in 1811. W. Long. o. 15.
N. Lat. 51. 20. ^
BLEEDING, in Therapeutics see Medicine In¬
dex. As a chirurgical operation, see Surgery Index.
Bleeding at the Nose, called Epistaxis, See Me¬
dicine Index.
Bleeding is also used for a haemorrhage or flux of
blood from a wound, rupture of a vessel, or other acci¬
dent. See HiEMORRHAGY.
Bleeding of a Corpse, is a phenomenon said to
have frequently happened in the bodies of persons mur¬
dered, which, on the touch, or even the approach, of
the murderer, began to bleed at the nose, ears, and
other parts $ so as formerly to be admitted in England,
and still allowed in some other parts, as a sort of de¬
tection of the criminal and proof of the fact. Nu¬
merous instances of these posthumous haemorrhagies
are given by writers. But this kind of evidence ought
to be of small weight: for it is to be observed, that
this bleeding does not ordinarily happen, even in the
presence of the murderer 5 yet sometimes in that even
of the nearest friends, or persons most innocent j and
sometimes without the presence of any, either friend
or foe. In effect, where is the impossibility that a
body, especially if full of blood, upon the approach
of external heat, having been considerably stirred
or moved, and a putrefaction coming on, some of the
blood-vessels should burst, as it is certain thev all will
in time ?
Bleeding is also used for the drawing out of the sap
of plants, otherwise called tapping. See Tapping.
BLEK1NG, a province in the south part of Swe¬
den, having the Baltic sea on the south, Smaland on
the north, and the province of Schonen on the west.
Its principal towns are Christianstadt, Elleholm, A-
huys, Roterby, and Christianople, which last is the ca¬
pital.
BLEMYES, or Blemmyes, a fabulous people of
Ethiopia, said to have had no heads ; their eyes,
mouths, &c. being situated in their breasts. See Ace¬
phalous.
BLENCH, or Blanch. See Blanch.
BLEND, or Blinde. See Blende, Mineralogy
Index.
B L end - JJra ter, called also more hough, a distemper
incident to black cattle, comes either from the blood,
from the yellows, or from the change of ground.—In
order to cure it, take bole armoniac, and as much char¬
coal-dust as will fill an egg shell, a good quantity of the
inner bark of an oak, dried and pounded together to a
powder, and give it to the beast in a quart of new milk
and a pint of earning.
BLENHEIM, a village of Germany, in the king¬
dom of Bavaria j situated in E. Long. 2. 30. N. Lat.
48. 40. This village is remarkable for the defeat of
the French and Bavarians in 1704, by the English and
their confederates under Prince Eugene and the duke
of Marlborough. The French army amounted to 60,000
veterans, who had shared in the conquests of their
grand monarque j and were now commanded by two
Vol. III. Part II. J f
generals the most distinguished at that time in Fi’ance,
Marshal Tallard and the duke of Bavaria. The for¬
mer had established his reputation by many victories.
He was active and penetrating; his ardour often rose
to impetuosity $ but he was so shortsighted as to be
incapable of seeing objects at a very small distance.
The duke of Bavaria was equally experienced in the
field, and had stronger motives for activity: His coun¬
try was ravaged before his eyes, and nothing remained
of his possessions but the army which he commanded.
The allied army, commanded by Eugene and Marlbo¬
rough, amounted to about 52,000 men, troops who
had long been familiar with victory, and who had seen
the French, the Turks, and the Russians, fly before
them. Both armies, after many marches and counter¬
marches, approached each other. The French were
posted on a hill near the town of Hochstet; their right
covered by the Danube and the village of Blenheim j
their left by the village of Lutzengen j and their front
by a rivulet, the banks of which were steep and the
bottom marshy. The right wing of the French was
commanded by Marshal Tallard ; their left by the
duke of Bavaria, and under him General Marsin, an
experienced Frenchman. Their position being advan¬
tageous, they were willing to await the enemy rather
than ofler battle. On the other hand, Marlborough
and Eugene were stimulated to engage them at all
events, in consequence of an intercepted letter from
Villeroy, intimating that he was preparing to cut oft'
all communication between the Rhine and the allied
army. The dispositions, therefore, being made for the
attack, and the orders communicated to the general
officers, the allied forces advanced into the plain, and
were ranged in order of battle. The cannonading be¬
gan about nine in the morning, and continued to about
half after twelve. The troops then advanced to the
attack ; the right under the direction of Prince Eu¬
gene, the left headed by Marlborough, and opposed
to Marshal Tallard. Marlborough, at the head of the
English troops, having passed the rivulet, attacked
the cavalry of Tallard with great bravery. Thir ge¬
neral being then reviewing the disposition of his troops
to the left, his cavalry fought for some time without
the presence of their commander. Prince Eugene had
not yet attacked the forces of the elector j and it was
near an hour before he could bring up his troops to the
engagement. Tallard was no sooner informed that his
right was attacked by the duke, than he flew to its
head, where he found a furious encounter already be¬
gun ; his cavalry being thrice driven back, and rally¬
ing as often. He had posted a large body of forces
in the village of Blenheim ; and he made an attempt
to bring them to the charge. They were attacked by
a detachment of Marlborough’s troops so vigorously,
that instead of assisting the main body, they could hard¬
ly maintain their ground. All the French cavalry be¬
ing thus attacked in flank, was totally defeated. The
English army now penetrated between the two bodies
of the French, commanded by the marshal and elector,
while the forces in the village of Blenheim were sepa¬
rated by another detachment. In this distressed situa¬
tion Tallard flew to rally some squadrons ; but from his
shortsightedness mistaking a detachment of the ene¬
my for his own, he was made prisoner by the Hessian
troops who were in the allied army. Meanwhile,
4 X Prince
Blenheim.
B L E [7H] B L E
Blenheim Prince Eugene on his part, after having been thrice
iil^ repulsed, at last put the enemy into confusion. The
■ ‘:sg' , rout then became general, and the flight precipitate.
The consternation of the French soldiers was such,
that they threw themselves into the Danube, without
knowing whither they fled. The allies being now
masters of the field of battle, surrounded the village of
Blenheim, where a body of 13,000 men had been post¬
ed in the beginning of the action, and still maintained
their ground. These troops seeing themselves cut off
from all communication with the rest of the army, and
despairing of being able to force their way through
the allies, threw down their arms, and surrendered
themselves prisoners of war. Thus ended the battle of
Blenheim, one of the most complete victories that
ever was obtained. Twelve thousand French and Ba¬
varians were slain in the field or drowned in the Da¬
nube j 13,000 were made prisoners of war j and there
were taken 100 pieces of cannon, 22 mortars, upwards
of TOO pair of colours, 200 standards, 17 pair of ket¬
tle-drums, upwards of 3000 tents, 34 coaches, 300
loaded mules, two bridges of boats, and all the French
baggage, with their military chest. Next day, when
the duke of Marlborough visited his prisoner the mar¬
shal, the latter assured him that he had overcome the best
troops in the world. “ I hope, Sir (replied the duke),
you will except those troops by whom they were con¬
quered.” The allies, in consequence of this victory, be¬
came masters of a country 100 leagues in extent.
Blenheim House, a noble and princely house erec¬
ted in honour of the duke of Marlborough at Woodstock
near Oxford, which with the manor of Woodstock is
settled on the duke and his heirs, in consideration of the
eminent services by him performed for the public $ and
for building of which house the sum of 500,000!. was
granted by parliament, &c.—The tenure by which his
grace holds the manor of Woodstock is the presenting
at the castle of Windsor annually on the day in which
the battle of Blenheim was fought, a flag embroidered
with flowers-de-lis ; which flag is shewn to all strangers
who visit the castle.
BLENNIUS, the Blenny. See Ichthyolog¥/«(/<?*•.
BLESS, Henry, painter of history and landscape,
was born at Bovine, near Dinant, in 1480. He ac¬
quired his skill in the art merely by the strength of his
natural genius, assisted by a diligent study and obser¬
vation of the works of Patenier, without having any
other instructor j and at last rendered himself very emi¬
nent, particularly by his landscapes. His best per¬
formances were bought up by toe emperor Rodolph,
and they are still preserved at Vienna. His style of
composition in historical subjects resembles the style of
the Flemish artists of that age, and exhibits a great
number of figures finished with extreme neatness. But
he crowded sevex-al subjects into one design j as in his
picture of the disciples at Emmaus, he represented not
only that incident, but, in different groups disposed in
the back ground, he represented likewise the different
parts of the passion of our Saviour. And yet, not¬
withstanding the impropriety of that manner of com¬
posing, his pictures were so delicately pencilled and
finished, and his landscapes in particular so agreeably
invented, so full of variety, and well executed, that
even in Italy his works were in great request, and were
distinguished there by the appellation of the
2
for he fixed an owl, as his peculiar mark, in every pic- E]ess
ture he painted j by which the works of this master are ||
always indisputably known. He died in 1550. Bletonism,
BLESTIUM, a town in Britain. Now Old-town, UT—->
not far from Hereford.
BLEIONISM, a faculty of perceiving and indica¬
ting subterraneous springs and currents by sensation.
The term is modern, and derived from a M. Bleton,
who for some years past has excited universal attention
by his possessing the above faculty, which seems to de¬
pend upon some peculiar organization. Concerning the
reality of this extraordinary faculty, there occurred
great doubts among the learned. But M. Thouvenel,
a Frenchman of some consequence and a philosopher,
seems to have put the matter beyond dispute, in two
memoirs which he has published upon the subject. He
was charged by the king with a commission to analyse
the mineral and medicinal waters in France j and, by
repeated trials, he had been so fully convinced of the
capacity of Bleton to assist him with efficacy in this
important undertaking, that he solicited the ministry
to join him in the commission upon advantageous terms.
All this shows that the operations of Bleton have a
more solid support than the tricks of imposture or the
delusions of fancy. In fact, a great number of his
discoveries are ascertained by respectable affidavits.
The following is a strong instance in favour of Bleto¬
nism. “ For a long time the traces of several springs
and their reservoirs in the lands of the abbe de Ver-
vians had been entirely lost. It appeared, nevertheless,
by ancient deeds and titles, that these springs and re¬
servoirs had existed. A neighbouring abbey was sup¬
posed to have turned their waters for its benefit into
other channels, and a law-suit was commenced upon
this supposition. M. Bleton was applied to : he dis¬
covered at once the new course of the waters in ques¬
tion : his discovery was ascertained, and the law-suit
was terminated.”
Bleton has been mistaken more than once $ and our
author enumerates, with the fairest candour, the cases
in which he has failed : but these cases are very rare in
comparison with those in which he has succeeded. Be¬
sides, even the mistakes of Bleton do not invalidate the
reality of his talents $ since a talent may be real with¬
out being perfect, or exerting itself with the same suc¬
cess in every trial.
Many were indisposed against Bletonism, because
they looked upon the facts on which it is founded as
inexplicable. But M. Thouvenel assigns principles
upon which the impressions made by subterraneous wa¬
ters and mines may be naturally enough accounted for.
Having ascertained a general law by which subterra¬
neous electricity exerts an influence upon the bodies of
certain individuals eminently susceptible of that influ¬
ence, and shown that this law is the same whether the
electrical action arises from currents of warm or cold
water, from currents of humid air, from coal or metal¬
lic mines, from sulphur, and so on, he observes, that
there is a diversity in the physical and organical im-
px-essions which are procured by this electrical action,
accoi'ding as it proceeds from different fossil bodies
which are more or less conductors of electrical emana¬
tions. There are also artificial processes, which concur
in leading us to distinguish the different focuses or con¬
ductors of mineral electricity j and in these processes
B L E [ 715 ] B L I
iletoniRiTi. the use of electrometrical rods deserves the attention
of philosophers, who might perhaps in process of time
substitute in their place a more perfect instrument.
Their physical and spontaneous mobility, and its elec¬
trical cause, are demonstrated by indisputable experi¬
ments.
On the other hand, our author proves, by very plau¬
sible arguments, the influence of subterraneous electri¬
cal currents, compares them with the electrical cur¬
rents of the atmosphere, points out the different im¬
pressions they produce according to the number and
quality of the bodies which act, and the diversity of
those which are acted upon. The ordinary sources of
cold water make impressions proportional to their vo¬
lume, the velocity of their currents, and other circum¬
stances. Their stagnation destroys every species of elec¬
trical influence ; at least, in this state they have none
that is perceptible. Their depth is indicated by geo¬
metrical processes, founded upon the motion and di¬
vergence of the electrical rays j but there are second
causes which sometimes diversify these indications, and
occasion seeming errors. These errors, however, ac¬
cording to our author, are only exceptions to the gene¬
ral rule j exceptions which depend on the difference of
mediums and situations, and not on the inconstancy or
incertitude of the organical, sensitive, or convulsive fa¬
culties of the Bletonist.
All the hot springs in France, traced by our author
from the places where they flow to the places where
their formation commences (sometimes at a distance of
15 leagues), led him constantly to masses of coal; where
they are collected and heated in basons of different
depths and dimensions, nourished by the filtration of
lakes and the course of torrents, and mineraliated by sa¬
line, sulphureous, metallic, and bituminous substances,
in the natural furnaces where they are heated, or in the
strata through which they flow.
fl he last and the most singular and important phe¬
nomenon which our author met with in the course of
his experiments must not be here omitted. Over the
veins of iron mines alone the electrometrical rods as¬
sume a motion of rotation diametrically opposite to
that which they exhibit over all other mines. This
phenomenon takes place with the same distinction
when iron and other metals are extracted from their
mines and deposited under ground. But the most re¬
markable circumstance in this distinctive action of these
metals is, that it has a uniform and constant direction
from east to west in all metals, iron excepted, just as
iron rendered magnetic has an action directed from
south to north. The action of red metals is more pal¬
pable than that of the white ; but the latter, though
weaker, has nevertheless, a real existence in the sulphur.
In the supplement to this memoir, there is an accurate
account of the processes that have furnished these in¬
variable results. 1 hey will naturally suggest, says our
author, the idea of constructing an electrical compass,
which may be of as eminent use in experimental philo¬
sophy as the magnetic compass is in navigation. The
natural and spontaneous direction of metallic emanations
towards the west being ascertained, it only remains to
render them palpable by the construction of an instru¬
ment which may be substituted in the place of the elec¬
trometrical twig that goes vulgarly by the name of the
divining rod.
His analysis of the hot springs of Bourbon-Lancy,
to the source of which in the great mountains of Bur¬
gundy he was led by the electrical sensations of Bleton,
shows the great intelligence and sagacity of our author
in operations of this nature. He found the origin of
these famous hot springs in the centre of an oblong
rising ground, full of coal, and commanded on three
sides by a group of mountains, of which the greatest
part was filled with the same mineral. From a parti¬
cular case, here circumstantially described, in which
the electrical rays of the subterraneous water and those
of the adjacent coal crossed each other, our author de¬
duces a very natural account of the errors which may
sometimes, though rarely, mislead for a time the great¬
est adepts in Bletonism, when they find themselves in
combined spheres of electrical activity. Another ob¬
servation, which seems confirmed by several facts, ac¬
counts farther for this fallibility j the observation is,
that electrical rays, whether direct or collateral, issuing
from subterraneous focuses, seem to undergo in certain
cases a sort of refraction as they pass from one medium
to another, or traverse bodies which differ with respect
to the property of transmitting this electricity. In a
word, it follows from these observations, that when
such privileged investigators of currents or minerals as
Bleton are placed upon the electrical spheres of these
bodies, they will indicate their situation and their re¬
spective depths according to the impressions they feel
within themselves, or the motions they observe in the
electrometrical instruments which they employ : and if
they meet with second accidental causes or complications
of electrical spheres, which modify or alter these me¬
thods of trial, this will necessarily occasion mistakes in
the results of their operations which they may probably
rectify ; but which, at all events, it would be unjust to
lay to their charge, or allege as an objection against the
reality of their talent.
BLIGHT, in Husbandry, a disease incident to
plants, which affects them variously, the whole plant
sometimes perishing by it, and sometimes only the leaves
and blossoms, which will be scorched and shrivelled up,
the rest remaining green and flourishing.
Some have supposed that blights are usually pro¬
duced by an easterly wind, which brings vast quantities
of insects eggs along with it, from some distant place,
that, being lodged upon the surface of the leaves and
flowers of fruit-trees, cause them to shrivel up and
perish.
To cure this distemper, they advise the burning of
wet litter on the windward side of the plants, that the
smoke thereof may be carried to them by the wind,
which they suppose will stifle and destroy the insects,
and thereby cure the distemper.
Others direct the use of tobacco-dust, or to wash the
trees with water wherein tobacco-stalks have been in¬
fused for 12 hours; which they say will destroy those
insects, and recover the plants.
Pepper-dust scattered over the blossoms of fruit-trees,
&c. has been recommended as very useful in this case ;
and there are some that advise the pulling off the leaves
that are distempered.
The true cause of blights seems to be continued dry
easterly winds for several days together, without the in¬
tervention of showers, or any morning dew, by which
the perspiration in the tender blossom iff stopped ; and
4 X a if
Bietonisra,
Blight.
Blindness,
what.
B L 1 [ 7
if it so happens that there is a long continuance of
the same weather, it equally affects the tender leaves,
whereby their colour is changed, and they wither and
decay.
The best remedy for this distemper, is gently to wash
and sprinkle over the tree, &c. from time to time, with
common water 5 and if the young shoots seem to be
much infected, let them be washed with a woollen cloth,
so as to clear them, if possible, from this glutinous mat¬
ter, that their respiration and perspiration may not be
obstructed. This operation ought to be performed early
in the day, that the moisture may be exhaled before
the cold of the night comes on : nor should it be done
when the sun shines very hot.
Another cause of blights in the spring, is sharp hoar¬
frosts, which are often succeeded by hot sunshine in the
day-time. Ibis is the most sudden and certain de¬
stroyer of the fruits that is known.
BLIGHTED corn. See Smut.
•B^IND, an epithet applied to a person or sensitive
creature deprived of the use of his eyes ; or, in other
words, to one from whom light, colours, and all the
glorious variety of the visible creation, are intercepted
by some natural or accidental disease. Such is the li-
2 teral acceptation of the term : but it is likewise used in
tura/or rae-a metaphorical sense, to signify mental or intellectual
taphorica]."darkness j antl frequently implies, at the same time,
some moral or spiritual depravity in the soul thus
blinded, which is either the efficient or continuing cause
of this internal malady. Yet, even in metaphor, the
epithet of blind is sometimes applied to a kind of ig¬
norance, which neither involves the idea of real guilt
nor of voluntary error. It is, however, our present in¬
tention to consider the word, not in its figurative, but
in its natural and primary sense. Nor do we mean in
this place to regard it as a subject of medical specula-
* See the t'on» or expl°re its causes and enumerate its cures.
Index sub- These are in the department of another science *. It is
joined to rather our design to consider, By what means this in¬
expressible misfortune may be compensated or alleviated
to those who sustain it; what advantages and consola¬
tions they may derive from it ; of what acquisitions
they may be susceptible ; what are the proper means of
their improvement; or by what culture they may be¬
come useful to themselves, and important members of
society.
blind may There is not perhaps any sense or faculty of the
be render- corporeal frame, which affords so many resources of
ed useful iu utility and entertainment as the power of vision ; nor is
an indivi- there any loss or privation which can be productive of
social^a* ^'sa^vantages or calamities so multiform, so various, and
° *a ca^a" so bitter, as the want of sight. By no avenue of cor¬
poreal perception is knowledge in her full extent, and
in all her forms, so accessible to the rational and inqui¬
ring soul, as by the glorious and delightful medium of
light. For this not only reveals external things in all
their beauties, in all their changes, and in all their va¬
rieties ; but gives body, form, and colour, to intellec¬
tual ideas and abstract essences j so that the whole ma¬
terial and intelligent creation lie in open prospect, and
the majestic frame of nature, in its whole extent, is, if
we may speak so, perceived at a single glance. To the
blind, on the contrary, the visible universe is totally
annihilated 5 he is perfectly conscious of no space but
that in which he stands, or to which his extremities can
Medicine.
How the
sity.
I5iuadvan.
taps of
blindness.
16 ] , B L I
reach. Sound, indeed, gives him some ideas of distant
objects j but those ideas are extremely obscure and in¬
distinct. They are obscure, because they consist alone
of the objects whose oscillations vibrate on his ear, and
do not necessarily suppose any other bodies with which
the intermediate space may be occupied, except that
which gives the sound alone : they are indistinct, be¬
cause sounds themselves are frequently ambiguous, and
do not uniformly and exclusively indicate their real
causes. And though by them the idea of distance in
general, or even of some particular distances, may be
obtained 5 yet they never fill the mind with those vast
and exalting ideas of extension which are inspired by
ocular perception. For though a clap of thunder, or
an explosion of ordnance, may be distinctly heard after
they have traversed an immense region of space $ yet,
when the distance is uncommonly great, it ceases to be
indicated by sound $ and therefore the ideas, acquired
by auricular experiment, of extension and interval, are
extremely confused and inadequate. The living and
comprehensive eye darts its instantaneous view over ex¬
pansive valleys, lofty mountains, protracted rivers, illi¬
mitable oceans. It measures, in an indivisible point of
time, the mighty space from earth to heaven, or from
one star to another. By the assistance of telescopes, its
horizon is almost indefinitely extended, its objects pro¬
digiously multiplied, and the sphere of its observation
nobly enlarged. By these means, the imagination,
inured to vast impressions of distance, can not only recal
them in their greatest extent with as much rapidity as
they were at first imbibed $ but can multiply them, and
add one to another, till all particular boundaries and
distances be lost in immensity. Thus nature, by pro¬
fusely irradiating the face of things, and clothing ob¬
jects in a robe of diversified splendour, not only invites
the understanding to expatiate on a theatre so exten¬
sive, so diversified, and so attractive; but entertains and
inflames the imagination with every possible exhibition
of the sublime or beautiful. The man of light and co¬
lours beholds the objects of his attention and curiosity
from far. Taught by experience, he measures their
relative distances ; distinguishes their qualities; deter¬
mines their situations, positions, and attitudes; presages
what these tokens may import ; selects his favourites;
traverses in security the space which divides them from
him ; stops at the point where they are placed ; and ei¬
ther obtains them with ease, or immediately perceives
the means by which the obstacles that intercept his
passage to them may be surmounted. The blind not
only may be, but really are, during a considerable pe¬
riod, apprehensive of danger in every motion towards
any place from whence their contracted power of per¬
ception can give them no intelligence. All the various
modes of delicate proportion, all the beautiful varieties
of light and colours, whether exhibited in the works
of nature or art, are to them irretrievably lost. Depen¬
dent for every thing, but mere subsistence, on the good
offices of others ; obnoxious to injury from every point,
which they are neither capacitated to perceive nor qua¬
lified to resist; they are, during the present state of be¬
ing, rather to be considered as prisoners at large, than
citizens of nature. The sedentary life, to which by
privation of sight they are destined, relaxes their frame,
and subjects them to all the disagreeable sensations
which arise from dejection of spirits. Hence the most
feeble
Blind.
5
lie situa-
fim of the
[Snd de-
uribed by
Oets.
6
Bomer.
«itou.
B L 1 [ 71? 1
B L I
feeble exertions create lassitude and uneasiness. Hence
the native tone of the nervous system, which alone is
compatible with health and pleasure, destroyed by in¬
activity, exasperates and embitters, every disagreeable
impression. Natural evils, however, are always sup¬
portable ; they not only arise from blind and undesign¬
ing causes, but are either mild in their attacks, or short
in their duration : it is the miseries which are inflicted
by conscious and reflecting agents alone, that can de¬
serve the name of evils. These excruciate the soul with
ineffable poignancy, as expressive of indifference or
malignity in those by whom such bitter potions are
cruelly administered. The negligence of wantonness,
therefore, with which the blind are too frequently
treated, is an enormity which God alone has justice to
feel or power to punish.
Those among them who have had sensibility to feel,
and capacity to express, the effects of their misfortunes,
have described them in a manner capable of penetrat¬
ing the most callous heart. The venerable father of
epic poetry, who in the person of Demodocus the Phaea-
cian bard is said to have described his own situation,
proceeds thus :
Ta» Trt^i My<r emXriO-i, £<^8 ei'/xSct rs, Kctnoy T»
OtpdctXftin fitv (tfiigtre, d’vitfeioi* ccot^nt. ODYS. 6.
Dear to the muse, who gave his days to flow
With mighty blessings mix’d with mighty wo,
In clouds and darkness quench’d his visual ray,
Yet gave him power to I'aise the lofty lay. Pope.
Milton, in his address to light, after a sublime de¬
scription of his arduous and gloomy journey from the
regions of primeval darkness to this our visible diurnal
sphere, thus continues to apostrophize the celestial
beam :
Taught by the beav’nly muse to venture down
The dark- descent, and up to reascend,
Though hard and rare j thee I revisit safe,
And feel thy sov’reign vital lamp : but thou
Revisit’st not these eyes, that roll in vain
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn :
So thick a drop serene hath quench’d their orbs,
Or dim suffusion veil’d. Yet not the more
Cease I to wander, where the muses haunt
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill,
Smit with the love of sacred song: but chief
Thee, Sion, and the flow’ry brooks beneath,
That wash thy hallow’d feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit ; nor sometimes forget
Those other two equall’d with me in fate,
So were I equall’d with them in renown,
Blind Thamyris, and blind Mseonides,
And Tiresias and Phineus prophets old:
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year
Seasons return ; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of ev’n or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine j
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark,
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Bficd.
Presented with an universal blank, w-^—i
Of nature’s works to me expung’d and ras’d,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Par. Lost, Book III.
The same inimitable author, in his tragedy of Samp¬
son Agonistes, and in the person of his hero, deplores
the misfortune of blindness with a pathos and energy
sufficient to extort the deepest sighs from the most un¬
feeling hearts:
•   ■   But chief of all,
O loss of sight, of thee I must complain !
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, or beggary, decrepid age.
Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct,
And all her various objects of delight
Annull’d, which might in part my grief have eas’d.
Inferior to the vilest now become
Of man or worm. The vilest here excel me :
They creep, yet Itee j I dark in light, expos’d
To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong,
Within doors, or without, still as a fool,
In power of others, never in my own }
Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half.
O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon.
Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse
Without all hope of day !
O first-created Beam, and thou great Word,
Let there he light, and light was over all!
Why am I thus bereav’d thy prime decree ?
The sun to me is dark,
And silent, as the moon
When she deserts the night,
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
Since light so necessary is to life,
And almost life itself, if it be true
That light is in the soul,
She all in every part $ why was the sight
To such a tender ball as th’ eye confin’d !
So obvious, and so easy to be quench’d ?
And not, as feeling, throughout all parts diffus’d^
That she might look at will through ev’ry pore ?
Then had I not been thus exil’d from light,
As in the land of darkness, yet in light,
To live a life half dead, a living death :
And bury’d j but yet more miserable !
Myself the sepulchre, a moving grave}
Bury’d, yet not exempt
By privilege of death and burial
Prom worst of other evils, pains and wrongs,.
But made hereby obnoxious more
To all the miseries of life.
8
Ossian, the Caledonian bard, who lived before the au-Ossiam
thenticated history of his nation dates its origin, who in
his old age participated the same calamity, has in more
than one passage of his works described his situation in
a manner so delicate, yet so pathetic, that it pierces the
inmost recesses, and excites the finest feelings of the
heart. Of these passages, take the following:
“ O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of
my fathers ! whence are thy beams, O sun ! whence
thy everlasting light ? Thou comest forth in thy awful
beauty, and the stays hide themselves in. the sky }. the
moon,.
■Blind.
The dejec¬
tion attend
ing blind¬
ness ac¬
counted for.
10
Some ad¬
vantages
peculiar to
the blind.
B L I [ 7,
moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But
thou thyself movest alone: who can he a companion
of thy course ? The oaks of the mountains fall; the
mountains themselves decay with years j the ocean
shrinks and grows again ; the moon herself is lost in
heaven : but thou art for ever the same j rejoicing in
the brightness of thy course. When the world is dark
with tempests •, when thunder rolls and lightning glances
through the heavens *, thou lookest in thy beauty from
the clouds, and laoghest at the storm. But to Ossian
thou lookest in vain: for he beholds thy beams no more;
whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or
thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art,
perhaps, like me, for a season ; and thy years will have
an end ; thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the
voice of the morning.—Exult then, O sun, in the
strength of thy youth ! age is dark and unlovely ; it is
like the glimmering light of the moon, when it shines
through broken clouds, and the mist is on the hills, the
bowling blast of the north is on the plain, the traveller
shrinks in the midst of his journey.”
Thus dependent on every creature, and passive to
every accident, can the world, the uncharitable world,
be surprised to observe moments when the blind are at
variance with themselves and every thing else around
them ? With the same instincts of self-preservation,
the same irascible passions which are common to the
species, and exasperated by a sense of debility either
for retaliation or defence ; can the blind be real objects
of resentment or contempt, even 'when they seem peevish
or vindictive ? This, however, is not always their cha¬
racter. Their behaviour is often highly expressive, not
only of resignation, but even of cheerfulness; and though
they are often coldly, and even inhumanly, treated by
men, yet they are rarely, if ever, forsaken of heaven.
The common Parent of nature, whose benignity is per¬
manent as his existence and boundless as his empire,
has neither left his afflicted creatures without consola¬
tion or resource. Even from their loss, however op¬
pressive and irretrievable, they derive advantages; not
indeed adequate to recompense, but sufficient to alle¬
viate, their misery. The attention of the soul, con¬
fined to these avenues of perception which she can com¬
mand, is neither dissipated nor confounded by the im¬
mense multiplicity nor the rapid succession of surround-
8 ] B L T
ing objects. Hence her contemplations are more uni¬
formly fixed upon herself, and the revolutions of her
own internal frame. Hence her perceptions of such
external things as are contiguous and obvious to her
observation become more lively and exquisite. Hence
even her instruments of corporeal sensation are more as¬
siduously cultivated and improved, so that from them
she derives such notices and presages of approaching
pleasure or impending danger as entirely escape the at¬
tention of those who depend for security on the reports
of their eyes. A blind man, when walking swiftly,
or running, is kindly and effectually checked by na¬
ture from rudely encountering such hard and extended
objects as might hurt or bruise him. When he ap¬
proaches bodies of this kind, he feels the atmosphere
more sensibly resist his progress ; and in proportion as
his motion is accelerated, or bis distance from the ob¬
ject diminished, the resistance is increased. He di¬
stinguishes the approach of his friend from far by the
sound ol his steps, by his manner of breathing, and
almost by every audible token which he can exhibit.
Prepared for the dangers which he may encounter from
the surface of the ground upon which he walks, his
step is habitually firm and cautious. Hence he not
only avoids those falls which might he occasioned by
its less formidable inequalities, but from its general
bias he collects some ideas how far his safety is imme¬
diately concerned ; and though these conjectures may"
be sometimes fallacious, yet they are generally so true,
as to preserve him from such accidents as are not in¬
curred by his own temerity. The rapid torrent and
the deep cascade not only warn him to keep a proper
distance, but inform him in what direction he moves,
and are a kind of audible cynosures to regulate his course.
In places to which he has been accustomed, he as it
W'ere recognizes his latitude and longitude from every
breath of varied fragrance that tinges the gale, from
every ascent or declivity in the road, from every natural
or artificial sound that strikes his ear ; if these indica¬
tions be stationary, and confined to particular places.
Regulated by these signs, the blind have not only been
knowm to perform long journeys themselves, but to con¬
duct others through dangerous paths at the dark and
silent hour of midnight, with the utmost security and
exactness (a).
It
(a) We have read, in authors of good credit, of a very surprising blind guide who used to conduct the
merchants through the sands and deserts of Arabia. Vide Leo Jfric. Descr. Afr. lib. vi. p. 246. and Casaub.
Treat, of Enthus. c. ii. p. 45.
An instance no less marvellous exists at this present time, 1788, and in our own country. “ John Metcalf, a
native of the neighbourhood of Manchester, where he is well known, became blind at a very early age, so as to
be entirely unconscious of light and its various effects. This man passed the younger part of his life as a wag¬
goner, and occasionally as a guide in intricate roads during the night or when the tracks were covered with
snow. Strange as this may appear to those who can see, the employment he has since undertaken is still more
extraordinary : it is one of the last to which we could suppose a blind man would ever turn his attention. His
present occupation is that of a projector and surveyor of highways in difficult and mountainous parts. With
the assistance only of a long staff, I have several times met this man traversing the roads, ascending precipices,
exploring valleys, and investigating their several extents, forms, and situations, so as to answer his designs in the
best manner. The plans which he designs, and the estimates he makes, are done in a method peculiar to him¬
self; and which he cannot well convey the meaning of to others. His abilities in this respect are nevertheless
so great, that he finds constant employment. Most of the roads over the Peak in Derbyshire have been altered
by his directions ; particularly those in the vicinity of Buxton : and he is at this time constructing a new one
betwixt Wilraslow and Congleton, with a view to open a communication to the great London road, without be¬
ing
B L I [ 719 ] B L I
Blind. were endless to recapitulate the various media-
—^ nical operations of which they are capable, by their
11 nicety ami accuracy of touch. In some the tactile
lebHrid Powers are sa^ to liave been so highly improved, as to
■cable to perceive that texture and disposition of coloured sur-
stinguiBh faces by which some rays of light are reflected and
•lours. others absorbed, and in this manner to distinguish co¬
lours. But the testimonies for this fact still appear to
us too vague and general to deserve public credit. We
have known a person who lost the use of his sight at an
early period of infancy, who in the vivacity or deli¬
cacy of his sensations was not perhaps inferior to any
one, and who had often heard of others in his own si¬
tuation capable of distinguishing colours by touch with
the utmost exactness and promptitude. Stimulated,
therefore, partly by curiosity to acquire a new train of
ideas, if that acquisition were possible $ but still more
by incredulity with respect to the facts related; he
tried repeated experiments, by touching the surfaces
of different bodies, and examining whether any such
diversities could be found in them as might enable him
to distinguish colours : hut no such diversity could he
ever ascertain. Sometimes, indeed, he imagined that
objects which had no colour, or, in other words, such
as were black, were somewhat different and peculiar in
their surfaces ; but this experiment did not always nor
universally hold. His scepticism therefore still conti¬
nues to prevail (b). That their acoustic perceptions
are distinct and accurate, we may fairly conclude from
the rapidity with which they ascertain the acuteness or
gravity of different tones, as relative one to another :
and from their exact discernment of the various kinds
and modifications of sound, and of sonorous objects, if
the sounds themselves be in any degree significant of
their causes. From this vivacity and accuracy of ex¬
ternal sensation, and from the assiduous and vigorous
application of a comprehensive and attentive mind a- Blind;
lone, we are able to account for the rapid and astonish- '•—■'v——J
ing progress which some of them have made, not only
in those departments of literature which were most ob¬
vious to their senses and accessible to their understand¬
ings, but even in the abstractest, and (if we may be al¬
lowed the expression) in the most occult sciences. J2
What, for instance, can be more remote from the con-instances'
ceptions of a blind man than the abstract relations and bow far
properties of space and quantity? yet the incompre-ar.e
hensible attainments of Dr Saunderson in all the^.8^^^
brandies of mathematics are now fully known and learning,
firmly believed by the whole literary world, both from
the testimony of his pupils and the publication of his
works. But should the fact be still uncertain, it might
be sufficiently verified by a living prodigy of this kind
with which our country is at present honoured. The
gentleman of whom we now speak, though blind from
his infancy, by the ardour and assiduity of his applica¬
tion, and by the force of a genius to which nothing is
impenetrable, has not only made incredible advances in
mechanical operations, in music, and in the languages ;
but is likewise profoundly skilled in geometry, in op¬
tics, in algebra, in astronomy, in chemistry, and in all
the other branches of natural philosophy as taught by
Newton and received by an admiring world. We are
sorry that neither the modesty of this amiable philoso¬
pher, nor the limits of this article, will permit us to
delineate his character in its full proportions : All we
can do is to exhibit his example, that hy it the vulgar
prejudice, which presumes to think blindness and learn¬
ing incompatible, may be dissipated; and that an in¬
stance of success so noble and recent may inflame the
emulation and encourage the efforts of such as have
genius and opportunity to pursue the same laudable
path (c). If these glorious attempts should neither be
perceived
ing obliged to pass over the mountains.” Account by Dr Bew, published in the Transactions of the Manchester
Society, vol. i.
(b) See, however, the extraordinary case subjoined to this article.
(c) As particular anecdotes of this astonishing genius have been, since a former edition of the Encyclopaedia,
delivered to the Manchester Society, by G. Bew, M. D. and afterwards published, we shall here take the liberty
to transcribe them from the original volume in which they are inserted, as this freedom is authorized by a letter
from Dr Bew’s own hand.
“ Dr Henry Moyes, who occasionally read Lectures on Philosophical Chemistry at Manchester, like Dr Saun¬
derson, the celebrated professor of Cambridge, lost his sight by the small pox in his early infancy. He never re¬
collected to have seen : ‘ but the first traces of memory I have (says he), are in some confused ideas of the solar
system.’ He had the good fortune to be born in a country where learning of every kind is highly cultivated, and
to be brought up in a family devoted to learning.
Possessed of native genius, and ardent in his application, he made rapid advances in various departments of
erudition; and not only acquired the fundamental principles of mechanics, music, and the languages, but like¬
wise entered deeply into the investigation of the profounder sciences, and displayed an acute and general know¬
ledge of geometry, optics, algebra, astronomy, chemistry, and in short of most of the branches of the Newtonian
philosophy.
“ Mechanical exercises were the favourite employment of his infant years. At a very early age he made him¬
self acquainted with the use of edged tools so perfectly, that notwithstanding his entire blindness, he was able to
make little windmills ; and he even constructed a loom with his own hands, which still show the cicatrices of
wmunds he received in the execution of these juvenile exploits.
“ By a most agreeable intimacy and frequent intercourse which I enjoyed with this accomplished blind
gentleman, whilst he resided in Manchester, I had an opportunity of repeatedly observing the peculiar manner in
which he arranged his ideas and acquired his information. Whenever he was introduced into company, I re¬
marked that he continued some time silent. The sound directed him to judge of the dimensions of the room,
and the different voices of the number of persons that were present. His distinction in these respects was very
accurate r
B L I
Blind.
*3
Accounts
of the ef¬
fects of re¬
covered
sight up¬
on those
who have
been bom
blind un¬
certain.
perceived nor rewarded by an unfeeling world, if hu-
J man nature should forget to recognize its own excel¬
lence so nobly displayed in instances of this kind $ yet
besides the. enjoyments resulting from a sublime and
comprehensive understanding, besides the immortal and
inexhaustible sources of delight, which are the peculiar
portion of a self-approving mind, these happy pupils
and favourites of Nature are as it were indulged with
her personal intercourse. They become more intimate¬
ly acquainted with her laws, till by exploring the be¬
neficence of her economy, the sublimity of her ends,
the regularity ol her procedure, and the beauties of her
frame, they imbibe the spirit, and feel the presence of
her glorious Author :
By swift degrees the love of nature works,
And warms the bosom ; till at last, sublim’d
To rapture and enthusiastic heat,
We feel the present deity, and taste
The joy of God to see a happy world.
Thomson.
Much labour has been bestowed to investigate, both
from reason a prioi'i and from experiment, what might
he the primary effects of light and luminous objects
upon such as have been born blind, or early deprived
ot sight, if at a maturer period they should instanta¬
neously recover their visual powers. But upon this topic
there is much reason to fear, that nothing satisfactory
has yet been said. The fallacy of hypothesis and con¬
jecture, when formed a priori with respect to any or¬
gan of corporeal sensation and its proper object, is too
obvious to demand illustration. But from the nature
of the eye, and the medium of its perception, to at¬
[ 720 ]
B L I
tempt an investigation of the various and multiform Blind,
phenomena of vision, or even of the varieties of which -y—-
every particular phenomenon is susceptible according
as the circumstances of its appearance are diversified,
would be a project worthy of philosophy in a delirium.
Nay, even the discoveries which are said to accrue from
experiment, may still be held as extremely doubtful
and suspicious ; because in these experiments it does
not appear to have been ascertained, that the organs to
which visible objects were presented immediately after
chirurgical operations, could he in a proper state to
perceive them. Yet, after all, it is extremely probable,
that figure, distance, and magnitude, are not immediate
pbjects of ocular sensation, but acquired and adjusted
by long and reiterated experience (d). There are,
however, many desiderata, which the perceptions of a
man born blind might considerably illustrate, if his
instruments of vision were in a right state, and as¬
sisted by a proper medium. Such a person might per¬
haps give a clearer account, why objects, whose pic¬
tures are inverted upon the retina of the eye, should
appear to the mind in their real positions $ or why,
though each particular object is painted upon the re¬
tina of both our eyes, it should only be perceived as
single. Perhaps, too, this new spectator of visible na¬
ture might equally amuse our curiosity and improve our
theory, by attempting to describe his earliest sensations
of colour, and its original effects upon his organ and
his fancy. But, as we have already hinted, it is far
from being certain, that trials of this kind have ever
been fairly made. Such readers as may wish to see a
more minute detail of these questions, may consult M.
Diderot’s Lettre sur les aveugles, a Vusage de ceux QuiDfderoft
voyent: Works,
▼ol. ii.
accurate j and his memory so retentive, that he seldom was mistaken. I have known him instantly recognize a
person, on first hearing him speak, though more than two years had elapsed since the time of their last meeting.
He determined pretty nearly the stature of those he was speaking with by the direction of their voices : and he
made tolerable conjectures respecting their tempers and disposition, by the manner in which they conducted their
conversation.
“ It must be observed, that this gentleman’s eyes were not totally insensible to intense light. The rays re¬
fracted through a prism, when sufficiently vivid, produced certain distinguishable effects upon them. The red
gave him a disagreeable sensation, which he compared to the touch of a saw. As the colours declined in violence,
the harshness lessened, until the green afforded a sensation that was highly pleasing to him, and which he descri¬
bed as conveying an idea similar to what he felt in running his hand over a smooth polished surface. Polished
surfaces, meandering streams, and gentle declivities, were the figures by which he expressed his ideas of beauty:
Bugged rocks, irregular points, and boisterous elements, furnished him with expressions for terror and disgust.
He excelled in the charms of conversation ; was happy in his allusions to visual objects j and discoursed on the
nature, composition, and beauty of colours, with pertinence and precision.
“ Doctor Moyes was a striking instance of the power the human soul possesses of finding resources of satis¬
faction, even under the most rigorous calamities. Though involved 4 in ever-during darkness,’ and excluded
from the charming views of silent or animated nature ; though dependent on an undertaking for the means of
his subsistence, the success of which was very precarious ; in short, though destitute of other support than his
genius, and under the mercenary protection of a person whose integrity he suspected, still Dr Moyes was gene¬
rally cheerful, and apparently happy. Indeed it must afford much pleasure to the feeling heart to observe this
hilarity of temper prevail almost universally with the blind. Though cut off from the ways of men, and the con¬
templation of the human face divine, they have this consolation ; they are exempt from the discernment and con¬
tagious influence of those painful emotions of the soul that are visible on the countenance, and which hypocrisy
itself can scarcely conceal. This disposition likewise may be considered as an internal evidence of the native
worth of the human mind, that thus supports its dignity and cheerfulness under one of the severest misfortunes
that can possibly befal us.”
(d) The gentleman couched by Mr Cheselden had no idea of distance j but thought that all the objeefs he saw,
touched his eyes, as what he felt did his skiu. It was a considerable time before he could remember which was
the cat and which the dog, though often informed, without first feeling them.
Blind.
f-tee Dr
Jdd'it In-
f ry into
U Human
fflnd,
cfnp. yL
f . *•
i 14
Bw the
btid catch
tl enthu-
nsm in-
ifred by
r ml per-
&itions, a
p adox.
B L I [72
voyent: li A letter concerning the blind for the use of
those who see.” To these may be added, Mr C/iesel-
den',s Anatomy, and Locke's Essay on the Human Un¬
derstanding.
When we ruminate on the numberless advantages
derived from the use of sight, and its immense import¬
ance-, in extending the human capacity, or in improving
and cultivating every faculty and every function of the
mind, we might be strongly tempted to doubt the
fidelity of those reports which we have heard concern¬
ing such persons as, without the assistance of light,
have arrived at high degrees of eminence even in those
sciences which appear absolutely unattainable but by
the interposition of external mediums. It has, how¬
ever, been demonstrated by a late ingenious author,
that blind men, by proper instruction, are susceptible
almost of every idea, and of every truth which can be
impressed on the mind by the mediation of light and
colours, except the sensations of light and colours them¬
selves f.
Yet there is one phenomenon of this kind which
seems to have escaped the attention of that great philo¬
sopher, and for which no author either of this or any
former period has been able to offer any tolerable ac¬
count. Still, however, it seems to merit the attention
of a philosopher. For though we should admit, that
the blind can understand with great perspicuity all the
phenomena of light and colours ; though it were al¬
lowed, that in these subjects they might extend their
speculations beyond their instructions, and investigate
the mechanical principles of optics by the mere force
of genius and application, from the data which they
had already obtained j yet it will be difficult, if not
impossible, to assign any reason why these objects should
be more interesting to a blind man than any other ab¬
stract truths whatever. It is possible for the blind, by
a retentive memory, to tell you, That the sky is an
azure ; that the sun, moon, and stars, are bright; and
the rose is red, the lily white or yellow, and the tulip
variegated. By continually hearing these substantives
and adjectives joined, he may be mechanically taught
to join them in the same manner ; but as he never had
any sensation of colour, however accurately he may
speak of coloured objects, his language must be like
that of a parrot ; without meaning, or without ideas.
Homer, Milton, and Ossian, had been long acquainted
with the visible world before they were surrounded
with clouds and ever-during darkness. They might,
therefore, still retain the warm and pleasing impressions
of what they had seen. Their descriptions might be
animated with all the rapture and enthusiasm which ori¬
ginally fired their bosoms, when the grand or delightful
objects which they delineated were immediately beheld.
Nay, that enthusiasm might still be heightened by a
hitter sense of their loss, and by that regret which a si¬
tuation so dismal might naturally inspire. But how
shall we account for the same energy, the same transport
of description, exhibited by those on whose minds vi¬
sible objects were either never impressed, or have been
entirely obliterated ? Yet, however unaccountable this
fact may appear, it is no less certain than extraordinary.
Vol.' III. Part II. f
I ] B L I
But delicacy and other particular circumstances forbid
us to enter into this disquisition with that minuteness
and precision which it requires. We only mention the
fact as one amongst the few resources for entertainment,
and avenues to reputation, which are still reserved for
the blind. Whoever thinks the subject of sufficient
consequence to merit a nicer scrutiny, may consult the
Preface to Blacklock's Poems, written by G. G. Esq.
and printed at Edinburgh 1754, or the account of his
life and writings by the Rev. Mr Spence, prefixed to
a quarto edition of his poems published at London in
1756.
It is hoped, however, that we shall not be suspected
of partiality for inserting a character of the same au¬
thor by one who was a foreigner, a stranger to his
person, and prepossessed in his favour by his works
alone.
“ Blacklock will appear to posterity a fabulous cha¬
racter : even now he is a prodigy. It will be thought
a fiction and a paradox, that a man quite blind since
he was three years old (e), besides having made him¬
self so good a master of various languages, of Greek,
Latin, Italian, and French, should also be a great
poet in his own 5 and without hardly ever having
seen the light, should be so remarkably happy in de¬
scription I.”
It is impossible to enter into a detail of particulars
with respect to the education of the blind. These must
be left to be determined by the genius, the capacity,
the circumstances, of those to whom the general rules
which may be given should be applied. Much, there¬
fore, must depend on their fortunes, much on their tem¬
per and genius ; for, unless these particulars were
known, every answer which could be given to questions
of this kind must be extremely general, and of conse¬
quence extremely superficial. Besides, the task is so
much more arduous, because whoever attempts it can
expect to derive no assistance from those who have writ¬
ten on education before him : And though the blind
have excelled in more than one science ; yet, except in
the case of Saunderson, professor of mathematics in the
university of Cambridge, concerning whom we shall
afterwards have occasion to speak, it does not appear,
that any of them have been conducted to that degree
of eminence at which they arrived, upon a premedi¬
tated plan. One should rather imagine, that they have
been led through the general course and ordinary forms
of discipline ; and that, if any circumstances were fa¬
vourable to their genius, they rather proceeded from
accident than design.
This fact, if not supported by irrefragable evidence,
should, for the honour of human nature, have been sup¬
pressed. When contemplated by a man of benevolence
and understanding, it is not easy to guess whether his
mortification or astonishment would be most sensibly felt.
If a heart that glow's with real philanthropy must feel
for the whole vital creation, and become, in some
measure, the sensorium of every suffering insect or rep¬
tile j how must our sympathy increase in tenderness
and force, when the distressed individuals of our own
species become its objects ? Nor do the blind bear so
4 Y small
Blind.
| Carlo De-
nina Dis-
corso de la
Litteratu-
ra, chap,
xi.
*5
Gf the edu-
cation of
the blind.
(e) The author is here mistaken : Dr Blacklock only saw the light for five months.
B L I
16
Why the
blind de¬
serve, and
how they
may repay
’-7
Proper em
ployments
for the
blind.
Blind, small a proportion to the whole community, as even
v—' in a political view, to be neglected. But in this, as in
every other political crime, the punishment returns up¬
on the society in which it is committed. Those aban¬
doned and unimproved beings, who, under the influence
of proper culture and discipline, might have successfully
concurred in producing and augmenting the general
welfare, become the nuisances and burdens of those very
societies who have neglected them.
There is perhaps no rank of beings in the sensible
universe, who have suffered from nature or accident,
more meritorious of public compassion, or better qua¬
lified to repay its generous exertions, than the blind,
public sym-They are meritorious of compassion j for their sphere
pathy. of action and observation is infinitely more limited than
that of the deaf, the lame, or of those who labour un¬
der any other corporeal infirmity consistent with health.
I hey are better qualified to repay any friendly inter¬
position for their happiness ; because, free from the di¬
straction which attends that multiplicity of objects and
pursuits that are continually obvious to the sight,
they are more attentive to their own internal economy,
to the particular notices of good and evil impressed on
their hearts, and to that peculiar province in which they
are circumscribed by the nature and cultivation of their
powers.
It will easily occur to the reader, that, if the pupil
should not be placed in easy circumstances, music is his
readiest and most probable resource. Civil and eccle¬
siastical employments have either something in their
own nature, or in the invincible prejudices of mankind,
which renders them almost entirely inaccessible to those
who have lost the use of sight. No liberal and culti¬
vated mind can entertain the least hesitation in con¬
cluding, that there is nothing, either in the nature of
things, or even in the positive institutions of genuine
religion, repugnant to the idea of a blind clergyman.
But the novelty of the phenomenon, while it astonishes
vulgar and contracted understandings, inflames their
zeal to rage and madness. Besides, the adventitious
trappings and ceremonies assumed by some churches as
the drapery of religion, would, according to these sy¬
stems, render the sacerdotal office painful, if not im¬
practicable, to the blind.
* Dr Ni- We have, some years ago, read of a blind gentleman *,
c/tolas Ba- descended from the same family with the celebrated lord
con. Verulam, who, in the city of Brussels, was with high
approbation created doctor of laws j since that period
we have been honoured with his correspondence. He
was deprived of sight at nine years of age by an arrow
from a cross bow whilst he was attempting to shoot it.
When he had recovered his health, which had suffered
by the shock, he pursued the same plan of education in
which he had been engaged j and having heard that
one Nicasius de Vourde, born blind, who lived towards
the end of the 15th century, after having distinguished
himself by his studies in the university of Louvain, took
his degree as doctor of divinity in the university of Co¬
logne $ this motive prevailed with him to make the
same attempt. But the public, cursed with prejudices
for which the meanest sensitive nature might blush, pre¬
judices equally beneath the brutality and ignorance of
the lowest animal instinct, treated his intention with
ridicule : even the professors w’ere not far from being
of that sentiment j and they admitted him into their
[ 722 ]
B L I
Blind,
schools, rather from an impression, that it might amuse
him, than become of any use to him. Pie had the good 1
fortune, however, contrary to their expectations, to
obtain the first places among his condisciples. It was
then said, that such rapid advances might be made in
the preliminary branches of his education j but would
soon be effectually checked by studies of a more pro¬
found and abstracted nature. This, it seems, was re¬
peated from school to school, through the whole climax:
of his pursuits ; and when, in the course of academical
learning, it became necessary to study poetry, it was the
general voice that all was over, and that at length he
had reached his ne plus ultra. But here he likewise
confronted their prepossessions, and taught them the im¬
mense difference between blindness of body and blind¬
ness of soul. After continuing his studies in learning
and philosophy for two years more, he applied himself
to law, took his degree in that science, commenced
pleading counsellor or advocate in the council of Bra¬
bant, and has had the pleasure of terminating almost
every suit in which he has been engaged to the satisfac¬
tion of his clients. jg
Had it not been for a fact so striking and so well Law diffi-
authenticated, though there could have been no doubt cuh. tho’
that a blind man might discharge the office of a cbam-
ber-counsel with success; yet as a barrister, his dif-the
Acuities must have appeared more formidable, if not
absolutely insuperable. For he should remember all
the sources, whether in natural equity or positive insti¬
tutions, whether in common or statutory law, from
yj’hence his argument ought to be drawn. He must
be able to specify, and to arrange in their proper or¬
der, all the material objections of his antagonists :
these he must likewise answer as they were proposed,
extempore.
When, therefore, it is considered how difficult it is
to temper the natural association of memory with the
artificial arrangements of judgment, the desultory flights
of imagination with the calm and regular deductions
of reason, the energy and perturbation of passion with
the coolness and tranquillity of deliberation ; some idea
may be formed of the arduous task which every blind
man must atchieve, who undertakes to pursue the law
as a profession. Perhaps assistances might be drawn
from Cicero’s treatise on Topics and on Invention ;
which, if happily applied and improved, might lessen
the disparity of a blind man to others, but could scarce¬
ly place him on an equal footing with his brethren.
And it ought to be. fixed as an inviolable maxim, that
no blind man ought ever to engage in any province
in which it is not in his power to excel. This may at
first sight appear paradoxical ; but it is easily explain-
ed. For the consciousness of the obvious advantages The blind
possessed by others, habitually predisposes a blind man naturally
to despondency : and if he ever gives way to despair *ul)ject,te<jl>
(which he will be too apt to do when pursuing any ac-cy‘ s]10U]d
quisitions when others have a better chance of success be stimula-
than himself), adieu, for ever adieu, to all proficiency, ted by the^
His soul sinks into irretrievable depression ; his abor-
tive attempts incessantly prey upon his spirit; and heeXcei!ence.
not only loses that vigour and elasticity of mind which
are necessary to carry him through life, but that pa¬
tience and serenity which alone can qualify him to en¬
joy k- . . .
Iu this recapitulation of the learned professions, we
have
B L I
Blind- have intentionally omitted physic; because the ob-
\ 1 stacles which a blind man must encounter, whether
in the theory or practice of that art, will be more
jpSS1^cr‘easity conceived by our readers than described in de-
pcticable ta'** From this, therefore, let us pass to more general
ttthe subjects.
It has been formerly hinted, that the blind were ob¬
jects of compassion, because their sphere of action and
observation was limited : and this is certainly true.
For what is human existence, in its present state, if you
deprive it of action and contemplation ? Nothing then
remains but the distinction which we derive from form
or from sensitive and locomotive powers. But for these,
unless directed to happier ends hy superior faculties, few
rational beings would, in our opinion, be grateful.
The most important view, therefore, which we can en¬
tertain in the education of a person deprived of sight, is
to redress as effectually as possible the natural disadvan¬
tages with which he is encumbered ; or, in other words,
to enlarge as far as possible the sphere of his knowledge
and activity. This can only be done by the improve¬
ment of his intellectual, imaginative, or mechanical,
powers j and which of these ought to be most assidu¬
ously cultivated, the genius of every individual alone
can determine. Were men to judge of things by their
intrinsic natures, less would be expected from the blind
than others. But, by some pernicious and unaccount¬
able prejudice, people generally hope to find them ei¬
ther possessed of preternatural talents, or more attentive
to those which they have than others : For it was not
Ilochester’s opinion alone,
' That if one sense should he suppress’d,
It but retires into the rest.
Hence it unluckily happens, that blind men, who
in common life are too often regarded as rareshows,
when they do not gratify the extravagant expectations
of their spectators, too frequently sink in the general
opinion, and appear much less considerable and merito¬
rious than they really are. This general diffidence of
their power at once deprives them both of opportunity
and spirit to exert themselves j and they descend, at
last, to that degree of insignificance in which the pub¬
lic estimate has fixed them. From the original dawn¬
ing, therefore, of reason and spirit, the parents and
tutors of the blind ought to inculcate this maxim, That
it is their indispensable duty to excel, and that it is ab¬
solutely in their power to attain a high degree of emi-
should nence. To impress this notion on their minds, the first
lather be objects presented to their observation, and the first me-
w difficult thods of improvement applied to their understanding,
^ l0° ought, with no great difficulty, to be comprehensible
[ 723 ]
B L I
j 0T
lo much
olen ex¬
isted from
£} blind.
5e de¬
nts of
ication
fJl the
by those internal powers and external senses which they
possess. Not that improvement should be renderecT
quite easy to them, if such a plan were possible : For
all difficulties, which are not really or apparently in¬
superable, heighten the charms and enhance the value
of those acquisitions which they seem to retard. But
powers care should be taken that these difficulties be not mag-
!tion nified or exaggerated by imagination j for it has before
blindbeen mentioned, that the blind have a painful sense
uld ne- own incapacity, and consequently a strong
be su- propensity to despair continually awake in their minds,
icded. For this reason, parents and relations ought never to
be too ready in offering their assistance to the blind
in any office which they can pe rform, or in any ac*
quisition which they can procure for themselves, w'he- ^
ther they are prompted by amusement or necessity.
Bet a blind boy be permitted to walk through the
neighbourhood without a guide, not only though he
should run some hazard, but even though he should suf¬
fer some pain.
If he has a mechanical turn, let him not be denied
the use of edge-tools •, for it is better that he should
lose a little blood, or even break a bone, than be per¬
petually confined to the same place, debilitated in his
frame, and depressed in his mind. Such a being can
have no employment but to feel his own weakness, and
become his own tormentor; or to transfer to others
all the malignity and peevishness arising from the na¬
tural, adventitious, or imaginary evils which he feels.
Scars, fractures, and dislocations in his body, are trivial
misfortunes compared with imbecility, timidity, or fret¬
fulness of mind. Besides the sensible and dreadful ef¬
fects which ^inactivity must have in relaxing the nerves,
and consequently in depressing the spirits, nothing can
be more productive of jealousy, envy, peevishness, and
every passion that corrodes the soul to agony, than a
painful impression of dependence on others, and of our
insufficiency for our own happiness. This impression,
which, even in his most improved state, will be too
deeply felt by every blind man, is redoubled by that
utter incapacity of action which must result from the
officious humanity of those who would anticipate or
supply all his wants, who would prevent all his motions,
who would do or procure every thing for him without
his own interposition. It is the course of nature, that
blind people, as well as others, should survive their pa¬
rents; or, it may happen, that they should likewise sur¬
vive those who, by the ties of blood and nature, are
more immediately interested in their happiness than the
rest of mankind. When, therefore, they fall into the
hands of the world in general, such exigencies as they
themselves cannot redress will be but coldly and lan¬
guidly supplied by others. Their expectations will be
high and frequent, their disappointments many and sen¬
sible j their petitions will often be refused, seldom fully
gratified j and, even when granted, the concession will
be so ungraceful, as to render its want infinitely more
tolerable than its fruition. For all these reasons, we
repeat ;t once more (because it can never be too fre¬
quently reiterated), that, in the formation of a blind
man, it is infinitely better to direct than to supersede his
own exertions. Irom the time that he can move and
feel, let him be taught to supply his own exigencies j to
dress and feed himself j to run from place to place,
either for exercise, or in pursuit of his own toys or ne¬
cessaries.
In these excursions, however, it will be highly pro¬
per for his parent or tutor to superintend his motions
at a distance, without seeming to watch over him. A
vigilance too apparent, may impress him with a notion
that malignity or some other selfish motion may have
produced it. When dangers are obvious and great,
such as we incur by rivers, precipices, &c. those who
are intrusted with the blind will find it neither necessary
nor expedient to make their vigilance a secret. They
ought then to acquaint their pupil, that they are pre¬
sent with him j and to interpose for his preservation,
whenever his temerity renders it necessary. But ob-
4 Y 2 jects
Blind.
B L I
Blind.
24
Exercises
suitable to
tlie blind.
. ,25
Riding on
horseback.
25
Walking in
all wea¬
thers that
are tolera¬
ble.
27
Durab-
beils.
28
Bath-chair.
jects of a nature less noxious which may give him some
* pain without any permanent injury or mutilation, may
with design be thrown in this way : providing, how¬
ever, that this design be always industriously conceal¬
ed. For his own experience of their bad effects will
be an infinitely more eloquent and sensible monitor,
than the abstract and frigid counsels of any adviser
whatever.
When the volatile season of puerile amusement is
expired, and the impetuous burry of animal-spirits sub¬
sides, through the whole demeanour of his pupil the
tutor will probably observe a more sensible degree of
timidity and precaution, and his activity will then re¬
quire to be stimulated more than restrained. In this
crisis, exercise will he found requisite, rather to pre¬
serve health, and facilitate the vital functions, than
merely for recreation. Of all the different kinds of
exercise, riding, not in a machine, but on horseback,
is by far the most eligible, and most productive of its
end. On these occasions, however, care must be ta¬
ken that the horses employed may neither be capricious
nor unmanageable $ for on the mansuetude of the crea¬
ture which he rides, not only his safety, but his con¬
fidence, will entirely depend. In these expeditions,
whether long or short, his companion or attendant ought
constantly to be with him; and the horse should always
either be taught implicitly to follow its guide, or be
conducted by a leading rein besides the bridle which
he himself holds. Next to this mode of exercise, is
walking. If the constitution of the blind boy be to¬
lerably robust, let him he taught to endure every vicis¬
situde of weather which the human species can bear with
impunity. For if he has been bred with too much de¬
licacy, particular accidents may supersede all bis for¬
mer scruples, and subject him to the necessity of suffer¬
ing what will not only he severe in its immediate sen¬
sation, but dangerous in its future consequences. Yet,
when the cold is so intense, or the elements so tempestu¬
ous, as to render air and exercise abroad impracticable,
there are methods of domestic exercise, which, though
not equally salutary, may still be eligible; such as dumb¬
bells, or the bath chair. The first of these are made of
lead, consisting of a cylinder, the middle of which may
either be rectilineal or arcuated for the conveniency of
holding, and terminates at each end in a semiglobular
mass. Their weight must be conformed to the strength
and age of the person who uses them. The method of
employing them is to take one in each hand, and swing
them backwards and forwards over his head describ¬
ing a figure somewhat like a parabola. This not only
strengthens the arms, and opens the chest, but pro¬
motes the circulation of the fluids. The hath chair is
a deal of 12 feet in length, as free from knots and as
elastic as possible, supported by a fulcrum at each end,
upon which may be placed two rolling cylinders to
give it greater play ; when seated upon this, by alter¬
nately depressing it with his own weight, and suffering
it to return to its natural situation, he gives himself a
motion, though not equal in its energy, yet somewhat
resembling the trot of a horse. There are other elastic
seats of the same kind constructed with steel springs,
hut one of this simple fabrication may answer the pur¬
pose.
The spring-deal here recommended by the author,
was preferred, as being suitable to the blind in all
t 724 ]
B L I
Blind,
spheres or conditions of life ; but he has since been
taught by experience, in a valetudinary state, that the
elastic chair is of infinitely greater utility. It consists
of three false bottoms, and one real, which is the basis
of the whole. The lowest is by far the most extensive.
The highest is stuffed to render it an easy seat, and
covered with plush, baize, or duffle. Between each of
the false bottoms, at either end, behind and before,
are placed steel springs, fixed above and below to the
boards ; not with nails, but staples, and curved in a
spiral or serpentine form, each consisting of seven spires
or volumina. The volumina are formed in such a man¬
ner, that one of them can pass through another, and
thus give the springs full play in rising or descending.
The lowest bottom or basis of the whole is protended
about four inches; which assists you to mount the seat
with more facility, and serves as a support for your feet
when you ride. This operation is performed by alter¬
nately depressing or raising yourself upon the seat, so
that the springs yielding to your weight as you de¬
scend, and resisting as you rise, may give you a motion
like that of the deal above described, but more violent,
more rapid, and consequently more salutary. The
whole frame of the seat is surrounded with leather,
having different apertures to admit or reject the air oc¬
casioned by the motion. These general hints are suf¬
ficient to give any ingenious artisan an idea of the na¬
ture and structure of the machine, which he may alter
or improve as conveniency shall dictate.
To these modes of domestic exercise may be added
that of a swing, which is formed by a rope suspended
from two screws, which ought to be strongly fixed, at
proper distances, in the joists of a capacious chamber,
with a board and a cushion for a seat, and cords fasten¬
ed behind and before, lest the impetuosity of the mo¬
tion should shake the patient out of his position. But
this instrument of health is so often formed by children,
for their amusement, and depends so much upon the
form and extent of the area where it vibrates, that a
more minute detail of its nature and office would here
be unnecessary.
His meals should be temperate, his diet light and Diet,
of easy digestion. If the tone of his stomach be vi¬
gorous, vegetables should be preferred to animal food,
particularly those vegetables which are most farinaceous
and least acescent. Fermented liquors and ardent spi¬
rits should never be given him but to gratify the real
demands of exhausted nature ; for though they exhi¬
larate the spirits, they at the same time corrode the
vessels and relax the nerves ; a misfortune doubly per¬
nicious to sedentary life. The safest and most whole¬
some beverages are milk and water. If he should be
tired with these, he may be indulged with the variety
of chocolate, halm, sage, or ground ivy. Coffee may
sometimes be taken with impunity ; but tea should be
interdicted with inflexible severity ; for no vegetable
juice under heaven is more noxious to sedentary peo¬
ple. Let him also, for similar reasons, be prohibited
the use of tobacco in all its forms. In the obser¬
vations of diet and exercise, let him neither be me¬
chanically regular, nor entirely eccentric. In the
one case, he will be a slave to habit, which may
create some inconvenience ; in the other, he will form
no habits at all, which may still be productive of
greater.
We
B L I [ 7
Blind. have more than once hinted, during the course
——v ■■■■■" •' of this article, that the blind, as liable to all the incon-
3° _ veniences of sedentary life, are peculiarly subjected
ow *pi- t!,at disorder which may be called tcedium vitce or
low spirits. This indisposition may be said to com¬
prehend in it all the other diseases and evils of human
life ; because, by its immediate influence on the mind,
it aggravates the weight and bitterness of every cala¬
mity to which we are obnoxious. In a private letter,
we have heard it described as a formidable precipice,
in the regions of misery, between the awful gulfs of
suicide on the one hand and phrenzy on the other ;
into either of which, a gentle breeze, according to the
force of its impulse and the line of its direction, may
irrecoverably plunge the unhappy victim ; yet from
both of which he may providentially escape. Though
the shades of the metaphor may, perhaps, be unnatu¬
rally deepened, yet those who have felt the force of
the malady will not fail to represent it by the most
dreadful images which its own feelings can suggest.
Parents and tutors therefore, if they have the least pre¬
tence to conscience or humanity, cannot be too care¬
ful in observing and obviating the first symptoms of
this impending plague. If the limbs of your blind
child or pupil be tremulous ; if he is apt to start, and
easily susceptible of surprise ; if he finds it difficult to
sleep; if his slumbers, when commenced, are frequent¬
ly interrupted, and attended with perturbation ; if his
ordinary exercises appear to him more terrible and
more insuperable than usual ; if his appetite become
languid and his digestion slow ; if agreeable occur¬
rences give him less pleasure, and adverse events more
pain than they ought to inspire :—this is the crisis of
vigorous interposition. The regimen and exercise a-
bove prescribed are the best preventives of this evil,
and perhaps its best remedies when unhappily incux--
red. But if the symptoms should escape your atten¬
tion till the patient is actually seized with the distem¬
per, you may then, according to its depth and perma¬
nency, apply the cold bath, vitriolic acid, and Peruvi¬
an bark. Magnesia alba will, from time to time, he
found useful to lenify the severe and corrosive acid,
generated in the stomach ; it is preferable to chalk, to
crabs eyes, or any of the other absorbents, because
of its laxative tendency. The tincture or infusion of
wild valerian, pills of asafoetida, and white mustard-
seed, are likewise prescribed. Care should be taken
that the patient may never be suffered to remain co¬
stive, otherwise the function of digestion will be impe¬
ded. Gentle cathartics should therefore he administer¬
ed ; but with caution, that their operation may clear
the bowels without weakening nature. Emetics may
sometimes give the patient a temporary relief, by ex¬
erting and bracing the fibres of the stomach ; but if
used too frequently, they will have a contrary effect :
previous to the use of hark, however, they should al¬
ways be taken to prepare the vessel for its reception.
The symptoms above enumerated would seem to indi¬
cate the origin of the distemper from extreme weak¬
ness or relaxation of nerves : that relaxation may be
caused by severe ami intemperate thought; by supine
indolence ; by excessive or habitual drinking ; and above
all, by venereal gratifications prematurely and frequent¬
ly indulged, by which the approaches of this evil are
accelerated, its continuance insured, and its poignancy
5 ] B L I
augmented. Parents and tutors, therefore, as they Blind,
value the welfare of their charge, and would answer 1 ■ 1 v
to God for their conduct, should be scrupulously care¬
ful to observe when any of these illegitimate propensi¬
ties inflame the youthful mind, to check, or rather
elude them ; not so much by severe reprehension and
solemn interdict, as by endeavouring to preoccupy the
soul, and engage the attention with other favourite a-
musements. Against every act of arbitrary power, the
mind strongly and naturally revolts. She should there¬
fore be rather allured to wisdom and virtue, by rational
motives and gentle methods, than by cruel menaces
and stern commands. Those who are afflicted with
low spirits may be said to be doubly unfortunate ; for
they have not only their own internal sufferings to su¬
stain, but the contempt and ridicule of a thoughtless
and unfeeling world, by whom their complaints are
thought to be imaginary, and their depression affected.
Should the sarcastic or sceptical reader apologize for
his want of humanity, by asking in what these inter¬
nal sufferings consist, it will be easy to give him a clear
and solid answer : They arise from a severe and acute
feeling of nature’s incapacity to discharge the vital
functions with tolerable ease ; from the sharp and con¬
stant irritation inflicted on the stomach and lower in¬
testines by every thing’ not sweet or insipid that passes
th rough them ; and from a degree of sensibility too
exquisite for the precarious and fluctuating state of our
nature: these are the vindictive, inexorable demons
that arm every thought with the stings of scorpions,
and render the sense of existence itself insupportable.
We have heard of hypochondriacs who thought them¬
selves made of glass ; and of others who believed their
pe rsons grown to a size so enormous, that they could
not enter into any door: but it has never been our for¬
tune to be personally acquainted with any of these fan¬
tasies. Those with whom we have conversed were
rather inclined to exaggerate real, than to create ima¬
ginary, evils ; rather to anticipate gloomy possibilities,
than to dwell upon improbable or chimerical cata¬
strophes : the tender parent, therefore, or the faithful
guardian, will beware of treating them with neglect or
levity. Pie will suit his conversation, as much as pos¬
sible, to the present tone of their feelings ; he will avoid
all innovations in their management, except such as are
absolutely necessary for their cure.
Be careful never to reason or expostulate with your
patient on the nature of his malady. Tell him not
that his uneasy feelings, far from being real, are the
fictitious impositions of a depraved fancy. His dis¬
agreeable sensations will be more than sufficient to de¬
monstrate the falsehood of your assertions : thus your
argumentative and persuasive powers will not only be
exerted in vain, but may considerably retard, if not
finally prevent, his recovery ; and may leave such in¬
delible prepossessions against yon, in bis mind, as no
length of time, no vicissitudes of life, will ever be able
to efface. Opium has also been recommended ; but,
excepting desperate cases, it will be found a fallacious
and dangerous remedy :—fallacious, because the ease
it gives is only temporary, and infallibly succeeded by
sharper paroxysms :—dangerous, because it mav be
rendered habitual, and subject the patient to unmixed
torment when omitted. Though we have already in?
culcated a regimen and exercise which appeared pro¬
per
Blind, per for the Wind in general, and not incompatible with
—v- peculiar situations, it still seems necessary to add a
few results of painful experience upon these subjects,
as being particularly conducive to the present ease and
future amendment of such as labour under the diseases
now in question. And first, let it be observed, that
animal food is their proper nutriment, as being of ea¬
siest digestion ; better too, if well done upon the spit
or gridiron : for instead of being allowed to imbibe
adventitious fluids, it should be as much as possible
drained of its own; neither should it be too fat : beef,
mutton, or fowls arrived at maturity, give the stomach
least labour ; veal, lamb, chickens, and every other
kind of young meat, answer the purposes of nature
with more difficulty, as the parts are not only too suc¬
culent, but prevented by their softness and lubricity
from acting forcibly one upon another to facilitate the
efforts of the stomach in digestion. Of all vegetable
substances, white bread is perhaps the only ingredient
which they can eat rvith the greatest impunity j and
even this would still be safer were the paste formed
with as little water as possible, and prepared without
fermentation. Whether eggs are vegetable or animal
substances, let physicians determine } but this we know,
that by people in low spirits they may be eaten, even
at supper, with great impunity. Every other herb or
root is not only extremely flatulent, but productive of
that sharp and intense acid for which we have former¬
ly prescribed magnesia as the best remedy. Patients
of this description should rather be frequent than li¬
beral in their meals, and scrupulously careful of all
heterogeneous mixture. Their most eligible beverage
except simple water, if they can afford it, is port-
wine, as being least convertible into that poignant
fluid : porter likewise, if not stale, may, by its strength
and bitterness, assist the action of the stomach. Nei¬
ther of these fermented liquors should be taken in large
quantities at once : let the clamours of nature be satis¬
fied, and no more ; for if the spirits are unnaturally
elated, they will be certain to sink proportionably when
the stimulus ceases to operate. The moderate use of
genuine rum or brandy, properly diluted, when the
other liquors cannot be had, may be productive of
good effects, but should never be used at or near na¬
tural periods of repose j because, even when diluted,
they occasion a febricity or pyrexia, incompatible with
sound and refreshing sleep. Care should likewise be
taken that the patient may never be too much warm¬
ed, either by clothes or exercise, especially when in
bed. Exertions of body, particularly in the open air,
are indispensably necessary for promoting digestion
and acquiring strength ; but should never be carried to
fatigue. The mind should likewise be diverted from
attention to itself and its disorder, by reading and
conversation. But there is an uncommon degree of
discernment and delicacy requisite in the topics, that
they may neither be too cheerful nor too serious, for
the state of the mind, when they are applied. Neither
let these injunctions be esteemed trivial : such little at¬
tentions, uniformly and tenderly exerted for their sa¬
tisfaction, will contribute in no small degree to their
present tranquillity, and of consequence to their fu-
ture restoration. We have thought it necessary to v——y-w
expatiate thus far, on a subject gloomy and forbidding
in itself, but of sufficient importance to demand par¬
ticular attention •, and, besides, what we have said mav
not only be useful to the blind in particular, but ap¬
plicable to all those who labour under the same depres¬
sion. It only remains to add, that the order, the pe¬
riods, and the quantities, in which the remedies above
enumerated should be applied, must be determined by
wisdom and experience, or regulated by the advice of
a skilful and vigilant physician. We are sorx-y that
truth obliges us to acknowledge, that we have found
the faculty less intelligent in this disease, and less at¬
tentive to its various aspects, than could be wished, or
than its malignity requires.
The natural curiosity of children renders them ex- Natural
tremely and indefatigably inquisitive. This disposition curiosity to
is often peculiarly prevalent in the blind. Parents and be gratified
tutors, therefore, should gratify it whenever their an-
swers can be intelligible to the pupil; when it is other- otherwise'
wise, let them candidly confess the impossibility or im-a reason to
propriety of answering bis questions. At this period, be given,
if their hearts he tender and their powers inventive,
they may render his amusements the vehicles, and his
toys the instruments, of improvement : why, for in¬
stance, may not the centrifugal and centripetal forces
be illustrated from the motion of a top, or the nature
and power of elasticity by the rebound of a ball ? These
hints may lead to others, which, if happily improved
and applied, may wonderfully facilitate the progress of
knowledge. Nor will the violence of exercise, and
the tumult of play, be productive of such perils and ac¬
cidents as may be apprehended.
For the encouragement of such parents as choose
to take these advices with regard to exercise, let us
inform them, that though, till the age of twenty,
some blind persons were on most occasions permit¬
ted to walk, to run, to play at large, they have yet
escaped without any corporeal injury from these ex¬
cursions.
Parents of middle, or of higher rank, who are so TheVlind
unfortunate as to have blind children, ought, by all not to be
possible means, to keep them out of vulgar company. |n(3ulge<}
The herd of mankind have a wanton malignity, which111 promlS’
eternally impels them to impose upon the blind, andpanv,
to enjoy the painful situation in which these impo¬
sitions place them. This is a stricture upon the hu¬
manity of our species, which nothing but the love of
truth and the dictates of benevolence could have ex¬
torted from us. But we (f) have known some who
have suffered so much from this diabolical mirth in their
own persons, that it is natural for us, by all the means
in our power, to prevent others from becoming its vic¬
tims.
Blind people have infinitely more to fear from the
levity and ignorance, than from the selfishness and ill-
nature, of mankind. In serious and important nego-
ciations, pride and compassion suspend the efforts of
knavery or spleen $ and that very infirmity, which so
frequently renders the blind defenceless to the arts of
the
(f) The author of these observations, though he chooses to express himself in this manner, is blind.
B L I
id spec¬
ie found-
« in na<
*re.
B ind, tlie Insulions, or to the attempts of malice, is a powerful
"’’■■v-' incentive to pity, which is capable of disarming fury it¬
self. Villany, which frequently piques itself more up¬
on the arts by which it prevails, than upon the advan¬
tages which it obtains, may often with contempt reject
the blind, as subjects beneath the dignity of its opera¬
tion } but the ill natured buffoon considers the roost ma¬
licious effects of his merriment as a mere jest, without
reflecting on the shame or indignation which they in-
32 spire when inflicted on a sensible temper.
Ijey must JBut vulgar credulity and ignorance are no less dan-
"itei t>er" £eroUS to t*10Se w*10 want sight, than the false and me-
larmar- c^anica^ 80 universally practised in common life,
•jllous and know* we sympathetically feel, the strong propen-
Ightful sity of every illiterate mind, to relate or to believe what-
ties. ever is marvellous and dreadful. These impressions,
when early imbibed, can scarcely be eradicated by all
"ie also- ^ie conspirin£ efforts of mature i-eason and confirmed
cition be- experience. Those philosophers who have attempted
teen to break the alliance between darkness and spectres,
drkness were certainly inspired by laudable motives. But they
must give us leave to assert, that there is a natural and
essential connection betwixt night and orcus. Were
we endued with senses to advertise us of every noxious
object before its contiguity could render it formidable,
our panics would probably be less frequent and sensible
than we really feel them. Darkness and silence, there¬
fore, have something dreadful in them, because they
supersede the vigilance of those senses which give us
the earliest notices of things. If you talk to a blind
boy of invisible beings, let benevolence be an insepara¬
ble ingredient in their character. You may, if you
please, tell him of departed spirits, anxious for the wel¬
fare of their surviving friends; of ministering angels, who
descend with pleasure from heaven to execute the pur¬
poses of their Maker’s benignity ; you may even regale
his imagination with the sportive gambols and innocent
frolics of fairies ; but let him hear as seldom as possible,
even in stories which he knows to be fabulous, of vin¬
dictive ghosts, vindictive fiends, or avenging furies.
They seize and pre-occupy every avenue of terror
which is open in the soul $ nor are they easily dispos¬
sessed. Sooner should we hope to exorcise a ghost,
or appease a fury, than to obliterate their images in a
warm and susceptible imagination, where they have
been habitually impressed, and where these feelings
cannot be dissipated by external phenomena. If hor¬
rors of this kind should agitate the heart of a blind
tid of dis-boy, which may happen notwithstanding the most
s. uing the strenuous endeavours to prevent it, the stories which
y j01 t^ie ^ie has liea,-d will be most effectually discredited by ri¬
dicule. This, however, must be cautiously applied, by
gentle and delicate gradations. If he is inspired with
terror by effects upon his senses, the causes of which
he cannot investigate, indefatigable pains must be taken
to explain these phenomena, and to confirm that expli¬
cation, whenever it can be done, by the testimony of
[ 727 ]
B L I
35
e me-
his own senses, and his own experience. The exertion Blind,
ol his locomotive and mechanical powers (the rights of—y——>
which we have formerly endeavoured to assert) will sen¬
sibly contribute to dispel these terrors. ^
His inventive faculties ought likewise to be indulged The inven-
with the same freedom. The data which they explore tl°11 of the
may be presented in such a manner, as to render dis-
coveries easy: but still let invention be allowed to co-but neither
operate. The internal triumph and exultation which anticipated
the mind feels from the attainment and conviction ofnot check-
new truths heighten their charms, impress them deep'1**
on the memory, and give them an influence in prac¬
tice of which they could not otherwise have boast¬
ed.
There are a sort of people in the world, whose views
and education have been strictly confined to one pro¬
vince, and whose conversation is of consequence limited
and technical. These, in literary intercourse, or fa¬
shionable life, are treated with universal contempt, and
branded with the odious name of mere men of business*
Nor is it any wonder that the conversation of sucli
should prove nauseous and disgusting. It would be arro¬
gance in them to expect, that indifferent persons should
either enter into their private interests, or the peculia¬
rities of their craft, with a warmth equal to their own.
We have known the intrusion of such a person involve
a numerous company in gloom, and terminate the free¬
dom and vivacity of agreeable discourse in lazy yawn¬
ing and discontented silence. Of all innocent charac¬
ters, this ought to be avoided by the blind 5 because of
all others, it is the character which they run the great¬
est hazard of adopting. The limitation of their powers
naturally contracts their views and pursuits, and, as it
were, concentrates their whole intellectual faculties in
one, or at best in few objects. Care should therefore
be taken to afford the mind a theatre for its exertions,
as extensive as possible, without diverting it from one
great end, which, in order to excel, it ought for ever
to have in prospect.
There are few sciences in which the blind have not The man-
distinguished themselves : even those whose acquisition ne.rs ot
seemed essentially to depend upon vision, have at lastb^n^'
yielded to genius and industry, though deprived of that
advantage. Mr Saunderson, whom we formerly men¬
tioned, has left behind him the most striking evidences
of astonishing proficiency in those retired and abstract
branches of mathematics which appeai’ed least accessible
to persons of his infirmity. Sculpture (g) and painting
are not, perhaps, the most practicable arts for a blind
man : yet he is not excluded from the pleasing creation
and extensive regions of fancy. However unaccount¬
able it may appear to the abstract philosophers, yet no¬
thing is more certain in fact, than that a blind man
may, by the inspiration of the muses, or, to strip the
figure of its mythological dress, may, by the efforts of
a cultivated genius, exhibit in poetry the most natural
images and animated descriptions, even of visible ob¬
jects,
(g) Yet there are instances of persons who have been enabled to take the figure and idea of a face by the
touch, and mould it in wax with the utmost exactness ; as was the case of the blind sculptor mentioned by
De Piles, who thus took the likeness of the duke de Bracciano in a dark cellar, and made a marble statue
ot King Charles I. with great elegance and justness. Vid. De Piles Corns de Feint, p, 329. and Wolf. Psvchoh
Kat. § 162.
B L I [ 728 ] B L I
Blind, jects, without either incurring or deserving the imputa-
—tion of plagiarism.
In the sister art of music, there are, at present, living
and noble instances how far the blind may proceed.
If we look into former periods, we shall find illu¬
strious and pregnant examples, how amply nature has
capacitated the blind to excel both in the scientific and
practical departments of music. In the 16th century,
when the progress of improvement both in melody and
harmony was rapid and conspicuous, Franciscus Sali¬
nas was eminently distinguished. He was born A. D.
I5I3> at Burgos in Spain ; and was son to the treasurer
of that city. Though afflicted with incurable blindness,
he was profounc.ly skilled both in the theory and prac¬
tice of music. As a performer, he is celebrated by his
cotemporaries with the highest encomiums. As a theo¬
rist, his book, if we may believe Sir John Hawkins, is
equal in value to any now extant in any language.
Though he was deprived of sight in his earliest infan¬
cy, he does not content himself to delineate the vari¬
ous phenomena in music, but the principles from
whence they result, the relations of sound, the nature
of arithmetical, geometrical, and harmonica! ratios,
which at that period were esteemed essential to the
theory of music, with a degree of intelligence which
would have deserved admiration though he had been
in full possession of every sense requisite for these dis¬
quisitions. Fie was taken to Rome in the retinue of
Petrus Sarmentus archbishop of Compostella; and hav¬
ing passed twenty years in Italy, he returned to Sala¬
manca, where he obtained the professorship of music,
an office at that time equally respectable and lucra¬
tive. Having discharged it with reputation and suc¬
cess for some time, he died at the venerable age of
77-
In the same period flourished Caspar Crumbhorn,
blind from the third year of his age: yet he compo¬
sed several pieces in many parts with so much success,
and performed both upon the flute and violin so exqui¬
sitely, that he was distinguished by Augustus elector
of Saxony. But preferring his native Silesia to every
other country, he returned thither, and-was appoint¬
ed organist of the church of St Peter and Paul in
the city of Lignitz, where he likewise had often the
direction of the musical college, and died June 11.
1621.
10 these might be added Martini Pesenti of Ve¬
nice, a composer of vocal and instrumental music al¬
most of all kinds, though blind from his nativity j with
other examples equally worthy of public attention.
But if vulgar prejudice is capable of blushing at its own
contemptible character, or of yielding to conviction,
those already quoted are more than sufficient to show
the musical jugglers of our time, who are generally as
absolute strangers to learning and taste as to virtue,
that their art is no monopoly with which those a-
lone who see are invested by the irreversible decree of
heaven.
For Saunderson’s method of calculation, both in a-
rithmetic and algebra, see the account prefixed to his
own treatise on that subject. But there is a much ful¬
ler and more circumstantial detail both of its nature and
its various uses, given by M. Diderot in his “ Letter
concerning the Blind, for the use of those who see,”
which we shall here translate.
3 .
“ It is much easier (says that author) to use signs Bijn(j
already invented, than to become their inventor ; as one v—v-Lj
is forced to do, when engaged in circumstances for 3s
which he is not provided. Of what advantage might San,n^er'
not this be to Saunderson to find a palpable arithmetic0f
already prepared for him at five years of age, which he
might have otherwise felt the necessity of inventing
for himself at the advanced period of twenty-five ! This
Saunderson, Madam, is an author deprived of sight,
with whom it may not be foreign to our purpose to a-
muse you. They relate prodigies of him ; and of these
prodigies there is not one, which his progress in the
belles lettres, and his mathematical attainments-, do not
render credible.
“ The same instrument served him for algebraical
calculations, and for the construction of rectilineal fi--
gures. You would not perhaps be sorry that I should
give you an explanation of it, if you thought your mind
previously qualified to understand it: and you shall
soon perceive that it presupposes no intellectual prepa¬
rations of which you are not already mistress : and that
it would be extremely useful to you if you should ever
be seized with the inclination of making long calcula¬
tions by touch.
“ Imagine to yourself a square, such as you see
fig. I. divided into four equal parts by perpendicu- ^
lar lines at the sides, in such a manner, that it may
present you the nine points I, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.
Suppose this square pierced with nine holes capable of
receiving pins of two kinds, all of equal length and
thickness, but some with heads a little larger than the
others.
“ The pins with large heads are never placed any¬
where else but in the centre of the square ; those with
smaller heads never but at the sides, except in one single
case, which is that of making the figure 1, where none
are placed at the sides. The sign of o is made by
placing a pin with a large head in the centre of the
little square, without putting any other pin at the side*.* seefig, j.
The number I is represented by a pin with a small
head placed in the centre of the square, without put¬
ting any other pin at the sides ; the number 2, by a pin
with a large head placed in the centre of the square,
and by a pin with a small head placed on one of
the sides at the point 1 : the number 3, by a pin with
a large head placed in the centre of the square, and by
a pin with a small head placed on one of the sides at
the point 2 : the number 4, by a pin with a large head
placed in the centre of the square, and by a pin w-ith
a small head placed on one of the sides at the point 3 :
the number 5, by a pin with a large head placed in the
centre of the square, and by a pin with a small head
placed on one of the sides at the point 4 : the number
6, by a pin with a large head placed in the centre of the
square, and by a pin with a small head placed on one
ot the sides at the point 5 : the number 7, by a pin
with a large head placed in the centre of the square,
and by a pin with a small head placed on one of the
sides at the point 6 : the number 8, by a pin with a
large head placed in the centre of the square, and by
a pin with a small head placed on one of the sides at
the point 7 : the number 9, by a pin with a large
head placed in the centre of the square, and by a pin
with a small head placed on one of the sides at the
point 8.
“ Here
B - L I [ 729 ]
Blind. •“ Here are plainly ten different expressions obvious imagined,
i'—v'—-'' to the touch, of’ which every one answers to one of our
ten arithmetical characters. Imagine now a table as
large as you please, divided into small squares, horizon¬
tally ranged, and separated one from the other at simi
B L I
by the exactness and promptitude with
which he prepared his instruments and disposed his
Blind.
41
lar distances, as you see it in fig. 3. Thus you will
,9 have the instrument of Saunderson.
liis nota- “ You may easily conceive that there is not any
tnapplied number which one cannot express upon this table;
and, by consequence, no arithmetical operation which
one cannot execute upon it.
“ Let it be proposed, for instance, to find the sum, or
to work the addition of the nine numbers following.
P instrument.
tnumeri-
ql opera¬
te! s.
40
“ I express them on the table in the order as they are
dictated to me ; the first figure at the left of the first
number, upon the first square to the left of the first line ;
the second figure to the left of the first number, upon
the second square to the left of the same line ; and so of
the rest.
“ I place the second number upon the second row of
squares, units beneath units, and tens beneath tens, &c.
“ I place the third number upon the third row of
squares, and so of the rest. Then with my fingers run¬
ning over each of the rows vertically from the bottom to
the top, beginning with that which is nearest, to my
right, 1 work the addition of the numbers which are ex¬
pressed, and mark the surplus of the tens at the foot of
that column. I then pass to the second column, advan¬
cing towards the left; upon which I operate in the
same manner ; from thence to the third ; and thus in
succession I finish my addition.
lile same “ We shall now see how the same table served him
rument for demonstrating the properties of rectilineal figures.
,a lllC(i t0 Let us suppose this proposition to be demonstrated,
aictioii ofT1>at Parilfiel0gi’anis which have the same basis and the
idtilineal same height are equal in their surfaces. He placed
S||res. his pins as may be seen in fig. 4. He gave names to the
angular points, and finished his demonstration with his
fingers.
“ If we suppose that Saunderson only employed pins
w'ith large heads to mark the limits of his figures, a-
round these he might arrange his pins with small heads
in nine different manners, all of which were familiar
to him. Ihus he scarcely found any embarrassment
but in those cases where the great number of angular
points which he was under a necessity of naming in his
demonstration obliged him to recur to the letters of
the alphabet. We are not informed how he employed
them.
“ We only know that his fingers ran over the
board with astonishing agility; that he undertook
with success the longest calculations ; that he could in¬
terrupt the series, and discover his mistakes ; that he
proved them with the greatest ease ; and that his la¬
bours required infinitely less time than one could have
Vol. III. Part II. • t
table.
“ This preparation consisted in placing pins with Prepara-
large heads in the centres of all the squares: having flon of t*ie
done this, no more remained to him than to fix their'
values by pins of smaller heads, except in cases where
it was necessary to mark a unit; then he placed in the
centre of a square a pin with a small head, in the place
of a pin with a large head with which it had been oc¬
cupied.
“ Sometimes, instead of forming an entire line with
these pins, he contented himself with placing some
ol them at all the angular points, or points of inter¬
section ; around which he tied silk threads, which fi¬
nished the formation of the limits of his figures.” See
fig. 4.
It may be added by way of improvement, that for
the division of one series of numbers from another, a
thin piece of timber in the form of a ruler with which
lines are drawn, having a pin at each end for the holes
in the squares, might be interposed between the two
series to be distinguished.
This geometrician left other instruments behind him ;
hut as we do not know their uses, we need not add their
descriptions.
It must be owned, that by the notation here exhibit¬
ed, every modification of number may be expressed, and
of consequence every arithmetical operation successfully
performed; but we have been recently favoured with
another form of palpable arithmetic, which appears to
us equally comprehensive and much more simple than
that of Saunderson. It was originally invented, and is
still used in calculation, by Hr Henry Moyes; a gen¬
tleman whom we had formerly occasion to mention with
merited applause in this article, and whose character
and attainments we have endeavoured more fully to il¬
lustrate than had been done in the former edition, as
well from personal knowledge as from the anecdotes of
Hr Bew, as the most eligible introduction to the account
of his notation, given in the words of his own letter, and
exemplified in a figure copied from a drawing directed
by himself.
“ To the Editor of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.
“ Sir, In compliance with your request, I send you Xh- Moyes’s
the following brief account of a palpable notation form of a
which I have generally used for these 20 years to assist
my memory in numerical computations. When I be¬
gan to study the principles of arithmetic, which I did
at an early period of life, I soon discovered, to my mor¬
tification, that a person entirely deprived of sight could
scarcely proceed in that useful science without the aid
of palpable symbols representing the ten numerical
characters. Being at that time unacquainted with the
writings of Saunderson, in which a palpable notation is
described, I embraced the obvious, though, as I after¬
wards found, imperfect expedient of cutting into the
form of the numerical characters thin pieces of wood
or metal. By arranging these on the surface of a
board, I could readily represent any given number,
not only to the touch, but also to the eye ; and by-
covering the board with a lamina of wax, my symbols
were prevented from changing their places, they ad¬
hering to the hoard from the slightest pressure. By this
4 Z contrivance,
notation.
B L I [ 730 ] B L I
Blind, contrivance, I could solve, though slowly, any pro~
—v——blem in the science of numbers j but it soon occurred
to me, that my notation, consisting of ten species of
symbols or characters, was much more complicated than
was absolutely necessary, and that any given number
might be distinctly expressed by three species of pegs
alone. To illustrate my meaning, let A, B, C, D,
(fig* 5-)» represent a square piece of mahogany a foot
broad and an inch in thickness ; let the sides AB,
BC, CD, DA, be each divided into 24 equal parts j
let every two opposite divisions be joined by a groove
cut in the board sufficiently deep to be felt with the fin¬
ger, and let the board be perforated at each intersec¬
tion with an instrument a tenth of an inch in diame¬
ter.
“ The surface of the board being thus divided into
5/6 little squares, with a small perforation at each of
their angles, let three sets of pegs or pins, resembling
those represented in the plate at the figures 6, 7, 8,
be so fitted to the holes in the board, that when stuck
into them they may keep their positions like those of
a fiddle, and require some force to turn them round.
The head of each peg belonging to the first set is a
right-angled triangle about one-tenth of an inch in
thickness ; the head of each peg belonging to the se¬
cond set differs only from the former in having a small
notch in its sloping side or hypothenuse j and the head
of each peg belonging to the third set is a square, of
which the breadth should be equal to the base of the
triangle of the other two. These pegs should be kept
in a case consisting of three boxes or cells, each cell
being allotted to a set, and the case must be placed
close by the board previous to the commencement of
every operation. Each set should consist of 60 or 70
pegs (at least when employed in lohg calculations) $
and when the work is finished, they should be collected
from the board and carefully restored to their respec¬
tive boxes.
“ Things being thus prepared, let a peg of the first
set be fixed into the board, and it will acquire four
different values according to its position respecting the
calculator. When its sloping side is turned towards
the left, it denotes one, or the first digit; when turn¬
ed upwards, or from the calculator, it denotes two, or
the second digit; when turned to the right, it repre¬
sents three ; and when turned downwards, or towards
the calculator, it denotes four, or the fourth digit.
jFive is denoted by a peg of the second set, having its
sloping side or hypothenuse turned to the left ; six, by
the same turned upwards ; seven, by the same turned
to the right *, and eight, by the same turned directly
down, or towards the body of the calculator. Nine
is expressed by a peg of the third set when its edges
are directed to right and left ; and the same peg ex¬
presses the cypher when its edges are directed up and
down. By three different pegs the relative values of
4he ten digits may therefore be distinctly expressed with
&cility ; and by a sufficient number of each set, the
steps and result of the longest calculation may be clear¬
ly represented to the sense of feeling. It seems unne¬
cessary to illustrate this by an example ; suffice it to
express in our characters the present year of the Chri¬
stian era 1788 : Take a peg of the first set, and fix
it in the board with its sloping side turned towards the
’eft* equal to one j take now a peg of the second set
3
and fix it in the next hole in the same groove, proceed- r,i-
ingas usual from left to right, with its sloping side turn- ■ ‘n *_
ed to the right, equal to 7 j next take a peg of the
same set, and fix it in the next hole, with its sloping side
turned downwards, equal to 8; lastly, take another peg
of the same set, and place it in the next hole in the same
position, equal to 8 j and the whole will express the
number required.
“ When it is necessary to express a vulgar fraction,
I place the numerator in the groove immediately above,
and the denominator in that immediately below the
groove in which the integers stand ; and in decimal
arithmetic an empty hole in the integer groove repre¬
sents the comma or decimal point. By similar breaks
I also denote pounds, shillings, pence, &c. and by the
same expedient I separate in division the divisor and
quotient from the dividend.
“ This notation, which supplies me completely
with coefficients and indices in algebra and fluxions,
seems much superior to any of the kind hitherto made
public in the west of Europe. That invented and de¬
scribed by Mr Grenville, having no less than ten sets
of pegs, is by much too complicated for general prac¬
tice $ and that which we owe to the celebrated Saun-
derson is apt to puzzle and embarrass the calculator,
as the pegs representing the numerical digits can sel¬
dom or never be in the same straight line. If you
agree witli me that the above notation may promote
the knowledge, and therefore the happiness, of per¬
sons denied the benefit of sight, you have my consent
to give it a place in the present edition of your valu¬
able work. I am, Sir, with respect, your obedient
servant, Henry Moyes.”
We have seen the machine above mentioned, which
was exhibited to the society for the improvement of
polite arts, &c. by Mr Grenville, who is himself also
deprived of sight. But though this has met with the
approbation of Mr Stanley, we cannot forbear to think
it less simple in its structure than that of Dr Moyes’s,
more multiform in its apparatus, and of consequence
more laborious and complex in the process of its ope¬
ration ; for where every single peg has only one power,
and acquires no diversity of value from its position,
their forms must be indefinitely varied and their num¬
bers prodigiously multiplied ; which must cost both the
memory and judgment of the pupil numberless painful
and fatiguing exertions before he contracts a habit of
using the instrument with promptitude and success. On
these accounts, a particular description of it is omitted
in this place.
In the higher parts of mathematics, such as conic Ane^n)a.
sections, the same solid figures which are mediums ofthematical
perception to those who see, may perform the same instrument
useful office to the blind. But, for the structure 0fProP05£(1,
superficial figures, we should imagine, that a kind of
matter might Ire found soft enougli to be easily suscep¬
tible of impressions, yet hard enough to retain them
till effaced by an equal pressure. Suppose, for instance,
a table were formed, four feet broad and eight in length j
for the figures, that they may be the more sensible to
the touch, ought to he larger than ordinary. Suppose
this table had brims, or a moulding round it, rising
an inch above the surface: let the whole expanse, then,
be filled with bees-wax, and the surface above pressed
extremely
Blind.
B L I [ 73i ] B L I
extremely even with a polished board, formed exactly blind for their peculiar use.
Blind.
to fit the space within the mouldings. This board
will always be necessary to efface the figures employed
in former propositions, and prepare the surface for new
ones. We think we have pondered the minutest in¬
convenience that can arise from this method of deli¬
neating and conceiving geometrical truths j and, after
44 all, the table appears to us the best and the least trou-
(fcographi- blesome apparatus which a blind man can use. We
cl wistru- call see uo reason wby general ideas of geography or
psed foi° 'topography might not be conveyed to him in the same
te blind, manner, by spheres composed of or covered with the
same impressible matter.
Such were the mediums that occurred to the author,
when this article was originally written, for conveying
to persons deprived of sight those remote and compli¬
cated truths which vision alone was thought capable
of representing; but a work has lately been published
4- at Paris which supersedes every former attempt to pro-
Acount of mote or facilitate the improvement of the blind. The
■lew plan invention of a plan so arduous in its appearance and
(Uheim- so practjcable in its execution, demanded the highest
otl,e exertions ot the noblest genius to produce it, and the
bad. most strenuous efforts of indefatigable humanity to
render it effectual. It is entitled, “ An Essay on the
Education of the Blind.” Its object is to teach them,
by palpable characters impressed on paper, not only
the liberal arts and sciences, but likewise the principles
of mechanical operation, in such a manner, that those
who have no genius for literary improvement may yet
become respectable, useful, and independent members
of society, in the capacity of common artisans. By
these tangible signatures they are taught to read, to
write, and to print; they are likewise instructed in
geometry, in algebra, geography, and, in short, in
every branch of natural philosophy. Nor are their ef¬
forts circumscribed by mere utility ; a taste for the fine
arts has likewise been cultivated among them. They
have been taught to read music with their fingers as
others do with their eyes ; and though they cannot at
once feel the notes and perform them upon an instru¬
ment, yet are they capable of acquiring any lesson
with as much exactness and rapidity as those who en¬
joy all the advantages of light. But we shall give a
more particular account of the wonderful topics con¬
tained in this essay. In his first chapter, the author
discovers the end proposed by that delineation of cul¬
ture which he offers to the blind ; it is to enlarge their
sphere of knowledge, and of consequence to increase
their capacities and improve their powers of action, so
that they may become happy and independent in
themselves, and useful and agreeable to others. The
2d chapter contains an answer to the objections urged
against the general utility of this institution. These
objections are candidly stated, and answered in the
most satisfactory manner : but were we to recapitulate
them in detail, it would protract this article to a length
much beyond its due proportion, even upon the ex¬
tended plan of the Encyclopaedia. The 3d chapter
treats of reading as adapted to the practice of the blind.
The 4th chapter consists of answers to various objec¬
tions against the method of reading proposed for the
blind ; but these, for reasons formerly given, we can¬
not with propriety delineate in this article. In the jth
chapter is shown the art of printing as practised by the
45
In the 6th chapter is de¬
scribed the manner of teaching the blind the art of print- '•
ing for those that see. In the 7th is represented the man¬
ner of teaching the blind to write. The 8th chapter
explains the method of teaching the blind arithmetic ;
the 9th, geography; the icth, music. The nth,
contains an account of the mechanic arts in which the
blind are employed, and of the way by which they
are formed for such occupations. The 12th shows in
general the proper manner of instructing the blind,
and draws a parallel between their education and that
of the deaf and dumb. Chapter 13th treats of the me¬
thod of instructing them in the languages, mathema¬
tics, history, &c. What remains of the book is ta¬
ken up with notes which illustrate each particular
chapter ; a short historical account of the rise, the pro¬
gress, and the present state, of the academy for the
formation of the blind ; an ode on the cultivation of
the blind, by one that laboured under that affliction ;
an extract from the register of the royal academy of
sciences ; opinion of the printers ; models of the va¬
rious pieces which blind children are capable of print¬
ing ; and an account of the exercises performed by
blind children in presence of the king, queen, and
royal family, during the Christmas solemnities 1786.
Thus having given a cursory view of the various topics
contained in the essay, we proceed to give some ac¬
count of the. manner in which the blind print and write.
The blind compositor, then, has a box for every al-Printing
phabetical character in use ; on the outside of these|>er^,™e<*
boxes are palpably marked the peculiar character be-fjjjj^
longing to each ; they are filled with types, which he
chooses and sets as they are called for, but not in the
position in which they are to be read ; on the contrary,
they are inverted as objects are seen painted on the
retina of an eye by an optician. Having thus fixed
and arranged his types, he chooses a page of the
strongest paper that can be found, which he gently
moistens in a degree sufficient to render it more easily
susceptible of impressions, without being dilacerated
or worn by the shock which it must afterwards under¬
go. He then lays it upon the types ; and by the cau¬
tious operation of the press,' or by the easy strokes of
a little hammer, which are frequently repeated over
the whole "expanse, he causes the impression of the
type to rise on the opposite side of the paper, where,
when dry, it continues not only obvious to the sight
but tire touch, and is far from being easily effaced.
On the upper side of the paper, the letters appear in
their proper position, and their sensible elevation above
the common surface renders it practicable for the ^
blind to read them with their fingers. Their manner Their man-
of writing is analogous to this operation: the pupil, ner of writ-
by repeated experiments, having familiarised himselfin£’ ^cc’
to the forms of the letters, both in their inverted and
in their proper position, gradually learns to delineate
them upon paper, moistened as before, with the point
of an iron pen, which has no split, and which is just
sharp enough to impress without piercing the paper:
thus, on the side next to the writer’s hand, the letters
are formed sunk and inverted 5 but when the paper is
turned they appear right and in relievo. Thus the
blind are enabled to form and decypher, not only the
characters required in common language, but also ma¬
thematical diagrams, arithmetical and geographical
4 ^ 2 processes,
Blind.
48
The blind
B L I [ 7
processes, and all the characters used in the written
■J language of music. If this account should appear in¬
credible to any of our readers, let him be informed,
that the author of this article has conversed with two
gentlemen of learning and veracity who saw the blind
perform all the wonders here recapitulated with asto¬
nishing success, to the universal satisfaction of num¬
berless spectators whom curiosity and compassion im¬
pelled to visit the academy, that they might behold
with their own eyes a spectacle so interesting to huma¬
nity. Let the incredulous be also informed, that the
composer of the article has in his own hands a copy of
this work now reviewed, which is printed and bound by
the blind themselves. They exhibit at their own aca¬
demy every Wednesday and Saturday between one
and two o’clock at noon, to crowds of charitable ad¬
mirers, by whose liberal donations the institution is now’
chiefly supported.
The knowledge of astronomy might likewise be of
susceptible infinite use, both by enlarging the blind person’s ideas
of astrono- 0f the universe, and by giving him higher and more
confirmed impressions of that energy by which the
stars are moved, and of that design by which their
motions are regulated. But these objects are too
vast j their distances, their magnitudes, their periods
of revolution, are too complex to be apprehended in
the mind, or impressed in the memory, without sensi¬
ble mediums. lor this purpose, an orrery, or some
machine of a similar construction, will be indispensably
requisite.
Of natural The science of causes and effects might likewise yield
philosophy, him the most sublime and rational entertainment of
which an intelligent being, in his present state, is sus¬
ceptible. By this he might enter into the laws, the
vicissitudes, the economy of nature. Nor is it abso¬
lutely necessary that he should be an ocular witness
of the experiments by which these law's are <detected
and explained. He may safely take them for granted j
and if, at any time, a particular experiment should
prove faithless, he may, from general principles, be
able to discover its fallacy, whether in the nature of
the subject, the inaptitude of the instruments, or the
process of the execution. The laws of motion, the va¬
rious ratios or proportions of forces, whether simple or
compound, he may calculate and ascertain by the same
means and in the same method so happily used by Saun-
.derson.
Moral and theological knowledge he may easily ob¬
tain, either from books, or instructions delivered viva
voce. The last, if communicated by one who under¬
stands and feels the subject, with a proper degree of
perspicuity and sensibility, kre infinitely the most eli¬
gible. By morals, we would not merely be understood
to mean a regular and incalculable series of action, but
the proper exertion and habitual arrangement of the
whole internal economy, of which external actions are
no more than mere expressions, and from which the
highest and most permanent happiness alone can pro¬
ceed. By theology, we do not mean that systematic
or scholastic jargon, which too frequently usurps its ve¬
nerable name ; but those sublime and liberal ideas of
the nature and government of a Supreme being, whe¬
ther discoverable by nature or revealed in Scripture,
which enforce every moral obligation, which teach us
what is the ultimate good of our nature, which deter-
5°
Of moral
philosophy
and theo-
logy.
32 ] B L I
mine our efforts and animate our hopes in pursuing this
most important of all objects. What Cicero says of1
the arts and sciences may with great propriety be ap¬
plied to religion : Numccetera neque tempoium sunt^ne-
que eetatum omnium, neque locorum ; at luce studia ado-
lescentiam alunt, senectutem oblectant, secundas res or-
nant, adversis perfugium ac solatium prcvbent; delectant
domi, non impediunt foris ; pernoctant nobiscum, pere-
grinantur, rusticantur. Translated thus ; ‘ For other
‘ studies are not suited to every time, to every age, and
‘ to every place : but these give strength in youth, and
‘ joy in old age j adorn prosperity, and are the support
‘ and consolation of adversity; at home they are delight-
‘ and abroad they are easy ; at night they are
‘ company to us ; when we travel, they attend us ;
‘ and in our rural retirements, they do not forsake
‘ us.’
lo this may be added, that the joys of religion are
for ever adequate to the largest capacity of a finite and
progressive intelligence ; and as they are boundless in
extent, so they are endless in duration. We have al¬
ready, more than once, observed, that the soul of a
blind man is extremely obnoxious to melancholy and
dejection. Where, therefore, can he find a more co¬
pious, intimate, permanent, and efficacious source of
comfort than in religion ? Let this then be inculcated
with the utmost care and assiduity. Let the whole
force of the soul be exerted in showing him that it is
reasonable. Let all the noblest affections of the heart
be employed in recommending it as amiable: for we
will venture to assert, that the votary of religion alone
is the man,—
Quem, si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidum ferient ruinee;
Thus translated ;
W hom, though with nature’s wreck oppress’d,
Unmanly fears could ne’er infest.
When the situation of the blind, and its natural ef¬
fects upon their characters, are considered ; when we
reflect hr,w exquisite their distresses, how pungent their
disappointments, how sensible their regrets, how te¬
dious and gloomy their periods of solitude ; we must
be wretches indeed, if we can grudge either labour or
expence in procuring them every source of entertain¬
ment, which, when procured, remains in their own
power, and yields what may be in some measure termed
self-derived enjoyment. These amusements are prolific of
numberless advantages: they afford us at once enter¬
tainment and exertion ; they teach us to explore a
thousand resources for preservation and improvement,
which would otherwise have escaped our attention;
they render us awake and sensible to a thousand notices
both of external and intellectual objects, which would
otherwise have passed unobserved.
Thus far have we proceeded without mentioning
philological learning; though we know it to be at¬
tainable by the blind in a high degree, and though
we are conscious of its importance both to their use
and ornament. But as it is not indispensable, and as
its acquisition is tedious and operose, we thought it
less necessary to be early and minutely specified. We
cannot doubt that learning different languages adds
to the treasure of our ideas, and renders those which
we
Elind.
B L I [ 733 ] B L I
Blii.d. 've possess more clear and definite. It must be ac-
• knowledged, that tbe possession ofi other languages elu¬
cidates our own. The technical terms of almost every
science are exotic ; and without clearly understanding
those, we cannot properly possess the ideas of which
they are the vehicles. But these motives are common
to every candidate for philological improvement with
51 the blind.
>f grain. rj;[ie paths of grammar, however, are dry and rug¬
ged j and it will be necessary for the pedagogue, who¬
ever he is, to take all the opportunities that oiler of
enlightening the darkness and polishing the asperities
of the road. When, therefore, the intellect of the
pupil begins to open and exert its penetration, it will
be proper to show him how the nature, the forms,
and arrangements, of words, flow from our ideas and
their relations. Every substance must naturally be in
some state ; it must either act, or be acted upon. The
actions which it performs or suffers must be performed
or suffered in some definite manner or degree. It
must likewise have some qualities, whether temporary
and accidental, or natural and permanent. These qua¬
lities must likewise he susceptible of degrees. When
different substances are considered in the same state,
its common participation forms a connexion : when
regarded in. different states, that difference forms an
opposition. The constant repetition of the names of
substances and qualities produces a disagreeable mono¬
tony in language. They must therefore be implied in
other words, which likewise in some cases serve to con¬
nect the parts of a sentence. There is a dift’erence be¬
tween such words as imply the connexion of sentences,
and such as imply the connection of states or circum¬
stances. Actions to be performed or suffered may be
either positively affirmed of any substance, or merely
attributed to them. Living and percipient substances
have immediate sensations of pain or pleasure, which
likewise are productive of desire and aversion. To these
sentiments particular sounds are adapted, whether im¬
mediately inspired by nature, or resulting from associa¬
tion and tacit convention.
Thus we have a foundation for all the different parts
of speech j and from their natures and offices their
forms and arrangements may he deduced, according to
$2 the analogy of every language,
lie blind The art of reasoning, the knowledge of history, and
j iceptible a taste for the belles letires, are easily attainable by the
W-blind ", and as they are copious funds of entertainment,
they ho inculcated, though at the expence of care
i tree. and labour.
1 S3 The relations of persons subjected to this misfortune,
I vo 111 pa- ^ if ;n easy circumstances, will find it highly conducive
I united toto ^ie improvement of their charge, to select some
t; blind one among his coevals, of a sound understanding, a
f more sweet and patient temper, a docile mind, a warm heart,
!in the a communicative disposition. These two should be
estnn l ^ght to find their interest and happiness in their con-
nveui- nexion with one another. Their bed, their board, their
walks, their entertainments, their lessons, should be com¬
mon. These are the best eyes with which art can endow
a blind man : and if properly selected, they will on some
occasions yield very little, in utility and perfection, to
those of nature *, nay, at some junctures they may be
preferable.
If the blind must depend upon the exercise of their Blind,
own powers for bread, we have already pointed out -v—
music as their easiest and most obvious province j but ^ ^
let it at the same time be remembered, that mediocrity ot-Jie (?!0St
in this art may prove the bitterest and most effectual pr0pcr eni-
curse which a parent can inflict upon his offspring, asployments
it subjects them to every vicious impression or habit fort^e
which may be imbibed or contracted from the lowest
and most abandoned of mankind. If, your pupil there-
fore, be not endowed with natural talents exquisitely pernicimis.
proper both for the theory and practice of this art, suf¬
fer him by no means to be initiated in it. If his na¬
tural genius favours your attempts, the spinet, harp,
or organ, are the most proper instruments for him to be¬
gin : because by these instruments he may be made
more easily acquainted with the extent of musical scales,
with the powers of harmony, with the relations of
which it is constituted, and of course with the theory
of his art. It would be not only unnecessary, but im¬
practicable, to carry him deep into the theory, before
he has attained some facility in the practice. Let,
therefore, his head and his hands (if we may use the ex¬
pression) he taught to go pari passu. Let the one be
instructed in the simplest elements, and the others con¬
ducted in the easiest operations, first: contemplation
and exercise will produce light in the one and promp¬
titude in tbe other. But as his capacity of specula¬
tion and powers of action become more and more ma¬
ture, discoveries more abstract and retired, tasks more
arduous and difficult, may be assigned him. He should
be taught the names and gradations of the diatonic
scale, the nature and use of time, the diversity of its
modes whether simple or mixed. He should be taught
the quantity or value of notes, not Only with respect
to their pitch, but to their duration. Yet, let him be
instructed not to consider these durations as absolutely
fixed, but variable according to the velocity of the
movements in which they ai’e placed. Thus we reckon
a semibreve equal to 4 vibrations of a pendulum 5 a mi¬
nim to 2 ; a crotchet to I, &c. But if the number
of aliquot parts, into which a semibreve is divided, be
great, and consequently the value of each particular
part small, the minim, crotchet, quaver, &c. will in¬
crease in their intrinsic durations, though they must
always preserve the same proportions relatively one to
another. He should never be habituated to take a
piece of music, either from the sound of a voice or an
instrument. His companion ought to read the music
by the names and values of its characters, with the
same exactness as the words in any other language.
When he becomes a considerable adept in the art, tan¬
gible signs may be invented, by which he may not only
be enabled to read, but even to set music for himself.
Such exercises will render him infinitely more accurate,
both in his principles and practice, than be would
otherwise be.
There is a hint of such tangible signs given in Tan-
sure’s Musical Grammar, p. 93. and which, though
(like the rest of the book) obscure and indigested, may
be improved and applied with advantage.
For the sake of those in whose hands it may not be,
we quote the passage at length.
“ As it is the pleasure of the Almighty, that some Scheme ot
persons are destitute of eye-sight; in like manner it is musical no-
hisUtion.
B L I
Blind, liia infinite goodness to make them a double amends
another way by giving them a greater share of me¬
mory, &.c. whereby they become very dexterous in
playing on musical instruments, mathematics, &c. as
we may observe by Dr Stanley organist of St An¬
drew’s Holborn in London, the blind pro^ssor of
mathematics in the university of Cambridge, and
many others too tedious here to mention, who were
born blind, and never saw the least glance of light j
yet God gave them such a light in knowledge, that they
[ 734 ]
B L I
became the wonder of all such as had the benefit of
seeing, &c.
“ And as blind persons, at first, cannot possibly have
so clear an idea of notes and musical characters as they
that see them, until they are taught by a master or
tutor: I have (for the good-will I bear to such
unfortunate persons) contrived the following table;
that, by feeling, they may understand notes, and
learn any tune that shall be set them, in their master’s
absence.
Blind.
A New Music-Table for such as are Blind.
A 1—0—O—O—O—O—O—O— 0—0—0—0—0 0—c
Gjoooooooooooooc
I —C 0—0 0—O—0—0—0—0—0—0—0 O—c
O—0—0—O—0—O—0—0—0—o— C
o o B
o—o— A
E oooooooooooooooG
* D —o—o—o—o—o—o—c—c—o—o—o—o—c o o F -
C oooooooooooooooE
- B —o—o—o—o—o—o—o—c—o—o—o—o—o—o o— D -
A oooooooo oooooooC
- G —o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o— B -
F oooooooooooooooA
E |—ri——Q—Q Q — Q—Q—Q—q-^q- q q q q C O G
D| OOOOOOOOO oooooo
CQ
£'
B
Explanation.
“ Let A—B be a smooth board, 3 or 4 feet long,
1 inch thick, and 9 inches wide, with 5 square ledges
glued thereon, each being half an inch asunder, half an
inch wide, and half an inch high $ which rising ledges
represent our 3 lines of music, and their spaces : and
the 2 outward lines, being made a little lower, may
serve as leger lines on occasion. The cyphers repre¬
sent so many holes bored into every line and space, half
an inch asunder ; wherein pegs of different shapes are
to be set, to represent the several sorts of notes and
characters of the tune j which pegs the blind person
may know by feeling, as well as he does his keys of
the organ or harpsichord : so that, by keeping his fin¬
gers on the 3 lines, he feels the several pegs as they
come on, and are set to represent the several sorts of
notes, on both line and space ; whilst his right hand
strikes the respective key, &c. he first knowing the
names of all his keys, his lines, spaces, and the mark
of every peg. Let each peg be about half an inch
high, when set in very fast. [N. B. The blind person
must first be taught the names of the above lines and
spaces in both the treble and bass cliffs ; and that he
must feel his treble with his right hand, and his bass
with the left hand $ each being contrary, as you may
see by the letters of the above table, A and B ; and
must learn each part separate.)
“ Of pegs, he must have a great number of every
sort, to set his tune with, which he may mark as fol¬
lows :
For a Semibreve, 4 top-notches.
Minim, 2 top-notches.
Crotchet, 1 top-notch.
Quaver, 1 corner cut off.
For a Semiquaver, 2 corners cut off.
Demisemiquaver, all 4 corners cut off.
Bests, a notch in the corner.
A Flat, 1 notch on the side.
Sharp, 2 notches on the side.
Point, 3 notches on the side.
Bar, a flat thin top.
Repeat, a sharp-pointed top, &c. &c. &c.
“ But it is best for every performer to make and mark
his own pegs ; and deliver them one by one as they
are called for by the person that sets his tuneP
Thus far our author. We have already complained
that Tansure’s Musical Notation is imperfect; and
perhaps every table or instrument of the same kind may
be liable to the same censure, as not being comprehen¬
sive of all the characters in the written language of mu¬
sic, so that the blind reader may find no deficiency in
acquiring any lesson : yet as the cushion of Mr Cheese
appears to have more powers than any other instru¬
ment for the same purposeAthat has hitherto occurred
to our observation, though attended with manv formi¬
dable objections, we here insert it. It may possibly,
however, be best for every blind adept in the musical
art, after being sufficiently instructed in its theoretical
and practical principles, to invent for himself a table,
by which may be expressed all the various phenomena
of music, in which, by varying the forms and positions
of his pegs, he may habitually associate them with
sounds, durations, rests, intervals, chords, cadences, da-
capos, repeats, and all the various graces which give
animation and expression to musical sounds: for thus,
being the immediate creatures of his own imagination,
they will more easily become familiar to his memory,
and be more strongly and readily associated with the
phenomena
B L I [ 735 ] B L I
Blind, plinnomena which they are intended to signify, than if
v—1 he had assumed the inventions of any other.
"heese’s ^ ^'^tee!ie's^escrV)^on °f h's vuichine for teaching mu-
nachine, S*c to PeoP^e deprived of sight, and to enable them to pre-
Pl. XCIII. serve their compositions, in the act of composing, without
ig. 9. the assistance of a copyist.—“ That part of the machine
which represents the book, or paper, is a small cushion
stuffed, on a little frame j along which, is sewed a num¬
ber of packthread strings at equal distances from each
otherj these represent the lines in a music book: the
five which compose the stave, are made of large twine j
and those which represent the leger or occasional lines,
drawn through the heads of the notes, where the music
exceeds the compass of the established stave, are made
of small twine, and are on this machine of the same
length as the others.
“ If the practitioner only wishes to write harpsichord
music, the cushion may be what length he pleases, and
about five or six inches wide; the strings must be
sewed in the following order; beginning with the first
or lowest, near the edge of the cushion ; four small
ones, which correspond with the notes in the base of
the instrument ff, rr, cc, ee: Next five large ones, for
the stave which correspond with the lines in the book,
or notes in the instrument g, b, d, f, r; one small one
which represents the occasional line between the base
and treble, or middle c ; five large ones for the treble
stave, which makes the notes e, g, b, d, f; three small
ones, which represent the leger lines when the music
goes in alt. These provide for the note a in alt, c in alt,
and e in alt; in the space above which, next the edge of
the cushion, the f in alt is wrote, when it is wanting,
which completes the compass of the instrument.
“ Those who only sing or play on single instruments,
such as violins, &c. should have their cushions not
above halt the width of those above-mentioned, upon
which there should be but one stave, and that in the
following order:—Two small lines at bottom, five large
ones in the middle, and three small ones at top. Nei¬
ther of the outside lines of these small cushions should
be sewed close to the edge, as there are notes supposed’
above and below. At either end of these small cushions,
there should be a small wire staple, in order that any
number of them may be combined together at pleasure,
by running a rod through the staples : this will enable
the practitioner to write what musicians call Score, in
any number of parts he pleases ; and by this means a
thorough knowledge of the great works of Handel, and
all other classical authors, may be acquired as well with¬
out sight as with it.
“ The characters used to write on this machine are
pins; some with two, three, or more heads; others
bent in different forms—some, the heads taken off and
the top beat flat; some of these are split; others the
head taken off, and placed near the middle. The bars
are pieces of wire crooked at each end ; a double bai¬
ls made by placing two single ones close together ; a
double sharp and double flat in the same manner.
“ The characters are kept in a box in the same
style as the printer keeps his types ; each different
compartment of which must be marked with a charac¬
ter in writing signifying what each, contained in the
several compartments, is intended to represent. That
the master may be acquainted with them,, the student
must be taught to distinguish each of the characters
contained in the box by the feel, as well as the names
of each line and space upon the cushion. When he can
do this readily, some music should be read to him,
which it will be well for him to copy on the cushion :
and when that is filled, let it be laid on the desk of the
harpsichord before him ; and then by feeling over a pas¬
sage or sentence at a time, and afterwards playing it,
his playings always commencing with the beginning of
the piece, or at some particular part of it, this will
soon enable him to recoiled the whole, when the hands
are taken oft the cushion, to play what has been last
felt. One of these characters, called a direct, must be
placed against the note to be next felt : This will en¬
able the student to go on again, after playing, with¬
out any difficulty. I he person who reads the music,
must be instructed not to call the lines or spaces by the
letters which distinguish them, lest confusion may en¬
sue, every eighth being the same ; but must read in the
following manner : first the name of the character must
be mentioned, whether minim, crotchet, or quaver,
&c. then the line or space ; as for example, minim
on the first line, crotchet on the first space, quaver on
the second, &c. &c. When the music exceeds the
compass of the stave, it must be particularly mention¬
ed whether above or below, first calling the character,
then the leger line or space.
“ The technical term at the beginning of each piece,
is better remembered than wrote down on the machine:
T- he accidental terms, which are best marked by pla¬
cing some character, not much used, either above or
below the note on which it happens, the ingenious mind
will find out a method of doing for itself.
“ This machine will not only teach music ; but call¬
ing the characters letters, any one will be enabled to
spell, read, or write down his sentiments on any sub¬
ject, and even convey them to his friend without the
assistanceof asecretary. Arithmetic may be also taught
upon this machine; as by calling the dot I, and the pause
10, a complete set of figures w-ill be formed.
“ Explanation of the figures. A, B, C, D, the form
of the cushion, which in its full size is about three feet
long, and five inches and three quarters wide, having
thereon a representation of musical notes, shown by,
different pins stuck on it. The lines a, b, c, d, e,.
are of large packthread; and the lines f, g, h, are of
small twine.
“ Pins, N° l. Asemibreve. 2. Asemibreve rest. 3. A
minim. 4. A minim rest. 5. Dots. 6. A crotchet.
7. A crotchet rest. 8. A quaver. 9. A quaver rest.,
10. A sharp. 11. A semiquaver. 12. A semiquaver
rest. 13. A demiquaver. 14. A demiquaver rest. 15. A
flat. 16. A demisemiquaver. 17. A demisemiquaver
rest. 18. A semidemiquaver. 19. A semidemiquaver
rest. 20. A natural. 21. Bars. 22. A direct. 23. A
tye. 24. Bass. 25. Tenor cliff. 26. Treble cliff.
27. A repeat. 28. Pause. 29. This character placed
on any line or space signifies as many notes on that
line or space as there are doubles on the pins; if turn¬
ed upwards, it implies the same number ascending ; if
downward, that number descending. 30. A beat or
inverted shake. 31. A shake ; and when there is a
dot placed over it, signifies a turned shake. Two
dots placed over each other, above the notes, without
this character, signify a turn only. 32. This character
is used over the note to signify forte i and if, a dot i»
placed
B L I [ 735 ] B L I
, i p^ced above it, fortissimo; if the dot is placed above incredulity, to what degrees of eminence, both in the
Pie note ant^ the character, it implies crescendo ; mechanical and liberal arts, the blind may be carried,
it the character is placed below the note, it implies pi- It now remains to demand a categorical answer from
a7io ; and it a dot is placed under it, pianissimo ; but if society, Whether it is more humane and eligible, that
Ine dot is above the character, and below the note, it such unhappy persons should be sutfered to languish out
signifies diminuendo. In concertos, the inventor uses the their lives in torpid and miserable obscurity, wretched
same character placed above the note in the same man- in themselves, and burdensome to others; or to cultivate
tier, with two dots over it, to signify toote; and below and improve their powers in such a manner, as that
the notes, with two dots under it, to signify sob: in vo- they may be qualified for internal enjoyment and pu-
cai music, the same character above the notes, with blic utility ? Surely there is not a human beiny, who
three dots over it, signifies symphony; and below the does not disgrace the works of God, that can be at
notes, with three dots under it, signifies song.'1'' any loss in answering this question. Have we not then
a right to call the world to an account ? have we not
It is certain, that when playing concertos, or, if you a right to demand, why rational beings, susceptible of
please, when performing in scot'e, the blind must depend felicity in themselves, and capable of transfusing hap-
upon memory, and upon memory alone : but happily piness through the societies with whom they are con-
tneir retentive powers are remarkably strong} and there nected, should be abandoned to a state of insignificance
are few pieces in music which will be found either too and misery ? Is it possible that men who are every mo-
intricate to be acquired, or too long to be remembered, merit subjected to the same contingencies with which
by a person deprived ot sight. Mr Stanley, the gentle- they behold their fellow-creatures afflicted, should not
man formerly mentioned by Tansure, performs what is with all their souls endeavour to alleviate the misfor-
still more astonishing. It our information, which we tunes of their suft’ering brethren ? Is the native and he-
cannot doubt, be true, he accompanies any lesson with a reditary portion of human woe so light and supportable
thorough bass, though he never has heard it before, in itself, that w'e should neglect and despise those to
AA e have never yet heard of any person, though blessed whom it is embittered by accidental circumstances of
with the full use of sight, and with all the advantages horror and distress ? You who are parents, who feel
accruing from it, who could thus anticipate harmony the strong and powerful pleadings of nature, do not,
before the chords were sounded, and accompany it in a by a brutal negligence and insensibility, render the ex¬
manner suitable to its nature. istence which you have given a curse to its possessors.
Y. hen he becomes a more profound theorist, if he has Do not give them reason to upbraid your memory}
adopted the notion that music and geometry are conge- and to answer those who ask what patrimony you have
nial and inseparable (w'hich, however, in our judge- left them, that their sole inheritance was ignorance, ia-
ment is frivolous), he may peruse Malcolm’s Essay on capacity, and indigence. You men of wealth and emi-
Music, and TreydeH’s Theory and Practice of Music, nence, you whom Providence has rendered conspicuous
But if he chooses to hear the same principles delivered on the theatre of nature, to whom it has given the no-
without that unnecessary parade and ostentation of pro- blest opportunities of participating the divine beatitude
fctndity, let him be instructed by D’Alembert (see the by the exercise of universal benevolence and genuine
article Music in this Dictionary) } by Rameau, in his patriotism } yours is the glorious province of bringing
Principles of Composition 5 and by Rousseau’s Musical neglected merit from obscurity, of healing the wounds
Dictionary (the substance of which is engrossed in the inflicted by adverse fortune, and of cultivating those
present Work, either under the respective detached ar- talents which may be exerted for your own advantage
tides, or in the notes added to the article Music). It and the honour of your species. Thus you shall rise in
is true, that the forms and proportions of instruments, the heraldry of heaven, and your names diffuse a lustre
the thickness, length, and tension of musical strings, through the extent of space and the archives of eternity,
may be mathematically adjusted } their relations one to Otherwise the temporary glare and parade of your situ-
another may be determined by the coincidence of their ation can produce nothing else but a despicable mimicry
vibrations, or by the number and velocity of these vi- of real and intrinsic greatness, and are no more than a
brations when dissonant; but experience and a good splendid mask to cover what in itself is infamous or de¬
ear, are amply sufficient for these purposes. Yet, if the testable,
necessity of geometry in music should still remain an in¬
delible article in his creed, he may peruse Dr Smith’s By way of appendix to the preceding article, we shall
Philosophical Principles of Harmony. There has also add one or two very singular histories, with which it is
lately been published an explication of Tartini’s theory, hoped our readers will not be displeased,
entitled, The Principles and Power of Harmony; which, An account of some remarkable particulars that hap-
after he has made considerable progress, may be read to pelted to a lady after having had the confluent kind oj
him with sensible improvement. smallpox.~\ “In the course of this disease, during
, 57 which the lady was attended by the late Sir Hans
Apostrophe Thus we have endeavoured to form an estimate of Sloane, several threatening symptoms appeared, which
^ P11*’" the inconveniencies suffered, and the advantages posses- however were at length overcome; and the patient
sed, by the blind ; ive have attempted to show, of what being thought out of danger, took several doses of
kind of culture their remaining faculties are susceptible, such purgative medicines as are usually administered
and what appeared to us the easiest and properest means in the decline of the disease, without any bad conse-
of their improvement. We have illustrated not only quence.
its possibility, but its certainty, by incontestable facts, “ But in the evening of the day on which she had
. which demonstrate, even in the eyes of scepticism and taken the last dose that was intended to be given her
- .2 on
BLIND. PL A TE XCUl
rig.t) .
]
-
B L I [ 737 ] B L I
Blind, on that occasion, she was suddenly seized with pains
' and convulsions in the bowels; the pain and other
symptoms became gradually less violent as the force
of the medicine abated, and by such remedies as were
thought best adapted to the case, they seemed at length
to be entirely subdued.
“ They were, however, subdued only in appearance $
for at eleven o’clock of the forenoon of the next day
they returned with great violence, and continued some
hours j when they went off, they left the muscles of the
lower jaw so much relaxed, that it fell down, and the
chin was supported on the breast. The strength of the
patient was so much exhausted during this paroxysm,
that she lay near two hours with no other signs of life
than a very feeble respiration, which was often so dif¬
ficult to be discerned that those about her concluded
she was dead.
“ From this time the fits returned periodically every
day, at about the same hour. At first they seemed to
affect her nearly in the same degree j but at length all
the symptoms were aggravated, the convulsions became
more general, and her arms were sometimes convulsed
alternately j it also frequently happened, that the arm
which was last convulsed remained extended and inflexi¬
ble some hours after the struggles were over. Her neck
was often twisted with such violence, that the face look¬
ed directly backwards, and the back part of the head
was over the breast j the muscles of the countenance
were also so contracted and writhed by the spasms, that
the features were totally changed, and it was impossible
to find any resemblance of her natural aspect by which
she could be known. Her feet were not less distorted
than her head ; for they were twisted almost to dislo¬
cation at the instep, so that she could not walk but
upon her ancles.
“ To remove or mitigate these deplorable symp¬
toms, many remedies were tried ; and, among others,
the cold bath : but either by the natural effect of the
bath, or by some mismanagement in the bathing, the
unhappy patient first became blind, and soon after¬
wards deaf and dumb. It is not easy to conceive what
could increase the misery of deafness, dumbness, blind¬
ness, and frequent paroxysms of excruciating pain ; yet
a very considerable aggravation was added j for the loss
of her sight, her hearing, and her speech, was followed
by such a stricture of the muscles of her throat, that
she could not swallow any kind of aliment either solid
or liquid. It might reasonably be supposed that this
circumstance, though it added to the degree of her
misery, would have shortened its duration j yet in this
condition she continued near three quarters of a year j
and during that time was supported in a very uncom¬
mon manner, by chewing her food only ; which having
turned often, and kept long in her mouth, she was ob-
liged at last to spit out. Liquors were likewise gar¬
gled about in her mouth for some time ; and then re¬
turned in the same manner, no part of them having
passed the throat by an act of deglutition: so that
whatever was conveyed into the stomach, either of the
juices of the solid food, or of liquids, was either gra¬
dually imbibed by the sponginess of the parts which
they moistened, or trickled down in a very small quan¬
tity along the sides of the vessels.
“ But there were other peculiarities in the case of
this lady, yet more extraordinary. Durine the nriva-
Yol III. Part II. * 5 * +
tion of her sight and hearing, her touch and her smell
became so exquisite, that she could distinguish the dif- v-—y-—
ferent colours of silk and flowers, and was sensible when
any stranger was in the room with her.
“ After she became blind, and deaf, and dumb, it
was not easy to contrive any method by which a que¬
stion could be asked her, and an answer received. This,
however, was at last effected, by talking with the fin¬
gers, at which she was uncommonly ready. But those
who conversed with her in this manner, were obliged
to express themselves by touching her hand and fingers
instead of their own.
“ A lady who was nearly related to her, having an
apron on, that was embroidered with silk of different
colours, asked her, in the manner which has been de¬
scribed, if she could tell what colour it was ? and after
applying her fingers attentively to the figures of the
embroidery, she replied, that it was red, and blue, and
green $ which was true. The same lady having a pink
coloured ribbon on her head, and being willing still fur¬
ther to satisfy her curiosity and her doubts, asked what
colour that was ! her cousin, after feeling some time,
answered, that it was pink colour: this answer was yet
more astonishing, because it showed not only a power
of distinguishing different colours, but different kinds
of the same colour: the ribbon was not only discover¬
ed to be red, but the red was discovered to be of the
pale kind called a pink.
“ This unhappy lady, conscious of her own uncom¬
mon infirmities, was extremely unwilling to be seen by
strangers, and therefore generally retired to her cham¬
ber, where none but those of the family were likely to
come. The same relation, who had by the experiment
of the apron and ribbon discovered the exquisite sensi¬
bility of her touch, was soon after convinced by an ac¬
cident, that her power of smelling was acute and refined
in the same astonishing degree.
“ Being one day visiting the family, she went up to
her cousin’s chamber, and after making herself known,
she intreated her to go down, and sit with her among
the rest of the family, assuring her that there was no
other person present: to this she at length consented,
and went down to the parlour door $ but the moment
the door was opened, she turned back, and retired to
her own chamber much displeased; alleging, that there
were strangers in the room, and that an attempt had
been made to deceive her : it happened indeed that there
were stranger’s in the room j but they had come in while
the lady was above stairs, so that she did not know
they were there. When she had satisfied her cousin of
this particular, she was pacified j and being afterwards
asked how she knew there were strangers in the room,
she answered, by the smell.
“ But though she could by this sense distinguish in
general between persons with whom she was well ac¬
quainted and strangers, yet she could not so easily di¬
stinguish one of her acquaintance from another without
other assistance. She generally distinguished her friends
by feeling their hands ; and when they came in, they
used to present their hands to her, as a mean of making
themselves known ; the make and warmth of the hand
produced, in general, the differences that she distin¬
guished j but she sometimes used to span the wrist, and
measure the fingers. A lady, with whom she was very
well acquainted, coming in one very hot day, after
5 ^ having
B L I
Blind, having walked a mile, presented her hand as usual; she
v——; felt it longer than ordinary, and seemed to doubt whose
it was ; but after spanning the wrist, and measuring the
fingers, she said, ‘ It is Mrs M. but she is warmer to¬
day than ever I felt her before.’
“ To amuse herself in the mournful and perpetual
solitude and darkness to which her disorder had reduced
her, she used to work much at her needle; and it is re¬
markable, that her needle-work was uncommonly neat
and exact: among many other pieces of her work that
are preserved in the family, is a pin-cushion, which can
scarcely be equalled. She used also sometimes to write :
and her writing was yet more extraordinary than her
needle-work : it was executed with the same regularity
and exactness j the character was very pretty, the lines
were all even, and the letters placed at equal distances
from each other: but the most astonishing particular of
all, with respect to her writing, is, that she could by
some means discover when a letter had by some mistake
been omitted, and would place it over that part of the
word where it should have been inserted with a caret
under it. It was her custom to sit up in bed at any
hour of the night, either to write or to work, when her
pain or any other cause kept her awake.
“ These circumstances were so very extraordinary,
that it was long doubted whether she had not some faint
remains both of hearing and sight, and many experi¬
ments were made to ascertain the matter 5 some of these
experiments she accidentally discovered, and the disco¬
very always threw her into violent convulsions. The
thought of being suspected of insincerity, or supposed
capable of acting so wicked a part as to feign infirmi¬
ties that were not inflicted, was an addition to her misery
which she could not bear, and which never failed to pro¬
duce an agony of mind not less visible than that of her
body. A clergyman who found her one evening at work
by a table with a candle upon it, put his hat between
her eyes and the candle, in such a manner that it was
impossible she could receive any benefit from the light
of it if she had not been blind. She continued still at
her work, with great tranquillity 5 till, putting up her
hand suddenly to rub her forehead, she struck it against
the hat, and discovered what was doing *, upon which
she was throv/n into violent convulsions, and was not
without great difficulty recovered. The family were
by these experiments, and several accidental circum¬
stances, fully convinced that she was totally deaf and
blind } particularly by sitting unconcerned at her work,
during a dreadful storm of thunder and lightning, though
she was then facing the window, and always used to be
much terrified in such circumstances. But Sir Hans
Sloane, her physician, being still doubtful of the truth
of facts which were scarce less than miraculous, he was
permitted to satisfy himself by such experiments and ob¬
servations as he thought proper j the issue of which was,
that he pronounced her to be absolutely deaf and blind.
“ She was at length sent to Bath, where she was in
some measure relieved $ her convulsions being less fre¬
quent, and her pains less acute : but she never recovered
her speech, her sight, or her hearing, in the least degree.
“ Many of the letters dated at Bath, in some of which
there are instances of interlineations with a caret, the
writer of this narrative hath seen, and they are now in
the custody of the widow of one of her brothers, who,
B L I
with many other persons, can support the facts here re- B];ncj
lated, however wonderful, with such evidence as it would 1-—v—.
not only be injustice, but folly, to disbelieve.”
An account of a French lady, blindfrom her infancy,
who can read, ivrite, and play at cards, &c.]—A
young gentlewoman of a good family in France, now
in her 18th yeart, lost her sight when only two ycays} Annual
old, her mother having been advised to lay some pigeons
blood on her eyes, to preserve them in the small-pox jfor I76i*
whereas, so far from answering the end, it ate into
them. Nature, however, may be said to have compen¬
sated for the unhappy mistake, by beauty of person,
sweetness of temper, vivacity of genius, quickness of
conception, and many talents which certainly much al¬
leviate her misfortune.
“ She plays at cards with the same readiness as others
of the party. She first prepares the packs allotted to
her, by pricking them in several parts j yet so imper¬
ceptibly, that the closest inspection can scarcely discern
her indexes. She sorts the suits, and arranges the
cards in their proper sequence, with the same precision,
and nearly the same facility, as they who have their
sight. All she requires of those who play with her, is
to name every card as it is played j and these she re¬
tains so exactly, that she frequently performs some no¬
table strokes, such as show a great combination and
strong memory.
“ The most wonderful circumstance is, that she should
have learned to read and write ; but even this is readily
believed on knowing her method. In writing to her,
no ink is used, but the letters are pricked down on the
paper; and by the delicacy of her touch, feeling each let¬
ter she follows them successively, and reads every word
with her finger ends. She herself in writing makes use
of a pencil, as she could not know when her pen was
dry j her guide on her paper is a small thin ruler and of
the breadth of her writing. On finishing a letter, she
wets it, so as to fix the traces of her pencil, that they
be not obscured or effaced j then proceeds to fold and
seal it, and write the direction $ all by her own address,
and without the assistance of any other person. Her
writing is very straight, well cut, and the spelling no
less correct. To reach this singular mechanism, the in¬
defatigable cares of her affectionate mother were long
employed, who accustomed her daughter to feel letters
cut in cards or pasteboard, brought her to distinguish
an A from a B, and thus the whole alphabet, and after¬
words to spell words j then, by the remembrance of
the shape of the letters, to delineate them on paper
and, lastly, to arrange them so as to form words and
sentences.
“ She has learned to play on the guitar, and has
even contrived a way of pricking down the tunes as an
assistance to her memory. So delicate are her organs,,
that in singing a tune, though new to her, she is able to
xiame the notes.
“ In figured dances she acquits herself extremely
well, and in a minuet with inimitable ease and grace¬
fulness. As for the works of her sex, she has a mas¬
terly hand ; she sews and hems perfectly well ; and in
all her works she threads the needles for herself, how¬
ever small.
“ By the watch her touch never fails telling her ex¬
actly the hour and minute,”
From
[ 738 ]
2
B L I [ 739 1 B L I
Blind
From tins account, however, it would appear, that
^ except reading and writing, the French lady has no-
Bliadness. thing to boast of’ in which she is not excelled by Mr
—v  Stanley already mentioned, if we may credit all that
is reported of him. The works peculiar to her sex
are gained mechanically; but the distinguishing colours,
telling the precise time by a watch, naming the notes
in music, and many other things depending upon the
ear and touch, are said to be so familiar to him, that
his friends cease to think them extraordinary. At¬
tainments still more wonderful are ascribed to him ; as,
the naming the number of persons in a room on en¬
tering it ; the directing his voice to each person in
particular, even to strangers when they have once
spoken ; the missing any person absent, and telling who
that person is; and, lastly, his being able to form
just conceptions of youth, beauty, symmetry, and
shape.
Povc-Blind, or Pur-blind. A person who is very
shortsighted is said to he pur-blind.
Moou-Blind, denotes horses that lose their sight at
certain times of the moon. See Farriery Index.
Blind Harry. See Henry the Minstrel.
BhiND-Worm. See Anguis, Ophiology Index.
BLINDE, among mineralists, a species of lead-mar-
casite, by our miners called mock-ore, mock-lead, and
wild lead, &c. The German mineralists call it blende,
whence our denomination blinde. It answers to what
in Agricola is called Galena inanis.
It usually lies immediately over the veins of lead-ore,
in the mines which produce it, for it is not found in
all. When the miners see this, they know the vein of
ore is very near.
BLINDS, or Blindes, in the art of war, a sort
of defence commonly made of oziers, or branches in¬
terwoven, and laid across between two rows of stakes,
about the height of a man, and four or five feet asun¬
der, used particularly at the heads of trenches,, when
they are extended in front towards the glacis ; serving
to shelter the workmen, and prevent their being over¬
looked by the enemy.
BLINDING, a species of corporeal punishment an¬
ciently inflicted on thieves, adulterers, perjurers, and
others ; and from which the ancient Christians were
not exempt. Sometimes lime and vinegar, or barely
scalding vinegar, was poured into the eyes till their
balls were consumed ; sometimes a rope was twisted
round the head till the eyes started out. In the mid¬
dle age, they changed total blindness for a great dark¬
ness or diminution of sight; which they produced by
holding a red-hot iron dish or bason before the eyes
till their humours were dried and their coats shrivelled
The inhabitants of the city Apollonia executed it on
their watch whom they found asleep.—Democritus
(according to Plutarch, Cicero, and A. Gellius), put
out his own eyes, that he might be less disturbed in his
mental contemplations, when thus freed from the dis¬
traction of the objects of sight.
BLINDNESS, a privation of the sense of sight,
arising from a total deprivation of its organs, or an in¬
voluntary obstruction of their functions. See the ar¬
ticle Blind.
Total Blindness, is that wherein all sight or per¬
ception, even of light, is wanting, as in the case of those
who are said to be stone-blind. A blind man, by the Blindness,
civil law, cannot make a testament except under certain s——v—j
modifications ; but in every case he is disabled from
being a witness to a testament, on account of his blind-
ness.
Partial Blindness, is that wherein some faint glim¬
mering is left, as is always the case in people who have
ripe cataracts, who are never so blind but they can dis¬
cern day from night.
Perpetual Blindness, is that which remains alike
under all the diversity of seasons, times, ages* &c.
Transient Blindness, is that which gives way of it¬
self in due time, as that of whelps, which continues for
several days, sometimes nine, rarely twelve, after they
are littered. The Nogais Tartars, according to Father
Du Ban the Jesuit, who lived among them, are bom
blind, and open not their eyes till several days.
Periodical Blindness, is that which comes and goes
by turns, according to the season of the moon, time of
day, and the like.
Diurnal Blindness, is called hemeracopia.
Nocturnal Blindness, called also nyctalopia, that
which ensues on the setting of the sun in persons who
see perfectly in the day, but become quite blind as
soon as night comes on. Brigg, in Phil. Trans. N° 159.
p. 560, where an instance of it is given. See a singu¬
lar case of this kind related by Dr Samuel Pye, in the
Medic. Observ. and Inquir. vol. i. p. ill.
The causes of blindness are either ordinary, as a de¬
cay of the optic nerve (an instance whereof we have in
the Academy of Sciences, where upon opening the eye
of a person long blind, the optic nerve was found ex¬
tremely shrunk and decayed, and having no medulla in
it) ; or some external violence, vicious conformation,
growth of a cataract, gutta serena, small pox, or the
like. See Medicine Index.
Extraordinary causes of blindness are malignant
stenches, poisonous juices dropped into the eye, baneful
vermin, long confinement in the dark, or the like.
The ducks which breed under ground, and break out
into the Zirchnitzer sea in Carniola after all great
storms, are blind at their first eruption ; but in some
time come to their sight. The author of the Embassy
of D. Garcias de Sylva Figueroa into Persia tells us,
that in several parts of that kingdom are found vast
numbers of blind people of all ages, sexes, and condi¬
tions ; by reason of a species of little flies which prick
the eyes and lips, and enter the nostrils, carrying cer¬
tain blindness with them when they light on the eyes.
Blindness, in Farriery, is a disease incident to
horses, especially those of an iron gray or dapple-gray
colour, when ridden too hard or backed too young. It
may be discovered by the walk or step, which in a
blind horse is always uncertain and unequal, because he
dares not set down his feet boldly when led in one’s
hand; though if the same horse be mounted by an ex¬
pert horseman, and the horse of himself be mettled,
the fear of the spur will make him go more freely ; so
that his blindness can hardly be perceived. Another
mark whereby a horse may be known to have lost his
sight is, that upon hearing anybody enter the stable,
he will prick up his ears, and move them backwards
and forwards, as mistrusting every thing and being in
continual alarm by the least noise. Dr Lower first
showed the cause of the ordinary blindness in horses,
5 A 2 which
B L ° [
B!m(|ness which is a spongy excrescence, growing in one, some-
BiuU UT ,n.tW0 °r three Places of the uvea> wIlic^ being
v lenhrtI> overgrown, covers the pupil when the horse
is brought into the light, though in a dark stable it di¬
lates again.
1»LI NKS, among ancient sportsmen, denoted boughs
broken down from trees, and thrown in the way where
deer are likely to pass, to hinder their running, or ra¬
ther to mark which way a deer runs, in order to guide
the hunter.
BLINKING OF BEER, in Lincolnshire, signifies
letting the wort stand for some time in the vat, till it
hath acquired some degree of acidity, in order to dis¬
pose it to fine, and be the sooner ready for drinking.
BLISSOM, among husbandmen, corruptly called
blossom, is the act of a ram when coupling with an
ewe.
ER, in Medicine, a thin bladder containing
a watery humour, whether occasioned by burns and the
like accidents, or by vesicatories applied to different
parts of the body for that purpose.
ELITE. See Blitum, Botany Index.
BLITH, a town of Nottinghamshire, in England,
seated in W. Long. o. 55. N. Lat. 53. 25.
BLIIUM, Elite, Strawberry Spinach. See Bo¬
tany Index.
BLOATING, a puffing up or inflation of the ex¬
terior habit of the body, lodged chiefly in the adipose
cells. It is the same with what physicians call an em¬
physema.
BLOCH, Mark Eleazer, a German naturalist
of Jewish extraction. See Supplement.
BLOCK is used for a piece of marble as it comes
out of the quarry, before it has assumed any form from
the hand of a workman.
Block, in the mechanic arts, a large piece of solid
wood whereon to fasten work or to fashion it; strength
and stability being the requisite propei-ties. In this
sense, we say a chopping block; a sugar-finer1 s block ;
a smith's block, on which his anvil is fastened, &c.
Block, among cutters in wood, is a form made of
pear-tree, bpx, or other hard and close-grained wood,
tree from knots, on which they cut their figures in re¬
lievo with knives, chissels, &c.
Block, in lalconry, denotes the perch whereon
a bird of prey is kept. This is to be covei*ed with
cloth.
Blocks, in sea-language, are pieces of wood be¬
longing to ships, in which the shivers of pulleys are
placed, and wherein the running-ropes go. Of these
some are single, some double*, and some have three,
four, or five shivers in them. They are named and
distinguished by the ropes they carry, and the uses they
serve for.
Block Machinery; machinery lately introduced into
the naval dock-yards of Britain for manufacturing blocks.
See Supplement.
Mounting-Block, an eminence usually of stone, cut
in steps or notches, serving as a help to mount on
horseback. These were much in use among the an¬
cients, who were unacquainted with stirrups. The
Komans erected them at proper stations along all their
great roads.
Block, Daniel, portrait painter, was born at Stet-
Uil in Pomerania in 1580, and gave early proofs of
3
740 ] B L O
a good genius j which induced his parents to place Block
him as a disciple with Jacob Scherer, a master capable |]
of giving him the best directions, to qualify him for ®l°eniart
proceeding successfully in his profession. He chiefly  
painted portraits, in which (according to Sandrart)
he was very eminent, and had the honour to paint the
portraits of Christian IV. king of Denmark, and of
Gustavus Adolphus king of Sweden. The extraor¬
dinary merit of this master recommended him to the
esteem of the prince of Mecklenburg, who retained him
in his service for 44 years j and by order of that prince,
he painted the portraits of his whole family at full
length, as large as life, and in the antique habit 5 by
which works his reputation was established effectually.
By the agreeable manner of his colouring, and the easy
attitudes of his figures, his paintings became so accept¬
able to all persons of rank, that before the decline of
life, he had acquired a very large fortune j but unfor¬
tunately he lost it all, in the compass of a few hours,
by the sudden irruption of a plundering party, and with
great difficulty his own life was preserved. He died in
1661.
BLOCKADE, in the art of war, the blocking up
a place, by posting troops at all the avenues leading to
it, to keep supplies of men and provisions from getting
into it $ and by these means to starve it out. See
Blockade, Supplement.
To raise a Blockade, is to force the troops that
keep the place blocked up from their posts.
BLOCKLAND, Anthony de Montfort, histo¬
ry and portrait painter, was born of a noble family at
Montfort in I532, learned the art of painting in
the school of Francis Floris, whose manner he always
followed j and became an artist of great distinction, by
endeavouring principally to imitate the taste of the Ro¬
man school in design and composition. His genius was
best adapted to grand compositions, of which he de¬
signed many ; some at Delft, but more at Utrecht.
His designs had grandeur, the airs of his heads were
noble, and the profiles of his female figures approached
near to the taste of Parmigiano. Several of his works
are in so good a taste, and particularly a Venus, and
the history of Joseph and his brethren, that they seem
to have been painted by a master educated in the school
of Florence. He died in 1583.
BLOCZIL, a fortress of Overyssel in the United
Provinces, seated on the river A, at the place where
it falls into the Zuyder Zee. It has a port sufficient to
contain 200 vessels, and serves to defend those ships
that cross the sea. Its fortifications, which were con¬
siderable, have been allowed to fall to decay. E. Long.
6. o. N. Lat. 52. 44.
BLOEMART, Abraham, painter of landscape,
cattle, history, and portrait, was born at Gorcum in
1564, according to Houbraken : but according to San¬
drart, whose authority seems to claim the preference,
he was born in 1567, and lived mostly at Utrecht. In
his youth he applied himself diligently to design after
the works of Francis Floris, and afterwards received
instructions from several artists of no great repute ; but
the power of his own genius proved his principal di¬
rector in the art of painting. He formed a manner
peculiar to himself, making nature his model for many
of the objects be painted, particularly his cattle, in
which he excelled. He died in 1647. ELe Eft four
sons
B L O [ 741 1 B L O
Jlo.'mart, sons who were all of them artists j hut the most famous
Blois. was Cornelius, the subject of the following article.
~ ’ Bj.oemart, Cornelius, the youngest son of Abra¬
ham, was born in 1603 at Utrecht. The first prin¬
ciples of drawing and painting he learned from his fa¬
ther , but his natural inclination for the art of engra¬
ving was so powerful, that he applied himself wholly to
the pursuit of it. He first studied under Crispin de
Pas, an engraver much more famous for the neatness
than the good taste of his works. Not satisfied with
what he learned from this artist, he went to Rome, in
order to perfect himself from the works of the greatest
masters: And in that city (where the far greater part
of his engravings were made) he died in a very advan¬
ced age.—“ The manner of engraving, adopted by
this excellent artist, appears to me (says Mr Strutt) to
be not only quite original, but the source from which
we may trace that style in which the greatest and best
French masters excelled •, those I mean who worked
with the graver only. He covered the lights upon his
distances, and the other parts of his plates which re¬
quired tinting, with great care. The lights, whether
on the distant hills, trees, buildings, or figures, in the
engravings prior to his time, had been left quite clear,
and by so many white spots scattered in various parts
of the same design, the harmony was destroyed, the
subject confused, and the principal figures prevented
from relieving with any striking effect. By this judi¬
cious improvement, Bloemart gave to his prints a more
clear and finished appearance, than all the laboured
neatness even of Jerom Wierix had been able to produce.
He drew correctly : but from his style of engraving,
which was executed entirely with the graver, the ex¬
tremities of his figures are heavy, and his heads are not
always equally beautiful or expressive. With respect
to the mechanical part of the works, few indeed have
excelled him, either in clearness, or freedom of execu¬
tion. His great fault, however, is want of variety.
The naked parts of his figures, the draperies, and the
back-ground, are equally neat, and engraved precisely
in the same manner. Hence the effect is flat; and the
flesh, for want of sufficient distinction, appears cold and
silvery. His works are justly held in high estimation.
They are very numerous, and many of them difficult to
be procured.”
BLOTS, a town of France, in the department of
Loire and Cher, is seated on the banks of the river
Loire, partly on a plain, and partly on an eminence,
in the midst of one of the piost agreeable countries of
France. The castle is the ornament of this city. At
the first view, it seems to be two distinct buildings ; but
it is joined by a passage cut out of the rock. Joining
to this, on the west side, is the tower of Chateau Rcg-
naud, so called because that lordship may be discovered
from hence, though 20 miles distant. At the east end
of this is another small tower, whi^Ji is partly ancient
and partly modern. That part of the castle which
was built by the duke of Orleans, in the room of that
which he demolished in 1632, is a superb edifice, but
unfinished. The court, before it, where the church of
St Saviour is built, is very large, and was formerly
used for tournaments. The most remarkable thing in
this castle is a fine long gallery, adorned with many
curious and uncommon pieces j it is in the midst of
two gardens, one of which is full of fruit-trees, and
the other of parterres, fountains, cascades, and mar¬
ble statues brought from Italy. Beyond these, there
is a large park, where there is game in abundance.
On all the gates of the city there is the image of the
Virgin Mary, who they believe freed them from the
plague in 1631. There are several parish-churches,
chapters, and religious houses for both sexes. The
church of St Solenne is the cathedral, and is the hand¬
somest in the city. The front of the Jesuits church
is decorated with three orders of architecture, the
Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian ; but there is only the
Doric on the inside. The town-house is a tolerable
building, and stands in a street which terminates at
the quay, where there is a public walk that has a fine
prospect on the Loire, over which there is a bridge
that leads to the suburbs of Vienna. There are a few
houses on the bridge, and a tower at each end to guard
the entrance. About three quarters of a mile from
the city, the water runs down the clefts of a rock into
a large aqueduct, by which it is conveyed to a reservoir
near the wallsj and from hence distributed by leaden
pipes to the several parts of the city. The country
about Blois produces corn, wine, cattle, and game of
every kind, and the waters a great quantity of fish.
The meadows are so rich and fertile, that the cows
yield excellent milk, good in consumptive cases, and
which affords the best cream in the kingdom. About
a league from Blois, there are mineral springs, which
have the same virtues as those of Forges. The trade
of Blois is chiefly in wine and brandy j but they also
make some serges and stuffs at this place. It contain¬
ed 13,000 inhabitants in 1815. Several kings have
kept their courts at Blois ; for which reason they speak
the French language in perfection. E. Long. 1. 30.
N. Lat. 47. 35.
BLOMARY, or Bloomary, in Metallurgy, the
first forge through which iron passes, after it is melted
out of the ore.
BLOEMEN, Peter Van, a celebrated painter,
born at Antwerp, was brother to John Francis Van
Bloemen, called by the Italians Orizonti, and lived
for several years at Rome along with his brother. As
soon as he found himself competently skilled in colour¬
ing and penciling, as well as in designing, he returned
to his native city, where, in the year 1699, *ie was
appointed director of the academy. The composition
of this master is rich, and his pictures are generally
filled with a number of figures. His subjects are, the
marchings of squadrons of cavalry, encampments, ar¬
tillery, battles, Italian fairs, markets, and festivals; in
which he shewed great correctness in his design and in
his drawing; and an elegance in the manner of dressing
his figures, whom he frequently represented in orien¬
tal habits. He designed horses in an admirable style;
and in his battles gave them abundance of spirit, grace¬
ful attitudes, and an expression that was full of life and
nature. His landscapes are enriched with elegant ar¬
chitecture, with basso-relievos, and mutilated statues,
in a noble taste; and rendered still more pleasing by a
good tone of colour, by animals of different kinds, and
excellent figures.—His best works are admired in all
parts of Europe, and afford large prices : but it is to
be observed, that some of his pictures seem rather to lie
too
Jttoi*
II
Bloemart.
 v *
B L O
[ 742 ]
B L O
UloucL
Btoemen too much laboured or stiff, and (according to the ar¬
tists phrase) smell of the palette 5 and those are propor-
tionably less estimable.
Bloemen, John Francis Van. See Orizonti.
Bloemen, Norbert Van, brother of the preceding,
was a painter of portraits and conversations ; but in me¬
rit was very inferior to his brothers, although he had a
good deal of employment.
BLOND, Christopher EE, painter of portraits in
miniature and all kinds of subjects on paper, was born
in 1670. Very few circumstances relative to his edu¬
cation or life are mentioned by any writers till he was
known at Rome in the year 1716, being at that time
painter to the Count Martinetz, ambassador at the
court of Rome. By the solicitation of Overbeke he
was induced to go to Amsterdam, and in that city
was employed to paint small portraits for bracelets,
rings, and snuff-boxes j of which, although they were
painted in water-colours, yet the colouring was as
lively and natural as if they had been painted in oil.
However, as he found his sight much impaired by the
minuteness of his work, he discontinued water-colour
painting, and attempted the use of oil with a reason¬
able degree of success. After he had resided for some
years in the Low Countries, he went to England, and
set up a new method of printing mezzotinto plates in
colours so as to imitate the pictures of which they were
copies. In this manner he executed in England, seve¬
ral large plates, from pictures of the greatest masters,
and disposed of the prints by lottery. But those who
obtained the prizes (Mr Strutt says) appear not to
have held them in any very great estimation. “ The
prints (he adds) certainly possess some merit, exclusive
of their novelty 5 but, in general, the colours are flat
and dirty j the effect is neither striking nor judiciously
managed j and the drawing is frequently very incor¬
rect, especially in the extremities of his figures.” Mr
Pilkington speaks of them with greater approbation.
“ The artist (he says) imitated his models with so
much skill, such exact resemblance, such correctness of
outline, such similarity of colour and expression, that
at first they amazed every beholder, who viewed them
at a proper distance $ and many of those prints are still
extant, which are much esteemed by persons of good
taste.” And Mr Walpole observes, that some heads,
coloured progressively, according to their several gra¬
dations, bear witness to the success and beauty of his
invention. He had another merit to the public, with
which few inventors begin ; for he communicated his
secret in a thin quarto, entitled Coloritto, or “ The
harmony of colouring in painting reduced to mechani¬
cal practice, under easy precepts and infallible rules.”
His method was performed by several mezzotinto plates
for one piece, each expressing different shades and parts
of the piece in different colours. He was not, how¬
ever, it is said, the original inventor of that manner
of managing colours, but took it from Lastman and
others, who, with much greater regularity of morals,
equal capacities, and more discreet conduct, had before
undertaken it without success. Le Blond, whose head
was continually full of schemes, next set on foot a
project for copying the cartoons of Raphael in tape¬
stry, and made drawings from the pictures for that
purpose. Houses were built and looms erected at the
Mulberry Ground at Chelsea j but the expences being
too great, or the contributions not equal to the first ex- Blond
pectations, the scheme was suddenly defeated, and Le |]
Blond disappeared, to the no small dissatisfaction of Blo°d
those who were engaged with him. From hence he went
to Paris, where, Basan informs us, he was in the year
1737 j and in that city he died, 1740, in an hospital.
Le Blond was also author of a treatise, in French, on
ideal beauty. It was published in 1732, and has since
been translated into English.
BLONDEL, David, a Protestant minister, distin¬
guished by his skill in ecclesiastical and civil history,
was born at Chalons sur Marne, and was admitted
minister at a synod of the Isle of France, in 1614. He
wrote, 1. A defence of the reformed churches of
France. 2. A work against the decretal epistles. 3.
I)e Episcopis et Presbyteris; and other pieces. Bayle
informs us, that he had a very singular way of study¬
ing $ he lay on the ground, and had round about him
the books which he wanted for the work he was about.
He died in 1665, aged 64.
Blondel, Francis, regius professor of mathematics
and architecture, was employed in several negociations,
arrived at the dignity of marshal de camp and counsel¬
lor of state, and had the honour of being chosen to teach
the dauphin the mathematics 5 he was also made mem¬
ber of the Academy of Sciences at Paris, and director
of the Academy of Architecture. He died at Paris in
1688, aged 68. He wrote, 1. Notes on the Architec¬
ture of Savot. 2. A course of architecture and mathe¬
matics. 3. The art of throwing bombs. 4. A new
manner of fortifying places. 5. A comparison between
Pindar and Horace j and other works.
BLONDUS, Flavius, an historian born at Forli,
in Italy, in 1388, was secretary to Eugenius IV. and
other popes. He composed a great many books 5 and,
among others, a History from the year 400 to 1440.
He died in 1463.
BLONIEZ, a town of Poland, in the province of
Warsovia. E. Long. 20. 35. N. Lat. 52. O.
BLOOD, a red liquor circulating through the ves¬
sels of the human body and the bodies of the larger ani¬
mals, which appears immediately and essentially neces¬
sary to the preservation of life. x
Though there is no living creature as yet known No animal
whose life doth not immediately depend upon the cir-^1*101;1
culation of some kind of fluid through its vessels, yet sora.e
unless such fluid is of a red colour, it does not obtain t0
the name of blood ; and therefore such creatures as have
a colourless or milky liquor circulating through their
vessels, are called exsanguious animals. a
The blood has a very different degree of thickness or Blood of
viscidity in different animals, and even in the same an^* in
mal at difterent times. Though it is in all cases en-^.ffgrent
dowed with a considerable degree of tenacity, yet in animal*,
strong animals that tenacity is remarkably greater than 3
in weak ones} and hence the blood of bulls was made That of
use of by the ancients as a poison, its extreme viscidity bulls a*1* ,
rendering it totally indigestible by the powers of the hu-cie^ p;80n.
man stomach. It is well known also by physicians, that
there are some states of the human body in which the
blood becomes vastly tenacious, so as in a great measure
to refuse any intimate connection with water} and
others, in which its crasis is almost totally dissolved, so
as to appear, when drawn out of the body, like a fluid
and half putrid mass. See Medicine Index.
The
B L O
[ 743 1
B L O
Blood.
The common appearance of the hlood when drawn
from a vein of the human body is well known. It first
4i ° 1
lood chc-
rjcally a-
Blysed.
6
intains
I sts,
4 seems a homogeneous red liquor 5 then it consolidates
^Pea^nc® into one uniform mass j in a little time, a yellowish wa-
iien °0dtery liquor begins to separate from it, which is more
<fewn from or less in quantity according to the state in which the
svein. blood happens to be 5 the red mass, in the mean time,
contracts greatly in its dimensions, and increases in so¬
lidity. But this increase of solidity is likewise propor¬
tional to the state of the blood at the time : in strong
people, if attacked with a violent inflammatory disease,
the solid part is exceedingly tough, insomuch that Dr
Huxham says he has sometimes found it almost like a
piece of flesh itself-, whereas, in other diseases, the solid
part is very soft and tender, breaking in pieces with
the slightest touch. The spontaneous separation of the
blood into crassamentum, serum, and coagulable lymph,
hath been already taken notice ol under Anatomy.
See Anatomy Index.
The attention of physiologists hath been very much
engaged by enquiries into the nature and composition
of the blood, and accordingly it hath been examined
in all possible ways. By a chemical analysis, it dis¬
covers the same principles with other animal substances ;
giving over in distillation a great quantity of phlegm,
a volatile spirit, with much fetid oil j after which,
there remains a charred matter, that, burnt in an open
fire, leaves a white earth similar to calcined hartshorn.
Some eminent chemists, Mr Homberg particularly, have
cjrdhig toC" asserted tliat blood contains an acid as well as an alkali,
ifne che- but that the former doth not arise till towards the end
of the distillation : but what is very singular, and in¬
deed must throw no small suspicion on the whole account
is, that the acid and alkali, notwithstanding their great
tendency on all other occasions to unite with each other,
do here remain separate, so that the liquor may be even
redistilled without their forming any neutral compound.
|:pcriment An experiment in confirnration of this is recorded in the
iiconfirma- memojrg 0f the Royal Academy for 1712. Six pounds
In 0 1 ls,0f |lumau blood distilled to dryness with a gentle heat,
were reduced to a pound and a half; after which, the
mass was urged with a graduated fire, till the retort at
last became red hot. The produce was 17 ounces of
liquor } 12 of which W'ere a red and very empyreuma-
tic volatile spirit, the other five were oil. The caput
mortuum was a light coal weighing four ounces and a
half. On rectifying the volatile spirit in a small retort,
about an ounce of red fetid liquor remained, which
had a very acid smell, and turned the juice of tournsol
red. Mr Homberg now imagined, that the acid con¬
tained in the hlood of animals could not disengage it¬
self perfectly by these distillations without addition.
He therefore determined to distil human blood with
an admixture of some other substance ) but as earths
contain a salt, which might render the operation un¬
certain, he determined to use only the caput mortuum
of a former distillation of the same substance. For
this purpose, four pounds of a coagulum of human
blood being well mixed with a large quantity of this
residuum, and the whole dried in the sun, it was put
into a retort, and distilled with a fire, raised, towards
the end of the operation, to the utmost violence. The
oil being separated from the volatile spirit, the latter
was rectified j and the consequence was, that there
came over four pounds of a red acid liquor, that turn¬
ed the tincture of tournsol very red. All the distilla- Blood,
tions of the aqueous liquors already mentioned, obtain- —v——'
ed by similar processes, being mixed together, and
separated from their yet remaining oil, by careful dilu¬
tion with water and filtration, they were at length di¬
stilled together j the liquor that came over was clear
as water, and its first quantities contained a great deal
of volatile salt, but the last two ounces were found to
be as sour as distilled vinegar.—The same products
were obtained from the blood of carnivorous animals,
as well as from that of animals feeding solely upon ve¬
getables. 8
In Dr Lewis’s notes on Newman’s Chemistry we Dr Lewi*’®
have the following account of the blood, and the parts
into which it may be resolved. “ Recent blood is e-
qually fluid, and in taste somewhat saline. Viewed by
a microscope, it appears composed of numerous red
globules swimming in a transparent fluid. On standing
for a little time, it separates into a thick crassamentum
and fluid serum. By agitation, it continues fluid : A
consistent polypous matter adheres to the stirrer, which
by repeated ablution with wrater becomes white.—
Received from the vein in warm water, it deposites a
quantity of transparent filamentous matter, the red por¬
tion continuing dissolved in the water. On evaporating
the fluid, a red powdery substance is left.—It congeals
by frost, and becomes fluid again by warmth j after
liquefaction, it quickly putrefies.—Fluid and florid
hlood, exposed to a temperate air, putrifies sooner than
such as is more dense. Inspissated to dryness, it leaves a
dark-coloured mass, amounting, at a medium, to about
one fourth of the weight of the blood, of a bitter sa¬
line taste, easily inflammable, burning with a bluish
flame. The exsiccated blood is not soluble in acid or
alkaline liquors j but gives some tincture to water and
to spirit of wine, and is more powerfully acted upon by
dulcified spirit of nitre. Recent blood is coagulated
by the mineral acids, and by most of the combinations
of them with earthy and metallic bodies. With vege¬
table acids, and with solutions of neutral salts, it min¬
gles equably without coagulation. Alkalies, both fixed
and volatile, render it more fluid, and preserve it from
coagulating.
“ The serum of blood is more saline than the cras¬
samentum, and does not so speedily putrefy. It freezes
somewhat more difficultly than pure water j and its a-
queous part evaporates, by a gentle warmth, somewhat
more readily, leaving about one-twelfth of the weight
of the serum of a solid yellowish pellucid matter. Ex¬
posed to heat a little greater than that of the human
body, it coagulates into a solid mass, without any con¬
siderable evaporation. Both this coagulum and the in¬
spissated serum are readily inflammable in the fire, not
dissoluble in water, or in spirits of wine, in acid or in
alkaline liquors.” ^
But the texture of the blood discoverable by a mi-Texture of '
croscope, hath engaged the attention of the learned blood
much more than the chemical analysis ever did. Leeu- ^
wenhoek was the first who discovered, or fancied he dis-vven]loe^a>
covered, that the blood, as it exists in the body of an
animal, consists of a quantity of red globular particles
swimming in a large quantity of transparent liquor.
Each of these globules, he imagined, was temposed of
six smaller ones packed together. While the six con¬
tinued to adhere, their colour was red $ but when se- -
paratedjA
B L O
Blood.
10
According
to Father
de Torre.
XI
According
to Mr
Hewgoa.
parated, they became yellow, and thus formed what is
called the serum, tte even pretended to have disco¬
vered that each of the serous globules consisted of six
smaller ones, and that these when broken down con¬
stituted some more subtile and penetrating liquor than
the serum, &c. I his was for a long time received al¬
most universally as an undoubted fact j and many theo¬
ries were built upon it, and elaborate calculations
made, of which (we hope) no account needs now be
given, as the falsity of these pretended discoveries is
generally allowed. Father de Torre, with microscopes
which he pretended were capable of magnifying to an
incredible degree, found that the red particles of the
blood were of an annular figure, with a perforation
in the middle j and that the ring itself was formed of
several joints. Some of these extraordinary magni¬
fiers, however, being sent over to England, those who
were appointed by the Royal Society to make trial of
them found them totally useless, so that the credit of
Father de Torre’s discoveries must have rested princi¬
pally on his own evidence. The falsity of his hypo¬
thesis, as well as that of Leeuwenhoek, was detected
by the late IVlr Hewson, whose microscopical experi¬
ments on the blood being the latest that have appeared,
we shall transcribe the following particular account of
them, given by himself in a letter to Dr Haygarth phy¬
sician in Chester. “ The red particles of the blood,
improperly called globules, are flat in all animals, and
of very difterent sizes in different animals. In man
they are small, as flat as a shilling, and appear to have
a dark spot in the middle. In order to see them di¬
stinctly, I dilute the blood with fresh serum. My pre¬
decessors, not having thought of this, could not see
them distinctly. And Leeuwenhoek in particular, ima¬
gining a round figure fittest for motion, concluded they
must be round in the human body ; though be and
others allowed that in frogs, &c. where they viewed
them distinctly from the blood being thinner, they were
flat. Now I prove that they are flat in all animals.
In the human blood, where these particles are small,
it is difficult to determine what that black spot is which
appears in the centre of each. Some have concluded
that it was a perforation : but in a frog, where it is
six times as large as in a man, it is easy to show that it
is not a perforation, but on the contrary is a little
solid, which is contained in the middle of a vesicle.
Instead, therefore, of calling this part of the blood
red globules, I should call it red vesicles; for each par¬
ticle is a flat vesicle, with a little solid sphere in its
centre.
“ I find that the blood of all animals contains vesi¬
cles of this sort. In human blood there are millions
of them ; and they give it the red colour. But in in¬
sects they are white, and less numerous in proportion
than in man and quadrupeds. As they are flat in all
animals, I suspect that shape is a circumstance of im¬
portance, but can be altered by a mixture with diffe¬
rent fluids. And I find that it is by a determinate
quantity of neutral salt contained in the serum that
this fluid is adapted to preserving these vesicles in their
flat shape: for, if they be mixed with water, they be¬
come round, and dissolve perfectly ; but add a little of
any neutral salt to the water, and they remain in it,
without any alteration in their shape, and without dis¬
solving.
f 744 ]
B L O
“ Now, when it is considered, that the blood of all
animals is filled with these particles, we must believe <
that they serve some very important purpose in the ani¬
mal economy j and since they are so complicated in
their structure, it is improbable they should be made
by mechanical agitation in the lungs or blood-vessels,
as has been suspected, but probably have some organs
set apart for their formation. This I shall endeavour
to prove, when I have explained their structure a little
more particularly, and mentioned the manner in which
I exhibit it. I take the blood of a toad or frog, in
which they are very large ; I mix it with the serum of
human blood to dilute it; I find them appear all flat;
so they do in the blood-vessels of this animal, as I have
distinctly seen in the web between its toes, whilst the
animal was alive and fixed in the microscope. Their
appearance in these animals is not unlike slices of cu¬
cumber. I next mix a little of the blood with water,
which immediately makes them all round, and then be¬
gins to dissolve them whilst they are round. I incline
the stage of the microscope, so as to make them roll
down it; and then I can distinctly see the solid in the
middle fall from side to side like a pea in a bladder.
A neutral salt added to them at this time brings them
back to their flat shape : but if the salt be not added,
the water gradually dissolves away the vesicle j and then
the little sphere is left naked. Such is the composi¬
tion of these particles. I have exhibited these experi¬
ments to a considerable number of my acquaintance,
who all agree in their being satisfactory.
“ Th® microscope I use is a single lens, and there¬
fore as little likely to deceive us as a pair of spectacles,
which, as is allowed by all who use them, do not dis¬
figure objects, but only represent them larger.
Irom farther experiments, I am convinced, that
the use of the thymus and lymphatic glands is to make
the middle solid pieces: and I can prove it in as satis¬
factory manner as you can do the use of any viscus in
the human body j that is, by opening these glands, and
examining the fluid contained in their cells, which I
find to be full of these little solids. I moreover find,
that the lymphatic vessels take them up from those
glands, and convey them into the blood-vessels, which
carry them to the spleen, in whose cells they have the
vesicles laid over them 5 so that the thymus and lym¬
phatic glands make the central particles, and the
spleen makes the vesicles that surround them. That
this is the use of the spleen appears from examining the
lymph which is returned from its lymphatic vessels 5 for
that lymph, contrary to what is observed in other parts
of the body, is extremely red.
“ But besides having these glands set apart for ma¬
king the red vesicles of the blood, I find that they are
also made in the lymphatic vessels in different parts of
the body, whose coats have blood-vessels properly con¬
structed^ for this secretion. So that the thymus and
lymphatic glands are no more than appendages of the
lymphatic system, for making the middle particles ;
and the spleen an appendage to the lymphatic vessels,
lor making the vesicles which contain these middle par¬
ticles.
“ I conjecture that it is the coagulable lymph which
is converted into this red part of the blood, from a cu¬
rious fact that has long been known : namely, that the
blood in the splenic vein does not coagulate when ex¬
posed
Blood.
B L O [ 745 ] B
Blood, posed te the air, as the blood of other veins does ; so while others judge them
‘ that it seems to be robbed of its coagulable lymph in ’ ’ ’
] u
0>| ectioti
tahis hy-
pdteus.
, *3
O lion of
Di Wilson
] *4
OflrCul-
lel
passing through the spleen
“ It is very remarkable, that the spleen can be cut
out of an animal, and the animal do ivell without it. I
made the experiment on a dog, and kept him a year and
a half without observing his health to be in the least im¬
paired. From this some have concluded the spleen to
be an useless weight; which is absurd, when we consider
that all animals with red blood have it. Therefore it
is more consistent with what we know of the animal
economy, to conclude, that since an animal can do well
without it, there is probably some part of the body that
can supply its place.
“ Insects have vesicles constructed in a similar way
to ours, but differing in colour. But insects have nei¬
ther spleen, thymus, nor lymphatic glands; and there¬
fore in them probably these vesicles are entirely fabrica¬
ted in the lymphatic vessels. But to us, and other of
the more perfect animals, besides the lymphatic vessels,
nature has given those glands, that a proper quantity of
these important vesicles might be the better secured to
us; just as she has given us two ears, the better to secure
us hearing through life, though we can hear perfectly
well with one.”
This letter, we apprehend, contains the strength of
Mr Hewson’s evidence for his hypothesis; on which
we shall only remark, that if the red globules are pre¬
pared in the manner above mentioned, and the lym¬
phatic vessels are excretories of those glands where the
red particles are formed ; then if there is any vessel
where all these excretories unite, in that vessel the lymph
ought to appear very red, on account of the accumu¬
lated quantity of red globules brought thither from
all parts of the body. But no such redness seems ever
to have been taken notice of by any anatomist: this
therefore must be an objection to Mr Hewson’s hypo¬
thesis ; and such a one, perhaps, as will not be easily
removed.
Many other hypotheses have been invented concern-
ing the formation of the red blood, and various opi¬
nions delivered concerning its red colour. In a lecture
delivered at Newcastle in 1773, by Dr Wilson of that
place, he asserts “ that it is self evidently the office of
the veins to elaborate the fluids into that form and
composition which we know by the name of red bloody
The self-evidence, here, however, is by no means appa¬
rent to us ; nor doth he at all point it out in an intel¬
ligible manner.—Dr Cullen, in his physiological part
ol The Institutions of Medicine, acknowledges that
we know but little of the formation of any of the ani¬
mal fluids ; and concerning the microscopical observa¬
tions, &c. on the blood, he gives his opinion in the follow¬
ing words, § ccliv. “ I he red globules have been con¬
sidered as an oily matter, and from thence their distinct
and globular appearance has been accounted for : but
there is no direct proof of their oily nature ; and their
ready union with, and diffusibility in, water, renders
it very improbable. As being microscopical objects
only, they have been represented by different persons
very differently. Some have thought them spherical
bodies, but divisible into six parts, each of which in its
separate state was also spherical ; but other persons
have not observed them to be thus divisible. To many
observers they have appeared as perfectly spherical ;
Vol. III. Part II. ' r |
L O
„ „ to be oblate spheroids, or Blood.
lenticular. To some they have appeared as annular,' v——J
and to others as containing a hollow vesicle. All this,
with several other circumstances relating to them, very
variously represented, show some uncertainty in micro¬
scopical observations; and it leaves me, who am not
conversant in such observations, altogether uncertain
with respect to the precise nature of this part of the
blood. The chemical history of it is equally precari¬
ous ; and, therefore, what has been hitherto said of the
production and changes happening to these red glo-
bules, we choose to leave untouched.—We suppose that He ac-
the red globules, when viewed singly, have very littlecou“ts ,or
colour ; and that it is only when a certain number ofoi'thTblood
them are laid upon one another, that the colour ap-fr0m the
pears of a bright red : but this also hath its limils ; sonumher of
that when the number of globules laid on one anotherre^ Parti-
is considerable, the colour becomes of a darker red.^?®^0”'.
Upon this supposition, the colour of the mass of blood aIU< n ll
will be brighter or darker as the colouring part is more
or less diffused among the other parts of the mass ;
and we think this appears to be truly the case from
every circumstance that attends the changes which
have been at any time observed in the colour of the
blood.” I(S-
Concerning the uncertainty of microscopical as well Colour of
as chemical experiments, we shall not dispute ; thought1ie 1)lood
the conclusion against them seems carried too far.
with regard to the colour of the blood, we apprehend the action
it hath been known, almost, if not altogether, since the of the air.
discovery of the circulation, that the florid or dark co¬
lour depends on the presence or absence of air, and not
upon any number of globules. Thus the blood re¬
turning from the veins is of a dark colour. Though di¬
luted with the fresh chyle from the subclavian vein, it
continues of the same dark colour till it passes through
the lungs, upon which it instantly assumes a very florid
red ; but it can never be proved that the globules in
the pulmonary vein are at all less numerous than in the
pulmonary artery.—That this change of colour may be
effected by the air through membranes much thicker
than we can suppose the vessels of the lungs to be, has
been demonstrated by Dr Priestley, but whether the
change is occasioned by the mere separation of some
principle from the blood, or by the absorption of another
in its stead, is not yet determined, though the latter is
indeed acknowledged by Dr Priestley himself to be the
more probable opinion. He even supposes the redness
to be owing to a portion of dephlogisticated air absorb¬
ed in the lungs. It must therefore be the elastic prin^
ciple of this air, winch is absorbed, while the other
combined with part of the phlogiston emitted by the
blood is converted into fixed air.
I his leads us to consider the uses to which the blood Uses1 of the
is subservient in the animal economy, and the changes Wood in
that happen to it in respiration. The uses of this fluid ^‘‘uals.
are so various, and of such an important nature, vital
some have not scrupled to affirm the blood to be actu prinJple
ally possessed of a living principle, and that the life ofthought by
the whole body is derived from it. This opinion wassome 10 re-
first broached by the celebrated Harvey, the discoverer "^ iu lhe
of the circulation : but in this he was never much fol- ^
lowed ; and the hypothesis itself, indeed, has been
pretty much laid aside and neglected, till of late that
it was revived by Mr J. Hunter, professor of anatomy
5 B in
* / A
B L o [ 746 ] B L O
T51ojd. in London. This gentleman supports his opinion l>y
'/——'the following arguments: 1. The blood unites living
Mr Hun. Pai t3> i’1 some circumstances, as certainly as the yet re-
ter’s ar^u- ce.nt jl,ices the branch of one tree unite it with that
merits in of another. Were either of these fluids to he consi-
iayour of dered as extraneous or dead matters, he thinks they
nion0pI' 'voulcl .act as stimuli? and no union would take place iii
the animal or vegetable kingdom. This argument, Mr
Hunter imagines, is still farther established by the fol¬
lowing experiment. Having taken off the testicle from
a living cock, he introduced it into the belly of a li¬
ving hen. Many weeks afterwards, upon injecting the,
liver of the hen, he injected the testicle of the cock ;
which had come in contact with the liver, and adhered
to it. He alleges, that in the nature of things, there
is not a more intimate connection between life and a
solid, than between life and a fluid. For although we
are more accustomed to connect it with the one^ than
the other, yet the only real difference which can he
shown between a solid and a fluid is, that the particles
of the one are less moveable among themselves than
those of the other. Besides, we often see the same body
fluid in one case and solid in another. 2. The blood
becomes vascular like other living parts. Mr Hunter
affirms, that, after amputations, the coagula in the ex¬
tremities of arteries may be injected by injecting these
arteries j and he has a preparation in which he thinks
he can demonstrate vessels rising from the centre of
what had been a coagulum of blood, and opening into
the stream of the circulating blood. 3. Blood taken
from the arm in the most intense cold which the human
body can bear, raises the thermometer to the same
height as blood taken in the most sultry heat. This he
considers as a strong proof of the blood’s being alive;
as living bodies alone have the power of resisting great
degrees both of heat and cold, and of maintaining in
almost every situation, while in health, that tempera¬
ture which we distinguish by the name of animal heat.
4. Blood is capable of being acted upon by a stimulus.
In proof of this, he observes, that it coagulates from ex¬
posure, as certainly as the cavities of the abdomen and
thorax inflame from the same cause. The more it is
alive, that is, the more the animal is in health, it coa¬
gulates the sooner on exposure ; and the more it has lost
of its living principle, as in the case of violent inflam¬
mations, the less is it sensible to the stimulus produced
from its being exposed, and it coagulates the later.
5. The blood preserves life in different parts of the
body. When the nerves going to a part are tied or
cut, the part becomes paralytic, and loses all power of
motion ; but it does not mortify. If the artery be cut,
the part dies, and mortification ensues. What keeps it
alive in the first case ? Mr Hunter believes it is the
living principle which alone can keep it alive; and he
thinks that this phenomenon is inexplicable on any other
supposition, than that life, is supported by the blood.
6. Another argument he draws from the case of a frac¬
tured os humeri he had occasion to observe. A man
was brought into St George’s hospital for a simple
fracture of the os humeri, and died about a month
after the accident. As the bones had not united, Mr
Hunter injected the arm after death. He found that
the cavity between the extremities of the bones was fill¬
ed up with blood which had coagulated. This blood
was become vascular. In some places it was very much
2 * -
so. He does not maintain that all coagulated blood he- Blood.
comes vascular : and indeed the reason is obvious ; for ' ,- /
it is olten thrown out and coagulated in parts where its
becoming vascular could answer no end in the system :
as, lor example, in the cavities of aneurismal sacs. If it
be supposed, that, in such cases as that just now men¬
tioned, the vessels are not formed in the coagulum,
but come from the neighbouring arteries, he thinks it
equally an argument that the blood is alive ; for the
substance into which vessels shoot must be so. The
very idea that such a quantity of dead matter as the
whole mass of blood circulates in a living body, appears
to him absurd.
The system which at present stands opposed to that Nervous
ol Mr Hunter, considers the brain and nervous system s>stem
as the fountain of life ; and that, so far from receiving a*onei
its life from the blood, the nervous system is capable 0f^louf?111
instantaneously changing the crasis of the blood, or any contaTn the
other animal fluid ; and though the nervous system can-vital prin-
not continue its action for any length of time if the c>pk.
action of the blood-vessels is suspended, yet the heart
and blood-vessels cannot act for a single moment with¬
out the influence of the nervous fluid. Hence, say they,
it is plain, we must suppose the nervous system, and not
the blood, to contain properly the life of the animal,
and consequently to he the principal vital organ. The
secretion of the vital fluid from the blood by means of
the brain, is, by the supporters of this hypothesis, de¬
nied. They say, that any fluid secreted from the blood
must be aqueous, inelastic, and inactive; whereas the
nervous fluid is full of vigour, elastic, and volatile in
the highest degree. The great necessity for the circu¬
lation ot the blood through all parts of the body, not¬
withstanding the presence of the nervous fluid in the
same parts, they say is, because some degree of tension
is necessary to be given to the fibres, in order to fit
them for the influx of the nervous fluid ; and this
tension they receive from the repletion of the blood¬
vessels, which are everywhere dispersed alone with the
nerves.
To follow this dispute through every argument that pccJ;*ear.
hath been, or that may be, used by both parties, would guments in
prove tedious, and to us appears in a great measure favour of
unnecessary, as the following short considerations seem
to decide the matter absolutely against the patrons of0pl*
the nervous system. In the first place, then, if we can
prove the life of the human body to have existed in, or
to have been communicated from a fluid to the nervous
system, the analogical argument will be very strongly
in favour of the supposition that the case is so still.
Now, that the case once was so, is most evident; for
the human body, as well as the body of every other li¬
ving creature, in its first state, is well known to be a
gelatinous mass, without muscles, nerves, or blood-ves¬
sels. Nevertheless, this gelatinous matter, even at that
time, contained the nervous fluid. Of this there can
be no doubt, because the nerves were formed out of it,
and had their power originally from it; and what is re¬
markable, the brain is observed to be that part of the
animal rvhich is first formed. Of this gelatinous fluid
we can give no other account, than that it was the nu¬
tritious matter from which the whole body appears to
be formed. At the original formation of man, and other
animals, therefore, the nutritious matter was the substra¬
tum of the whole body, consisting of muscles, nerves,
, blood-
B L O
see Elec-
'city.
blood-vessels, &c. nay more, it was the immediate effi¬
cient cause of the nervous power itself. Why should it
not be so now as well as then ! Again, in the forma¬
tion of the embryo, we see a vita! principle existing as
it were at large, and forming to itself a kind of regu¬
lator to its own motions, or a habitation in which it
chooses to reside, rather than to act at random in the
fluid. 1 his habitation, or regulator, was undoubtedly
the nervous system, and continues so to this moment;
hut at the same time, it is no less evident that a nutri¬
tious fluid was the immediate origin of these same nerves,
and of that very nervous fluid. Now we know, that the
fluid which in the womb nourishes the bodies of all em¬
bryo animals, is necessarily equivalent to the blood which
nourishes the bodies of adult ones; and consequently,
as soon as the blood became the only nutritious juice of
tne body, at the same time the vital or nervous fluid
took up its residence there, and from the blood diffused
itself along the nerves, where it was regulated exactly
according to the model originally formed in the em¬
bryo. Perhaps it may be said, that tiie vital power,
'vhen once it bath taken possession of the human or any
other body, requires no addition or supply, but conti¬
nues thei'e in the same quantity from first to last. If
we suppose the nervous power to be immaterial, this
will indeed be the case, and there is an end of reason-
ing upon the subject; but if we call this power a vola¬
tile and elastic fluid, it is plain that there will be more
occasion for recruits to such a power than to any other
fluid of the body, as its volatility and elasticity will
promote its escape in great quantities through every
part of the body. It may also be objected, that it is
absurd to suppose any fluid, or mechanical cause, capa¬
ble of putting matter in such a form as to direct its
own motions in a particular way : but even of this we
have a positive proof in the case of the electric fluid.
I'or if any quantity of this matter has a tendency to
go from one place to another where it meets with dif¬
ficulty, through the air for instance, it will throw small
conducting substances before it, in order to facilitate its
progress. Also, if a number of small and light con¬
ducting substances are laid between two metallic bo¬
dies, so as to form a circle, for example ; a shock of
electricity will destroy that circle, and place the small
conducting substances nearer to a straight line between
the two metals, as if the fluid knew there was a shorter
passage, and resolved to take that, if it should have oc¬
casion to return *. Lastly, it is universally allowed,
that the brain is a secretory organ, made up of an in¬
finite number of small glands, which have no other ex-
cretories than the medullary fibres and nerves. As a
considerable quantity of blood is carried to tbe brain,
and the minute arteries end in these small glands, it fol¬
lows, that the fluid, whatever it is, must come from the
blood. Now, there is no gland whatever, in the hu¬
man, or any other body, but will discharge the fluid it
is appointed to secrete, in a very considerable quantity,
if its excretory is cut. Upon the cutting of a nerve,
therefore, the fluid secreted by the brain ought to be
discharged ; but no such discharge is visible." A small
quantity of glairy matter is indeed discharged from the
large nerves 5 but this can be no other than the nutri¬
tious juice necessary for their support. This makes it
plain', even to demonstration, that the fluid secreted in
the brain is invisible in its nature ; and as we know the
[ 747 3
B L O
nervous fluid hath its residence in the brain, it is very B!o>d.
probable, to use no stronger impression, that it is the -—*r-~^
peculiar province of the brain to secrete this fluid from,
the blood, and consequently that the blood originally
contains the vital principle. 22
After it is allowed that the blood contains the vital Vivifying
principle, it becomes another question, not very easily sph'1 SUP-
solved, Whence is this vital principle derived ?—F°rdenied0 ^
this we can only discover two sources; namely, the chyle fl.om tile
or aliment from which the blood is prepared, and re-air.
spiration. The latter hath been commonly held as the
principal source of the vital principle ; and, for a long
time, it was generally thought that there was a kind of
vivifying spirit in the air, which being absorbed by the
blood at each inspiration, communicated to that fluid
the quality necessary for preserving animal life. As a
proof of this it was urged, that life cannot be supported
without respiration, and that air which hath been often
breathed ceases to be capable of supporting life ; be¬
cause when once it has been totally deprived of its vi¬
vifying spirit, it can communicate none to the blood in 2>3
any subsequent respirations.-—This doctrine, however, This doc-
hath been denied, and generally thought to be explod- tr^ne
ed by modern discoveries. Dr Hales brings severalsome u,i/ie
experiments against it; of which the following may^enie(1
serve lor a specimen, and which we shall give in his
own words.
“ I tied a middle-sized dog alive on a table, and, Qr fities’s
having laid bare his windpipe, I cut it asunder just be-experiment
low the larynx, and fixed fast to it the small end of a against a
common fosset: the other end of the fosset had a large vi.vi.fyin£
bladder tied to it, which contained 162 cubic inches ;
and to the other end of the bladder was tied the great S(lyS voj
end of another fosset whose orifice was covered with ap. 255.
valve that opened inwards, so as to admit any air that
was blown into the bladder, but none could return that
way ; yet, for further security, that passage was also
stopped by a spigot.
“ As soon as the first fosset was tied fast to the wind¬
pipe, the bladder was blown full of air through the
other losset; when the dog had breathed the air in the
bladder to and fro for a minute or two, he then breath- \
ed very fast, and showed great uneasiness, as being al¬
most suflocated.
“ Then with my hand I pressed the bladder hard, so
as to drive the air into his lungs with some force; and
thereby made his abdomen rise by the pressure of the
diaphragm, as in natural breathings; then taking alter¬
nately my hand oft the bladder, the lungs with the ab¬
domen subsided : I continued in this manner to make
the dog breathe for an hour ; during which time, I was
obliged to blow fresh air into the bladder every five
minutes, three parts in four of that air being either .
absorbed by the vapours in the lungs, or escaping
through the ligatures upon my pressing hard on the
bladder.
“ During this hour, the dog was frequently near ex¬
piring, whenever I pressed the air but weakly into his
lungs ; as I found by bis pulse, which was very plain to
lie felt in the great crural artery near the groin, which
place an assistant held his finger on most part of the
time : but the languid pulse was accelerated so as to
beat fast, soon after I dilated the lungs much by pres¬
sing hard upon the bladder; especially when the mo¬
tion of the lungs was promoted by pressing alternately
5 B 2 tU
33!ood.
Dr Priest-
Jey’s opi¬
nion.
E L
the abdomen ami the bladder,
traction and dilatation of the lungs were increased
“ And I could by this means rouse the languid pulse
whenever I pleased, not only at the end of every five
minutes, when more air was blown into the bladder
from a man’s lungs, but also towards the end of the five
minutes, when the air was fullest of fumes.
“ At the end of the hour, I intended to try whether
I could have by the same means kept the dog alive some
time longer, when the bladder was filled with the fumes
of burning brimstone } but being obliged to cease for a
little time from pressing the air into his lungs, while
matters were preparing for this additional experiment,
in the mean time the dog died, which might otherwise
have lived longer if I had continued to force the air in¬
to the lungs.
“ Now, though this experiment was so frequently
disturbed, by being obliged to blow more air into the
bladder 12 times during the hour; yet since he was al¬
most suffocated in less than two minutes, by breathing
of himself to and fro the first air in the bladder, he
would have died in less than two minutes when one-
fourth of the old air remained in the bladder immedi¬
ately to taint the new air admitted from a man’s lungs ;
so that his continuing to live through the whole hour,
must be owing to the forcible dilatation of the lungs by
compressing the bladder, and not to the vivifying spirit
of the air.”
Dr Priestley at first concluded from his own obser¬
vations, and no doubt very justly, that air which hath
been often breathed becomes pernicious by its accumu¬
lated phlogiston, stimulating the lungs, and making
the animal fall into convulsions. Respiration, there¬
fore, he supposed to be a phlogistic process, in which
the blood parts with its superfluous phlogiston. He
did not say, that the blood receives nothing in ex¬
change ; but rather that it may receive some nitrous
Blood.
2.6
Dr Hales’s
experiment
inconclu¬
sive.
principle, which gives it the red colour; but as to
a vivifying spirit, he doth not appear to have the least
idea of any such thing being received at that time.
Nay, in his first volume, p. 277. he expressly adopts
the other hypothesis, namely, that the vital principle
is received from the chyle. “ My conjecture (says he)
is, that animals have a power of converting phlogiston,
from the state in which they receive it in their nutri¬
ment, into that state in which it is called the electrical
fluid; that the brain, besides its other proper uses, is
the great laboratory and repository for this purpose ;
that by means of the nerves, this great principle, thus
exalted, is directed into the muscles, and forces them
to act in the same manner as they are forced into
action, when the electric fluid is thrown in them ab
extra.
These theories were opposed in the former edition
of this work. With regard to Dr Hales’s opinion,
that the want of elasticity, or pressure, is the reason
why phlogisticated air cannot support animal life, wre
apprehended it to be totally inconclusive, because it
doth not at all appear that phlogisticated air wants
elasticity ; on the contrary, from Dr Priestley’s ex¬
periments, it appears to be more elastic than common
air. Besides, we know that the elasticity of every fluid
must always be in proportion to the pressure upon it, as
reaction is always equal to action. Supposing there¬
fore the elasticity of any portion of air to be destroyed,
O [ 748 ] B L O
whereby both the con- the pressure of the superincumbent atmosphere will re¬
duce it into a proportionably less bulk, and then it is
equally elastic with the rest; for if it was not, it would
behove it still to yield under the pressure. Hence we
may see, that as the bladder made use of in Dr Hales’s
experiment was by no means sufficient to keep oft’ the
pressure of the external atmosphere, the death of the
dog could not be fairly ascribed to want of elasticity in
the tainted air. When he applied more force than the
natural elasticity of the air, he kept the dog alive, as he
calls it, for an hour; but we can by no means allow a
mechanical circulation of the blood to be life, any more
than we can allow a dead body to be alive on account of
the motion of its arm or any other member by mecha¬
nical means. The experiment, however, is valuable,
because it shows that respiration is one of the immediate
mechanical agents by which the circulation of the blood
is carried on ; but in order to prove that the dog was
really kept alive by this means, he ought to have re¬
covered from the effects of the experiment. Had Dr
Hales tried a similar experiment on himself, by taking
the fosset in his mouth, closing his nostrils, and causing
another person compress the bladder, we have not the
least doubt that he would then have felt such a method
of breathing not to be a way of preserving life, but of
destroying it.
As to Dr Priestley’s conclusions, it was argued, that Cain/of
“ though he found air diminished by admitting phlo-the dimino.
giston to it, Dr Priestley finds the mere accession of anytion of ai.r
material substance can never diminish, but must increase,
its bulk. The diminution, therefore, on the accession of ’
phlogiston, is an evident proof that some part of the air
is actually taken away. That the phlogiston received
is not incorporated with the air is likewise evident, as
well as that it takes up space in the tainted air, be¬
cause, by agitation in water, the phlogistic matter se¬
parates from the air, and enters into the water. The
consequence of this is, that the air is still farther dimi¬
nished in bulk ; and what remains is pure air, fit for
supporting animal life, and of being farther diminished
by phlogiston as before. It appears also certain, that
phlogiston is not endowed with any inherent power by
which it can expand itself; otherwise it would fly off
in vacuo, which it is never known to do. Another cir¬
cumstance we must also attend to is, that the action of
phlogiston seems to be entirely confined to a particular
part of the atmosphere ; namely, that which is now so
well known by the name offixed air. This it entirely
deprives of its elastic principle, so that it is actually no
longer air, but becomes a solid substance, making a part,
and that no inconsiderable one, of innumerable terres¬
trial substances, as chalk, limestone, &c.
That the justness of the conclusion about to be
drawn from Dr Priestley’s experiments may be more
apparent, the phenomena were summed up in the two
following propositions. “ 1. Phlogiston cannot act by
itself without the assistance of air. 2. The emission of
phlogiston is attended with the total destruction of the
elasticity of a certain quantity of fixed air, which then
ceases to be fluid. Hence we affirm, that it is not the 2g
phlogistic substance which acts upon the air, but the why a
elastic principle in the fixed air contained in the com-phlogistic
mon atmosphere that acts on the phlogistic substance.•slI*)Stanf®
This elastic principle, entering the phlogistic body,
displaces a quantity of phlogiston equivalent to its own,^' ^
quantity,
B L O [ 749 ] B L O
Blood.
le air.
quantity, and takes its place : and hence proceeds the
first diminution of the air, not from an accession of
phlogiston, but from an escape of the elastic principle
belonging to fixed air. The phlogiston and fixed par¬
ticles of the air now hang loose like smoke or vapour,
and are ready to be attracted by any thing capable of
imbibing them; and hence proceeds the second diminu-
29 tion by agitation in water.
KepUonV , ^ ^°W t0.aj)pI v tllis reason*ng to the point in question:
te vivify- ^ blood is found to emit phlogiston from the lungs
ig princi- at every exspiration : therefore we affirm it hath recei-
lefrom ved a proportional quantity of elastic vapour which it
had not before. Again : The air expelled from the
lungs is found to contain much of the fixable part
floating loose, and capable of being attracted bv lime-
water, &c.; therefore we say, this elastic principle hath
come from that part of the atmosphere. But, to put
the matter beyond doubt, the very inspection of arte¬
rial and venous blood will show, that the first hath a
quantity of elastic matter in it which the last wants;
and as the brain as well as all other parts of the body
are supplied with arterial blood, we think it abundantly
evident, that this elastic principle is absolutely and es¬
sentially necessary to life; that it is continually expend¬
ed thereon ; and that it may be said with the utmost
propriety, that every time we draw the air into our
lungs, we receive a portion of vivifying or vital spirit
from it into our blood. Add to all this, that many
substances which are commonly observed to phlogisti-
cate air, appear to receive an elastic spirit by so doing.
Putrefying bodies swell; they would not do "so in va¬
cuo; and therefore we must conclude, that they receive
this elastic principle which swells them from the exter¬
nal air; and experience shows that it is communicated
by this fixable part of the atmosphere.
“ The foregoing reasoning, which to us appeared
sufficiently conclusive, leads to a very important disco¬
very in natural philosophy, viz. That it is to the at¬
mosphere, and to that particular part of it which goes
by the name of fixed air^ that we are every moment in¬
debted for that vital spirit which animates our bodies,
and is the immediate bond of union betwixt our imma¬
terial spirit and this visible world. It may be asked in¬
deed, If fixed air is capable of supplying this spirit in
such plenty, how comes it to be so instantaneously fatal
when breathed P The reply to this, however, is obvious:
it communicates too great a degree of elasticity to the
blood ; whence the circulation is stopped, and instant
death ensues. I hat this is really the case, appears from
the following account of the symptoms observed on the
dissection of persons who have been suffocated by this
kind of air.
“ r. The vessels of the brain are gorged with blood,
and the ventricles of that viscus are filled sometimes
with a frothy, sometimes with a bloody, serosity. 2. The
trunk of the pulmonary artery is much distended, and
the lungs appear nearly in a natural state. 3. The
right ventricle and auricle of the heart, the vense cava;,
and jugular veins, are full of frothy blood. 4. Bloody
Seated56 seros‘t} 's °^en f°und bi the bronchiae. 5. The trunk
b] xed air.01, the pulmonary veins, and the left auricle, are either
empty, or almost empty, of blood. 6. The blood
found in the places that have been mentioned is gene¬
rally fluid, and as it were in a dissolved state. It is
easily extravasated into the cellular texture, of the head
3°
(jection
1 were d.
particularly, because it is in this part that it abounds Blood,
most. 7. The epiglottis in suffocated persons is raised, ——v——*
and the glottis open and free. 8. The tongue is much
swelled, and can hardly be contained within the mouth.
9. The eyes protrude, and preserve their lustre to the
second or third day. They are often even brighter than
natural. 10. The body preserves its heat for a long
time. Nay the heat is sometimes greater than it is du¬
ring life, or at least consistently with health. 11. The
limbs are flexible for a long time after death. 12. The
face is more swelled, and often more red than usual.
13. The neck and upper extremities are sometimes so
much swelled, that they appear to be inflamed. These
swellings, however, do not, like oedematous ones, pre¬
serve the impressions of the finger.
“ This account seemed so much in favour of what we
had already advanced concerning the action of fixed SUpp0S€d
air, that no observation was made upon it farther than the cause
that this elastic principle would seem also to be theofanimal
cause of animal heat; for as the blood evidently re-lieal’
ceived a vast quantity of elastic fluid, it also received a
much greater proportion of heat than usual.”
Such was the mode of reasoning adopted at that This theory
time, derived from the discoveries which had been made corrected,
in Aerology. Succeeding discoveries, however, have
made it evident, that fixed air is not one of the natural
component parts of our atmosphere, but that it consists
of two different fluids ; one of which has been called
phlogisticated, the other dephlogistieated, air. It is the
latter which supplies the vital principle; and the above
reasoning still holds good, only substituting the words
dephlogisticated air for fixed air. The poisonous quality
of the latter seems also still to depend on its too easy
decomposition ; by which means the elastic principle is
discharged into the blood in such quantity as to burst
the small vessels, as has already been observed. This is
shown indeed by the remedies most proper for the re¬
covery of those who have suffered from the noxious qua¬
lities of fixed air. These consist in evacuation, and espe¬
cially sprinkling the body with cold water, in order to
take off the superfluous heat, and produce an universal
contraction of the vessels. ^
It now remains only to give some account of the Circulatioa
means by which the circulation of the blood is carried of ^
on in the living body. From the time of Harvey till how camed‘
very lately, this was supposed to be chiefly the muscu- 011"
lar power of the heart and arteries, which by some phy¬
siologists have been thought to be prodigiously great;
and accordingly many calculations, requiring n.o small
degree of mathematical knowledge to understand them,
have been made of the forces requisite to perform this
circulation. Other physiologists, however, have thought
proper to take in several auxiliary helps, as the motion
of the muscles, respiration, &c.; and from Dr Hales’s
experiment above mentioned, it appears that respira¬
tion hath a considerable influence in this matter. It
cannot, however, be the sole cause, seeing the circula¬
tion is carried on in animals which do not respire. In
1773, Dr Wilson, in the lecture already quoted, sug¬
gested a new principle of motion, which we believe was
never used before to account for the circulation of ani¬
mal fluids. It is shortly this: “ As the fluids of theNev(r3^
human body do all of them suffer a continual waste, and thesis by0*
consequently require a constant supply in proportion, Dr Wilson.,
we must look upon their going out of the body to be
the
B L O [ 750 ] B L O
Biood. tlie end of their motion, and on their entering into the
body to be the beginning of it; and hence we are to
look for the origin of all the motion of the fluids in that
part of the system where the new supplies are taken
in. This is the primae vise, where the lacteals ab¬
sorb a fluid from the digested aliment, and convey it
into the blood. The power by which this is accom¬
plished, is necessarily independent of the heart, as having
not the least connexion with it. It has been said to be
the same with that which causes fluids rise in the capil¬
lary tubes ; but though very probably the powers in both
cases may be the same, there is this remarkable differ¬
ence between them, that in the capillary tubes the
fluids only rise to a certain height, and will not rise at
all unless the tubes are empty. In the lacteals they
rise in vessels already full, and continue to do so. Nei-
tber is the force whereby this absorption is performed
to be accounted little ; seeing the supply by the chyle
must constantly be equal to the waste which is conti¬
nually taking place in the fluids already contained in
the vessels. We see also with what force an absorp¬
tion of this kind sometimes takes place in other cases;
thus ropes will absorb water with such strength as to
raise immense weights fastened to them, and which no
mechanical injection of water into small tubes could
possibly accomplish. W hat is already said of the lac¬
teals applies also to the lymphatics ; and from thence
we are almost tempted to conclude, that the case is the
. same with the sanguiferous veins also ; that though
there may be a continuation of some arteries into the
veins corresponding with them, yet that for the most
part these vessels extravasate the blood into small ca¬
vities, which is then taken up by the absorbent power
of the veins, and returned to the heart.
“ If, however, the vessels continued absolutely full,
it would, be impossible that any motion should be car¬
ried on in them ; and to continue and regulate the circu¬
lation, the heart with its cavities, is provided. Let us
suppose, that by the above-mentioned power the veins
are all full, and the auricles or chambers into which
the veins empty themselves are full also ; where is the
collected stream in the veins to go next ? There is no
room for more in the auricle. W hat must be done ?
The auricle contracts and empties itself. The conse¬
quence is a sudden vacuum equal to what the auricle
could contain ; the turgid veins, urged by the absorb¬
ing power above mentioned, rush their contents into
the auricle to fill up the vacuum again ; and all behind
moving in the venous direction advances forward with
so much force, that the veins near the heart sustain a
pulsation from the regurgitation of the impetuous
stream, when the auricle shuts upon it to empty itself.
In short, the full auricle occupies a determinate quan¬
tity of space in the breast: when it is emptied, there
is a non-resisting vacuum of so much space as was full
before, and thither there is a mechanical nisus from the
remotest filament of a vein over the whole body, which
becomes conspicuous in the torrent that rushes every
other moment from the mouth of the vena cava into
this vacuum.” s;
This is a short abstract of Dr Wilson’s new theory
of the circulation. According to him, this absorbing
power of the veins is the principal agent, while the
heart and arteries do no more than empty themselves
of the blood with which they are filled by the veins.
Even this cause, however, he says, would not he suffi- biU0(j
c;ent to carry on the circulation ior a single moment, —— _)
without the presence of another which he calls life, and
does not consider as absolutely unmechanical, though
we cannot reduce it either to mechanical rules or ideas.
But as we apprehend all speculations concerning such
causes must he arbitrary and without foundation, we
forbear to give any account of the doctor’s opinion on
this subject.
It hath been a general opinion, that blood, as it exists Bltwfeoa
m the bodies of animals, contains a considerable quantity tains no an
of common air; and indeed it is certain, that blood, af-wl,ile in the
ter it has been drawn from the veins of any animal, and ,)(,^k‘s of
afterwards placed under the receiver of an air-pump, am“lals'
yields a very considerable quantity of air upon exhaust¬
ing the receiver : but if a portion of any blood-vessel is
tied up so as to prevent the escape of its contents, and
then cut out of the body and placed under a receiver,
it will not swell, or show the least sign of its contain¬
ing any quantity of air whatever.
Blood was formerly held in great esteem as a medi-.
cine for some particular diseases. Baths of the blood ofand other
infants have been recommended as an infallible remedy uses of
for the elephantiasis, &c. ; and the blood of goats and Wood,
some other animals was used by the Galenists, and is
recommended even by Dr Mead in pleurisies : but the
first abominable medicine, as well as the other, is now
deservedly exploded. The principal use of blood in
the arts is for making Prussian blue, or sometimes for
clarifying certain liquors ; it is also recommended in
agriculture as an excellent manure for fruit-trees. A
mixture of blood with lime makes an exceedingly strong
cement; and hence it is of use in the preparation of
some chemical lutes, the making floors*, &c. As
food it hath been disputed whether blood really affordsII(!- ’
any nourishment or not. The best judges, now, how¬
ever, are generally agreed that it is very nutritious ;
and though out of the body, like the white of an egg,
it is very insoluble, yet, like that too, in the body it is
commonly of easy digestion. It is, however, highly
alkalescent in hot climates : on which account the pro¬
hibition of it to the Israelites was very proper. Even
in this countx-y, when blood was used as food in great
quantity, the scurvy was more frequent than at other
times; but to a moderate use of it here no such objec¬
tion takes place.
In some countries, we are told that the barbarians
were accustomed to intoxicate themselves by drinking
the warm blood of animals ; and as it has been shown
that this fluid is the immediate reservoir of the vi¬
tal principle, it seems by no means improbable that
it may he possessed of an inebriating quality. Some
expressions in Scripture seem to countenance this hypo¬
thesis.
Religious uses of Blood. Among the ancients blood
was used for the sealing and ratifying covenants and
alliances, which was done by the contx-acting parties
drinking a little of each others blood ; and for appea¬
sing the manes of the dead ; in order to which blood
was offered on their tombs as part of the funeral ce¬
remony.
The blood of victims was anciently the portion of
the gods; and accordingly was poured or sprinkled on
the altars in oblation to them.
The priests made another use of blood, viz. for divina¬
tion :
B L O [ 75i ] B L O
tion : the streaming of blood from the earth, fire, ami
the like, was held a prodigy or omen 0! evil.
The Roman priests were not unacquainted with- the
use of blood in miracles j they had their fluxes of blood
from images, ready to serve a turn ; witness that said
to have streamed from the statue of Minerva at Mo¬
dena, before the battle at that place. But we know
not whether in this their successors have not gone be¬
yond them. How many relations in ecclesiastical wri¬
ters of Madonas, crucifixes, and wafers, bleeding ?
At least the liquefaction of the blood of St Januarius
at Naples, repeated annually, for so many ages, seems
to transcend by far all the frauds of the Grecian or Ro¬
man priesthood. But the chemists at last got into the
secret', and we find M. Neumann at Berlin to have
performed the mirableof the liquefaction of dried blood,
with all the circumstances of the Neapolitan experi¬
ment.
Among the schoolmen we find a famous dispute, un¬
der Pope Pius II. whether the blood of Christ, which
fell from him in the three days passion, retained or lost
the hypostatic union ; and consequently whether it was
the proper object of adoration. The Dominicans main¬
tained the former, the Franciscans the latter. It seems
the Dominican doctrine gained the ascendant, as being
fitted to favour the profits of the monks ; who becom¬
ing possessed some way or other of a few drops of this
precious liquor, were secured of ample offerings from
the deluded laity, who flocked to pay their homage to
the sacred relic. Joseph of Arimathea is said to have
first brought into Britain two silver vessels filled with the
blood of Christ, which by his order was buried in his
tomb. King Henry III. had a crystal, containing a
portion of the same blood, sent him by the master of
the temple of Jerusalem, attested with the seals of the
patriarch which treasure the king committed to the
church of St Peter’s, Westminster, and obtained from
the bishops an indulgence of six years and 116 days to
all that should visit it. Mat. Paris even assures us, that
the king summoning his nobles and prelates to cele¬
brate the feast of St Edward in St Peter’s church, was
chiefly pro veneraticne sancti sanguinis Christi nuper
adept!, “ in veneration of the holy blood of Christ late¬
ly acquired.” Divers others of our monasteries were
possessed of this profitable relic ; as the college of Bons
Hommes at Ashridge, and the abbey of Hales, to whom
it was given by Henry, son of Richard duke of Corn¬
wall and king of the Romans. To it resorted a great
concourse of people for devotion and adoration ; till in
1538, as the Reformation took place, it was perceived
to be only honey clarified and coloured with saf¬
fron, as was shown at St Paul’s cross by the bishop of
Rochester. The like discovery was made of the blood
of Christ, found among the relics in the abbey of Fes-
champ in Normandy, pretended to have been preserved
by Nicodemus, when he took the body from the cross,
and given to that abbey by William duke of Norman¬
dy ; it was buried by his son Richard, and again dis¬
covered in 11 71, and attended with different miracles j
but the cheat, which had been long winked at, was
at length exposed, the relation of which is given by
Speed.
Avenger of Blood, among the Jews, was the next
of kin to the person murdered, who was to pursue the
murderer.
Ecclesiastical judges retire, when judgment is to be
given in cases oj blood, by reason the church is supposed
to abhor blood : it condemns no person to death ', and
its members become irregular, or disabled from their
functions-, by the effusion of blood.
Field of Blood, in Syriac Aceldama, was a field pur¬
chased by the Jews with the thirty pieces of silver
which had been given to Judas for betraying his ma¬
ster, and which he had restored. It still serves for a
burial-ground, in which all pilgrims who die in their
pilgrimage at Jerusalem, are interred.
BLOOD-Ilound, in Zoology, the canis sagax of Ein-
nreus *, le chien courant of Bufton, the sleuthounde of *See Cunh.
the Scots : The hound or dog, with long, smooth, and
pendulous ears. It was a dog of great use, and in
high esteem with our ancestors : its employ was to re¬
cover any game that had escaped wounded from the
hunter, or been killed and stole out of the forest. It
was remarkable for the acuteness of its smell, tracing
the lost beast by the blood it had spilt; from whence
the name is derived. This species could, with the ut¬
most certainty, discover the thief by following his
footsteps, let the distance of his fight be ever so great,
and through the most secret and thickest coverts ; nor
would it cease its pursuit till it had taken the felon.
They V'ere likewise used by Wallace and Bruce during
the civil wars. The poetical historians of the two he¬
roes frequently relate very curious passages on this sub¬
ject ; of the service these dogs were of to their masters,
and the escapes they had from those of the enemy. The
blood hound was in great request on the confines of
England and Scotland ; where the borderers were con¬
tinually preying on the herds and flocks of their neigh¬
bours. The true blood-hound was large, strong, mus¬
cular, broad-breasted, of a stern countenance, of a deep
tan-colour, and generally marked with a black spot
above each eye.
BLOOD-Shotten. See Ophthalmia, Medicine/;?^.
BLOOD-Spaven. See Farriery Index.
Spitting of Blood, or Hcemoptde. See Medicine
Index.
Whole and Half Blood ; a kinsman of the whole
blood is he that is derived from the same couple of an¬
cestors j whereas a person of half blood descends from
either of them singly by a second marriage.
Blood of Christ, the name of a military order insti¬
tuted at Mantua in 1608. The number of knights wras
restricted to 20, besides the grand-master. Their de¬
vice was, Domine, probasti me ; or, Nihil hoc, triste,
recepto: “ Lord, thou hast proved me 5” or, “ Fortifi¬
ed by this, no evil can prevail.”
Precious Blood, a denomination given to a reformed
congregation of Bernardine nuns at Paris, first establish¬
ed under that name in 1661.
Dragon's Blood. See Dragon.
BLooD-Stone. See Haematites, Mineralogy
Index.
BLOOD-Vessels. See Anatomy Index.
BLOOD-lVhite, in ancient law writers, signifies blood,
and a customary amercement paid as a composition! for
the shedding or drawing of blood. The W'ord is also
written blodwhite, blodwita, blodwyta, bloodwit, blodwit,
bloudwit, and bluidweit. It is formed from the ancient
Saxon bind, “ blood,” and vite or wite, “ a fine or pe¬
nalty.” The word also denotes an exemption from this
penalty.
Blood
n
Biood-
While-
B L O
Blood.
penalty, granted by the king to certain persons and
communities as a special favour. King Henry II. grant¬
ed to all tenants within the honour of Wallingford 
Ut quicti sint dc hidagio et blodwite et bredwite,
BLoon-Wort. See Rumex, Botany Index.
Blood, Thomas, generally known by the appella¬
tion of Colonel Stood, was a disbanded officer of Oliver
Cromwell’s, famous for his daring crimes and his good
fortune. He was first distinguished by engaging in a
conspiracy to surprise the castle of Dublin ; which was
defeated by the vigilance of the duke of Ormond, and
some of his accomplices were executed. Escaping to
England, he meditated revenge against Ormond ; and
actually seized him one night in his coach at St James’s
street, where he might have finished his purpose if he
had not studied refinements in his vengeance. He
bound him on horseback behind one of his associates,
resolving to hang him at Tyburn, with a paper pin¬
ned to his breast : but, when they got into the fields,
the duke, in his efforts for liberty, threw himself and
the assassin, to whom he was fastened, to the ground ;
and, while they were struggling in the mire, he was res¬
cued by his servants; but the authors of this attempt
were not then discovered. A little after, in 1671, Blood
formed a design of carrying off the crown and regalia
from the Tower} a design to which he was prompted,
as well by the surprising boldness of the enterprise, as
by the views of profit. He was very near succeeding.
He had bound and wounded Edwards the keeper of
•the jewel-office, and had got out of the Tower with his
prey j but was overtaken and seized, with some of his
associates. One of them was known to have been con¬
cerned in the attempt upon Ormond} and Blood was
immediately concluded to be the ringleader. When
questioned, he frankly avowed the enterprise } but re¬
fused to discover his accomplices. “ The fear of death
(he said) should never engage him either to deny a
guilt or betray a friend.” A.1I these extraordinary cir¬
cumstances made him the general subject ot conversa¬
tion } and the king was moved with an idle curiosity
to see and speak with a person so noted for his cou¬
rage and his crimes. Blood might now esteem him¬
self secure of pardon } and he wanted not address to
improve the opportunity. He told Charles, that he
had been engaged, with others, in a design to kill him
with a carabine above Battersea, where his majesty of¬
ten went to bathe } that the cause of this resolution was
the severity exercised over the consciences of the godly,
in restraining the liberty of their religious assemblies :
that when he had taken his stand among the reeds, full
of these bloody resolutions, be found his heart checked
with an awe of majesty } and he not only relented him¬
self, but diverted his associates from their purpose : that
he had long ago brought himself to an entire indiffer¬
ence about life, which he now gave for lost } yet could
he not forbear warning the king of the danger which
might attend his execution : that his associates had
bound themselves by the strictest oaths to revenge the
death of any of their confederacy, and that no precau¬
tion or power could secure any one from the effect of
their desperate resolutions. Whether these considera¬
tions excited fear or admiration in the king, they con¬
firmed his resolution of granting a pardon to Blood ;
but he thought it a requisite point of decency first to
obtain the duke of Ormond’s consent. Arlington came
3
t 752 ]
B L O
to Ormond in the king’s name, and desired that he
would not prosecute Blood, for reasons which he was
commanded to give him. The duke replied, that his
majesty’s commands were the only reason that could be
given : and being sufficient, he might therefore spare
the rest. Charles carried his kindness to Blood still
farther} he granted him an estate of 500I. a-year in
Iieland 5 he encouraged his attendance about his per¬
son } he showed him great countenance } and many ap¬
plied to him for promoting their pretensions at court.
And while old Edwards, who had bravely ventured his
life, and had been wounded in defending the crown
and regalia, was forgotten and neglected, this man,
who deserved only to be stared at and detested as a mon¬
ster, became a kind of favourite. Blood enjoyed his
pension about ten years, till being charged with fixing
an imputation of a scandalous nature on the duke of
Buckingham, he was thrown into prison, where he died
August 24. 1680.
BLOODY, something belonging to or abounding
with blood. &
Bloody-FIux. See Medicine Index.
. Bloody-Hand is when a trespasser is apprehended
in a forest with his hands or other parts bloody } which
is a circumstance of his having killed the deer, though
he be not found chasing or hunting them.
BLOODY-Sain. See Rain.
BLOODY-Sweat. Many instances of this are recorded,
in which it has been owing to bodily disorder, or ex¬
treme mental agitation and agony. See particularly
Aristotle’s Hist. Animal, lib. iii. cap. 19. apud Open
tom. i. Thuanus Hist. Temp. &c. lib. ii. apud Open
tom. i. Melanges d’Histoire et de Literature, &c. par
M. V. Marville, tom. iii. p. 149. Acta Physico-Med.
Norimbergae, vol. i. p. 84. and vol. viii. p. 428.
SLOODY-Urine. See Medicine Index.
BLOOM, a mass of iron after having undergone the
first hammering called blomary. It has yet to under¬
go many hammerings before it become iron fit for the
smith’s use, and be first made what they call the an-
eony. See Ancony.
LLOOT, Peter, a Flemish painter, whose works
are not frequently seen in these kingdoms } nor are
they easily purchased in Holland, being carefully pre¬
served in private collections, and are highly esteemed.
The subjects he chose to paint were always taken from
the lowest life} such as boors drinking, feasting, dan-
cing, or quarrelling} shepherds piping, and some¬
times the marriages of villagers. He was a faithful,
and indeed too servile an imitator of nature,; never de¬
parting from the actions, attitudes, or draperies of his
models. He showed a good knowledge of the chiaro¬
scuro and perspective } he had a delicate manner of
penciling, and his colouring was mellow } but he bad
no idea of elegance : yet his pictures have in many
respects great merit, and his defects seem rather im¬
putable to the taste of his country than to bis own ge¬
nius ; some of his works being for the lightness of
the touch, the neatness of handling, and transparence
of colour, equal to the best of his time. He died in
1667.
BLOSSOM, in a general sense, denotes the flower
of any plant. See the article Flower.
Blossom, in a more proper sense, is restrained to
the flowers of trees which they put forth in the spring,
and
Blood
B L O [ 753 ] B L O
Siossom as tlie forerunners of their fruit, otherwise called their
Q bloom. The office of the blossom is partly to protect,
■Mount. an(j part]y to draw nourishment to, the embryo fruit or
^ seed.
Blossom, or Beach-Coloured, in the manege, a term
applied to a horse that has his hair white, but intermix¬
ed all over with sorrel and bay hairs. Such horses are
so insensible and hard, both in the mouth and the flanks,
that they are scarcely valued $ besides they are apt to
turn blind.
BLOSSOMING of Plants, the act of blowing,
or putting forth flowers or blossoms, called also flower¬
ing. The blossoming of the Glastonbury thorn piously
on Christmas-day morning, is a vulgar error ; owing
to this, that the plant, besides the usual blossoming
in the spring, sometimes puts forth a few white tran¬
sient blossoms in the middle of winter. For the blos¬
soming of the rose of Jericho on the same day, as it is
commonly held in England, or in the time of midnight
mass, as it is held in France, is somewhat more than
an error, being really a fraud on one side, and a super¬
stition on the other. This rose, whose leaves are only
closed and shrivelled up in winter, will, at any time,
upon setting its pedicle in wTater, expand and blossom
a-new ; because the pedicle being spongy imbibes the
fluid apace, and thus fills and swells out the shrivelled
leaves ; which property some monks have turned to
good account.
BLOTELING, or Blooteling, Abraham, an
engraver who flourished about the year 1672. Fie
was a native of Amsterdam, and designed as w'ell as
engraved. Frcm the style of his etchings, which have
great merit, he is supposed to have frequented the
school of the Visschers. He came into England about
the year 1672, or 1673, t^ie time the French in¬
vaded Holland $ but he did not reside there long. He
not only etched, but also scraped, several mezzotintos,
which were much esteemed. Vertue informs us, that
whilst he was in England, he received 30 guineas for
an etching of the Duke of Norfolk. From hence he
returned to Amsterdam, where, in all probability, he
died. In the year 1685, he published at Amsterdam
the gems of Leonardo Augustino, and etched the plates
himself.
BLOUNT, Thomas, a learned English writer of
the 17th century, born at Bordeslev in Worcestershire.
He had not the advantage of an university education ;
but, by strength of genius and great application, made
a considerable progress in literature. Upon the break¬
ing out of the popish plot in the reign of King Charles
II. being much alarmed on account of his being a zeal¬
ous Roman Catholic, he was seized with a palsy ; and
died in December, 1679, aget^ 61. He wrote, 1. The
Academy of Eloquence, containing a complete English
rhetoric. 2. Glossographia, or a dictionary interpret¬
ing such hard words, whether Hebrew, Greek, Latin,
Italian, &c. as are now used in our refined English
tongue, &c. 3. Boscobel ; or the History of his Ma¬
jesty’s Escape after the Battle of Worcester. 4. A
law dictionary. 5. Animadversions upon Sir Richard
Baker’s chronicle. 6. Fragmenta Antiquitatis; and
other works.
Blount, Sir Henry, an English writer, born at
his father’s seat in Hertfordshire in 1602. After a
regular education, be set out on his travels in 1654.
Vol. III. Part II. |
He became acquainted with a janizary at Venice, and Blount,
accompanied him into the Turkish dominions. Having Blow.
been abroad two years, he returned and published a  v
relation of his travels in the Levant, which went
through several editions. He was knighted by Char. I.
and was at the battle of Edge-Hill, at which time
he is supposed to have had the charge of the young
princes j but, after the king’s death, was employed by
the parliament, and by Cromwell. Yet after the re¬
storation of the royal family he was appointed high
sheriff of the county of Hertford, and from that time
lived as a private gentleman above 20 years. He
published, 1. An account of his travels. 2. Six co¬
medies written by John Lilly, under the title of Court
Comedies. 3. The Exchange Walk, a satire ; and, 4.
An Epistle in praise of Tobacco. Fie died October
9. 1682.
Blount, Sir Thomas Pope, baronet, an eminent
writer, and the eldest son of the former, wras born at
Upper Holloway, in the county of Middlesex, Septem¬
ber 12. 1649. -^-e was educated under the eye of
his father j and always distinguished himself as a lover
of liberty, a sincere friend to his country, and a true
pati’on of learning. He was advanced to the degree
of baronet by King Charles II. in whose reign he was
elected burgess for St Alban’s in two parliaments,
and was knight of the shire in three parliaments af¬
ter the Revolution. He wrote in Latin, 1. A cri¬
tique on the most celebrated writers. 2. Essays on se¬
veral subjects. 3. A natural history, extracted out of
the best modern writers; and, 4. Remarks upon poetry,
with characters and censures of the most considerable
poets, whether ancient or modern. He died June 70.
169*1.
Blount, Charles, younger brother of Sir Thomas
Pope Blount, had also an excellent capacity, and was
an eminent writer. His dnima Mundi, or An Histo¬
rical narration of the opinions of the ancients, concern¬
ing man’s soul after this life, according to unenlightened
nature, gave great oflence, and was complained of to
the bishop of London. But the work which render¬
ed him most known, was his translation of Pbilostra*
tus’s Life of Apollonius Tyaneus, published in 1680;
which was soon suppressed, as an attack on revealed
religion. Another work of the same complexion he
published the same year, called Great is Diana of the
Ephesians, &c. in which, under colour of exposing su¬
perstition, he struck at revelation. In 1684, he printed
a kind of Introduction to Polite Literature, In the
warmth of his zeal for the Revolution, he wrote a pam¬
phlet to prove King William and Queen Mary conquer¬
ors ; which was condemned to be burnt by both houses
of parliament. The close of his life was very unhappy.
For, after the death of his wife, he became enamoured
of her sister, who was only scrupulous against their
union on account of their prior connexion by the mar¬
riage. On this subject he wrote a letter, as the case of
a third person, with great learning and address. But
the archbishop of Canterbury and other divines deciding
against him, and the lady on this growing inflexible,
threw him into a frenzyr, in which he shot himself, in
1693. After his death, his miscellaneous pieces were
collected and published.
BLOW, Dr John, a famous musician and compo¬
ser, was born in 1648 at North Collingham in ibe
5 C county
B L ° C 754 ]
Blow, county of Nottingham j and was one of the first set of ceremony of
' 1 ' children after the Restoration, being bred up under Cap¬
tain Henry Cook. He was also a pupil of Hingeston,
organist to Oliver Cromwell, and after that of Dr
Christopher Gibbons. On the i6th day of March,
1673, he was sworn one of the gentlemen of the cha¬
pel in the room of Roger Hill; and in July 1674, up¬
on the decease of Mr Pelham Humphrey, was appoint¬
ed master of the children of the chapel.' In 1685, he
was made one of his majesty’s private music j and in
1687, was appointed almoner and master of the chori¬
sters of the cathedral church of St Paul. Blow was
not a graduate of either university; but Archbishop San-
cioft, in virtue of his own authority in that respect,
conferred on him the degree of doctor in music. Up¬
on the decease of Purcell in 1695, he became organist
of Westminster-abbey. In the year 1699, he was ap¬
pointed composer to his majesty, with a salary. Blow
was a composer of anthems while a chapel-boy, and on
the score of his merit, was distinguished by Charles II.
The king admired very much a little duet of Carissimi
to the words ‘ Bite o Cieli,’ and asked of Blow if he
could imitate it. Blow modestly answered be would
try; and composed in the same measure, and the same
key of D with a minor third, that fine song, ‘ Go per¬
jured man.’ Hie Orpheus Britannicus of Purcell had
been published by his widow soon after his decease; and
contained in it some of that author’s finest songs : the
favourable reception it met with was a motive with Blow
to the publication, in the year 1700, of a work of the
same kind, entitled jlmph/on Anglicus, containing com¬
positions for one, two, three, and four voices, with ac¬
companiments of instrumental music, and a thorough
bass figured for the organ, harpsichord, or theorbolute.
lo this book are prefixed commendatory verses by
sundry persons; and among them an ode, in the second
stanza of which are the following lines:
‘ His Gloria Patri long ago reach’d Rome,
‘ Sung and rever’d too in St Peter’s dome ;
‘ A canon will outlive her jubilees to come.’
The canon here meant is that fine one to which the
Gloria Patri in Dr Blow’s gamut service is set. Dr
Blow set to music an ode for St Cecilia’s day, in 1684,
the words by Mr Oldham, published together with one
of Purcell on the same occasion performed the pre¬
ceding year. He also composed and published a col¬
lection of lessons for the harpsichord or spinet, and
an ode on the death of Purcell, written by Mr Dry-
den. There are also extant of his composition sundry
hymns printed in the Harmonia Sacra, and a great
number of catches in the latter editions of the Musical
Companion. This great musician died in the year
1708, and lies buried in the north aisle of Westmin¬
ster-abbey. On his monument is the canon above men¬
tioned, engraven on a book with an inscription above
it.
Blow, in a general sense, denotes a stroke given
either with the hand, a weapon, or instrument. In
fencing, blows differ from thrusts, as the former are
given by striking, the latter by pushing.
Military Plow, alapa militaris, that given with a
sword on the neck or shoulder of a candidate for
knighthood, in the ceremony of dubbing him. The
custom seems to have taken its rise from the ancient
2
B L U
manumission. In giving the blow, the
prince used the formula Esto bonus miles, “ Be a va¬
liant soldierupon which the party rose a complete
knight, and qualified to bear arms in his own right.
Blow, in Law. See Battery.
Lly-Blows, the ova of flies deposited on flesh, or
other substances proper for hatching them.
Plow-Pipe, in Chemistry and Mineralogy, an instru¬
ment by which the blast of the breath may be directed
upon the flame of a lamp or candle, in such a manner
as to vitrify any small portion of mineral substance ;
and thus the process of assaying in the dry way may be
performed in a very short time, where either want of
instruments or opportunity prevents other methods from
being used.
Mr Bergman observes, that this instrument is ex¬
tremely useful to chemists, as many experiments are
daily neglected, either because they require furnaces
and a large apparatus of vessels ; from the want of
time to examine them in the ordinary way ; or from
the quantity required in the common way for exami¬
nation, when the matter may be too scarce or too dear.
In all these cases the blow-pipe may be advantageously
used; as, 1. Most of the experiments which can be
performed in the large way may also be done with the
blow-pipe. 2. The experiments which in the large
way require many hours, may in this method be finish¬
ed jn a few minutes; and, 3. The smallest particle is
sufficient. I he only defect is, that the proportions
cannot be determined with any precision ; and there¬
fore experiments on a large scale are still to be prefer¬
red. See Chemistry and Mineralogy Index. See
also Blow-pipe, Supplement.
BLOWING, in a general sense, denotes an agita¬
tion of the air, whether performed with a pair of bel¬
lows, the mouth, a tube, or the like. Butchers have a
practice of blowing up veal, especially the loins, as soon
as killed, with a pipe made of a sheep’s shank, to make
it look larger and fairer.
Blowing of Glass, one of the methods of forming
the various kinds of works in the glass manufacture.
It is performed by dipping the point of an iron blow-
iug pipe in the melted glass, and blowing through it
with the mouth, according to the circumstances of the
glass to be blown. See Glass.
Plowing of Tin, denotes the melting its ore, after
being first burnt to destroy the mundic.
Plowing Machines. See also Plowing Machines,
Supplement.
Blowing, among gardeners, denotes the action of
flowers, whereby they open and display their leaves. In
which sense, blowing amounts to much the same with
flo wering or blossoming.
The regular blowing season is in the spring; though
some plants have other extraordinary times and man¬
ners of blowing, as the Glastonbury thorn. Divers
flowers also, as the tulip, close every evening, and blow
again in the morning. x\.nnuai plants blow sooner or
later as their seeds are put in the ground ; whence the
curious in gardening.sow some every month in summer,
to Have a constant succession of flowers. The blowing
of roses may be retarded by shearing off the buds as
they put forth.
BLUBBER, denotes the fat of whales and other
large sea-animals, whereof is made train-oil. It is
properly
B L U [ 755 1 BOA
properly the adcps of the animal : it lies immediately
under the skin, and over the muscular flesh. In the
porpoise it is firm and full of fibres, and invests the body
about an inch thick. In the whale its thickness is or¬
dinarily six inches; but about the under lip, it is found
two or three feet thick. The whole quantity yielded
by one of these animals ordinarily amounts to 40 or 50,
sometimes to 80 or more, hundred weight. The use of
blubber to the animal seems to be partly to poise the
body, and render it equiponderant to the water; partly
to keep off the water at some distance from the blood,
the immediate contact whereof would he apt to chill it ;
and partly also for the same use that clothes serve us, to
keep the fish warm, by reflecting or reverberating the
hot steams of the body, and so redoubling the heat:
since all fat bodies are, by experience, found less sensi¬
ble of the impressions of cold than lean ones. Its use in
trade and manufactures is to furnish train oil, which it
does by boiling down. Formerly this was performed
ashore in the country where the whales were caught :
but of late the fishers do not go ashore ; they bring the
blubber home stowed in casks, and afterwards boil it
down in the preparation of the oil.
Sea-BiUBBER. See Medusa.
BLUE, one of the seven colours into which the rays
of light divide themselves when refracted through a glass
prism. For an account of the particular structure of
bodies by which they appear of a blue colour, see the
article Chromatics.—The principal blues used in paint¬
ing are Prussian blue, bice, saunders blue, azure, or
smalt, verditer, &c. ; for the preparation of which, see
Colour-Making.—In dyeing, the principal ingredients
for giving a blue colour, are indigo and woad. See
Dyeing.
Blue Colour of the Skij. See Sky.
Blue-Bird. See Motacilla, Ornithology In¬
dex.
Blue-Fish. See Coryphena, Ichthyology In¬
dex.
Blue Japan. Take gum-water, what quantity you
please, and white-lead a sufficient quantity ; grind them
well upon a porphyry ; then take isinglass size what
quantity you please, of the finest and best smalt, a suffi¬
cient quantity ; mix them well ; to which add, of your
white-lead, before ground, so much as may give it a
sufficient body. Mix all these together to the consist¬
ence of a paint.
Blue John, among miners, a kind of mineral which
has lately been fabricated into vases and other orna¬
mental figures. It is of the same quality with the cu¬
bical spar, with respect to its fusibility in the fire. It
loses its colour, and becomes white in a moderate heat :
the weight of a cubic foot of the bluest kind is 3180
ounces, and that of the least blue is 3140 ounces. This
substance began first to be applied to use about 18 years
ago at one of the oldest mines in Derbyshire, called
Odin mine, probably from its being dedicated to Odin
the great god of the northern nations, at the foot of a
high mountain called Mam-Tor m Castleton. Here the
greatest quantities are still found; the largest pieces are
sold for 9I. a ton, the middle-sized for 61. and the least
for 50s.
Prussian Blue. See Chemistry Index.
BLUING, the act or art of communicating a blue
colour to bodies otherwise destitute thereof. Laundres¬
ses blue their linen with smalt; dyers their stuffs and
wools with woad or indigo.
Bluixg of Metals is performed by heating them in
the fire till they assume a blue colour; particularly
practised by' gilders, who blue their metals before they
apply the gold and silver leaf.
Bluing of Iron, a method of beautifying that metal
sometimes practised; as for mourning buckles, swords,
and tne like. Phe manner is thus : Take a piece of
grindstone or whetstone, and rub hard on the work,
to take oft the black scurf from it: then heat it in the
fire ; and as it grows hot, the colour changes by degrees,
coming first to light, then to a darker gold colour, and
lastly to a blue. Sometimes they also grind indigo and
salad-oil together ; and rub the mixture on the3 work
with a vyoollen rag, while it is heating, leaving it to
cool of itself. Among sculptors we also find mention
of bluing si figure of bronze, by which is meant the
heating of it, to prepare it for the application of gold-
leaf, because of the bluish cast it acquires in the ope¬
ration.
BLUFF-head, among sailors. A ship is said to be
bluff-headed that has an upright stern.
BLUNDERBUSS, a short fire-arm with a wide
bore, capable of holding a number of bullets at once.
BLUSHING, a suffusion or redness of the cheeks,
excited by a sense of shame, on account of consciousness
of some failing or imperfection.
Blushing is supposed to be produced from a kind of
consent or sympathy between several parts of the body,
occasioned by the same nerve being extended to them all.
I bus the fifth pair of nerves being branched from the
brain to the eye, ear, muscles of the lips, cheeks, pa¬
late, tongue, and nose; a thing seen or heard that is
shameful, affects the cheeks with blushes, driving the
blood into the minute vessels thereof, at the same time
that it affects the eye and ear. For the same reason
it is, as Mr Derham observes, that a savoury thing seen
or smelt affects the glands and parts of the mouth : if
a thing heard be pleasing, it affects the muscles of the
face with laughter: if melancholy, it exerts itself on
the glands of the eyes, and occasions weeping, &.c.
And to the same cause Dr Willis ascribes the pleasure
of kissing.
. LOA, or Bote, -arum, in Ancient Geography, an
island on the coast of Ulyricum over against Tragurium.
A place of banishment for condemned persons; now cal¬
led Bua, an island in the Adriatic, joined to the conti¬
nent and to Tragurium, now Tran, by a bridge.
Boa. See Ophiology Index.
BOADADA Bashee, in the Turkish military or¬
ders, an officer of the janizaries whose business it is to
walk every day about the principal parts of the city
with a number of janizaries to attend him, to keep or-
an^ se® t,iat all things are regular, even to the dress.
1 his office is for three months, and from this the person
is usually advanced to be a serach.
BOADICEA, a valiant British queen in the time
of Nero, the emperor, wife to Prasutagus king of the
Iceni in Britain, who by his will left the emperor and
his own daughters co-heirs to his great treasures, in
expectation of procuring by that means Nero’s protec¬
tion for his family and people: but he was no soonei?
dead, than the emperor’s officers seized all. Boadicea
opposed these unjust proceedings ; which was resented
5 C 2 to
Bluing
11
Boadicea.
\
Bon lieea,
Boar.
BOA [ ^^6
to sudi a pitch of brutality, that they ordered the lady dogs
]
BOA
to be publicly whipped, and her daughters to be ravish¬
ed by the soldiers. The Britons took arms, with Boa-
dicea at their head, to shake off the Roman yoke j and
made a general and bloody massacre of the Romans in
all parts. The whole province of Britain would have
been lost, if Suetonius Raulmus had not hastened from
the isle of Mona to London, and with 10,000 men en¬
gaged the Britons. The battle was fought for a long
time with great vigour and doubtful success, till at last
victory inclined to the Romans. Boadicea, who had
behaved with all the bravery imaginable, despatched
herself by poison. ■
BOAR, in the manege. A horse is said to boar
wnen he shoots out his nose as high as his ears, and tosses
his nose in the wind.
Boar, a male swine. See Sus.
Ihe wild boar, among huntsmen, has several names,
according to its different ages : the first year, it is call¬
ed a pig of the sounder ; the second it is called a hog;
the third, a hog-steer; and the fourth, a boar; when
leaving the saunder, he is called a shigler or sangler.
1 he boar generally lives to 25 or 30 years, if he escapes
accidents. The time of going to rut is in December,
and lasts about three weeks. Ihey feed on all sorts of
fruits, and on the roots of many plants j the root of
fern in particular seems a great favourite with them ;
and when they frequent places near the sea-coasts, they
will descend to the shores, and demolish the tenderer
shell-fish in very great numbers. Their general places
of rest are among the thickest bushes that can be found:
and they are not easily put out of them, but will
stand the bay a long time. In April and May they
sjeep more sound than at any other time of the year,
and this is therefore the successful time for the taking
them in the toils. When a boar is roused out of the
thicket, he always goes from it, if possible, the same
way by which he came to it j and when he is once up,
he wifi never stop till he comes to some place of more
security. If it happens that a saunder of them are
found together, when any one breaks away, the rest
all follow the same way. When the boar is hunted in
the wood where he was bred, he will scarcely ever be
brought to quit it; he will sometimes make towards
the sides to listen to the noise of the dogs, but retires
into the middle again, and usually dies or escapes there.
WThen it happens that a boar runs a-head, he will not
he stopped 0* put out of his way, by man or-beast, so
long as he has any strength left. He makes no doubles
or crossings when chased ; and, when killed, makes no
noise, if an old boar; the sows and pigs will squeak
when wounded.
The segson for hunting the wild boar begins in Sep¬
tember, and ends in December, when they go to rut.
If it he a large boar, and one that has lain long at
rest, he must he hunted with a great number of dogs,
and those such as will keep close to him ; and the hunts¬
man, with lus spear, should always be riding in among
them, and charging the boar as often as he can, to dis¬
courage him : such a boar as this, with five or six cou¬
ple of dogs, will run to the first convenient place of
shelter, and there stand at bay and make at them as
they attempt to come up with him. There ought al¬
ways to be relays also set of the best and staunchest
j^ugds in the kennjel; lor if they are of young eager
they will be apt to seize him, and be killed or
spoiled before the rest come up. The putting collars
with bells about the dogs necks is a great security
for them; for the boar will not so soon strike at
them when they have these, but will rather run before
them. The huntsmen generally kill the boar with their
swords or spears : but great caution is necessary in ma¬
king the blows ; for he is very apt to catch them upon
his snout or tusks ; and if wounded and not killed, he
will attack the huntsman in the most furious manner.
The place to give the wound with the spear is either
between the eyes in the middle of the forehead, or in
the shoulder; both these places make the wound mor¬
tal.
When this creature makes at the hunter, there is no¬
thing for it but courage and address ; if he flies for it,
he is surely overtaken and killed. If the boar comes
straight up, he is to be received at the point of the
spear : but if he makes doubles and windings, he is to
be watched very cautiously, for he will attempt getting
hold of the spear in his mouth ; and if he does so, no¬
thing can save the huntsman but another person attack¬
ing him behind ; he will on this attack the second per¬
son, and the first must then attack him again : two
people will thus have enough to do with him ; and were
it not for the forks of the boar-spears that make it im¬
possible to press forward upon them, the huntsman who
gives the creature his death wound, would seldom es¬
cape falling a sacrifice to his revenge for it. The mo¬
dern way of boar-hunting is generally to dispatch the
creature by all the huntsmen striking him at once ; but
the ancient Roman way was, for a person on foot, arm¬
ed with a spear, to keep the creature at bay ; and in this
case the boar would run of himself upon the spear to
come at the huntsman, and push forward till the spear
pierced him through.
rI he hinder claws of a hoar are called guards. In
the corn, he is said to feed ; in the meadows or fallow-
fields, to rout, worm, or fern ; in a close, to gra%e.
The boar is farrowed with as many teeth as he will ever
have ; his teeth only increasing in bigness, not in num¬
ber : among these there are four called tushes, or tusks;
the two biggest of which do not hurt when he strikes,
but serve only to whet the other two lowest, with which
the beast defends himself, and frequently killsj as being
greater and longer than the rest.
It is very remarkable, that these creatures in the
West Indies are subject to the stone ; few of them are
absolutely free from it, yet scarcely any have the stones
ot any considerable size. It is common to find a great
number in the same bladder ; and they are usually of
about a scruple weight, are angular, and very regular,
each having five angles.
Among the ancient Romans boar’s flesh was a delica¬
cy : a boar served up whole was a dish of state.
i he boar was sometimes also the military ensign
borne by the Roman armies, in lieu of the eagle.
Among physicians, a boar’s bladder has been reputed
a specific for the epilepsy. The tush of the wild boar
still passes with some as of great efficacy in quinsies
and pleurisies.
BOARD, a long piece of timber, sawed thin for
building and several other purposes. See Timber.
Deal-boards are generally imported into England
ready sawed, because done cheaper abroad, in regard'
Boar,
Board.
‘BOA [
Board we want saw-mills. Cap-boards are imported from
|| Sweden and Dantzic. Oak-boards chiefly from Swe-
Boat. den and Holland j some from Dantzic. We also im-
port white boards for shoemakers ; mill and scale-
boards, &c. for divers artificers. Scale-board is a thin¬
ner sort, used for the covers of primers, thin boxes, and
the like. It is made with large planes j but might pro¬
bably be sawed with mills to advantage.
Board is also used for a kind of table or bench,
whereon several artificers perform their work. In
this sense we say a work-6offr<7, s\\op-board, tailoi’s-
board, &c.
Board is also used for a flat machine, ov frame, used
in certain games, and the like. In this sense, we say a
draught-£oar</,achess board, board, and the like.
Board, Bureau, is also used for an office where ac¬
counts are taken, payments ordered, and the like. In
this sense, we say the board of works, board of ord¬
nance, board of treasury, and the like.
Board, among seamen. To go aboard, signifies to
go into the ship. To slip by the board, is to slip down
by the ship’s side. Board and board, is when two ships
come so near as to touch one another, or when they lie
side by side. To make a board, is to turn to windward ;
and the longer your boards are, the more you work into
the wind. To board it up, is to beat it up, sometimes
upon one tack and sometimes upon another. She makes
a good board, that is, the ship advances much at one tack.
The weather board, is that side of the ship which is to
windward.
BOARDING, in a naval engagement, is a desperate
and furious assault made by one ship on another, after
having found every other method to reduce her inef¬
fectual : it may be performed in different places of the
ship, according to their circumstances and situation, by
the assailant detaching a number of men armed with pi¬
stols and cutlasses on the decks of his antagonist, who
stands in the same predicament with a city stormed by
the besiegers. This expedient, however, is rarely at¬
tempted by king’s ships, which generally decide the
combat without grappling each other j but is chiefly
practised by privateers, which, bearing down on the
enemy’s quarter or broadside, drop from the bowsprit,
which projects over the defendant’s deck, an earthen
shell, called a stink-pot, charged with fiery and suffo¬
cating combustibles, which immediately bursts, catches
fire, and fills the deck with insufferable stench and
smoke : in the middle of the confusion thus occasioned,
the privateer’s crew rush aboard, under cover of the
smoke, and easily overpower the astonished enemy, un¬
less they have close quarters to which they can retreat
and beat them off the deck.
BOAT, a small open vessel, conducted on the water
by rowing or sailing. The construction, machinery, and
even the names of boats, are very different, according to
the various purposes for which they are calculated, and
the services on which they are to be employed. Thus
they are occasionally slight or strong, sharp or flat
bottomed, open or decked, plain or ornamented $ as they
may be designed for swiftness or burden, for deep or
shallow water, for sailing in a harbour or at sea, and
for convenience or pleasure.
The largest boat that usually accompanies a ship is
the long-boat, which is generally furnished with a mast
and sails: thoso which are filled for men of war, may
757 ] BOA
be occasionally decked, armed, and equipped, for Boat,
cruising short distances against merchant ships of the -v—
enemy, or smugglers, or for impressing seamen, &c. The
barges are next in order, which are longer, slighter, *
and narrower : they are employed to carry the princi¬
pal sea-officers, as admirals, and captains of ships of
war, and are very unfit for sea. Pinnaces exactly re¬
semble barges, only that they are somewhat smaller,
and never row more than eight oars j whereas a barge
properly never rows less than ten. These are for the
accommodation of the lieutenants, &c. Cutters of a
ship, are broader, deeper, and shorter, than the barges
and pinnaces j they are fitter for sailing, and are com¬
monly employed in carrying stores, provisions, pas¬
sengers, &c. to and from the ship. In the structure of
this sort of boats, the lower edge of every plank in the
side overlays the upper edge of the plank below, which
is called by ship-wrights clinch-work. Yawls are some¬
thing less than cutters, nearly of the same form, and
used for similar services j they are generally rowed
with six oars.
The above boats more particularly belong to men of
war; as merchant-ships have seldom more than two,
viz. a long-boat and yawl: when they have a third, it
is generally calculated for the countries to which they
trade, and varies in its construction accordingly. Mer¬
chant-ships employed in the Mediterranean find it more
convenient to use a lunch, which is longer, more flat-
bottomed, and better adapted every way to the harbours
of that sea, than a long-boat.
A wherry is a light sharp boat, used in a river or
harbour for carrying passengers from place to place.
Pwttfa are a sort of oblong flat-bottomed boats, nearly
resembling floating stages j they are used by ship-wrights
and caulkers, for breaming, caulking, or repairing a
ship’s bottom. A moses is a very flat broad boat, used
by merchant-ships amongst the Caribbee islands, to Bring
hogsheads of sugar off from the sea beach to the shipping
which are anchored in the roads. A felucca is a strong
passage-boat used in the Mediterranean, from 10 to 16
banks of oars. The natives of Barbary often erfiploy
boats of this sort as cruisers.
For the larger sort of boats, see the articles Craft,
Cutter, Periagua, and Shallop.
Of all the small boats, a Norway yawl seems to be
the best calculated for a high sea, as it will often venture
out to a great distance from the coast of that country,
when a stout ship can hardly carry any sail.
An account of several trials made on a Boat, or
Sloop, fit for inland navigation, coasting voyages, and
short passages by sea, which is not, like ordinary ves¬
sels, liable to be overset or sunk by winds, ivaves, water¬
spouts, or too heavy a load; contrived and constructed
by Monsieur Bcrnicres, director of the bridges and
causeways in France, &c. &c.] Some of these trials
were made on the first of August 1777, at the gate of
the Invalids in Paris, in the presense of the provost of
the merchants, of the body of the town, and a numerous
concourse of spectators of all conditions.
The experiments were made in the way of compari¬
son with another common boat of the same placej and
of equal size. Both boats had been built ten years,
and their exterior forms appeared to be exactly similar.
The common boat contained only eight men, who
rocked it and made it incline so much to one side, that
it
BOA [ 758 ] B O C
Boat presently filled with water, and sunk ; so that the
!! . men were obliged to save themselves by swimming j
Boatswain. a thing common in all vessels of the same kind, either
from the imprudence of those who are in them, the
strength of tlie waves or wind, a violent or unexpected
shock, their being overloaded, or overpowered in any
other way.
The same men who had just escaped from the boat
which sunk, got into the boat of M. Bernieres j rocked
it, and filled it, as they had done the other, with water.
3»ut, instead of sinking to the bottom, though brim
full, it bore being rorved about the river, loaded as it
was with men and water, without any danger to the
people in it.
M. Bernieres carried the trial still farther. He or¬
dered a mast to be erected in this same boat, when filled
with water ; and to the top of the mast had a rope fast¬
ened, and drawn till the end of the mast touched the
surface of the river, so that the boat was entirely on
one side, a position into which neither winds nor waves
could bring her; yet as soon as the men who had
hauled her into this situation let go the rope, the boat
and mast recovered themselves perfectly in less than the
quarter of a second ; a convincing proof that the boat
could neither be sunk nor overturned, and that it af¬
forded the greatest possible security in every way. These
experiments appeared to give the greater pleasure to the
public, as the advantages of the discovery are not only
so sensible, but of the first importance to mankind.
Boat-BM. See Cancroma.
BoAT-Imect. SeeNotonecta,Entomology Index.
BOATING, a kind of punishment in use among the
ancient Persians for capital offenders. The manner of
boating was thus : the person condemned to it being
laid on lifs back in a boat, and having his hands stretch¬
ed out, and tied fast on eacli side of it, had another boat
put over him, his head being left out through a place fit
for it. In this posture they fed him, till the worms,
which were bred in the excrements he voided as he thus
lay, ate out his bowels, and so caused his death, which
was usually 20 days in effecting, the criminal lying all
th is while in most exquisite torments.
BOATSW AIN, the officer who has the boats, sails,
rigging, colours, anchors, and cables, committed to his
charge.
It is the duty of the boatswain particularly to direct
whatever relates to the rigging of a ship, after she is
equipped from a royal dock-yard. Thus he is to ob¬
serve that the masts are properly supported by their
shrouds, stays, and back-stays, so that each of those ropes
may sustain a proportional effort, when the mast is strain¬
ed by the violence of the wind, or the agitation of the
ship. He ought also to take care that the blocks and
running-ropes are regularly placed, so as to answer the
purposes for which they are intended j and that the sails
are properly fitted to their yards and stays, and well
furled or reefed when occasion requires.
It is likewise his office to summon the crew to their
duty $ to assist with his mates in the necessary business
of the ship; and to relieve the watch when it expires.
He ought frequently to examine the condition of the
masts, sails, and rigging; and remove whatever may he
judged unfit for service, or supply what is deficient: and
he is ordered by his instructions to perform this duty
mth as little noise as possible.
Boatswain's Mate has the peculiar command of tliegoat.„, . ,
long-boat, for the setting forth of anchors, weighing or Mate
fetching home an anchor, warping, towing, or mooring ; (I
and is to give an account of his store. Boeeace.
BOB, a term used for the ball of a short pendulum. ‘ ^
BOBARTLA. See Botany Index.
BOBBIN, a small piece of wood turned in the form
of a cylinder, with a little border jutting out at eacli
end, bored through to receive a small iron pivot. It
serves to spin with the spinning-wheel, or to wind thread,
worsted, hair, cotton, silk, gold, and silver.
BOBBING, among fishermen, a particular manner
of catching eels, different from sniggling. Bobbing for
eels is thus performed : They scour well some large lobs,
and with a needle run a twisted silk through them from
end to end, taking so many as that they may warp
them about a board a dozen times at least: then they
tie them fast with the two ends of the silk, that they
may hang in so many hanks ; which done, they fasten
all to a strong cord, and, about a handful and a half
above the worms, fix a plummet three quarters of a
pound weight, and make the cord fast to a strong pole.
With this apparatus fishing in muddy water they feel
the eels tug lustily at the bait ; when they think they
have swallowed it sufficiently, they gently draw up the
rope to the top, and bring them ashore.
BOBIO, an episcopal town of Italy, in the Sardinian
part of the Milanese, seated on the river Trebia, in E.
Long. 9. 30. N. Lat. 44. 48.
BOCA chica, the strait or entrance into the harbour
of Carthagena in South America. It is defended by
several forts belonging to the Spaniards, all which were
taken by the English in 1741 ; they were nevertheless
obliged to raise the siege of Carthagena in a short time
after.
BocA-del-Drago, a strait so called, between the island
of Trinidad and Andalusia, in the province of Terra
Firma in South America.
BOCANUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of Mau¬
ritania Tingitana, to the south of Mount Atlas ; said
to be that of Morocco in Africa. W. Long. 9. o.
N. Lat. 31.0.
BOCCA, in glass-making, the round hole in the
working furnace, by which the metal is taken out of
the great pots, and by which the pots are put into the
furnace. This is to be stopped with a cover made of
earth and brick, and removeable at pleasure, to pre¬
serve the eyes of the workmen from the violence of the
heat.
BOCCACE, or Boccacio, John, one of the most
polite and learned writers of his age, was born in Tus¬
cany in 1313. His father first placed him with a mer¬
chant ; but as he gave signs of genius, he was put af¬
terward to study the canon law : he lost almost as
much time at this as at the last occupation ; and
thought of nothing but poetry. He came under the
instruction of Petrarch; but did not so entirely de¬
vote himself to poetry, as to forget other studies. In
the prosecution of these, however, as he sought every¬
where for the best masters, and had not an income suf¬
ficient for his expences, he was reduced to such cir¬
cumstances as to stand in need of the bounty of others;
he was particularly obliged to Petrarch, who furnished
him with money as well as books, and assisted him in
many other respects. Boccace was a great admirer of
B O C [ 759 ] B O C
Boccace ^1P- Greek language : he found means to get Homer
|| translated into Latin for his own use ; and procured a
Bor’carella.professor’8 chair at Florence for Leontius Fylatus, in
^ " order to explain this poet. The republic of Florence
honoured Boccace with the freedom of that city ; and
employed him in public affairs, particularly to nego-
ciate the return of Petrarch : but this poet not only
refused to return to Florence, but persuaded Boccace
also to retire from thence, on account of the factions
which prevailed in that republic. Having quitted
Florence, he went to several places in Italy, and stop¬
ped at last at the court of Naples, where King Robert
I gave him a very kind reception. He conceived a vio¬
lent affection tor the natural daughter of that prince,
which made him remain a considerable time at Naples.
He also made a long stay in Sicily, where he was in
high favour with Queen Joan. He returned to Flo¬
rence when the troubles were a little appeased : but
not liking the course of life he must have followed
there, he retired to Certaldoj and, far from the noise
of business, he spent his time in study agreeably to his
own humour. His great application brought on him
an indisposition, of which he died in 1376. He wrote
several books, some learned and serious, others of gal¬
lantry and full of stories. It is by his Decameron
chiefly that he has immortalized himself. Petrarch
found so many charms in this composition, that he was
at the pains to translate it into Latin for his own satis¬
faction.
BOCCALF, or Bocal, a liquid measure used at
Rome, answering to what among us is called a bottle,
being equivalent to about an English quart. Seven
boccales and a half make the rubbia.
BOCCALINI, Trajan, a celebrated satirical wri¬
ter, born at Rome, who, in the beginning of the 17th
century, obtained the admiration of all Italy by his
refined and delicate criticisms. Sovereign princes them¬
selves did not escape the lash of his satire. The car¬
dinals Borghese and Gaetan having declared themselves
his protectors, he published h\s Ragguaglio di Parnassa,
and La Secretaria di Apollo, which is the continuation
of the former. These two works were received by the
public with uncommon applause. He there feigns,
that Apollo, holding his court at Parnassus, heard
the complaints of the whole world, and did justice ac¬
cording as the cases required. He at length printed
his Pietra de Parangone ; wherein he attacks the court
of Spain, setting forth their designs against the liberty
of Italy, and inveighing particularly against them for
the tyranny they exercised in the kingdom of Naples.
I he Spaniards complained of him in form, and were
determined at any rate to be revenged. Boccalini was
frightened, and retired to Venice $ but was there assas¬
sinated in a very strange manner. He lodged with one
of his friends, who having got up early one morning,
left Boccalini in bed : a minute after, some armed men
entered his chamber, and gave him so many blows with
bags full of. sand, that they left him for dead •, so that
his friend returning some time after, found him speech¬
less. Great search was made at Venice for the authors
of this murder j and though they were never discover¬
ed, it was universally believed that they were employed
by the court of Spain.
BOCCARELLA, in the glass-manufacture, a small
hole or aperture of the furnace, one of which is placed
on each side of the bocca, almost horizontally with it. Boccarella
Out of them the servitors take coloured or finer metal ti
from the piling pot. Bochart.
BOCCIARDI, Clemente, called Clementone, hi-'" v
story and portrait painter, was born at Genoa in 1620,
and was the disciple of Bernardo Strozzi, an artist of
good reputation •, but he found in himself so strong an
ambition to arrive at excellence in his profession, that
he left Genoa and went to Rome $ there to explore
that true sublimity of style, which can only be obtain¬
ed by a judicious observation of the ancient sculptures
and the works of the celebrated modern artists. By
the guidance of an excellent genius, and also by a most
industrious application to design, he discovered the art
of uniting and blending the antique and modern gusto
in a style that at once exhibited both gracefulness and
strength. Most of the works of this master (except
his portraits, which were lively, natural, and grace¬
ful) are in the chapels of Genoa, Pisa, and other cities
of Italy ; of which places they are, at this day, ac¬
counted the greatest ornaments, and are most exceeding¬
ly esteemed.
BOCCONI, Sylvio, a celebrated natural historian,
born at Palermo in Sicily. After he had gone through
the usual course of studies, he applied himself chiefly
to natural history, in which he made a most surprising
progress. He was afterwards ordained priest, and en¬
tered into the Cistercian order, at which time he changed
his Christian name Paul into that oi Sylvio. This new
way of life did not in the least divert him from his fa¬
vourite study : for he pursued it with greater vigour
than ever, and travelled not only over Sicily, but like¬
wise visited the isle of Malta, Italy, the Low Countries,
England, France, Germany, Poland, and several other
nations j and, in 1696, was admitted a member of the
academy of the virtuosi in Germany. Upon his return
to Sicily, he retired to a convent of his own order near
Palermo; where he died in 1704, being 71 years of
age. He'left many curious works.
BOCCONIA, Greater Tree Celandine. See
Botany Index.
BOCHART, Samuel, one of the most learned
men in the I 7th century, was born at Roan in Nor¬
mandy. He made a very early progress in learning,
and became a great proficient in the oriental languages.
He was many years pastor of a Protestant church at
Caen ; where he was tutor to Wentworth Dillon earl
of Roscommon, author of the Essay on Translated Verse.
Here he particularly distinguished himself bv his pub¬
lic disputations with Father Veron, a very famous con-
trovertist. The dispute was held in the castle of Caen,
in the presence of a great number of Catholics and Pro¬
testants. Bochart came off with great honour and re¬
putation : which were not a little increased in the year
1646, upon the publication of his Phaleg and Canaan^
which are the titles of the two parts of his Geographia
Sacra. He acquired also great fame by his Hicro%oiconi
printed in London in 1675. This treats de animalibus
sacrce scripturce. The great learning he displayed in
his works rendered him esteemed not only among those
of his own profession, but amongst all lovers of know*
ledge of whatever denomination. In 1652, the queen
of Sweden invited him to Stockholm, where she gave
him many proofs of her regard and esteem. At his
return to Caen, he resumed the functions of the mini-
' svy?
BOD [ 760 ] BOD
Bochart stry, and was received into the acadamy of that city.
H His learning was not his principal qualification, he had
Bodiu. a modesty equal to it $ and hence enjoyed his great re-
», plltatjon jn tranquillity, sheltered from those unhappy
quarrels which so many other learned men draw upon
themselves. He died suddenly while he was speaking
in the above academy, on the 16th of May, 1667, aged
78. A complete edition of his works was published in
Holland, in two volumes folio, 1712.
BOCHIUS, or Bocqui, John, a Latin poet, born
at Brussels in 1555. He travelled into Italy, Ger¬
many, Poland and Muscovy, and at his return became
secretary to the duke of Parma. He died on the 13th
of January, 1609. The critics in the Netherlands set
so great a value on his poetry, that they gave him the
name of the Belgic Virgil. He wrote, 1. De Belgii
Principalu. 2. Parodia Hcroica Psalmorum JJavidico-
rum. 3. Observationes Physic#, Ethic cs, Politic a, et
Historiccc, in Psalmos. 4. Vita Davidis. 5. Orationes.
6. Poemata.
BOCHETTA, a place of Italy, famous in the war
of 1746 and 1747’ I*- a cliain of mountains over
which the great road lies from Lombardy to Genoa;
and on the very peak of the highest mountain is a nar¬
row pass, which will hardly admit three men to go
abreast. This pass is properly called the Bochettd; for
the defence of which there are three forts. It is the
key of the city of Genoa j and was taken in 1746 by
the imperialists $ by which means they opened a way
to that city.
BOCKHOLT, a town of Germany in the cii’cle of
Westphalia and principality of Munster, capital of a
small district, and subject to Prussia. E. Long. 6. 20.
N. Lat. 51. 40.
BOGKING, a very large village of Essex in Eng¬
land, adjoining to Braintree, from which it is sepa¬
rated only by a small stream. Its church is a deanery,
and very large j and there are here two or three meet¬
ing-houses j but the market is kept at Braintree. It
contained 2544 inhabitants in 1811. There is a
large manufactory of baize, chiefly for exportation,
which gives employment to a great number of men,
women, and children. It is 42 miles north-east of
London.
BOCK-land, in the Saxons time, is what we now
call freehold lands, held by the better sort of persons
by charter or deed in writing j by which name it was
* distinguished from folklaml or copy-hold land, holden
by the common people without writing.
BODERIA, or Bodotria, the ancient name for
the frith of Forth in Scotland.
BODIN, John, native of Angiers, one of the ablest
men in France in the 16th century, famous for his
Method of History, his Republic, and other works. He
was in great favour with Henry III. who imprisoned
John de Sene for writing an injurious piece against
Bodin, and forbade him upon pain of death to publish
it. But his favour was not of long continuance. The
duke of Alen^on, however, gave him several employ¬
ments } and carried him to England with him as one
of his counsellors, where he had the pleasure and glory
to see his books de Republica read publicly in the
university of Cambridge, having been translated into
Latin by the English. He had written them in French.
In the liagguaglio of Boccalini he is condemned as an
3
atheist to the fire, for having said in his books that li¬
berty of conscience ought to be granted to sectaries.
He declared himself pretty freely against those who
asserted that the authority of monarchs is unlimited ;
but yet he displeased the republicans. Upon the death
of the duke of Alen^on, Bodin retired to Laon, where
he married. He had an office in the presidial of this
city \ and in Charles IX.’s time he was the king’s so¬
licitor, with a commission for the forests of Normandy.
He died of the plague at Laon, in 1596.
BODKIN, a small instrument made of steel, bone,
ivory, &c. used for making holes.
BODLEl, Sir Thomas, founder of the Bodleian
library at Oxford, was born at Exeter in Devonshire,
in 1544. When he was about 12 years of age, his
father, Mr John Bodley, being a Protestant, was ob¬
liged to leave*the kingdom. He settled at Geneva
with his family, and continued there till the death of
Queen Mary. In that university, then in its infancy,
young Bodley studied the learned languages, &c. un¬
der several eminent professors. On the accession of
Queen Elizabeth, he returned with his father to Eng¬
land ; and was soon after entered of Magdalen college
in Oxford. In 1563, he took the degree of bachelor
of arts, and the year following was admitted fellow of
Merton college. In 1565, he read a Greek lecture
in the hall of that college. He took a master of arts
degree the year after, and read natural philosophy in
the public schools. In 1569, he was one of the proc¬
tors of the university, and for some time after offi¬
ciated as public orator. In the year 1576, he quitted
Oxford, and made the tour of Europe j but returned
to his college after four years absence. He became
gentleman-usher to Queen Elizabeth, in the year 1583 ;
and in 1585 he married the widow of Mr Bell, daugh¬
ter of Mr Carew of Bristol, a lady of considerable for¬
tune. Mr Bodley was soon after sent ambassador to
the king of Denmark, and other German princes. He
w'as next charged with an important commission to
Henry III. of France j and in 1588, went ambassador
to the United Provinces, where he continued till the
year 1597. On his return to England, finding his pre¬
ferment obstructed by the jarring interests of Burleigh
and Essex, he retired from court, and could never af¬
terwards be prevailed on to accept of any employment.
He now began the foundation of the Bodleian library,
which was completed in 1599. Soon after the acces¬
sion of King James I. he received the honour of knight¬
hood, and died in the year 1612. He was buried in
the choir of Merton college. His monument is of
black and white marble, on which stands his effigy in
a scholar’s gown, surrounded with books. At the four
corners are the emblematical figures of Grammar,
Rhetoric, Music, and Arithmetic; twTo angels, &c. j
with a short inscription, signifying his age and time
of his death. Sir Thomas Bodley was a polite scho¬
lar, an able statesman, and a worthy man. Mr Gran¬
ger observes, that he merited much as a man of let¬
ters ; but incomparably more in the ample provision he
made for literature, in which he stands unrivalled j and
that his library is a mausoleum which will perpetuate
his memory as long as books themselves endure. Sir
Thomas wrote his own Life to the year 1609 j
which, together with the first draught of the Sta¬
tutes, and his Letters, have been published from the
originals
'tans.
3u *8j.
B O E • [75i ]
originals in the Bodleian library, by Mr Thomas Hearn, Gratitude
in 1703.
BODMIN, a town of Cornwall in England, seated
in a bottom between two high hills, which renders the
air very unwholesome. It consists chiefly of one street,
and the many decayed houses show that it has once
been a place of greater note. It is a mayor-town, sends
two members to parliament, and had formerly the pri¬
vilege of the coinage of tin. Population 2050 in i8ir.
W. Long. 4. 5. N. Lat. 50. 32.
BODON, a fortified town of Bulgaria, in Turkey
in Europe, with an archbishop’s see. It is seated on
the Danube, in E. Long. 25. 24. N. Lat. 45. 10.
BODROCH, a town of Hungary, seated on the
north-east shore of the river Danube, in E. Long. 20.
20. N. Lat. 46. 15.
BODRUN. SccTeos.
BODY, in Physics, an extended solid substance, of
itself utterly passive and inactive, indifferent either to
motion or rest.
Colour of Bodies. See Chromatics.
Body, with regard to animals, is used in opposition
to soul, in which sense it makes the subject of anatomy.
The height of the human body is said to be different
in different parts of the day $ ordinarily it is an inch
more in the morning than at night *. The body ceases
to grow in height when the bones are arrived at a de¬
gree of firmness and rigidity which will not allow of
farther extension by the effort of the heart and motion
of the blood.
Body, among painters, as to bear a body, a term
signifying that the colours are of such a nature, as to
be capable of being ground so fine, and mixing with
the oil so entirely, as to seem only a very thick oil of
the same colour.
Body, in the manege. A horse is chiefly said to
have a good body, when he is full jn the flank. If the
last of the short ribs be at a considerable distance from
the haunch-bone, although such horses may for a
time have pretty good bodies, yet, if they are much
laboured, they will lose them : and these are properly
the horses that have no flank. It is also a general
rule, that a man should not buy a light-bodied horse,
and one that is fiery, because he will soon destroy him¬
self.
Body, in the art of war, a number of forces, horse
and foot, united and marching under one commander.
Main Body of an Army, the troops encamped in the
centre between the two wings, and generally infantry ;
the other two bodies are the vanguard and the rear¬
guard ; these being the three into which an army,
ranged in order of battle, is divided.
Body, in matters of literature, denotes much the
same with system, being a collection of every thing be¬
longing to a particular science or art, disposed in pro¬
per order: thus we sav, a body of divinity, law, phy¬
sic, &c.
Body-Corporate. See Corporation.
BOECE, or Boethius, Hector, the historian, was
born at Dundee about the year 1470, studied at Aber¬
deen, and afterwards in the university of Paris. There
he became acquainted with Erasmus, and laid the foun¬
dation of a friendship which wras so honourable to him.
In 1500 he was recalled to Aberdeen by Bishop El-
phingston, who made him principal of that university.
VOL. III. Part II. f
B O E
for this promotion engaged him to write
with particular attention the Life of that prelate. It
appeared in the history of the diocese of Aberdeen j
and may be considered, perhaps, as the most valuable
portion of that work. His History of Scotland, a
more useful undertaking, was first published in the
year 1526. In 1574 ^ underwent a second impression,
and was enriched with the 18th book and a part of
the 19th. A farther continuation of it was executed
by Joannes Ferrerius Pedemontanus. Boece died about
the year I55°- has been compared, and not with¬
out reason, to Geoffroy of Monmouth. He had a pro¬
pensity to fable and exaggeration 5 a fault which the
elegance of his expression does not compensate. His
judgment was not equal to his genius j and his fictions
as a historian are a contrast to his probity as a man.
John Ballenden, archdeacon of Murray, translated his
history into the Scottish language at the desire of
James V. This translation William Harrison con¬
verted, though with imperfections, into English ; and
his associate Hollingshed published his work in his
chronicle, with additions and improvements by the in¬
genious Francis Thynne.
BOEDROMIA, in antiquity, solemn feasts held at
Athens in memory of the succour brought by Ion to
the Athenians, when invaded by Eumolpus son of Nep¬
tune in the reign of Erectheus. Plutarch gives ano¬
ther account of the Boedromia ; which, according to
him, were celebrated in memory of the victory obtained
by Theseus over the Amazons, in the month Boedro-
mion.
BOEDROMION, in Chronology, the third month
of the Athenian year, answering to the latter part of
our August and beginning of September.
BOEHMEN, Jacob, called the Teutonic philoso¬
pher, was a noted visionary of the 17th century, born
in a village of Germany near Gorlitz, in 1575. He
was bred a shoemaker: and marrying, supported a
large family by this occupation ; until, after amusing
himself with chemistry, a visionary turn of mind, heat¬
ed by sermons and German divinity, got the better
of his common sense, and produced raptures and no¬
tions of divine illumination. These he first gave vent
to in 1612, by a treatise entitled Aurora, or the Rising
of the Sun ; being a mixture of astrology, philosophy,
chemistry, and divinity, written in a quaint obscure
style. This being censured by the magistrates of Gor¬
litz, he remained silent for seven years j but improving
that interval by pursuing the flights of his imagination,
he resumed his pen j and resolving to redeem the time
he had lost, in the remaining five years of his life, he
published above 20 books, which greatly needed what
he concluded with, A Table of his Principles, or a Key
to his Writings ; though this has not proved sufficient
to render them intelligible to common apprehensions.
The key above mentioned appeared in 1624, and he
did not long survive it. For early in the morning of
the 18th of November that year, he called one of his
sons, and asked him “ if he also heard that excellent
Boece
u
Boehmeu.
music ?” to which being answered in the negative, he
ordered the door to be set open, that the music might
be the better heard. He asked afterwards what o’clock
it was ? and being told it had struck two, he said “ It
is not yet my time $ my time is three hours hence.”
In the interim he was heard to speak these words :
5 D < O
B O E
Boebmen “ O tliou strong God of hosts, deliver me according
[1 to thy will ! O thou crucified Lord Jesus, have mercy
Boerll.tavc. Up0n me!j anj receive me jnto kingdom !” When
' it was near six o’clock, he took his leave of his wife
and sons, and blessed them, and said, “ Now I go
hence into paradise then bidding his son turn him,
he immediately expired his last breath in a deep sigh.
A great number of persons have been misled by the
visions of this fanatic, notwithstanding his talents in in¬
volving the plainest things in mystery and enigmatical
jargon. Among others, the famous Quirinus Kahl-
man may be reckoned the principal of his followers in
Germany : who says, he had learned more being alone
in bis study, from Boehmen, than he could have learn¬
ed from all the wise men of that age together j and,
that we may not be in the dark as to what sort of
knowledge this was, he acquaints us, that amidst an
infinite number of visions it happened, that, being
snatched out of his study, he saw thousands of thou¬
sands of lights rising round about him. Nor has he
been without admirers, and those in no small number,
in England : among the foremost of whom stands the
famous Air William Law, author of Christian Per¬
fection, &c. who has favoured his countrymen with
an English edition of Jacob Boehmen’s works in 2vols.
4to.
BOEOTIA, the name of two ancient kingdoms,
one of which was founded or rather restored by Cad¬
mus, and named by him Bocotia, from the ox which
is said to have directed him to the place where he built
the capital of his new kingdom, better known after¬
wards by the name of Thebes. But as the inhabitants
were scarcely ever distinguished as a nation by the name
of Boeotians, but of Thebans, we refer to the article
Thebes for their history, &c.
The other Boeotia was in Thessaly, and is said to
have been founded by Boeotus the son of Neptune and
brother of iEolus, by Arne the daughter of iEolus
king of iEolis. This last, having sent his daughter to
Metapontum a city of Italy, she was there delivered
of those two sons, the eldest of whom she called after
her father’s name JBolus ; and he possessed himself of
the islands in the Tyrrhenian, now the Tuscan sea,
and built the city of Lipara. Boeotus the younger son
went to his grandfather and succeeded him in his king¬
dom, called it after his own name, and the capital
City Arne, from his mother. All that we know of these
Boeotians is, that they held this settlement upwards of
200 years ; and that the Thessalians expelled them
from it j upon which they came and took possession of
that country, which till then had been called Cadmeis,
and gave it the name of Bceotia. Diodorus and Ho¬
mer tell us, that these Boeotians signalized themselves
at the Trojan war 5 and the latter adds, that five of
Boeotus’s grandsons, viz. Peneleus, Leitus, Prothoe-
nor, Arcesilaus, and Clonius, were the chiefs who led
the Boeotian troops thither.
BOERHAAVE, Herman, one of the greatest
physicians, as well as the best men, that this or per¬
haps any age has ever produced, was born in 1668, at
Vurhout, a village near Leyden. At the age of 16
he found himself without parents, protection, advice,
or fortune. He had already studied theology and the
other ecclesiastical sciences, with the design of devoting
himself to a clerical life $ but the science of nature,
B O E
which equally engaged his attention, soon engrossed Boerllft,
his whole time. 1 his illustrious person, whose name L ^ Yj
afterwards spread throughout the world, and who left
at his death above 200,000!. could at that time barely
live by his labours, and was compelled to teach ma¬
thematics to obtain necessaries. But in 1693, being
received doctor in the science of physic, he began prac¬
tice ; and his merit being at length discovered, many
powerful friends patronized him, and procured him
three valuable employments : the first was that of pro¬
fessor of medicine in the university of Leyden j the se¬
cond, that of professor of chemistry'; and, thirdly, that
of professor of botany. The Academy of Sciences at
Paris, and the Royal Society at London, invited him
to become one of their members. He communicated
to each his discoveries in chemistry. The city of Ley¬
den became in his time the school of Europe for this
science, as well as for medicine and botany. All the
princes of Europe sent him disciples, who found in this
skilful professor, not only an indefatigable teacher, but
even a tender father, who encouraged them to pursue
their labours, consoled them in their afflictions, and so¬
laced them in their wants. When Peter the Great
went to Holland in 1715, to instruct himself in mari¬
time affairs, he also attended Boerhaave to receive his
lessons. His reputation was spread as far as China: a
mandarin wrote to him with this inscription, “ To
the illustrious Boerhaave, physician in Europeand
the letter came regularly to him. The city of Ley¬
den has raised a monument in the church of St Peter,
to the salutary genius of Boerhaave, Salutifero Boer-
huaviigenio sacrum. It consists of an urn upon a pe¬
destal of black marble: six heads, four of which re¬
present the four ages of life, and the two sciences in
which Boerhaave excelled, form a group issuing be¬
tween the urn and its supporters. The capital of this
basis is decorated with a drapery of white marble, in
which the artist has shown the different emblems of
disorders and their remedies. Above, upon the sur¬
face of the pedestal, is the medallion of Boerhaave : at
the extremity of the frame, a ribband displays the fa¬
vourite motto of this learned man : Simplex vigilutn
veri, “ Truth unarrayed.”
From the time of the learned Hippocrates, no phy¬
sician has more justly merited the esteem of his cotem¬
poraries, and the thanks of posterity, than Boerhaave.
He united to an uncommon genius, and extraordinary
talents, the qualities of the heart, which gave them so
great a value to society. He made a decent, simple,
and venerable appearance, particularly when age had
changed the colour of his hair. He was an eloquent
orator, and declaimed with dignity and grace. He
taught very methodically, and with great precision ; he
never tired his auditors, but they always regretted that
his discourses were finished. He would sometimes give
them a lively turn with raillery j but his raillery was
refined and ingenious, and it enlivened the subject he
treated of, without carrying with it any thing severe
or satirical. A declared foe to all excess, he consider¬
ed decent mirth as the salt of life. It was the daily
practice of this eminent person, through his whole life,
as soon as he rose in the morning, which was generally
very early, to retire for an hour to private prayer and
meditation on some part of the Scriptures. He often
told his friends, when they asked him how it was pos¬
sible
[ 762 ]
B 0 E [ 763 ] B O E
rhaave sible for him to go through so much fatigue ? that it
'V— was this which gave him spirit and vigour in the busi¬
ness of the day. This he therefore recommended as
the best rule he could give : for nothing, he said, could
tend more to the health of the body than the tranquil¬
lity of the mind j and that he knew nothing which
could support himself, or his fellow-creatures, amidst
the various distresses of life, but a well grounded con¬
fidence in the supreme Being upon the principles of
Christianity. This was strongly exemplified in his own
illness in 1722, which can hardly be told without hor¬
ror ; and by which the course of his lectures as well as
his practice was long interrupted. He was for five
months confined to his bed by the gout, where he lay
upon his back without daring to attempt the least mo¬
tion j because any effort renewed his torments, which
were so exquisite, that he was at length not only de¬
prived of motion but of sense. Here his medical art
was at a stand $ nothing could be attempted, because
nothing could be proposed with the least prospect of
success. But, having (in the sixth month of his illness)
obtained some remission, he determined to try whether
the juice of fumitory, endive, or succory, taken thrice
a-day in large quantity, (viz. above half a pint each dose),
might not contribute to his relief; and by a perseverance
in this method he was wonderfully recovered. This pa¬
tience of Boerhaave’s was founded not on vain reason¬
ings, like that of which the Stoics boasted; but on a
religious composure of mind, and Christian resignation
to the will of God.
Of his sagacity and the wonderful penetration with
which he often discovered and described, at the first
sight of a patient, such distempers as betray themselves
by no symptoms to common eyes, such surprising ac¬
counts have been given, as scarcely can be credited
though attested beyond all doubt. Yet this great ma¬
ster of medical knowledge was so far from having pre¬
sumptuous confidence in his abilities, or from being
puffed up by his riches, that he was condescending to all,
and remarkably diligent in his profession : and he often
used to say that the life of a patient (if tufled with or
neglected) would one day be required at the hand of
the physician. He always called the poor his best pa¬
tients ; for God (said he) is their paymaster. The
activity of his mind sparkled visibly in his eyes. He
was always cheerful, and desirous of promoting every
valuable end of conversation j and the excellency of
the Christian religion was frequently the subject of it:
for he asserted, on all proper occasions, the divine au¬
thority and sacred efficacy of the Scriptures; and
maintained, that they only could give peace of mind,
that sweet and sacred peace which passeth all under¬
standing ; since none can conceive it but he who has
it; and none can have it but by divine communica¬
tion. He never regarded calumny nor detraction (for
Boerhaave himself had enemies), nor ever thought it
necessary to confute them. “ They are sparks (said
he) which, if you do not blow, will go out of them¬
selves. The surest remedy against scandal, is to live
it down by a perseverance in well-doing; and by pray¬
ing to God that he would cure the distempered minds
of those who traduce and injure us.” Being once ask¬
ed by a friend, who had often admired his patience
under great provocations, whether he knew what it
was to be angry, and by what means he had so entirely
suppressed that impetuous and ungovernable passion ? Bor rhaave
he answered, with the utmost frankness and sincerity,
that he was naturally quick of resentment: but that . oet 1,Blh .
he had, by daily prayer and meditation, at length at¬
tained to this mastery over himself.
About the middle of the year 1737, ^
approaches of that fatal illness which brought him to
the grave, viz. a disorder in his breast, which was at
times very painful, often threatening him with imme¬
diate suffocation, and terminated in an universal drop¬
sy : but during this afflictive and lingering illness, his
constancy and firmness did not forsake him ; he neither
intermitted the necessary cares of life, nor forgot the
proper preparations of death. About three weeks be¬
fore his dissolution, when the Rev. Mr Schultens, one
of the most learned and exemplary divines of the age,
attended him at his country-house, the doctor desired
his prayers, and afterwards entered into a most re¬
markably judicious discourse with him on the spiritual
and immaterial nature of the soul; and this he illustra¬
ted to Mr Schultens with wonderful perspicuity, by a
description of the effects which the infirmities of his
body had upon his faculties ; which yet they did not
so oppress or vanquish, but his soul was always master of
itself, and always resigned to the pleasure of its Ma¬
ker—and then he added, “ He who loves God ought
to think nothing desirable but what is most pleasing to
the supreme goodness.” These were his sentiments,
and such was his conduct in this state of weakness and
pain. As death approached nearer, he was so far from
terror or confusion, that he seemed less sensible of pain,
and more cheerful under his torments, which conti¬
nued till the 23d day of September, 1738, on which
he died (much honoured and lamented) between four
and five in the morning, in the 70th year of his age—
often recommending to the bye-standers a careful ob¬
servation of St John’s precepts concerning the love of
God, and the love of man, as frequently inculcated in
his first epistle, particularly in the fifth chapter. His
funeral oration was spoken in Latin before the uni¬
versity of Leyden, to a very numerous audience, by
Mr Schultens, and afterwards published at their parti¬
cular desire. He wrote, I. Institutiones Medicce. 2.
Aphorismi de cognoscendis et curandis Morbis. 3. In¬
stitutiones et Experimenta Che mice. 4. Libellus de Ma¬
teria Me die a, et remedionim formulis quee serviunt a-
phorismus. Swieten published, Commentaries upon his
Aphorisms, in 5 vols 4to; and several other works, all
greatly esteemed.
BOERHAAVIA. See Botany Index.
BOESCHOT, a town of the Netherlands, in the
province of Brabant, seated on the river Nethe, in E.
Long. 4.45. N. Lat. 51. 5.
BOETHIUS, or Boetius, Flavius Anicius Man¬
lius Torq.uatus Severinus, a prose as well as poetical
writer of the 6th century, born of one of the noblest
families of the city of Rome. The time of his birth
is related to have been about that period in the Roman
history when Augustulus, whose fears had induced him
to a resignation of the empire, was banished, and Odoa-
cer king of the Herulians began to reign in Italy, viz. in
the year of Christ 476, or somewhat after. The father
of Boetius dying while he was yet an infant, his relations
undertook the care of his education and the direction of
his studies. His excellent parts were soon discovered }
5 D 2 andj
BOE [764] BOG
Boethiai. and, as well to enrich his mind with the study of philo-
‘ sophy as to perfect himself in the Greek language, he
was sent to Athens. Returning young to Rome, he was
soon distinguished for his learning and virtue, and pro¬
moted to the principal dignities in the state, and at
length to the consulate. Living in great affluence and
splendour, he addicted himself to the study of theology,
mathematics, ethics, and logic $ and how great a master
he became in each of these branches of learning, ap¬
pears from those works of his now extant. The great
offices which he bore in the state, and his consummate
wisdom and inflexible integrity, procured him such a
share in the public councils, as proved in the end his
destruction : for as he employed his interest with the
king for the protection and encouragement of deserv¬
ing men, so he exerted his utmost efforts in the detec¬
tion of fraud, the repressing of violence, and the de¬
fence of the state against invaders. At this time Theo-
doric the Goth had attempted to ravage Campania ;
and it was owing to the vigilance and resolution of
Boetius that this country was preserved from destruc¬
tion. At length, having murdered Odoacer, Theo-
doric became king of Italy, where he governed 33
years with prudence and moderation, during which
time Boetius possessed a large share of his esteem and
confidence. It happened about this time that Justin,
the emperor of the east, upon his succeeding to Ana-
stasius, made an edict condemning all the Arians, ex¬
cept the Goths, to perpetual banishment from the east¬
ern empire: in this edict Hormisda bishop of Rome,
and also the senate, concurred. But Theodoric, who,
as being a Goth, was an Arian, was extremely trou¬
bled at it j and conceived an aversion against the se¬
nate for the share they had borne in this proscription.
Of this disposition in the king, three men of profligate
lives and desperate fortunes, Gaudentius, Opilio, and
Basilius, took advantage. Having entertained a se¬
cret desire of revenge against Boetius, for having been
instrumental in the dismission of the latter from a lu¬
crative employment under the king, they accused him
of several crimes $ such as the stifling a charge, the
end whereof was to involve the whole senate in the
guilt of treason j and an attempt, by dethroning the
king, to restore the liberty of Italy j and, lastly, they
suggested, that, to acquire the honours he was in pos¬
session of, Boetius had had recourse to magical art.
Boetius was at this time at a great distance from Rome ;
however, Theodoric transmitted the complaint to the
senate, enforcing it with a suggestion that the safety,
as well of the people as the prince, was rendered very
precarious by this supposed design to exterminate the
Goths. The senate, perhaps fearing the resentment of
the king, and having nothing to hope from the success
of an enterprise which, supposing it ever to have been
meditated, was now rendered abortive, without summon¬
ing him to his defence, condemned Boetius to death.
The king, however, apprehending some bad consequence
from the execution of a sentence so flagrantly unjust,
mitigated it to banishment. The place of his exile was
Ticinum, now the city of Pavia, in Italy. Being in
that place separated from his relations, who had not
been permitted to follow him into his retirement, he en¬
deavoured to derive from philosophy those comforts
which that alone was capable of affording to one in his
forlorn situation, sequestered from his friends, in the Boethiu*
power of his enemies, and at the mercy of a capricious |)
tyrant; and accordingly he there composed that valu- Bogomil},
able discourse, entitled, De Consolatio7ie Philosophies.
About two years after his banishment Boetius was be¬
headed in prison by the command of Theodoric. His
tomb is to be seen in the church of St Augustine, at
Pavia, near the steps of the chancel.
The extensive learning and eloquence of this great
man are conspicuous in his works, which seem to have
been collected with great care : an edition of them was
printed at Venice, in one volume folio, in 1499. In
1570, Glareanus, of Basil, collated that with several
manuscripts, and published it, with a few various read¬
ings in the margin. His chief performance is that
above mentioned, He Consolatione Philosophies ; a work
well known in the learned world, aud to which the af¬
flicted have often applied. In particular, our Saxon
King Alfred, whose reign, though happy upon the
whole, was attended with great vicissitudes of fortune,
had recourse to it at a time when his distresses com¬
pelled him to seek retirement : and that he might the
better impress upon his mind the noble sentiments in¬
culcated in it, he made a complete translation of it in¬
to the Saxon language, which, within these few years,
has been given to the world in its proper character.
And Camden relates, that Queen Elizabeth, during
the time of her confinement by her sister Mary, to mi¬
tigate her grief, read and afterwards translated it into
very elegant English. But it deserves also particular
notice, that hs is the most considerable of all the Latin
writers on music ; and that his treatise De Musica sup¬
plied for some centuries the want of those Greek manu¬
scripts which were supposed to have been lost.
BOG properly signifies a quagmire, covered with
grass, but not solid enough to support the weight of
the body j in which sense it differs only from marshes
or fens, as a part from the whole : some even restrain
the term hog to quagmires pent up between two hills j
whereas fens lie in champaign and low countries, where
the descent is very small.—To drain boggy lands, a
good method is, to make trenches of a sufficient depth
to carry off the moisture; and if these are partly filled
up with rough stones, and then covered with thorn-
bushes and straw, to keep the earth from filling up the
interstices, a stratum of good earth and turf may be
laid over all ; the cavities among the stones will give
passage to the water, and the turf will grow at top.
Bog, or Bog of Gight, a small town of Scotland,
seated near the mouth of the river Spey, in W. Long.
2. 23. N. Lat. 57. 48.
BOGALCUND, a province of Hindostan. See
Supplement.
BOGARMITiE. See Bogomili.
BOGHO, or Bueil, a town in the county of Nice
in Piedmont, situated in the frontiers of France, in
E. Long. 6. 45. N. Lat. 44. 12.
BOGLIO, a district in the territories of the duke of
Savoy, lying on the river Tinea on the frontiers of Pro¬
vence j the capital is of the same name.
Boglio, a town of Piedmont, and county of Nice,
being the capital of a territory of the same name. E.
Long. 6. 55. N. Lat. 44. 5.
BOGOMILT, or Bogarmita, in church history,
»
BOH L 765 ] BOH
iogomili a sect of heretics, which sprung up about the year 1179.
U They held, that the use of churches, of the sacrament
ohemia. 0f the Lord’s Supper, and all prayer, except the Lord’s
prayer, ought to be abolished ; that the baptism of ca¬
tholics is imperfect; that the persons of the Trinity are
unequal j and that they oftentimes made themselves vi¬
sible to those of their sect. They said, that devils dwelt
in the churches, and that Satan had resided in the tem¬
ple of Solomon from the destruction of Jerusalem to
their ovni time.
BOGOTA, or Santa Fe de Bogota, the capital
of New Granada in South America, belonging to Spain.
It was taken by the Independents under Bolivar in 1819.
W. Long. 74. 10. N. Lat. 4. 35.
BOGUDIANA (Pliny), a part of the Mauritania
Tingitana in Africa. According to Cluverius, it is the
Tingitana, anciently so called from King Bogud.
BOH AD DIN, an eminent Arabian writer. See
Supplement.
BOHEA, in commerce, one of the coarsest kinds of
tea that come from China. See Thea.
BOHEMIA, a kingdom of Europe subject to the
house of Austria, and surrounded on every side with
woods and mountains as with a natural rampart. It is
bounded on the east by Moravia and part of Silesia, on
the north by Lusatia and Upper Saxony, on the west
by Franconia, and on the south by Bavaria. Although
this kingdom is situated in the middle of Germany,
and its king is an elector of the empire, it has never-
theless its particular assemblies, customs, and language,
different from the Germans. It is one of the most ele¬
vated countries of Europe : for no river enters into it,
though many have their source there j the chief of which
are the Elbe, the Oder, the Vistula, and the Morava.
Its greatest length is 200 miles, its breadth 180, and
it comprehends an area of 20,000 square miles. The
climate of the interior is temperate and healthy, but on
the frontiers it is raw and inclement, on account of the
high grounds. The soil is generally rich. Besides
corn, flax, hemp, hops, saffron, it produces wine, though
only in small quantity. Nearly one-third of the coun¬
try is covered with wood. It is rich in minerals. Its
gold mines are exhausted : but it has mines of silver,
iron, mercury, copper, lead, cobalt, zinc, calamine, an¬
timony, pit coal; and its mines of tin are next in value
to those of Cornwall. Its manufactures consist of yarn,
linen, cambric, stockings, lace, woollen stuffs, glass,
cotton and silk stuff's, leather, &c. and amounted in va¬
lue in 1792 to 3,630,000!. sterling, of which about a
third is exported.
Bohemia is the most populous of all the Austrian do¬
minions beyond the Alps. The number of inhabitants
in 1789 was 2,852,463, and in 18x7 it was 3,236,140.
The Bohemian nobility consist of xo princes, no counts,
82 barons, and 238 knights. The original language of
the people is a dialect of the Sclavonian j but German
is spoken in all the large towns. The established re¬
ligion is the Roman Catholic 5 but there are about
100,000 dissenters, consisting of Jews, Lutherans, and
Calvinists. There is a university at Prague, the chief
town, and there are about 2200 schools in the country.
The name Bohemia, in the German language, signi¬
fies the home or abode of the Boii, a people of ancient
Gaul, who under their leader Sergovesus settled in that
country about 500 years before the Christian era.
These Boii were soon after expelled by the Marcoman-
ni, a nation of the Suevi, who were afterwards subdued Bohemia,
by the Sclavi, a people of Scythia, whose language is ' — v—n
still spoken in Bohemia and Moravia. Notwithstand¬
ing this expulsion of the Boii, the present inhabitants
are still called Bohemians by foreigners, but the natives
call themselves Lechs. At first they were governed by
dukes ; but the emperor Otho 1. conquered the duke
of Bohemia, and reduced the province under the em¬
pire. Afterwards Henry V. gave the title of king to
Ladislaus duke of Bohemia; and since that time these
kings have been electors and chief cup-beai'ers of the
empire, and the kingdom has been elective; which pri¬
vileges have been confirmed by the golden bull. For¬
merly the kings of Bohemia received the kingdom as a
fief of the empire, which ceremony was practised upon
the frontiers ; after which the standards of the princi¬
palities of which it is composed were given to them,
without being torn and given to the people, as is done
with the ensigns of the other fiefs of the empire. Fer¬
dinand I. of Austria, having married Anne, sister of
Louis, last king of Bohemia, who died without issue,
and being elected king, that kingdom has remained in
his family ever since. But the crown is conferred with
some appearance of election ; which right the states of
Bohemia still pretend to claim, notwithstanding that,
by the treaty of Westphalia, Bohemia is declared here¬
ditary in the house of Austria.
The king of Bohemia was formerly the first secular
elector, and gave his opinion after the elector of Co¬
logne. The states of Bohemia have never been com¬
prehended in the government or in the circles of the
empire ; they ai-e not subject to any of its jurisdictions,
nor to the Roman months, taxes, or public contributions ;
and they owed nothing to the empire but what the king
voluntarily imposed upon himself. The government of
Bohemia is different from that of all other states, the
affairs of the kingdom being managed by six different
courts. First, the council of the x’egency, or the great
royal council, in which presides the great judge or bur-
grave of Bohemia, and who has under him 18 lieute¬
nants of the king and other assessors. Secondly, The
council or superior chamber of justice, at which the
great master of the kingdom is president. Thirdly, The
chamber of fiefs. Fourthly, The new tribunals to judge
the appeals of the German vassals in their differences
on the account of fiefs; which court has also its presi¬
dent, vice-president, and assessors. Fifthly, The royal*
chamber of finances, which has a president and vice-
president. Sixthly, The chancery, which always fol¬
lows the court. Besides, every circle of Bohemia is
governed by two bailiffs, who administer justice in their
prefectui’e. The states ai’e composed of the clergy,,
lords, nobles, and burghers.. As to Moravia, there is
a grand bailiff who governs it in the name of the king
of Bohemia, as margrave of Moravia. He is at the head
of the royal council, which is composed of three assessoi’s,.
and in which all is transacted in the name of the king.
This province is divided into five circles,, each of which •
has a bailiff* There are, besides^ other officers of jus¬
tice, who have a right of judging only at certain times,,
and in particular cases, where an appeal is allowed.
Bohemia was divided by the emperor Charles FV.
into 12 provinces,, in each of which he ordered two
captains to be appointed every year for the administra--
tion of the government. The same emperor caused the
church,of Rrague to be erected into, ao, archbishopric,.
withi
B O I
[
Bobcmia with this advantage, that the archbishop of Prague
|{ should have the prerogative that the archbishop of
Botemum. Mentz formerly enjoyed, viz. of crowning the king of
Bohemia. The duchy of Silesia, the marquisate of Mo¬
ravia, and that of Lusatia, formerly held of this crown ;
but now only that of Moravia, which is incorporated
with the kingdom of Bohemia, and is in the possession
of the house of Austria. The total revenue of Bohemia
is about 2,ooo,oool. sterling} and its peace esta¬
blishment amounts to 50,000 or 60,000 men.
The only remarkable occurrence in the Bohemian hi-
tory is the rebellion of the disciples of John Huss, and
Jerome of Prague, on account of their leaders having
been burnt as heretics. This occasioned a bloody war
of 16 years continuance; for a particular account of
which, see the article HUSSITES.
BOHEMIAN bole. See Bole.
Bohemian Brethren, a sect of Christian reformers
which sprung up in Bohemia in the year 1467. They
treated the pope and cardinals as antichrist, and the
church of Rome as the whore spoken of in the Revela¬
tion. They rejected the sacraments of the Romish
church, and chose laymen for their ministers. They
held the Scriptures to be the only rule of faith, and re¬
jected the popish ceremonies in the celebration of the
mass, nor did they make use of any other prayer than
the Lord’s Prayer. They consecrated leavened bread.
They allowed no adoration but of Jesus Christ, in the
communion. They rebaptized all such as joined them¬
selves to their congregation. They abhorred the wor¬
ship of saints and images, prayers for the dead, celibacy,
vows, and fasts ; and kept none of the festivals but
Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide.
In 1504, they were accused by the Catholics to
King Ladislaus II. who published an edict against them,
forbidding them to hold any meeting either privately
or publicly. When Luther declared himself against
the church of Rome, the Bohemian Brethren endea-
•voured to join his party. At first, that reformer showed
a great aversion to them; but the Bohemians sending
their deputies to him in 1523 with a full account of
their doctrines, he acknowledged that they were a so¬
ciety of Christians whose doctrines came nearest to the
purity ol the gospel. The sect published another con¬
fession of faith in I535> i*1 which they renounced ana-
baptism, which they at first practised : upon which a
union was concluded with the Lutherans, and afterwards
with the Zuinglians, whose opinions from thenceforth
they continued to follow.
BOHOL, one of the Philippine islands in Asia, ly¬
ing to the northward of Mindanao, in E. Long. 122. 5.
N. Lat. 10. o.
BOIANO, a town of Italy, in the kingdom of Na-
ples, and county of Molese, with a bishop’s see. It is
seated at the foot of the Apennines, near the river Ti-
lerno, in E. Long. 14. 38. N. Lat. 41. 30.
BOIARDO, Matteo Maria, of Ferrara, count
of Scandiano, celebrated for his Italian poems, lived in
the 15th century. His principal work is his Orlando
inamorato. His Latin eclogues and sonnets are also much
admired.
BOJARS, denote Russian noblemen. See Russia,
boiemum, in Ancient Geography, a part of Ger¬
many, surrounded with the Montes Sudeti (Ptolemy) ;
now called Bohemia. It took its name from the Boii,
* people of Gaul, who removed thither before Csesar’s
766 ] B O I
expedition into that conntry, (Caesar) ; though he seems BQ{fl
to err in the name. The Boii were afterwards driven |j Um
out by the Marcomanni, and settled in the west of Vin- Boik-au.
delicia, which was afterwards called Bayern, and hence V"" *
the name Bavaria.
-RGII, (Caesar) ; a people of Celtica, extending from
the Ligeris to the Elaver, whence came the Boii of
Gallia Cisalpina, whose migration is related by Livy.
Bon. See Bohemia.
BOIGUACU, in Zoology, a synonyme of the boa
constrictor. See Boa, Ophiology Index.
BOIL, or Furuncle. See the Index subjoined to
Medicine and Surgery.
BOILEAU, Sieur Nicholas Despreaux, a ce¬
lebrated French poet, was born at Paris in 1636. Af¬
ter he had gone through his course of polite literature
and philosophy, his relations engaged him to the study
of the law, and he was admitted advocate. But though
he had all the talents necessary for the bar, yet he could
not adapt himself to a science which turns upon conti¬
nual equivocations, and often obliges those who follow
it to clothe falsehood in the garb of truth. He there¬
fore determined to study theology ; but he could not
long endure the thorns of school divinity. He imagined,
that, to allure him more cunningly, chicanery, which
he thought to avoid, had only changed her habit; and
so he renounced the Sorbonne, betook himself entirely
to the belles lettres, and took possession of one of the
foremost places in Parnassus. The public gave his
works the encomium they deserved; and Louis XIV.
who always loved to encourage the sciences and polite
literature, was not only pleased to have M. Boileau’s
works read to him constantly as he composed them,
but settled a yearly pension of 2000 livres upon him,
and gave him the privilege of printing all his works.
He was afterwards chosen a member of the French aca¬
demy, and also of the academy of medals and inscrip¬
tions. This great man, who was as remarkable for his
integrity, his innocence, and diffusive benevolence, as
for the keenness of his satires, died of a dropsy on the
2d of March 1711, in the 75th year of his age. The
Lutrin of Boileau, still considered by some French
critics of the present time as the best poem to which
France has given birth, was first published in 1674.
It is with great reason and justice that Voltaire con¬
fesses the Lutrin inferior to the Rape of the Lock.
Few poets can so properly be compared as Pope and
Boileau ; and, wherever their writings will admit of
comparison, we may, without any national partiality,
adjudge the superiority to the English bard. These
two great authors resembled each other as much in the
integrity of their lives, as in the subjects and execu¬
tion of their several compositions. There are two ac¬
tions recorded of Boileau, which sufficiently prove that
the inexorable satirist had a most generous and friendly
heart. When Patru, the celebrated advocate, who was
ruined by his passion for literature, found himself un¬
der the painful necessity of selling his extensive library,
and had almost agreed to part with it for a moderate
sum, Boileau gave him a much superior price; and,
after paying the money, added this condition to the
purchase, that Patru should retain, during his life, the
possession of the books. The succeeding instance of
the poet’s generosity is yet nobler when it was ru¬
moured at court that the king intended to retrench the
pension of Corneille, Boileau hastened to Madame de
Montespan,
B O I [ 767 ] B O I
Boileau, Montespan, and said, that his sovereign, equitable as
Boiling, he was, could not, without injustice, grant a pension
to an author like himself, just ascending Parnassus, and
take it from Corneille, who had so long been seated
on the summit 5 that he entreated her, for the honour
of the king, to prevail on his majesty rather to strike
off his pension, than to withdraw that reward from a
man whose title to it was incomparably greater; and
that he should more easily console himself under the
loss of that distinction, than under the affliction of see¬
ing it taken away from such a poet as Corneille. This
magnanimous application had the success which it de¬
served, and it appears the more noble, when we recol¬
lect that the rival of Corneille was the intimate friend
of Boileau. The long unreserved intercourse which
subsisted between our poet and Racine was highly be¬
neficial and honourable to both. The dying farewell
of the latter is the most expressive eulogy on the pri¬
vate character of Boileau : “ Je regarde comme un
bonheur pour moi de mourir avant vous^ said the ten¬
der Racine, in taking a final leave of his faithful and
generous friend.
BOILING, or Ebullition, the bubbling up of
any fluid. The term is most commonly applied to
that bubbling which happens by the application of fire,
though that which ensues on the mixture of an acid
and alkali is sometimes also distinguished by the same
name. Boiling, in general, is occasioned by the dis¬
charge of an elastic fluid through that which is said to
boil j and the appearance is the same, whether it is
common air, fixed air, or steam, that makes its way
through the fluid. The boiling of water is proved by
Dr Hamilton of Dublin, in his essay on the ascent of
vapour, to be occasioned by the lowermost particles of
the water being heated and rarefied into vapour by rea¬
son of the vicinity of the bottom of the containing ves¬
sel j in consequence of which, being greatly inferior in
specific gravity to the surrounding fluid, they ascend
with great velocity, and lacerating and pushing up the
body of water in their ascent, give it the tumultuous
motion called boiling. That this is occasioned by steam,
and not by particles of air or fire, as some have imagined,
may be very easily proved in the following manner :
Let a common drinking glass be filled with hot water,
and then inverted into a vessel of the same : as soon as
the water in the vessel begins to boil, large bubbles will
be observed to ascend in the glass, which will displace
the water in it, and in a short time there will be a con¬
tinual bubbling from under its edge ; but if the glass is
then drawn up, so that its mouth may only touch the
water, and a cloth dipt in cold water be applied to the
outside, the steam within it will be instantly condensed,
and the water will ascend so as to fill it entirely, or
very nearly so. See the article Evaporation.
Boiling, in trade and manufactures, is a prepara¬
tion given to divers sorts of bodies by making them
pass over the fire, chiefly in water, though sometimes
in other liquors. In this sense we speak of the boiling
of salt, boiling of sugar, copperas, &c.
Soiling of Silk with Soap is the first preparation in
order to dyeing it. Thread is also boiled in a strong
lixivium of ashes to prepare it for dyeing.
Boiling, in the culinary art, is a method of dres¬
sing meats by coction in hot water, intended to soften
them, and dispose tliera for easier digestion. The ef¬
fects of boiling are different according to the kinds Boiling
and qualities of the water. Pulse boiled in sea-water ||
grow harder: mutton boiled in the same becomes softer ®°‘.s
and tenderer than in fresh water, but tastes saltish and , Cmii61'
bitter.
Soiling to Death (caldariis decoquere), in the mid¬
dle age $ a kind of punishment inflicted on thieves,
false coiners, and some other criminals.
Boiling is also a method of trying or essaying the
goodness or falseness of a colour or dye. The stuff" is
to be boiled in water with certain drugs, different ac¬
cording to the kind or quality of the colour, to try
whether or no it will discharge, and give a tincture to
the water. With this view crimson silks are boiled
with alum, and scarlets with soap, in quantity equal to
the weight of the silk.
Soiling- Wells, in Natural History* See B urn in G-
Springs, and ICELAND.
BOINITZ, a town of Upper Hungary, in the
county of Zell, remarkable for its baths and the quan¬
tity of saffron that grows about it. E. Long. 19. 10.
N. Lat. 48. 42.
BOIOBI, in Zoology, the name of a species of ser¬
pent found in America, and called by the Portuguese
cobra de verd. It is about an ell in length, of the
thickness of a man’s thumb, and is all over of a very
beautiful and shining green. Its mouth is very large,
and its tongue black. It loves to be about houses,
and never injures any creature unless provoked or hurt 5
but it will then bite, and its poison is very fatal. The
natives take as a remedy against its poison, the root
caa apia bruised and mixed with water. See Gaa
Apia.
BOIORUM Deserta, in Ancient Geography, a di¬
strict of Pannonia, so called from the excision of the
■Boii by the Getae. Now the Weinerwald, of Lower
Austria, towards Stiria, to the east of Mount Cetius,
or the Hahlenberg, and south of Vindobona or Viennao
BOIQUIRA, the American name for the rattle¬
snake.
BOIS-le-duc, called by the Dutch Hertogen-bosch,
a large, strong, and handsome town of the Nether¬
lands, in Dutch Brabant, seated between the rivers
Dommel and Aa, among morasses, in E. Long. 6. l6.
N. Lat. 51. 45.
Sois de Soignies, the forest of Soignies in the Au¬
strian Netherlands and province of Brabant, about
three miles south-east of Brussels.
Sois de Coissi, the name given to a South American
tree growing about Surinam, held in the highest esti-,
mation by the Indians in that part of the world, and
now recommended to the physicians of Europe by Dr
Fernin in a treatise lately published at Amsterdam.
The root is esteemed an excellent stomachic, restoring
the appetite and assisting digestion j but it is chiefly
celebrated as an infallible remedy against even the most
inveterate intermittents. It is said also to.be used with
great safety and advantage in every species of remit¬
tent and continued fever, with patients of all ages,
sexes, and conditions, even during pregnancy, and in
the puerperal state. Before employing it, however, it
is absolutely necessary to administer either a purgative
or emetic. The best method of exhibiting it is in de¬
coction : half an ounce of the bark of the root must
be boiled in a close vessel with six pints of water till one
half
B O K [ 768 ] * B O K
Bois dc half be consumed; the decoction Is then strained off,
Ooissi and a cupful taken every two hours till the fever is
Bokhara ent‘rety extinguished. Six or seven days after a cure
^ is thus performed, it is generally necessary to repeat
the purgative.
BOISSARD, John James, a famous antiquarian,
born at Besan^n the capital of Tranche Compte in
France. He published several collections which are
of great use to such as are desirous to understand the
Koman antiquities. He had a great passion for this
study; and drew with his own hand plans of all the
ancient monuments of Italy. He died at Metz, Octo¬
ber 30th, 1602. His principal works are, 1. Four vo¬
lumes in folio of Roman antiquities, adorned with plates
engraved by Theodore de Bey and his two sons. 2.
Theatrum Vitce Humance ; which contains the lives of
198 famous persons, with their portraits. 3. A treatise
He Divinatione et Magicis Prastigiis. These works
are scarce, and esteemed by the antiquarians.
BOIT, an excellent painter in enamel. He was
born in Stockholm, and bred a jeweller ; which pro¬
fession he intended to follow in England ; but changed
his design, and went into the country, where he taught
children to draw'. He there engaged a gentleman’s
daughter, who was one of his scholars, to promise him
marriage ; but the affair being discovered, he was
thrown into prison. In that confinement, which lasted
two years, he studied enamelling ; an art to which he
fixed, on his return to London, and practised with the
greatest success. The prices he is said to have obtain¬
ed for his work are almost incredible : but being en¬
gaged in a very large design for the court, and Queen
Anne dying before it was completed, he ran in debt, his
goods were seized by execution, and he fled to France;
where he changed his religion, was countenanced by
the regent, and obtained a pension of 250I. per annum,
but died suddenly at Paris in 1726. There is a large
piece done by him at Kensington, representing Queen
Anne sitting, and Prince George standing by her 5 and
at Bedford-house is another very large plate of the
duke’s father and mother.
BOITJAPO, in 'Zoology, the name of a species of
serpent found in America; and called by the Portu¬
guese there, cobra di apo. It grows to seven or eight
feet long, is about the thickness of a man’s arm, and
very small and taper towards the tail. Its back is of
an olive colour ; its belly yellow', and covered with
very regular and elegant triangular scales. It feeds on
frogs, &c. but is very poisonous, and its bite extremely
fatal.
BOKHARA, a city of Tartary, in Asia, and capi¬
tal of Great Bukharia, situated one day’s journey to the
north of the river Jehun, or Amu j in E. Long. 62. 45.
N. Lat. 39. 15. In 1219 it w'as besieged by Jenghiz
Khan, as being part of Sultan Mohammed’s domi¬
nions, a descendant of the famous Mahmud Gazni.
At that time, besides the city-walls, which were very
strong, Bokhara had an outward enclosure 12 leagues
in compass ; which shut in not only the suburbs, but
also many pleasant seats and farms watered by the ri¬
ver Sogbd, from whence the ancient Sogdiana took its
name. The Mogul army arrived before the place in
July, and continued the siege during the following
winter. In March 1220, they forced the outer wall,
and began to besiege the city in form. Sultan Mo-
3
hammed had left in the city a very numerous garrison Bokhara
under the command of three generals, who made a sally 1 ‘
at the head of 20,000 men : but being repulsed with
great loss, their courage failed them ; and, instead of
staying to defend the inhabitants, as soon as they had
got into the city by one gate, passed out by another
with their families, and almost all their soldiers, hoping
to escape by the darkness of the night; but their de¬
sign being discovered, they were pursued by a detach¬
ment ot 30,000 Moguls; and being overtaken at the
river Amu, they were, after a bloody dispute, almost
all cut to pieces. Mean time, Jenghiz Khan, being in¬
formed ol the confusion into which the city had been
thrown by the desertion of the garrison, ordered an at¬
tack to be made on all sides at once ; but while he was
preparing for this, the magistrates and clergy went ,
out and presented him with the keys of the city. Jen¬
ghiz Khan granted them their lives, on condition that
they gave no shelter to any of the sultan’s soldiers, and
put out all who should be suspected of being in that
prince’s interest ; which they promised to do upon
oath. All the young people, however, who were dis¬
pleased with the surrender, retired with the governor
to the castle, which w'as very strong, and resolved to
defend themselves to the last extremity. Jenghiz Khan
having taken possession of Bokhara, entered on horse¬
back into the great mosque, and asked merrily if that
was the sultan’s palace? On being answered that it
was the house of God, he alighted ; and giving the
principal magistrate his horse to hold, mounted the gal¬
lery where the ecclesiastics usually sat, and then taking
up the Koran, threw it under the feet of his horses.
Having staid there for some time, he retired to his
camp ; where, some days after, having assembled the
principal people of Bokhara, and ascended a pulpit
erected for that purpose in the midst of them, he be¬
gan his speech by praising God, and recounted all the
favours he had received from the Almighty : he then
mentioned the perfidious behaviour of their sultan to¬
wards himself, telling them that God had sent him, to
rid the world of such wicked men. As to them, he
testified his satisfaction for their having freely furnish¬
ed his army with necessaries ; and promised that his
soldiers should not meddle with any goods which they
made use of in their houses ; but commanded them to
deliver up what they had hidden, under pain of being
tortured. This speech had such an effect, that the poor
inhabitants delivered up every thing, as well what they
had concealed as what they had present use for; not¬
withstanding which, the tyrant soon after caused the
city to be burnt, on pretence that some of the sultan’s
soldiers were concealed in it. As all the houses were
made of wood, except the sultan’s palace which was
built of stone, and some few private houses of brick,
the whole was utterly consumed ; and Jenghiz Khan
having found some few soldiers that had actually con¬
cealed themselves, put them all to death without mer¬
cy. The castle surrendered at discretion soon after ;
and though it was demolished, the governor and garri¬
son, out of a very extraordinary piece of clemency from
so bloody a tyrant, had their lives spared. Bokhara
continued in ruins for some years, but at length Jen¬
ghiz Khan ordered it to be rebuilt. It is now large
and populous; and is the residence of a khan who is
altogether despotic, though his power reaches but a
little
B O L • [ 769 ] B O L
Bokhara little way without the city. The town is seated on a distilled in a glass retort in an open fire, yielded three Boles
U rising ground, with a slender wall of earth and a dry drachms of a saline phlegm, which smelt a little uri- 0
Boles, ditch. The houses are low, built mostly of mud: but nous, and changed syrup of violets green. In the neck Bokyn,
^ the caravanseras and mosques, which are numerous, are of the retort was found a little powdery saline matter
all of brick. The bazars or market-places, which have which had an ammoniacal taste, hut it was in too small
been stately buildings, are now mostly in ruins. The quantity to be collected or further examined. Like
inhabitants are said to amount to 100,000, and are more most other coloured earths, this kind of bole contains
civilized and polite than some of their neighbours. Great a portion of ferruginous matter, to which the co¬
numbers of Jews and Arabians frequent this place. A lour is owing j and which may be separated by the
plan was proposed so far back as 1557, and revived in magnet, after the bole has been calcined with oil or
1741, for supplying the town with English goods j but other inflammable matters. It is likewise impregnated
it was found that the price brought was not sufficient with vitriolic acid ; and hence, when mixed with ni-
to indemnify the hazard of the conveyance. tre or sea salt, it extricates the acids of these salts in
BOL, Hans or John, a painter, born at Mechlin the fire,
in 1534. He received his first instructions from a ma- 2. French bole is of a pale red colour, variegated
ater of no great repute, whom he soon left j and going with irregular specks of white and yellow. It is much
to Heidelberg, employed himself in copying several softer than the Armenian, and slightly effervesces with
pictures of the eminent artists. His subjects are chiefly acids.
landscapes with animals ; but he also sometimes painted 3. Bole of Blois is yellow, remarkably lighter than
history, with no small success. We have by him a set most of the other yellow earths, and effervesces strong-
of landscapes, views in Holland, slightly etched, but in ly with acids.
a style that indicates the hand of the master. He died 4. Bohemian bole is of a yellow colour, with a cast
*n I593* red} antl generally of a flaky texture. It is not act-
Bol, Ferdinand, a celebrated painter both of hi- ed on by acids,
story and portraits, was born at Hort in 1611, and J. Lemnian earth is of a pale red colour, and slightly
educated at Amsterdam. In the school of the cele- effervesces with acids.
brated Rembrandt Gerretz, he received his instruc- 6. Silesian bole is of a pale yellow colour, and acids
tions as a painter; and imitated the style of his ma- have no sensible effect upon it.
ster with no little success, not only in his pictures but These and other earths, made into little masses, and
in his engravings. Bol’s etchings are bold and free, stamped with certain impressions, are called iterra? .STg//-
The lights and shadows in them are broad and power- latce. They have been recommended as astringent, su-
ful, which renders the effect very striking: but they dorific, and alexipharmic; but these and many other
want that lightness of touch and admirable taste which virtues that have been ascribed to them appear to have
those of Rembrandt possess in so great a degree. Bol no foundation. They are still, however, prescribed in
died at Dort, the place of his birth, in 1681, aged 70. fluxes and complaints of the primse vise.
BOKHARIA. See Bukharia. BOLESLAFF, or Buntzlau, a town of Silesia,
BOLANDUS, John, a famous Jesuit, born at Til- seated on the river Bobar, in E. Long. 16. o. N. Lat.
lemont in the Netherlands, in 1696. He distinguished 51.12.
himself by writing the lives of the saints, under the title BOLESLAUS I. and II. kings of Poland. See
of Acta Sanctorum, of which he published five volumes Poland.
in folio ; but died while he was labouring at the sixth, BOLETUS, Spunk. See Botany Index.
in the 70th year of his age. The continuators of that BOLEYN, Ann, queen of Henry VIII. of Eng-
work are called Bolandists. land ; memorable in the English history, as the first
BOLBIITNUM, in Ancient Geography, the second cause of the reformation, as the mother of Queen Eii-
mouth of the Nile reckoning from west to east; now zabeth under whom it was completely established, and
very small, choked up with sand, and called le Bras also on account of her own suflerings. She was the
de Beltm. daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, and born in 1507.
BOLENTIUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of She was carried into France at seven years of age by
Pannonia Superior ; now llackersburg in Stiria. See Henry VIII.’s sister, who was wife of Louis XII.: nor
Rackersburg. did she return into England when that queen retired
BOLES, are viscid earths, less coherent and more thither after the death of her husband ; but staid in the
friable than clay; more readily uniting with water, service of Queen Claudia the wife of Francis I. and after
and more freely subsiding from it. They are soft and the death of that princess went to the duchessof Alen^on.
unctuous to the touch ; adhere to the tongue : and by The year of her return is not well known : some will
degrees melt in the mouth, impressing a light sense of have it to have been in 1527, others in 1525. This
astringency. There is a great variety of these earths; much is certain, that she was maid of honour to Queen
the principal of which are the following. Catharine of Spain, Henry VIII.’s first wife; and that
I. Armenian bole, when pure, is of a bright red co- the king fell extremely in love with her. She behaved
lour with a tinge of yellow : It is one of the hardest herself with so much art and address, that by refusing
and most compact bodies of this class, and not smooth to satisfy his passion, she brought him to think of mar-
and glossy like the others, but generally of a rough rying her : and the king, deceived by her into a per-
and dusty surface. It does not effervesce with acids, suasion that he should never enjoy her unless he made
though some part of it is dissolved by all of them, her his wife, was induced to set on foot the affair of bis
Neuman observes, that four ounces of Armenian bole divorce with Catharine, which at last was executed
Vol. III. Part II. * f 5 E wkfr
B O L
Boleyn. with great solemnity and form
1 observes, that “ That which would have been very
praise-worthy on another occasion, was Anne Boleyn’s
chief crime: since her refusing to comply with an amo¬
rous king, unless lie would divorce his wife, was a
much more enormous crime than to have been his con¬
cubine. A concubine (says he) would not have de¬
throned a queen, nor taken her crown or her husband
from her ; whereas the crafty Anne Boleyn, by pre¬
tending to be chaste and scrupulous, aimed only at the
usurpation of the throne, and the exclusion of Catha¬
rine of Arragon and her daughters from all the honours
due to them.” In the mean time, Henry could not
procure a divorce from the Pope ; which, we know,
made him resolve at length to throw off his authority,
and to fling off his yoke. Nevertheless he married
Anne Boleyn privately upon the 14th of November
1532, without waiting any longer for a release from
Home *, and as soon as he perceived that his new wife
was with child, he made his marriage public. He cau¬
sed Anne Boleyn to be declared queen of England on
Easter-eve 1533, and to be crowned the first of June
following. She was brought to bed upon the yth of
September of a daughter, who was aftenvards Queen
Elizabeth j and continued to be much beloved by the
king, till the charms of Jane Seymour had fired that
prince’s heart in 1536. Then his love for his wife
was changed into violent hatred : he believed her to
be unchaste, and caused her to be imprisoned and tried.
“ She was indicted of high treason, for that she had
procured her brother and other four to lie with her,
which they had done often : that she had said to them,
that the king never had her heart ; and had said to
every one of them by themselves, that she loved him
better than any person whatever 5 which was to the
slander of the issue that was begotten between the king
and her. And this was treason according to the statute
made in the 26th year of this reign ; so that the law
which was made for her and the issue of her marriage,
is now made use of to destroy her.” She was con¬
demned to be either burnt or beheaded ; and she un¬
derwent the latter on the 19th of May 1536. The
right reverend author of the History of the Reformation,
relates some very remarkable things of her behaviour
during the time of her imprisonment, and a little before
her execution. When she was imprisoned, she is said
to have acted very different parts $ sometimes seeming
devout and shedding abundance of tears, then all of a
sudden breaking out into a loud laughter. A few
hours before her death, she said, that the executioner
was very handy •, and besides, that she had a very small
neck; at the same time feeling it with her hands, and
laughing heartily. However, it is agreed that she died
with great resolution ; taking care to spread her gown
about her feet, that she might fall with decency, as
the poets have related of Polyxena, and the historians
of Julius Caesar. Roman Catholic writers have taken
all occasions to rail at this unhappy woman, as well
through vexation at the schism which she occasioned, as
for the sake of defaming and dishonouring Queen Eliza¬
beth by this means; and they have triumphed vehe¬
mently, that in the long reign of that queen, no endea¬
vours were used to justify her mother. But either
Queen Elizabeth or her ministers are greatly to be ad¬
mired for prudence in this respect) since it is certain,
[ 770 ] B O L
A celebrated author that Anne Boleyn’s justification could never have been
carried on without discovering many things which must
have been extremely prejudicial to the queen, and have
weakened her right instead of establishing it. For'
though the representations of the papists are in nowise
to be regarded, yet many things might have been said
to the disadvantage ol her mother, without transgressing
the laws of true history 5 as that she was a woman gay
even to immodesty, indiscreet in the liberties she took,
and of an irregular and licentious behaviour.
BGLINGBRQKE, or Bullingbroke, a town of
Lincolnshire in England, and of great antiquity, but
now in a mean condition. It gives title of viscount to
the St Johns of Battersea. Population 361 in 1811.
E. Long. o. 40. N. Lat. 53. 15.
Bolingbroke, Henry St John, lord visount, a
great statesman and philosopher, descended from an
ancient and noble -family, was born about the year
1672. He had a regular and liberal education ; and
by the time he left the university, was considered as a
person of uncommon qualifications: but with great parts,
he had, as it usually happens, great passions, and these
hurried him into many indiscretions and follies. Con¬
trary to the inclinations of his family, he cultivated
Tory connections ; and gained such an influence in
the house of commons, that in 1704 he was appointed
secretary of war and of the marines. He was closely
united in all political measures with Mr Harley : when,
therefore, that gentleman was removed from the seals
in 1707, Mr St John resigned his employment 5 and
in 1710, when Mr Harley was made chancellor of the
exchequer, the post of secretary of state was given to
Mr St John. In 1712 he was created Baron St John
of Lediard-Tregoze in Wiltshire, and Viscount Bo¬
lingbroke. But being overlooked in the bestowal of
vacant ribbons of the order of the Garter, he resented
the affront, renounced the friendship of Harley then
earl of Oxford, and made his court to the Whigs. Ne¬
vertheless on the accession ol George I. the seals were
taken from him ; and being informed that a resolution
was taken to pursue him to the scaffold, for his con¬
duct regarding the treaty of Utrecht, he withdrew to
France. Here he accepted an invitation to enter into
the Pretender’s service, and accepted the seals as his
secretary 5 but he was as unfortunate in his new con¬
nections as in those he had renounced j for the year
17x5 was scarcely expired, when at the same time that
he was attainted of high treason at home, the seals and
papers of his foreign secretary’s office were taken from
him j followed by an accusation from the Pretender
and his party, of neglect, incapacity, and treachery.
Such a complication of distressful events threw him
into a state ol reflection, that produced by way of re¬
lief a consolatio philosophica, which he wrote the same
year under the title of Reflections upon exile ; and the
following year he drew up a vindication of his conduct
with respect to the Tories, in the form of A Letter to
Sir William Wyndham. His first lady being dead, he
about this time espoused, a niece of the famous Madame
Maintenon, and widow of the Marquis de Vilette, with
whom he had a very large fortune. In 1723 the king
was prevailed on to grant him a free pardon, and he
returned in consequence to England ) but was by no
means satisfied within, while he was yet no more than a
mere titular lord, and remained excluded from the
house
Bokyn,
lifoke.
B O L [ 7?i ] B O L
Boling- bouse of peers. This stigma operated to fix him in
broke enmity to Sir Robert Walpole, to whose secret enmity
(i he attributed his not receiving the full extent of the
Bologwc, clemency : hence he distinguished himself by a
multitude of poetical writings, till the year 1735 ; when
being thoroughly convinced that the door was finally
shut against him, he returned once more to France. In
this foreign retreat he began his course of Letters on
the study and use of History, for the use of Lord Com-
bury, to whom they are addressed. Upon the death
of his father, who lived to be extremely old, he settled
at Rattersea, the ancient seat of his family, where he
passed the remainder of his life in philosophical digni¬
ty. Pope and Swift, one the greatest poet, the other
tlie greatest wit of the time, perfectly adored him ; and
it is well known that the former received from him the
materials for his incomparable poem the “ Essay on
Man.”—He d ied in 1751, and left the care and bene¬
fit of his MSS. to Mr Mallet, who published them to¬
gether with his former printed work, in 5 vols. 410 ; they
are also printed in 8vo.
BOLiSAW, a town of the kingdom of Bohemia in
Germany, situated in E. Long. 14. 35. N. Lat. 20. 25.
BOLKOWITZ, a town of Silesia in the duchy of
Glogaw. E. Long. 15. 20. N. Lat. 51. 27.
BOLLARDS, large posts set into the ground on
each side of a dock. On docking or undocking ships,
large blocks are lashed to them ; and through these
blocks are reeved the transporting hawsers to be brought
to the capstans.
BOLLITO, a name by which the Italians call a
sea-green colour in artificial crystal. To prepare this
colour, you must have in the furnace a pot filled with
40 lb. of good crystal, first carefully skimmed, boiled,
and purified, w'ithout any manganese : then you must
have twelve ounces of the powder of small leaves of cop¬
per thrice calcined, and half an ounce of zaffre in pow¬
der : mix them together ; and put them at four times in¬
to the pot, that they may the better mix with the glass;
stirring them well each time of putting in the powder,
lest the mixture should swell and run over.
BOLOGNA, an ancient, large, and very handsome
town of Italy, in the territox-y of the church, and ca¬
pital of the Bolognese; an archbishop’s see, and an
university. The public buildings are magnificent, as
well with regard to the architecture as the ornaments,
especially the paintings, which are done by the gi’eatest
masters. There is a vast number of palaces, in one
of which the pope’s nuncio resides ; the private houses
are also well built. Here are 169 churches, and in
1806 the town contained 63,420 inhabitants. It is a
place of great trade, which is in some measure owing to
a canal that runs from the city to the river Po. The
Reno, which runs near Bologna, turns 400 mills that are
employed in the silk-works; besides, they deal in wax,
soap, hams, sausages, and even lap-dogs, which are
greatly esteemed. This city fell into the hands of the
French in 1796, was x-etaken by the Austrians in 1799,
but lost again after the battle of Marengo. It was re¬
stored to the pope in 1815. It is seated at the foot of
the Apennine mountains. E. Long. 11. 30. N. Lat.
44. 27.
BOLOGNE, by the English commonly called Bul-
len, a city of France, in the department of the Straits
of Calais, and capital of the Bolonnois, seated near the
sea. It is divided into two towns, the Upper and Bologne
Lower. The port is at the mouth of the river Lianne, ||
but the water is so shallow that no ships of burden can Bolswaert.
enter it. It is defended on the side of the river by a v"
mole, which shelters it from the winds, and at the same
time prevents the river from filling it with filth. It con¬
tained 10,140 inhabitants in 18x5. E. Long. 1. 40.
N. Lat. 50. 42.
BOLOGNESE, a small province of Italy, in the
territory of the church, bounded on the north by the
Ferrarese, on the west by the duchy of Modena, on
the south by Tuscany, and on the east by Romagna.
It is watered by a great number of small rivers, which
lender its soil the most fertile of any in Italy. Bologna
is the capital, and from the gx-eat produce of the land
about it is called Bologna the fat. It pi’oduces abun¬
dance of all sorts of grain and fruits ; particularly mus¬
cadine grapes, which are in high esteem. Here ai’e
mines of alum and iron ; and the inhabitants fabricate
large quantities of linen, silk stockings, and cloth. This
territory was overrun by the French in 1796, but was
restored to the pope in 1815.
Bolognese. See Grimaldi.
BOLOGNIAN or Bononian stone, a phosphoric
substance first discovered near Bologna in Italy, whence
it received its name. It has been supposed to contain
some metallic matter, on account of its great specific
gravity ; but it is now found to be only a compound
of ponderous earth and sulphuric acid. See Bary¬
tes, Mineralogy Index.
BOLSANE, a town of Germany, in the territory of
Tyrol, and circle of Austria. It is very agieeably si¬
tuated in the midst of a fine large valley, full of vil¬
lages, and abounding in vineyards. The wines in this
valley are the best in all Tyrol ; but they must be drank
the year after that of their growth, otherwise they be¬
come unfit for use. E. Long. 11. 11. N. Lat. 46.
42.
BOLSENNA, a town of Italy, in the territories of
the pope, seated on a lake of the same name. k E. Long.
II. 3. N. Lat. 42. 37.
BOLSTER, among surgeons, a soft yielding sub¬
stance, either laid under the head or a broken limb.
In this sense, bolsters ai’e contrived for crooked, bunch¬
ed, and otherwise distorted backs, shoulders, &c.
By a constitution made under Ai’chbishop Burchier,
the clergy are forbidden to wear bolsters about their
shoulders, in their gowns, coats, or doublets. The oc¬
casion of the prohibition is variously construed. Some
say that bolsters came in fashion in the reign of King
Richard III. who being necessitated, by his natural
deformity, to pad, the courtiers, and even the clergy,
did the same, out of complaisance to their prince ; so
that every body who had the misfortune to be horn
straight, was obliged to wear a bolster on his shoulders
to be in the fashion. Others, howevei’, controvert this;
alleging that the constitution above mentioned was
made 20 years before the usurpation of Richard.
Bolsters of a Saddle, those parts of a great saddle,
which are raised upon the bows, both before and be¬
hind, to hold the rider’s thigh, and keep him in a right
posture.
BOLSWAERT, a town of the United Provinces,
in West Friesland, and in the county of Westergoe.
E. Long. 5. 35. N. Lat. 53. 6.
5 E 2 BOLSWERT,
B o L [ 772 ] B O L
BoUwert. BOLSWERT, or Bolsuerd, Boetius Adam a, an VEspee, by Girard TInbault of Antwerp, where it was n 1
   engraver and pnntseller established at Antwerp, was published, A. D. 1628 5 and to these he signs his name
the descendant of a family who resided at the city of “ Scheltius,” and sometimes “ Shelderic Bolswert
Bolswert in Friesland, from whence he derived his adding the word Bruxelle. His name is usually af-
name. He flourished about 1620 j but by what ma- fixed to his plates in this manner, “ S. A. Bolswert.”
ster he was instructed in the art of engraving, does not It is very necessary to caution the collectors of this m’a-
appear. He worked with the graver only; the free ster’s works (those especially who are not very conver-
open style of the Bloemarts he imitated with great sue- sant with them), that many of them have been copied
cess ; and perhaps perfected himself in their school, in a very careful manner, so as easily to deceive the un-
V\hen he worked from Rubens, he altered that style ; skilful. Some of these copies, as the Marriage of the
and his plates are neater, fuller of colour, and more Virgin, from Rubens, &c. are by Lauwers. But
highly finished. The two following from this master those which are most likely to mislead, are by Ragot
may be here mentioned. 1. The resurrection of La- a French engraver, employed by Mariette the'printseL
zarus, a large upright plate. 2. The Last Supper, its ler, who frequently meeting with the reverses or coun-
companion. Basan, speaking of this print, says, that terproofs from the prints of Bolswert, gave them to
it proves by its beauty, and the knowledge with which the engraver ; and he imitated them with the utmost
it is engraved, that Boetius could sometimes equal his precision. By this means the impressions from the
brother Scheltius. t . plate copied come upon the paper the same way with
Bolswert, or Bolsuerd, Scheltius a, an admi- the original. It is true his name is usually affixed
rable engraver, was the brother of Boetius Adam a at the bottom ; but- it is often cut off, and then the
Bolswert mentioned in the preceding article. We copy is not easily distinguished from the original,
have no other account of his family than what is there Among other prints thus imitated by Ragot from
given ; nor unfortunately any of himself of the least Bolswert, is Christ crucified between the two Thieves
consequence. Hie time of Ins birth and of his death, where the soldier is represented piercing his side from
and the name of the master he studied under, are Rubens.
equally unknown. Bolswert worked entirely with the Among the variety of estimable engravings by this
graver, and never called in the assistance of the point, great artist, the few following may be here mentioned •
FIis general character as an artist is well drawn by Ba- 1. The Brazen Serpent, a large plate, lengthwise'
san, in the following words : ‘‘We have a large num- from Rubens. Those impressions are the most esti!
her of prints, which are held in great esteem, by this mable which have only the word Alntuerpice at the
artist, from various masters; hut especially from Rubens, right-hand corner, without the name of Giles Hendrix
whose pictures he has copied with all possible know- which was afterwards inserted above it, and part of the
ledge, taste, and great effect. The freedom with which small circle over the arms is left white. 2. Abra-
tlus excellent artist handled the graver, the picturesque ham offering his son Isaac, a large plate nearly square
roughness of etching, which he could imitate without from Theodore Rombout. 3. The education of the
any other assisting instrument, and the ability he pos- Virgin by Saint Anne, a middling-sized upright plate
sessed of distinguishing the different masses of colours, from Rubens. Those impressions without the name of
have always been admired by the connoisseurs, and give Hendrix are the most esteemed. 4. The marriage of
him a place in the number of those celebrated engra- the Virgin, a middling-sized upright plate, from the
vers, whose prints ought to he considered as models by same painter. Those impressions are best in which the
all historical engravers, who are desirous of rendering word Antuerpice is not added to the name of Hendrix,
their works as useful as they are agreeable, and of ac- 5. The adoration of the wise men, a middling-sized up-
quinng a reputation as lasting as it is justly merited.” right plate, from the same. The good impressions of
He drew excellently, and without any manner of his this plate have the name of Vanden Enden. 6. The
own ; for his prints are the exact transcripts of the pic- feast of Herod, in which is represented the daughter
tures he engraved from. His best works, though not of Herodias, presenting the head of John the Baptist
always equally neat or finished, are always beautiful, to her mother; a large plate, lengthwise, from the
and manifest the hand of the master. Sometimes we same. 7. The miraculous draught of fishes; a large
find his engravings are in a bold, free, open style ; as print lengthwise, on three plates, from the same. 8.
the Brazen Serpent, the Marriage of the Virgin, &c. Christ crowned with thorns ; a large upright plate from
from Rubens. At other times they are very neat and Vandyck : An admirable print; with the nameofVan-
sweetly finished : as, the Crowning with Thorns, and den Enden. 9. A crucifixion, where a figure appears
the Crucifixion, &c. from Vandyck. Mr Strutt ob- presenting the sponge to Christ, St John and the
serves, that his boldest engravings are from Rubens, Virgin are standing at the foot of the cross, and Mary
and his neatest from Vandyck and Jordaens.—How Magdalene is reclining towards it; a large upright
greatly Bolswert varied his manner of engraving ap- plate, from Vandyck. Of this admirable engraving
pears from some prints, which, like the greater part of there appear to have been four different impressions y
those of his brother Roetius, bear great resemblance to though Basan mentions only three, and says that in
the free engravings of the Bloemarts, and to those of the first the left hand of St John is hid. The chief
Frederic Bloemart especially ; and form a part of the marks of those impressions are r In the 1st, St John’s
plates for a large folio volume, entitled Academie de left hand appears on the shoulder of the Virgin (a).
In
(a) Prints-of this impression are very rare, and at sales have been known to fetch, from 25I. to 30I..
B O L [ 773 ] BO M
Bol*wert In the 2cl impression, the hand is erased : This Basan
H calls the first impression ; and it sells at a very high
. price. In the 3d impression, the hand is restored : In
the 4th, it is again erased : And in both, the short
strokes upon the ground near the great toe of the fi¬
gure who holds the sponge are crossed with second
strokes ; which cross-hatchings are not in the two first
impressions. There are several other crucifixions by the
same master after different designs. 10. The god Pan
playing upon his flute, from Jordaens. 11. Mercury
and Argus, a large plate lengthwise, from the same.
12. A drunken Silenus, supported by a satyr, and an¬
other figure •, a middling-sized upright plate, from Ru¬
bens. Of these three last, the impressions without the
address of Bloteling are the best. 13. A chase of lions :
a large plate lengthwise, from the same. 14. A variety
of landscapes.
BOLT, among builders, an iron fastening fixed to
doors and windows. They are generally distinguish¬
ed into three kinds, viz. plate, round and spring
bolts.
Bolts, in Gunnery, are of several sorts j as, 1. Tran-
sum-bolts, that go between the cheeks of a gun-car¬
riage, to strengthen the transums. 2. Prise bolts j the
large knobs of iron on the cheeks of a carriage, which
keep the handspike from sliding, when it is poizing up
the breech of a piece. 3. Traverse bolts ; the two short
bolts, that, being put one in each end of a mortar car¬
riage, serve to traverse her. 4. Bracket-bolts j the bolts
that go through the cheeks of a mortar, and by the
help of quoins keep her fixed at the given elevation.
And, 5. Bed bolts j the four bolts that fasten the
brackets of a mortar to the bed.
Bolts, in a ship, are iron pins, of which there are
several sorts, according to their different makes and
uses. Such are drive-bolts, used to drive out others.
Ray-bolts, with jags or barbs on each side, to keep
them from flying out of their holes. Clench-bolts,
which are clenched with rivetting hammers. Forelock-
bolts, which have at the end a forelock of iron driven
in to keep them from starting back. Set-bolts used
for forcing the planks, and bringing them close to¬
gether. Fend or fender bolts, made with long and
thick heads, and struck into the uttermost bends of the
ship, to save her sides from bruises. And ring-bolts,
used for bringing to of the planks, and those parts
whereto are fastened the breeches and tackling of the
guns.
Bolt of Canvas, in commerce, the quantity of 28
ells.
Bolt Rope, in naval affairs, a rope passing round the
sail, to which the edges of it are sewed, to prevent the
sail from tearing : the bottom part of it is called the
foot-rope ; the side leeches ; and if the sail be oblong or
square, the upper part is called the head-rope.
BOLTED flour, that which has passed through
the bolters. See the following article.
BOLTER, or Boulter, a kind of sieves for meal,
having the bottoms made of woollen, hair, or even wire.
The bakers use bolters which are worked by the hand $
millers have a larger sort, wrought by the motion of the
mill.
BOLTING, a term of art used in our inns of court,
whereby is intended a private arguing of cases. The
manner of it at Gray’s inn is thus; An ancient and
two barristers sit as judges ; three students bring each a Bolting
case, out of which the judges choose one to be argued ; 9
which done, the students first argue it, and after them Bomt>.,
the barristers. It is inferior to mooting : and may be *
derived from the Saxon word bolt, “ a house,” because
done privately in the house for instruction. In Lin¬
coln’s inn, Mondays and Wednesdays are the bolting
days in vacation time 5 and Tuesdays and Thursdays
the moot days.
Bolting, or Boulting, the act of separating the flour
from the bran by means of a sieve or bolter. See Bol¬
ter.
BoLTiNG-Cloth, or Bolster-cloth, sometimes also cal¬
led Boulting cloth, denotes a linen or hair-cloth for sift¬
ing meal or flour.
Bolting-MM, a versatile engine for sifting with
more ease and expedition. The cloth round this is callr
ed the bolter.
Bolting, or Boulting, among sportsmen, signifies
rousing or dislodging a coney from its resting place.
They say, to bolt a coney, staid a hare, rouse a buck,
&c.
BOLTON, or Boulton, Edmund, an ingenious
English antiquarian, who lived in the beginning of the
17th century. His most considerable work is that en¬
titled Nero Ccesar, or Monarchic depraved, dedicated
to the duke of Buckingham, lord-admiral, printed at
London 1624, folio, and adorned with several curious
and valuable medals. It is divided into 55 chapters,
in some of which are introduced curious remarks anti
observations. In the 24th and 25th chapters he gives
an account of the revolt in Britain, against the Ro¬
mans, under the conduct of Boadicea, which he intro¬
duces with a recapitulation of the affairs in Britain from
the first entrance of the Romans into this island under
Julius Csesar, till the revolt in the reign of Nero. In
chapter 36th he treats of the East India trade in Nero’s
time, which was then carried on by the river Nile, and
from thence by caravans over land to the Red sea, and
thence to the Indian ocean j the ready coin carried
yearly from Rome upon this account amounting, ac¬
cording to Pliny’s computation, to above 300,000!.
sterling *, and the usual returns in December and Ja¬
nuary yielding in clear gain a hundred for one. Be¬
sides this he wrote, 1. An English translation of Lu¬
cius Florus’s Roman History. 2, Hypercritica, or a
rule of judgment for reading or writing our histories.
3. The elements of armories, &c. $ and some other
works.
Bolton, a town of Lancashire in England, seated
on the river Croell. It has a manufacture of fustians,
and the market is considerable for cloth and provisions.
Great and Little Bolton together contained 24,149 in¬
habitants in I 811. W. Long. 2. 15, N. Lat. 53. 55.
BOLUS, in Pharmacy, an extemporaneous form of
a medicine, soft, coherent, a little thicker than ho¬
ney, and the quantity of which is a little morsel or
mouthful $ for which reason it is by some called buc-
cella.
BOMAL, a town of Luxemburg in the Nether¬
lands, situated on the river Ourt, in E. Long. 5. 30.
N. Lat. 50. 20.
BOMB, in military affairs, a large shell of cast iron,
having a great vent to receive the fusee, which is made
of wood. The shell being filled with gunpowder, the
fusee
bom [ 774 ] BO M
Bomb fusee is driven into the vent or aperture, within an inch
!’ of the head, and fastened with a cement made of quick-
.'ionil;ardo. ]]me? aslies? brick-dust, and steel filings, worked toge¬
ther in a glutinous water ; or of four parts of pitch,
two of colophony, one of turpentine, and one of wax.
This tube is filled with a combustible matter, made of
two ounces of nitre, one of sulphur, and three of gun¬
powder-dust, well rammed. To preserve the fusee,
they pitch it over, but uncase it when they put the
bomb into the mortar, and cover it with gunpowder-
dust } which having taken fire by the flash of the powder
in the chamber of the mortar, burns all the time the
bomb is in the air ; and the composition in the fusee
being spent, it fires the powder in the bomb, which
bursts with great force, blowing up whatever is about
it. The great height a bomb goes in the air, and the
force with which it falls, makes it go deep into the
earth.
Bombs may be used without mortar-pieces, as was
done by the Venetians at Candia, when the Turks had
possessed themselves of the ditch, rolling down bombs
upon them along a plank set sloping towards their works,
with ledges on the sides, to keep the bomb right for¬
ward. They are sometimes also buried under ground
to blow up. See Caisson.—Bombs came not into
common use before the year 1634, and then only in
the Dutch and Spanish armies. One Malthus an Eng¬
lish engineer is said to have first carried them into
France, where they were put in use at the siege of
Colliouse. The French have lately invented a new
sort of bombs of vast weight, called Comminges.—-The
art of throwing bombs makes a branch of gunnery,
founded on the theory of projectiles, and the laws and
qualities of gunpowder. See Gunnery, Projectiles,
Gunpowder, &c.
HoMli-Chest, is a kind of chest filled usually with
bombs, sometimes only with gunpowder, placed under
ground, to tear and blow it up in the air with those
who stand on it. Bomb-chests were formerly much
used to drive enemies from a post they had seized or
were about to take possession of: they were set on fire
by means of a saucissee fastened at one end, but they
are now much disused.
Bomb-Vessels, which are small ships formed for
throwing bombs into a fortress, are said to be the in¬
vention of M. Reyneau, and to have been first used at
the bombardment of Algiers. Till then it had been
judged impracticable to bombard a place from the sea.
See Ketch.
BOMBARD, a piece of ordnance anciently in use,
exceedingly short and thick, and with a very large
mouth. There have been bombards which have thrown
a ball of 300 pounds weight. They made use of cranes
to load them. The bombard is by some called basilisk,
and by the Dutch donberbass.
BOMBARDIER, a person employed about a mor¬
tar. His business is to drive the fusee, fix the shell,
and load and fire the mortar.
Bombardier. See Carabus, Entomology In¬
dex.
BOMBARDMENT, the havock committed in
throwing bombs into a town or fortress.
BOMBARDO, a musical instrument of the wind
kind, much the same as the bassoon, and used as a bass
to the hautboy.
BOMBASINE, a name given to two sorts of stuffs, Bomfcntiag
the one of silk, and the other crossed of cotton. [j
BOMBAST, in composition, is a serious endeavour, Bombay,
by strained description, to raise a low or familiar sub- ’ J
ject beyond its rank ; which, instead of being sublime,
never fails to be ridiculous. The mind in some ani¬
mating passions is indeed apt to magnify its objects be¬
yond natural bounds; but such hyperbolical descrip¬
tion has its limits ; and w'hen carried beyond these, it
degenerates into burlesque, as in the following ex¬
ample.
Stjanus. Great and high,
The world knows only two, that’s Rome and I.
My roof receives me not j ’tis air I tread,
And at each step I feel my advanc’d head
Knock out a star in heaven.
Sejan. of Ben Johnson, Act v.
A writer who has not natural elevation of genius is ex¬
tremely apt to deviate into bombast. He strains above
his genius, and the violent effort he makes carries him
generally beyond the bounds of propriety.
BOMBAX, or Silk Cotton tree. See Botany
Index.
Bombax, in TLoology, a synonyme of a species of
Conus. Bombax is also used sometimes for silk or cot¬
ton ; but the true botanic name of cotton is Gossypi-
UM. It is likewise applied by Linnaeus to signify such
insects as have incumbent wings, and feelers resem¬
bling a comb.
BOMBAY, an island in the East Indies near the
coast of Decan, situated in N. Lat. 19. o. and E.
Long. 73. o. It has its present name from the Por¬
tuguese Buon-bahia, on account of the excellent bay
formed by it, together with the winding of other islands
adjacent. The harbour is spacious enough to contain
any number of ships, and has likewise excellent anchor¬
ing ground, affording also, by its land-locked situation,
a shelter from any winds to which the mouth may be
exposed.
This island was formerly reckoned exceedingly un- T])js i6ianci
healthy, insomuch that it had the name of the burying more heal-
ground of the English, though it is now so far impro-thy now
ved in this respect as to be no worse than any other t*iaI.1
place in the East Indies under the same parallel* of la-™^’
titude. The reasons of this unhealthiness and the sub¬
sequent improvements are enumerated by Mr Grose.
I. The nature of the climate, and the precautions re¬
quired by it, being less understood than they are at
present. 2. Formerly there obtained a very pernicious
practice of employing a small fry of fish as manure for
the cocoa-trees which grow in plenty on the island 5
though this has been denied by others, and perhaps
with justice, as the putrid effluvia of animal bodies seems
to be very effectually absorbed by the earth, when
buried in it. All agree, however, that the habitations
in the woods or cocoa-nut groves are unwholesome, by
reason of the moisture, and want of a free circulation of
air. 3. Another cause has been assigned for the su¬
perior healthiness of this island, viz. the lessening of
the waters by the banking of a breach of the sea,
though this does not appear satisfactory to our author.
There is still, says he, a great body of salt water on
the inside of the breach, the communication of which
with the ocean being less free than before the breach was
a
Bombay,
2
limate,
c.
3
sh in all
l|e stag-
I.llL pools
limed by
fe rains.
icount of
; quanti-
of rain
at falls
ring the
ny sea-
Dcnjs of
the month.
May 1795.
Quantity of
rain in
In. Tenths.
25
31
June.
Days of Quantity of
rain in
In. Tenths.
the month.
*3
H
15
16
17
18
J9
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
July.
B OM C 775 3
built, must be proportionably more apt to stagnate, and June.
' to produce noxious vapours. Days of
Whatever may be the cause, however, it is certain, the month.
that the island of Bombay no longer deserves its for¬
mer character, provided a due degree of temperance
be observed ; without which health cannot be expected
in any warm climate.
The climate of Bombay seems to be drier than ma¬
ny other parts under the same parallel. The rains last
only tour months of the year, but with short intermis¬
sions. The setting-in of the rains is commonly ushered
in by a violent thunder-storm, called there the Tie-
phanta from its extraordinary violence. The air, how¬
ever, is then agreeably cooled, and the excessive heat,
then nearly at its height, much moderated. The rains
begin about the end of May, and go off in the begin¬
ning of September $ after which there never falls any,
except a short transient shower, and that but very
rarely.
A very extraordinary circumstance is related by Mr
Ives concerning the island of Bombay during the rainy
season, viz. that, ten days after the rains set in, every
pool and puddle swarms with a species of fish about
six inches long, and somewhat resembling a mullet.
Such a phenomenon has occasioned various speculations.
Some have imagined that the exhaling power of the
sun is so strong in the dry season as to be able to raise
the spawn of these fishes into the atmosphere, and there
suspend and nourish it till the rains come on, when it
drops down again in the state of living and perfectly
formed fish. A less extravagant supposition is, that af¬
ter the ponds become dry, the spawn may possibly fall
into deep fissures below the apparent bottom, remaining
there during the dry season, and being supplied with
a sufficient quantity of moisture to prevent it from cor¬
ruption.
rl he quantity of rain that falls at, Bombay in one
season has been accurately measured by Mr Thomas,
Mr Ives’s predecessor as hospital surgeon. His appa¬
ratus consisted of a lead cylinder about nine inches dia¬
meter, and as many deep, marked on the inside with
inches and tenths. To prevent the water from splash¬
ing over, he cut a hole two inches from the bottom,
and placed the cylinder in a glazed earthen vessel ; af¬
ter which a wax-cloth was securely tied round it, so as
to cover the vessel, and prevent any water from getting
in, excepting what passed through the cylinder. When
more than two inches fell, the hole in the side was
stopped with wax, and the water poured from the
vessel into the cylinder to ascertain its quantity. It
was kept in an open place free from houses, and mea¬
sured at six in the morning, noon, and six in the even¬
ing. The following table shows the quantity of rain
that fell from the 25th of May, when it first began,
though the sky looked cloudy over land from the be- August.
ginning ol the month.
B
Quantity of Days of
rain in the month.
June.
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
J4
15
16
18
'9
20
21
22
23
25
26
27
28
29
J
3
5
6
7
8
9
to
2
o
I
o
o
o
o
1
3
3
o
5
4
2
o
o
1
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
I
7
o
o
I
o
5
5
3
5
6
8
2
4
3
2
3
7
7
8
o
7
3
8
3
o
9
9
5
2
4
9
3
1
7
7
5
9
2
1
5
1
J
7
2
2
1
3
3
8
6
4
4
o
8
6
3
4
October.
  2 1
  2 o
  ° 3
  o 1
The air fine and
without a cloud,
the land and sea-breezes
regular.
Whole quantity of rain in
In. Tenths*
May —
June —
July —
August —
September
October —
44
29
J9
11
Total 110 3
In this journal our author makes no mention of the
elephanta above mentioned from Mr Grose as the fore¬
runner of the rainy season, though he mentions a storm
under
Bombay.
 , «/
BOM
Bombay, under that name on the pth of October. It was an ex-
 ' cessive hard gale, with violent thunder, lightning, and
rain ; of which last there fell two inches in no more
than four hours. Neither is the quantity of thunder
and lightning at all comparable to w-hat people unac¬
quainted with hot climates might be apt to expect.
The only thunder-storms mentioned in the journal were
on May 31st, June 3d, 5th, 12th, 14th', September
7th, October 9th, an elephanta $ and some thunder on
5 the 15th of the same month.
Vegetable The vegetable productions of Bombay are very in-
ofBombay.5s*gnificant- Mr Ives says> that its “ soil is so barren
'as not to produce anyone thing worth mentioning;”
but afterwards informs us, that its “ natural produce
is the cocoa-nut tree, from which they extract a li¬
quor called toddy. This is soft and mild when drunk
immediately : but if it stands long, it gathers strength,
and becomes very intoxicating; whence probably arose
the term toddy-headed. For each tree a tax of 20s. a-
year is paid to the company, which is appropriated to¬
wards maintaining the garrison and ships of war.”
Mr Grose gives an account somewhat different.—
“ The oarts, or cocoa-nut groves, make the most con¬
siderable part of the landed property, being planted
wherever the situation and soil is favourable to them.
When a number of these groves lie contiguous to each
other, they form what is called the woods; through
which there is a due space left for roads and path-ways,
where one is pleasantly defended from the sun at all
hours in the day. They are also thick set with houses
belonging to the respective proprietors, as well as with
the huts of the poorer sort of people ; but are very un¬
wholesome, for the reasons already given. As to the
cocoa-nut tree itself, not all the minute descriptions I
have met with in many authors seem to me to come up
to the reality of its wonderful properties and use. The
cultivation of it is extremely easy, by means of chan¬
nels conveying water to the roots, and by the manure
already mentioned laid round them. An owner of 200
cocoa-nut trees is supposed to have a competency to
live on.
“ As to the rice fields.
5 oral ay.
they differ in value, accor¬
ding to the fineness and quantity of rice they produce.
The growth of this grain has a particularity not un¬
worthy of notice, viz. that as it loves a watery soil,
so to whatever height the water rises wherever it is
planted, the growth of the rice keeps measure with it,
even to that of 12 and 14 feet; the summit always ap¬
pearing above the surface of the water. It is also re¬
marked, that the eating of new rice affects the eyes.
The fact is cei’tain, though the physical reason of it is
unknown.
“ Here and thei'e are interspersed some few brab
trees, or rather wild palm trees (the word brab being,
derived from brabo, which in the Portuguese signifies
wild'). They bear an insipid kind of fruit, about the
bigness of a common pear ; but the chief profit from
them is the toddy, or liquor drawn from them by in¬
cisions at the top, of which the arrack is reckoned bet¬
ter than that produced by the cocoa-nut trees. They
are generally near the sea-side, as they delight most in
a sandy soil. It is on this tree that the toddy birds, so
called from their attachment to it, make their exqui¬
sitely curious nests, wrought out of the thinnest reeds
and filaments of branches, with an inimitable mecha-
3
[ 776 ] BOM
nism. The birds themselves are about the size of a
partridge, but are of no value either for plumage, song,
or the table.
“ This island is a strong instance of the benefits of a
good government, and a nunaerous population ; for not
a spot of it remains uncultivated ; so that though it is
far from producing sufficient for the consumption of its
inhabitants, and notwithstanding its many disadvantages
of situation and soil, it yields incomparably more than
the adjacent island of Salsette.” ^
Among the curiosities of Bombay Mr Ives mentions Cnriosiiie*
a large terapin or land tortoise kept at the governor’s in this
house, the age of which was upwards of 200 years, bland.
Frogs, which abound everywhere through the East In¬
dies, are very large at Bombay. Our author saw one
that measured 22 inches from the extremities of the
fore and hind feet when extended; and he supposes
that its weight would not have been less than four or
five pounds. On the sea-shore round the island are
a great variety of beautiful shells, particularly the sort
called ventle-traps or wendle-traps, held in great esteem
among the ladies some time ago. Several pounds ster¬
ling are said to have been given by a virtuoso for one
of these shells when Commodore Leslie’s collection of
shells was sold by auction.
Mr Ives enumerates the following kinds of snakes Different
found on this island and other parts of the British em- kinds of
pire in the East Indies. 1. The cobra de capella, grow-serpents
ing from four to eight or nine feet long. They kill by f<nuul
their bite in 15 minutes. 2. The cobra manila is a
small bluish snake, of the size of a man’s little finger,
and about a foot long, frequently seen about old walls.
A species of these found at Bombay kill much sooner
than even the former. 3. The pahnira, a very thin
beautiful snake, of different colours : its head is like
that of the common viper, but much thicker than the
body. Our author saw one that was four feet long,
and the body not much thicker than a swan’s quill.
4. The green snake is of a very bright green colour,
with a sharp head : towards the tail it is smaller than
in the middle. The largest part of it is no bigger than
a tobacco-pipe. 5. The sand snake is small and short,
but not less deadly than the others. 6. The cobra de
aurelia resembles an earth-worm, is about six inches
long, and no bigger than a small crow-quill. It kills
by getting into the ear, causing madness, &c. 7. The
manila bomba is a very beautiful snake, of almost the
same size throughout the whole length, except at the
two ends, where it comes to a point. It is white on
the belly, but finely variegated on the back. It lives
in the sand, and is said to sting with its tail, which oc¬
casions contractions in the joints.
Bombay is the most considerable English settlement
on the Malabar coast; and by reason of its situation,
may be styled the grand storehouse of all the Arabian
and Persian commerce. It is also the most convenient
place in all the East Indies for careening or heaving
down large ships; and for small ones they have a very
good dock. They have also a very good rope-yard ;
and indeed, says Mr Ives, “ this is the only place, in
this distant part of the world, for shattered ships to re¬
fit at, having always a good quantity of naval stores,
and its very name conveying an idea of a safe retreat
in foul weather.” g
On this island ar» many little forts and batteries, Different
* which forts, See.
BOM [7
Bombay, which carry some guns j but the principal fort, which
“""V defends the place, has above an hundred. Mr Grose
finds fault with the situation of this last fort, which, he
says, not only does not command the harbour suffi¬
ciently, but is itself overlooked by an eminence called
Dungharee point. The castle itself is a regular qua¬
drangle, well built of strong hard stone. In one of the
bastions facing Dungharee point is a large tank or ci¬
stern which contains a great quantity of water constant¬
ly replenished by the stationary rains. There is also a
well within the fort, but the water is not very good,
and liable to be dried up by the heats. The water of
I Bombay in general indeed is not good, which has been
given as a reason why the Gentoo merchants were not
fond of settling upon it j for as they drink no wine nor
spirituous liquors, they are very nice judges of the taste
^ and qualities of waters.
When the town of Bombay began to increase con¬
siderably, it was judged proper to add the security of
a wall round it to the strength of the fort it had be¬
fore. Even then, however, it was neglected to take
in the dangerous post of Dungharee, which now evi¬
dently commands both the town and fort. There has
since that time been added, at a great expence, a ditch
that encompasses the wall, and can be flooded at plea¬
sure, by letting in the sea, which terminates the ditch
on two sides, so that the town is now entirely surround¬
ed with water, and is one of the strongest places in
India.
Next to Bombay, the most considerable fort on the
island is that of Mahim. It is situated at the opposite
extremity of the island, and commands the pass of Ban-
durah, a fort directly opposite to it on the coast of
Salsette. From this island Bombay is separated by an
arm of the sea, capable of receiving only small craft.
The other forts are capable of making but a slight
defence.
About two miles out of town, towards the middle
of t^e island, the sea had gained so far as almost to di¬
vide \jt in two, and rendered the roads impassable. A
great quantity of this water, however, was drained off
at a very considerable expence, and a causeway raised
which kept it from overflowing again. This causeway
is above a quarter of a mile in length, and considerably
broad *, “ but (says Mr Grose), there is one gross fault
remarked in it j that, being bending near the middle,
the architect has opposed to the sea a re-entering angle
instead of a salient one.” Within the beach, however,
there is still a considerable body of wrater, that has a
free communication with the sea, as appears by its eb¬
bing and flowing j so that it is probable the causeway
itself, erected at the expence of at least 100,000k
may in no long time be totally undermined and thrown
^ down.
▼ision, When the island of Bombay was ceded to the
< 5. English by the Portuguese, it was divided and still
continues to be so, into three Roman Catholic parishes,
Bombay, Mahim, and Salvacam. The churches of
these are governed by priests of that religion, and of
any nation excepting Portugal, who were expressly
objected to at the time of cession. The bulk of the
land-proprietors at that time were Mestizos and Cana-
rins. The former are a mixed breed of the natives
and Portuguese j the latter purely aborigines of the
country converted to the Popish religion. The other
Vol,. III. Part II. ' f
77 ] BOM
land-owners were Moors, Gentoos, and Parsees ; but Bombay,
these last are of more modern date, having purchased —y-—
estates on the island. The company has also a very
considerable landed estate either by purchases, confis¬
cations for crimes, or seizures for debt. The land is
laid out in cocoa-nut groves, rice fields, and onion
grounds, which last are reckoned of an excellent qua¬
lity.
There is only one English church at Bombay, a
very neat commodious building, seated in a spacious
area called the Green j which continues from the
church to the fort, and is pleasantly laid out in walks
planted with trees, round which the houses of the Eng¬
lish inhabitants are mostly situated. These are gene¬
rally only ground-floored, with a court-yard before
and behind, in which are the offices and out-houses.
They are substantially built of stone and lime, and
smooth plastered on the outside. They are often kept
white-washed, which, however neat, is in some re¬
spects very disagreeable, by reason of the excessive
glare it occasions in reflecting the light of the sun. Eew
of them have glass windows to any apartment $ the
sashes being generally paned with a kind of transparent
oyster-shells, square cut; which have the singular pro¬
perty of transmitting sufficient light, at the same time
that they exclude the violent glare of the sun, and
have beside a cool look. The flooring is generally
composed of a kind of loam or stucco called chunam,
being a lime made of burnt shells, which if well tem¬
pered in a peculiar manner known to the natives, is
extremely hard and lasting, and takes such a smooth po¬
lish, that one may see his own face in it. But where
terraces are made of this substance, unless it be duly
prepared, and which is very expensive, it is apt to crack
by the sun’s heat. Some attempts have been made to
paint the stucco walls in apartments; but these have
proved abortive through the ignorance of the artists,
who have not chosen colours capable of resisting the al¬
kaline power of the lime *. Our author remarks, that * See Co-
in the gardens of Surat he saw this kind of stucco made
use of intead of gravel for the walks. They were a1”8*
little raised above the garden beds, so that they must
be instantly dry after the most violent rain; though
their whiteness and polish must not only produce a dis¬
agreeable reflection in sunshine, but be extremely slip¬
pery to walk on. The houses of the black merchants
are for the most part extremely ill built and inconve¬
nient ; the window lights small, and the apartments
ill distributed. Some, however, make a better ap¬
pearance if only one story high; but even the best of
them have a certain meanness in the manner, and clum¬
siness in their execution, which renders the architecture
contemptible in comparison of the European. There
is one convenience, however, in all the houses of Bom¬
bay, viz. small ranges of pillars that support a pent¬
house or shed, forming what are called in the Portu¬
guese language verandas, either all round the house,
or on particular sides of it, which afford a pleasing shel¬
ter from the sun, and keep the inner apartments cool
and refreshed by the draught of air under them. The
pagodas, or temples of the Gentoos, are low mean
buildings, having usually no light but what is admit¬
ted by the door ; facing which is the principal idol.
They imagine that a dark gloomy place inspires a kind
of religious horror and reverence ; and are very fond
iF 7 0f
BOM , [ 778 ]
Bombay, of having these pagodas among trees, and near the side ing first picked out.
BON
10,
Inhabi¬
tants, n
irers, &e.
°‘ a tank or pond, for the sake of their frequent ablu¬
tions. I hese tanks are often very expensive 5 being ge¬
nerally square and surrounded with stone steps that are
very convenient for the bathers.
The natives of Bombay, though composed of almost
werstS’&can*eVery As!atic nation> are shorter of stature and stronger
0 than the inhabitants of the Coromandel coast. Here
a palanquin, which requires six men to carry it at Ma¬
dras, or Fort St David, is carried by four. Here are
some Parsees, who like their forefathers the ancient
Persians, are followers of Zoroaster, who is said to
have reduced into order the religion of the Persian ma¬
gi ; the fundamental maxim of which was the worship¬
ping of one God under the symbol of light. They
adore the sun, particularly when rising, with the most
profound reverence and veneration j and likewise pay
a kind of adoration to common fire. Mr Ives had once
the opportunity of observing the manner in which they
perform this devotion. A large brass pan was placed
in the middle of the house with fire in it: before this
fire, or rather on each side of it, two men were kneel-
Img at their devotions, pronouncing their prayers with
great rapidity. He was afterwards informed, that one
of them was a priest, at that time on a visit to another
priest in a fit of sickness. He was likewise informed,
that the Parsees have such a veneration for the fire,
that they never put it out, or even breathe upon it ;
and he observed, that while the two priests w^ere at
their prayers over the pan of coals, they had a little
white bib over their mouths, as he supposed to prevent
their breath from approaching their favourite element.
The prayers, however, from the similarity of the sounds,
appeared to him only to be a repetition of the same set
of words. T.he visiting priest used many gestures with
his hands over the fire, and afterwards streaked down
the face of the sick priest, which our author looked up¬
on to be the final benediction, as the ceremony ended
immediately.
As the Gentoos burn their dead, one would ima¬
gine that the Parsees, who have such a veneration for
lire, would be desirous of having their bodies consumed
by that element; but instead of this, they expose their
dead bodies to be devoured by birds of prey; because,
say they, a living man is composed of all the elements ;
so that it is but reasonable, after he is dead, that every
particular element should receive its own again. On
the top of Malabar hill, about two miles from the
town of Bombay, there are two round buildings for re¬
ceiving the dead bodies of the Parsees, which remain
there till the bones are clean picked by the birds. This
is certainly an abominable custom, and affords very
shocking spectacles; however, a guard is always pla¬
ced at a little distance to prevent people from prying
too narrowly into these matters, or, as Mr Ives says,
to ensure the vultures of their repast without any di¬
sturbance. Mr Grose tells us, that on his going to
look into one of these repositories, a Parsee advised
him in a friendly manner to let it alone, as no person,
who was not a party concerned, would long survive
such curiosity. He tells us also, that the person ap¬
pointed to look after the dead, carefully observes which
eye is first picked out by the birds, and from thence
judges of the situation of the soul of the deceased j a
state of happiness being indicated by the right eye he*
2
_ . Mr Ives observes, that by rea- Bombay
son of the heat of the sun, much less noxious vapour is ||
emitted by these bodies than might be expected ; the Bona*
flesh being soon shrivelled up, and the bones turning '"““Y'—J
quite black.
At the extreme point of Malabar-hill there is a
rock, on the descent to the sea, flat on the top, in
which there is a natural crevice, which communicates
with a hollow terminating at an exterior opening to the
sea. This place is used by the Gentoos as a purifier
from their sins. This purification is effected by their
going in at the opening, and coming through the cre¬
vice, though it seems too small for people of any corpu¬
lence to pass. ^
In Bombay, and indeed in many other places of the Oxen n»ed
East Indies, oxen are generally used instead of horses, kereinitead
not only for drawing carriages but for riding j and,
however ridiculous such a practice may seem to us, it
appears that they are not in this respect inferior to
ordinary horses, being capable of going at the rate of
seven or eight miles an hour. They are commonly of
a white colour, with large perpendicular horns, and
black noses. The only inconvenience that attends them,
is, that, by being naturally subject to a lax habit of
body, they sometimes incommode the rider with filth
thrown upon him by the continual motion of their tails.
In other respects they are far preferable to Indian horses,
and will trot and gallop as naturally as the horses of
this country. Admiral Watson, while at Bombay, was
allowed a chaise drawn by two of these oxen by the East
India company. At the end of every stage the driver
puts the near bullock in the place of the other j he then
puts his hand into their mouths, to take out the froth }
without this they would be in danger of suffocation.
See Bombay, Supplement.
For the History, Government, &c. of Bombay, see
the articles Indostan and Hast India Company.
BOMB ketch, a small vessel built and strengthened
with large beams for the use of mortars at sea.
BOMBUS, in Music, an artificial motion with the
hands, imitating in cadence and harmony the buzzing
of bees. The word is originally Greek, and signifies
the buzz or noise of bees, gnats, and the like. In this
sense, bombus made one of the species of applause used
by the ancient auditories.
Bombus, in Medicine, denotes a murmurins; noise, as
of wind breaking out of a narrow into a larger cavity,
frequently heard in the thick intestines. The bombus
beard in the ears in acute diseases, is laid down by Hip¬
pocrates as a sign of death.
BOMBYLIUS. See Entomology Index.
BOMENE, a sea-port town of the United Provin¬
ces, in Zealand, seated on the northern shore of the
island of Schonen, opposite to the island of Goree, in
E. Long. 4. o. N. Lat. 51. 50.
BOMMEL, a town of Dutch Guelderland, situated
on the northern shore of the river Waal, in E. Long.
3. 50. N. Lat. 52. o.
BOMONICI, in Grecian antiquity, young men of
Lacedaemon, who contended at the sacrifices of Diana
which of them was able to endure most lashes j being
scourged before the altar of this goddess.
BONA, by the Moors called Balederna, a sea-port
town of the kingdom of Algiers in Africa, situated in
E. Long. 7. 57. N. Lat. 36. 5. It was formerly rich,
populous,
of horses.
B#na
BON [ 779 ] BON
Bona, populous, capital of the province of the same name
*~~v—' under the kingdom of Constantina, and is supposed by
some to he the ancient Hippo, onee the seat of the
great St Austin, and a sea-port built by the Romans.
The inhabitants, however, deny it to be the ancient
Hippo, which had been so often taken, retaken, and
destroyed by the wars j and pretend it to be since
rebuilt at the distance of two or three miles from the
ancient Hippo, out of its ruins, and called TZaleed-el-
Ugned, from a sort of trees of that name that grow in
the neighbourhood. It is now a very mean place,
poorly built, and thinly inhabited, with scarce any traces
of its former grandeur, except the ruins of a cathedral,
or, as others guess, of a monastery, built by St Austin,
about three miles distant from the city. Near these
ruins is a famed sprang called by his name, much re¬
sorted to by the French and Italian sailors, who come
to drink of its waters, and pay their devotions to a
maimed statue said also to belong to the saint, but so
mutilated that no traces either of face or dress are re¬
maining $ and as each of them strives to break off some
splinter, or to scrape off some part of it on account of
its supposed sanctity, it will probably be soon reduced
to a state of non-existence. Bona was taken by the pi¬
rate Barbarossa, and joined to his new kingdom of Al¬
giers j but as quickly lost, and recovered by its old ma¬
sters the Tuniseens, who soon after lost it again. It is
commanded by a little fort, in which is a garrison of
about 300 Turks, under the command of an aga, who is
also governor of the town. The road for the ships is
good for nothing before the town, but a little farther
west is very deep and safe. Hr Shaw tells us, that the
continual discharging of ballast into the road, and the
neglect of cleansing the port, is the cause of, both be¬
coming so unsafe and incommodious. In 1816, a num¬
ber of Neapolitans, Genoese, &c. assembled here for
the purpose of prosecuting the coral fishery, were at¬
tacked and massacred by a body of Turkish troops.
• Bona Dea, the good goddess, in Pagan mythology,
one of the names of Cybele. Others say, she was a
Roman lady, the wife of one Faunus, and was famous
for her chastity, and that after her death she was dei¬
fied. Her sacrifices were performed only by matrons $
and in so secret a manner, that it was no less than
death for any man to be present at the assembly (see
Ctbele). Cicero reproaches Clodius with having en¬
tered into this temple disguised as a singing woman, and
having by his presence polluted the mysteries of the
good goddess. What kind of mysteries these were, we
may learn from Juvenal, Sat. vi. 313. The poet there
mentions the adventure of Clodius.
Atque utinam ritus veteres, et publica saltern
His intacta malts agerentur sacra; sed omnes
Noverunt Mauri, atque Indi, quai psaltria pencm
Majoretn, quant sint duo Ccesaris Anticatones,
Blue testiculi sibi conscius, unde fugit mus,
Intulerit.
I wish at least our sacred rites were free
From those pollutions of obscenity :
But ’tis well known what singer, how disguis’d,
A lewd audacious action enterpris’d :
Into the fane, with women mix’d, he went,
Arm’d with a huge two-handed instrument $
A grateful present to these holy choirs,
Where the mouse, conscious of his sex, retires. (j
DRYDEN. Bonaveu-
ture.
Bona Fides, in Law. When a person performs any
action which he believes at the time to be just and law¬
ful, he is said to have acted bona fide.
Bona Mobilia, the same with moveable effects or
goods.
Bona Notabilia, are such goods as a person dying
has in another diocese than that wherein he dies, a-
mounting to the value of 5I. at least 5 in which case
the will of the deceased must be proved, or admini¬
stration granted, in the court of the archbishop of the
province, unless, by composition or custom, any dio¬
ceses are authorised to do it, when rated at a greater
sum.
Bona Patria, an assize of countrymen or good
neighbours, where 1 2 or more are chosen out of the
country to pass upon an assize, being sworn judicially
in the presence of the party.
Bona Peritura, perishable goods. By stat. 13 Ed. I.
cap. 4. the cargo of a ship that has been cast away shall
be kept for a year and a day, and restored to the right¬
ful owner; and if the goods are such as will not endure
so long, they are bona peritura, which the sheriff is al¬
lowed to sell, and to account in money for the value.
Bona Vacantia, goods, such as royal-fish, shipwrecks,
treasure-trove, waifs, and estrays, in which no one can
claim a property. These goods by the law of nature,
and by the imperial law, belonged to the first occupant
or finder; but in the modern constitutions of European
governments, they are annexed to the supreme power
by the positive laws of the state.
BONAIRE, an island of South America, near the
north coast of Terra Firma. It lies about 30 miles east
of Cura^oa, and abounds in kabritoes and salt. W.
Long. 68. 18. N. Lat. 12. 30.
BONAIS, very high mountains in Italy, in the
duchy of Savoy, not far from Lassoreburg: in some
seasons they cannot be ascended without great dan-
ger.
BONARELLI, Count Guid’ Ubaldo, an Italian
poet, was the son of Count Pietro Bonarelli, minister
of the duke of Urbino. He was intrusted with several
important negociations, and was esteemed an able poli¬
tician and learned philosopher. He was the author of
a fine Italian pastoral entitled Filli di Sciro. He died
at Fano, in 1608, aged 43.
BONAVENTURA, The Bay of, in America on
the coast next the South sea, in the Popayan. It has a
port and harbour for ships ; but the air is very unwhole¬
some. W. Long. 78. N. Lat. 3. 20.
BONAVENTURE, a celebrated cardinal, called,
from his works, the seraphic doctor. He was born at
Bagnarea, a small town of Tuscany, in 1221 ; and his
original name was John Fidan'za. He took the habit
of a monk of the order of St Francis in 1243, became
doctor of Paris in 1235, and the next year general of
his order. After the death of Clement IV. the car¬
dinals disagreeing about the election of a new pope,
engaged themselves by a solemn promise to elect him
who should be named by Bonaventure, even though it
should be himself j but he chose Theobald archdeacon
$ Fa of
BON
Eonaven-
ture
of Liege, who was then in the Holy Land, and took
the name of Gregory X. This pope, in return, in 1272,
Bond ma<le him cardinal and bishop of Alba, and ordered him
— - to assist at the second general council of Lyons, where
he died in 1 274. His works were printed at Rome in
8 vols folio.
BONAVISTA, an island in the Atlantic ocean, the
most easterly and first discovered of the Cape de Verd
islands. It is 20 miles long, and 13 broad ; has plenty
of goats and cotton, and some indigo. The inhabitants
are remarkable for slothfulness; they have a town, and
two roads where ships come to an anchor. W. Long.
23. 6. N. Lat. 16. 5.
BOND, John, a commentator on Horace and
Persius, was born in Somersetshire in the year 1550,
and educated at Winchester school. In 1569 he was
entered a student of the university of Oxford, probably
in the New college, of which he became either one of
the clerks or one of the chaplains. He took his ba¬
chelor of arts degree in 1573, and that of master in
IJ79 5 soon after which he was appointed by his col¬
lege, master of the free school at Taunton in Somerset¬
shire. In this employment he continued many years
with great reputation: but being at length weary of
his laborious employment, he commenced physician, and
we are told became eminent in that capacity. He died
in the year 1612, possessed of several lands and tene¬
ments in his neighbourhood } but whether acquired by
the practice of physic, does not appear. He wrote,
I. Commentarii in poemata Q. Horatii, 8vo. 2. Com-
mcntarii in sex satyras Persii, Lend. 1614, 8vo.
Bond, in Latu, is a deed whereby the obligor obliges
himself, his heirs, executors, and administrators, to pay
a certain sum of money to another at a day appointed.
If this be all, the bond is called a simple one, simplex
obligation But there is generally a condition added,
that if the obligor does some particular act, the obliga¬
tion shall be void, or else shall remain in full force: as
payment of rent j performance of covenants in a deed $
or repayment of a principal sum of money borrowed of
the obligee, with interest; which principal sum is usually
one half the penal sum specified in the bond. In case
this condition is not performed, the bond becomes for¬
feited, or absolute at law, and charges the obligor while
living; and after his death the obligation descends upon
his heir, who (on defect of personal assets) is bound to
discharge it, provided he has real assets by descent as
a recompense.
If the condition of a bond be impossible at the time
ef making it, or be to do a thing contrary to some rule
of law that is merely positive, or he uncertain, or in¬
sensible, the condition alone is void, and the bond shall
stand single and unconditional: for it is the folly of the
obligor to enter into such an obligation from which he
can never be released. If it be to do a thing that is
malum in se, the obligation itself is void : for the whole
is an unlawful contract, and the obligee shall take no
advantage from such a transaction. And if the con¬
dition be possible at the time of making it, and after¬
wards becomes impossible by the act of God, the act of
law, or the act of the obligee himself, there the penalty
of the obligation is saved: for no prudence or foresight
of the obligor could guard against such a contingency.
On the forfeiture of a bond, or its becoming single,
the whole penalty was recoverable at law ; but here the
[ 780 ]
BON
courts of equity interposed, and would not permit a man
to take more in conscience than he ought, viz. his prin- j)
cipal, interest, and expences, in case the forfeiture accru- Bones,
ed by non-payment of money borrowed : the damages ’ -
sustained upon non-performance of covenants ; and the
like. And the statute 4 and 5 Ann. c. 16. hath also
enacted, in the same spirit of equity, that in case of
a bond, conditioned for the payment of money, the pay¬
ment or tender of the principal sum due, with interest
and costs, even though the bond be forfeited and a suit
commenced thereon, shall be a full satisfaction and dis¬
charge.
Bond, in masonry and brick-laying, is when bricks
or stones are as it were knit and interwoven ; and when
they say, make good bond, they mean that the joints are
not made over or upon other joints ; but reach at least
six inches, both within the wall and on the surface, as
the art of building requires.
BONDAGE, properly signifies the same with sla¬
very, but in old law books is used for villenage (see
Villenage). Tenants in bondage paid kenots, and
did fealty ; they were not to fell trees in their own
garden, without license of the lord. The widow of a
tenant in bondage held her husband’s estate quam diu
vixemt sine marito, “ as long as she lived single.”
Bondage by the Forelock, or Bondagium per anteri-
ores crines capitis, was when a freeman renounced his
liberty, and became a slave to some great man ; which
was done by the ceremony of cutting off a lock of hair
from the forehead, and delivering it to his lord ; de¬
noting that he was to be maintained by him for the
future. Such a bondman, if he reclaimed his liberty, or
were fugitive from his master, might be drawn again to
his servitude by the nose, whence the origin of the po¬
pular menace to pull a man by the nose.
BONDMAN, in the English law, is used for a vil¬
lain, or tenant in the villenage*.—The Romans had two* See Vib
kinds of bondmen ; one called servi, who were those tain and
either bought for money, taken in war, left by sue- Videnagt.
cession, or purchased by some other lawful acquisition ;
or else born of their bondwomen, and called verna. We
may add a third kind of bondmen mentioned by Justi¬
nian, called or agricensiti; who were
not bound to the person, but to the ground or place,
and followed him who had the land. These in our law
are called villains regardants, as belonging to the manof
or place.
BONE-ace, a game at cards played thus : The deal¬
er deals out two cards to the first hand, and turns up
the third, and so on through all the players, who may
be seven, eight, or as many as the cards will permit:
he that has the highest card turned up to him carries
the bone; that is, one half of the stake; the other
half remaining to be played for. Again, if there be
three kings, three queens, three tens, &c. turned up,
the eldest hand wins the bone. But it is to be ob¬
served, that the ace of diamonds is bone-ace, and wins
all other cards whatever. Thus much for the bone :
and as for the other half of the stake, the nearest to 31
wins it; and he that turns up or draws 31 wins it im¬
mediately.
BONES, their origin, formation, composition, tex¬
ture, variety, offices, &c. See Anatomy.
Bones Whitenedfor Skeletons. Two processes are
described in. the Acta Hojfniensia for whitening bones.
Brofessor
BON [ 781 ] BON
Professor Rau had a method of giving them a great de¬
gree of whiteness. By bare exposure to the airT sun, and
rain, for a length of time, they become notably white;
but the whitest bones, kept in a room tainted with smoke
or fuliginous vapours, grow in a little time yellowish,
brownish, and unsightly. It is customary for the puri¬
fication of bones, to boil them in alkaline liquors j
which, by dissolving and extracting the superfluous fat,
improves their whiteness.
Bones Hardened and Softened. Boerhaave observes,
that alkaline salts render bones harder and firmer, and
that acids make them softer and more flexible. These
effects succeed in certain circumstances, but not uni¬
versally ; for bones may be hardened and softened both
by acids and alkalies, according to the quantity of
saline matter employed, and the manner in which it is
applied. Newman made bones harder and more com¬
pact by treating them with the strongest of the mineral
acids ; though, when the acid is in sufficient proportion,
it destroys or dissolves them. In Papin’s digester (a
strong close vessel in which the steam of boiling li¬
quors is confined, and the fluid by this means made to
undergo a greater degree of heat than it could other¬
wise sustain), the hardest bones are reduced in a short
time, by the action of simple water into a soft pap
or jelly; and alkaline liquors produce this effect still
sooner.
In the history of the French Academy for the years
1742 and 1743, there is an account that Mr Geoffroy
produced before the academy a small ivory spoon, which
by long lying in mustard, was become flexible and
transparent like horn : that Mr Fouchy saw an ivory
spoon, which, by lying for a considerable time in milk,
was become supple like leather ; and that Mr Hunauld
produced bones, which had been softened by steeping
in vinegar, afterwards hardened to their natural state
by steeping in water, and softened a second time by
steeping in vinegar. Dr Lewis observed that the ni¬
trous and marine acids diluted, and the acetous acid,
make bones flexible and tough like leather; but that
flie diluted vitriolic acid, though it renders them no¬
tably soft, makes them at the same time brittle. It
seems as if a great part of the earthy matter, which is
the basis of the bone, and on which its hardness depends,
was dissolved and extracted by the three first; whilst
the latter, incapable of dissolving this kind of earth into
a liquid form, only corrodes it into a kind of selenitic
concrete,, which remains intermixed in minute particles
among the gelatinous matter. Dr Lewis did not find
that the softened bones, whatever acid they were soften¬
ed by, recovered their hardness by steeping in water.
Slips of softened ivory, after lying above a month in
water, continued nearly as soft as when they were taken
out of the acid liquor.
There is a singular induration of bones produced by
fire} the effects of which agent are here remarkably
different according to its degree and the circumstances
of its application. Bones exposed to a moderate fire,
either in open vessels, or in contact with the burning
fuel, become opaque, white, and friable throughout;
and an increase of fire, alter they have once suffered this
change, renders them only more and more friable.
But if they are urged at first with a strong fire, such
as that in which copper or iron melts, they become
hard, semitransparent, and sonorous, like the hard mi¬
neral stones. This curious experiment deserves to be
further prosecuted.
Colouring of Bones. Bones may be stained of a va¬
riety of colours by the common dyeing infusions and de¬
coctions of animal and vegetable substances. They are
stained also, without heat, by metallic solutions ; and by
means of these may be spotted or variegated at plea¬
sure. Thus, solution of silver in aquafortis gives a
brown or black according to its quantity ; solution of
gold in aqua regia, or in the spirit of salt, a fine purple ;
solution of copper in the acetous acid, a fine green ;
and solutions of the same metal in volatile alkalies, a
blue, which is at first deep and beautiful, but changes,
upon exposure to the air, into a green or bluish-green.
If the bone is but touched with the two first solu¬
tions, and exposed to the air, it does not fail to ac¬
quire the colour in a few hours : In the two latter, it
requires to be steeped for a day or longer in order to
its imbibing the colour. In these and other cases where
immersion for some time is necessary, the bone may be
variegated, by covering such parts as are to remain
white, with wax or any other matter that the liquor
will not dissolve or penetrate.
Oeconomical Uses of Bones. Bones are a very useful
article, not only for making different kinds of toys,,
but likewise in several of the chemical arts; as, for
making cast iron malleable, for absolving the sulphur
of sulphureous ores; for forming tests and cupels, or
vessels for refining gold and silver with lead (burnt
bones composing a mass of a porous texture, which
absorbs the vitrified lead and other matters, while the
unvitrescible gold and silver remain entire behind) ; for
the preparation of milky glasses and porcelains ; for
the rectification of volatile salts and empyreumatic
oils; and tor making glue. The bones of different ani¬
mals are not equally fit for these uses : even the glue,,
or gelatinous part of the bones of one animal is notably
different both in quantity and cohesiveness from that of
another.
The human skull-bone, or cranium, the natural de¬
fence of the seat of sensation and perception in the no¬
blest animal, has been recommended medicinally as a
cure for epilepsies, deliria, and all disorders of the
senses, from the same philosophy which ascribed anti¬
asthmatic virtues to the lungs of the long-winded fox ;
and expected, because fowls are said to digest even
small stones, that the skin of the gizzard, dried and
powdered, would produce a similar effect in the human
stomach. To such lengths of extravagance have the
sons of physic been carried by the blind superstition of
former ages !
Bones in the funeral Solemnities of the Ancients.—-
Divers usages and ceremonies relating to the bones of
the dead have obtained in different ages ; as gathering
them from the funeral pile, washing, anointing, and
depositing them in urns, and then into tombs : trans¬
lating them, which was not to be done without the au¬
thority of the pontiffs ; not to say worshipping of them,
still practised to the bones of the saints in the Romish
church. Among the ancients, the bones of travellers
and soldiers dying in foreign countries were brought
home to be buried; till, by an' express S. G. made du¬
ring the Italic war,, it; was forbid, and the soldiers bodies
ordered to be buried where they died.
The Romans had a peculiar deity under the deno-
ipination;
bon [ 7s
i nnnation of Ossilago, to whom the care of the induration
and knitting of the human bones was committed } and
v/ho, on that account, was the object of the adoration of
all breeding women.
Fossil or Petrified Bones, are those found in the earth,
frequently at great depths, in all the strata, even in
the bodies of stones and rocks ; some of them of a huge
si/.e, usually supposed to be the bones of giants, but
moie truly of elephants or hippopotami. It is supposed
they were reposited in those strata when all things
were in a state of solution j and that they incorporated
and petrified with the bodies where they happened to be
lodged.
In the museum of the Russian Academy of Sciences,
there is a vast collection of fossil bones, teeth, and
.Kirns, of the elephant, rhinoceros, and buffalo, which
have been found in different parts of this empire, but
more particularly in the southern regions of Siberia.
.Naturalists have been puzzled to account for so great
a variety being found in a country where the animals
Oi which they formerly made a part were never known
to exist. It was the opinion of Peter, who, though he
reserves to be esteemed a great monarch, was certain¬
ly no great naturalist, that the teeth found near Voro-
netz were the remains oi elephants belonging to the
army of Alexander the Great, who, according to some
historians, crossed the Don, and advanced as far as
Xostinka. Hie celebrated Bayer, whose authority
carries greater weight in the literary world, conjeo-
tures, that the bones and teeth found m Siberia be¬
longed to elephants common in that country during
nie wars which the Mogul monarchs carried on with
the Persians and Indians; and this plausible supposi¬
tion seems in some measure to be corroborated by the
discovery of the entire skeleton of an elephant in one
of the Siberian tombs. But this opinion, as Mr Pal-
*Nov. Com\as* very justly observes, is sufficiently refuted by the
Siberia co.nsuIeratlon> that the elephants employed in the ar-
fossilibus. ni^es India could never have afforded the vast
p.440. quantities of teeth which have been discovered, not to
mention those which it is justly to be presumed may still
be buried. They have been already dug up in such
plenty as to make a considerable article of trade. The
same ingenious naturalist has given an ample descrip¬
tion of those fossil bones, and has endeavoured to ac¬
count for their origin. Upon examining those in the
museum, he was led to conclude, that as these bones
are equally dispersed in all the northern regions of Eu¬
rope, the climate probably was in the earlier ages less
severe than at present, and then possibly sufficiently
■warm to be the native countries of the elephant, rhi¬
noceros, and other quadrupeds, now found only in the
southern climates. But when he visited, during his
tiavels, the spots where the fossil bodies were dug up,
and could form a judgment from his own observations,
and not from the accounts of others, he renounced
his former hypothesis; and, in conformity with the opi¬
nions of many modern philosphers, asserted, that they
must have been brought by the waters ; and that no¬
thing but a sudden and general inundation, such as the
deluge, could have transported them from their native
countries in the south, to the regions of the north. In
prooi of this assertion, he adds, that the bones are ge¬
nerally found separate, as if they had been scattered
by the waves, covered with a stratum of mud evidently
] BON
formed by the waters, and commonly intermixed with
the remains of marine plants, and similar substances ;
instances of which he himself observed during his pro¬
gress through Siberia, and which sufficiently prove
that these regions of Asia were once overwhelmed with
the sea.
We often find in the earth petrified bones, the greatest
part of their gelatinous matter being extracted by the
moisture, and a stony one introduced in its room. In
some parts of France petrified bones are met with
which have an impregnation of copper. Hence, on
being calcined in an open fire, a volatile salt is produced
from the remains of their gelatinous principle, and the
bone is tinged throughout of a fine greenish blue colour,
copper always striking a blue with volatile alkalies.
The French turcoise stones are no other than these bones
prepared by calcination : they are very durable, and
bear to be worked and polished nearly in the same man¬
ner as glass ; without the imperfection, inseparable from
glassy bodies, of being brittle. See the article Tur¬
coise.
I here have been lately discovered several enormous
skeletons, five orsix feet beneath the surface, on the banks
of the Ohio, not far from the river Miami in America,
700 miles from the sea-coast. Some of the tusks are seven,
others ten feet long; one foot six inches in circum¬
ference at the base, and one foot near the point; the ca¬
vity at the root or base, 19 inches deep. Besides their
size, there are several other differences which will not al¬
low the supposition of their having been elephants : the
tusks of the true elephant have sometimes a very slight
lateral bend; these have a larger twist, or spiral curve,
towards the smaller end : but the great and specific dif¬
ference consists in the shape of the grinding teeth :
which, in these newly found, are fashioned like the
teeth of a carnivorous animal ; not flat and ribbed
transversely on their surface like those of the modern
elephant, but furnished with a double row of high and
conic processes, as if intended to masticate, not to
grind, their food. A third difference is in the thigh¬
bone, which is of great disproportionable thickness to
that of the elephant; and has also some other anato¬
mical variations. I hese fossil bones have been also
found in Peru and the Brazils; and when cut and po¬
lished by the workers in ivory, appear in every respect
similar. It is the opinion of Dr Hunter, that they must
have belonged to a larger animal than the elephant;
and differing from it in being carnivorous. But as yet
this formidable creature has evaded our search; and if
indeed, such an animal exists, it is happy for man that
it keeps at a distance ; since what ravage might not be
expected from a creature, endowed with more than the
strength of the elephant, and all the rapacity of the ti¬
ger ? See Mammouth.
BoNE-Spavin. See Farriery Index.
BON esperance, the same with the Cape of Good
Hope. See Good Hope.
BONET, Theophilus, an eminent physician, bom
at Geneva, March 15th 1620. He took his degree in
physic in 1643, after he had gone through most of the
famous universities, and was for some time physician to
the duke of Longueville. Meanwhile his skill in his
profession got him considerable practice ; but being
seized with deafness, it obliged him to retire from bu¬
siness, which gave him leisure to collect all the observa'-
tions
Boaei
h
lionet.
BON r 783 ] BON
JBonet tions he had made during a practice of 40 years. He
R wrote, 1. Poly alt hes, sive Thesaurus Medico -p ractic a,
Boniiace'. 3 vols. folio. 2. Lahyrinthi Medici extricati. 3. Medi-
cini Septentrionalis Collatitia ; and other works.
BONI ADIO, James, one of the most polite wri¬
ters of the 16th century, was born in Italy, near the
lake Garda. He was secretary to the cardinal de Bari,
and after his death to the cardinal Ghinucci. He af¬
terwards read public lectures on Aristotle’s politics, and
on rhetoric ; and was made historiographer to the re¬
public of Genoa. He applied himself to compose the
annals of that state, in which he wrote too satirically
on some families. This creating him enemies who were
resolved to ruin him, they accused him of the unnatu¬
ral sin ; and, as witnesses were found to convict him
of it, he was condemned to be burnt. Some say that
this sentence was executed ; and others, that his pu¬
nishment was changed, and that he was beheaded. This
was in the year 1560. Upon the day of his execution
he wrote a note to John Baptist Grimaldi, to testify his
gratitude to the persons who had endeavoured to serve
him j and premised to inform them how he found him¬
self in the other world, if it could be done without
frightening them. But it does not appear that he per¬
formed his promise, any more than the many who had
promised the like before him.—His history of Genoa is
esteemed. We have also some letters, some orations,
and Latin and Italian poems, of his, which were print¬
ed at Bologna in the year 1744, octavo.
BONFINIUS, Anthony, flourished in the ijth
century. He was a native of Ascoli in Italy, and at¬
tached himself to the study of the belles lettres. Mat¬
thias Corvin king of Hungary, having heard of his
learning, sent for him, retained him, and settled upon
him a pension. He wrote, 1. A history of Ascoli j
2. A treatise of virginity and conjugal chastity j 3. An
history of Hungary ; and other works.
BONIRERIUS, James, a learned Jesuit, born at
Dinant, in I573‘ wrote a commentary on the
Pentateuch, and learned notes on the Onomasticon of
the places and towns mentioned in the Scripture. He
died at Tournay in 1643, a£ed 7°*
BONGARS, James, in Latin Songarsius, a na¬
tive of Orleans, was one of the most learned men of the
16th century. He applied himself to the study of cri¬
tical learning, and was for near 30 years employed in
the most important negociations of Henry IV. whose
resident he was several times at the courts of the princes
of Germany, and at length his ambassador. He was of
the Protestant religion 5 and, when very young, had the
courage to write and post up in Rome a very spirited
answer to a bull of Pope Sixtus V. The public is ob¬
liged to him for the edition of several authors who have
written the History of the expeditions to the Holy
Land ; he also published, among other works, an edi¬
tion of Justin, in which he restored several passages that
had been corrupted, by consulting valuable muanuscripts,
and added notes which explained many dufficulties. He
died in 1612, aged 58.
BONIFACE, the name of several eminent men,
particularly of nine popes. To the first of these, who
ivas chosen pope in 418, St Augustine dedicated his
four books against the two epistles of the Pelagians.
-The third of that name prevailed upon the emperor
Phocas to consent that the title of Universal Jdishop
should be conferred on no other than the bishop of Bonifac'e
Rome. Boniface IV. obtained from the same empe- j[
ror, the Pantheon, a famous heathen temple built by Bonner.
Agrippa, and converted it into a church which is now
called “ Our Lady della Rotunda.” Several works are
also attributed to him, but they appear to be spurious.
Boniface VII. hath the title of antipope; because in
974 he caused Benedict VI. to be strangled in prison,
and after the election of Benedict VII. removed the
treasures of the church to Constantinople. He, how¬
ever, at length returned after the death of Benedict,
and caused his successor John XIV. to be murdered }
but died himself soon after, and was dragged naked by
the feet about the streets. Boniface VIII. canonized
St Lewis in 1297, and in 1300 appointed the jubilee to
be solemnized every 100 years after.
Boniface is also the name of a saint, who before he
took that name was called Winijred, and was born at
Kirton in Devonshire. He chose to go and preach the
gospel among the barbarous nations j and though crea¬
ted archbishop of Mentz, soon after resigned his office,
to go and preach in East Friezland, where he was killed
by the Pagans on the 5th of June 754. His letters
were published by Senarius.
BONIFACIO, a town in the island of Corsica, be¬
yond the mountains, near the strait called Bocca di Bo¬
nifacio. It is well fortified, and contains 3170 inhabi¬
tants. E. Long. 9. o. N. Lat. 41. 25.
BONIS non amovedenis, in Law, is a writ directed
to the sheriffs of London, &c. charging them that a
person against whom judgment is obtained, and prose¬
cuting a writ of error, be not suffered to remove his
goods until the error is determined.
BONITO. See Scombeh, Ichthyology Z/zcfe#.
BONN, an ancient and strong city of Germany, in
the duchy of the Lower Rhine, subject to Prussia. It
is of great consequence in the time of war j because it
is situated on the Rhine, in a place where it can stop
every thing that comes down that river. It is well
fortified, and 1801 in contained 8837 inhabitants. The
Jews are the principal traders. E. Long. 7. 5. No
Lat. 50. 44.
BONN A, in Ancient Geography, one of the 50 ci¬
tadels built by Drusus on the Rhine; supposed by
some to be the same with the Ara Ubionum ; Now
Bonn.
BONNEFONS, John, or Bonnefonius, a Latin
poet, was born at Clermont in Auvergne, in 1554. He
became an advocate in the parliament of Paris, and was
appointed lieutenant-general of Bar sur Seine, and ac¬
quired great reputation by his Pancharis, and other
poems. He died under the reign of Louis XHL He
ought not to be confounded with John Bonnefons his
son, another Latin poet.
BONNER, Edmund, bishop of London, of infa¬
mous memory, was born at Hanley in Worcestershire,
and generally supposed to be the natural son of one Sa¬
vage a priest $ and that priest was the natural son of
Sir John Savage of Clifton in the same county. Strype,
however, says, he was positively assured that Bonner
was the legitimate offspring of a poor man, who lived
in a cottage known to this day by the name of Bon¬
ner's place. About the year 1512, he entered student
of Broadgate Hall in Oxford. In 1519, he was ad¬
mitted bachelor of the canon and civil law. About th®.
same
BON [ 784 ] BON
Bonner, same time lie took orders, and obtained some prefer-
meat in the diocese of Worcester. In 1525, he was
1 ■ created doctor of canon law. Having now acquired
the reputation of a shrewd politician and civilian, he
was soon distinguished by Cardinal Wolsey, who made
him his commissary for the faculties, and heaped upon
him a variety of church preferments. He possessed at
the same time the livings of Blaydon and Cherry-Bur¬
ton in Yorkshire, Ripple in Worcestershire, East Der-
cham in Norfolk, the prebend of St Paul’s, and arch¬
deaconry of Leicester. Bonner was with the cardinal
at Caw-wood, when he was arrested for high treason.
Alter the death of that minister, he soon found means
to insinuate himself into the favour of Henry VIII.
who made him one of his chaplains, and employed him
in several embassies abroad, particularly to the pope.
■^n I532, he was sent to Rome, with Sir Edward Kame,
to answer for the king, whom his holiness had cited to
appear in person or by proxy. In 1533, he was again
despatched to Pope Clement VII. at Marseilles, upon
the excommunication of King Henry on account of his
divorce. On this occasion he threatened the pope with
so much resolution, that his holiness talked of burning
him alive, or throwing him into a caldron of melted
lead 5 upon which Bonner thought fit to decamp. His
infallibility did not foresee that the man whom he thus
threatened was predestined to burn heretics in England.
1538, being then ambassador at the court of France,
he was nominated bishop of Hereford; but, before
consecration, was translated to the see of London, and
enthroned in April 1540. Henry VIII. died in 1547,
at which time Bonner was ambassador with the empe¬
ror Charles V. During this reign he was constantly
zealous in his opposition to the pope ; and, in com¬
pliance with the king, favoured the reformation. Hen¬
ry VIII. was not to be trifled with ; but on the ac¬
cession of young Edward, Bonner refused the oath of
supremacy, and was committed to the Fleet j however,
he soon thought fit to promise obedience to the laws,
and was accordingly released. He continued to com¬
ply with reformation •, but with such manifest neglect
and reluctance, that he was twice reprimanded by the
privy council, and in 1549, after a long trial, was com¬
mitted to the Marshalsea, and deprived of his bishopric.
The succeeding reign gave him ample opportunity of
revenge. Mary was scarce seated on the throne before
Bonner was restored to his bishopric; and soon after
appointed vicegerent and president of the convocation.
From this time he became the chief instrument of papal
cruelty: he is said to have condemned no less than 200
Protestants to the flames in the space of three years.
Nor was this monster of a priest more remarkable for
his cruelty than his impudence. When Queen Eliza¬
beth came to the crown, he had the insolence to meet
her, with the rest of the bishops, at Highgate. In
the second year of her reign, refusing to take the oath
of allegiance and supremacy, he was again deprived,
and committed to the Marshalsea j where he died in
1569, after ten years confinement. There cannot be
a stronger instance of the comparative lenity of the Pro¬
testant church, than its suffering this miscreant to die a
natural death. Several pieces were published under his
name.
BONNESTABLE, a town of France, in the de-
3
partment of Sarte, which carries on a great trade in Bonriwta.
corn. E. Long. o. 30. N. Lat. 48. II. ble,
BONNET, Charles, an eminent naturalist, was > Bonnet,
born in 1720 at Geneva, of a French family who had
been forced on account of religious principles to leave
their native country. As he was an only son, his fa¬
ther paid great attention to his education, and finding
that he made little progress at the public schools, both
from a dislike to the dry study of grammar, and deaf¬
ness, with which he was very early afflicted, he put him
under the care of a domestic tutor, and under him hia
progress was rapid and successful in general literature.
At the early age of 16, his attention was so deeply en¬
gaged in the perusal and study of Le Spectacle de la
Nature, that it seems to have directed the bias and taste
of his future studies. The history and the habits of
the ant-lion {formica leaf particularly attracted his
attention, and led him to make his first observations in
natural history. He discovered the haunts of this ca¬
rious insect, watched and studied its manners and ha¬
bits, and added many observations to those of Poupart
and Reaumur. Reaumur’s Memoir on insects happen¬
ing to fill accidentally in his way, he perused it with
great eagerness, and this perusal probably decided his
taste for natural history. To the observations and ex¬
periments of that naturalist, Bonnet added many new
facts which lie had discovered, the detail of which he
communicated to Reaumur, who was not less surprised
than pleased to find so much sagacity and acuteness of
research exhibited in the investigations of a young man
of eighteen.
Young Bonnet had been destined by his father to
the profession of the law; but it was with no small re¬
luctance that he entered op the studies necessary to
qualify himself for that profession. The bias of his
mind leaned too strongly to natural history, to permit
him to occupy his attention with other pursuits. The
study of some of the elementary books on law was
therefore submitted to merely as a task. In the years
1738 and 1739, he sent to Reaumur many interesting
observations on different species of caterpillars ) and in
1740, he communicated a paper to the Academy of
Sciences respecting the propagation or multiplication
of aphides, or tree-lice, without actual conjunction.
This question had been left unsettled by Reaumur. It
was now determined by decisive experiments j and his
paper on the subject obtained for him the honour of be¬
ing admitted a correspondent member of the Academy^
His experiments on the generation of these insects were
conducted with such closeness of attention, and such
minuteness of research, as to injure his eyesight to such
a degree as he never afterwards recovered. In the
year 1741, he instituted a set of experiments, on the
effects that follow the division of worms, and he found
that many species possessed in some degree the same re¬
productive power as the polype. In the following year
his investigations and experiments were directed to the
peculiarities in the mode of respiration of caterpillars and
butterflies $ and he proved that this function was per¬
formed by means of pores to which the name of stig¬
mata has been given. It was about the same time that
he made some curious discoveries respecting the tcenia,
or tapeworm. In the year 1743, when he was raised
to the rank of doctor of laws, he procured a welcome
dispensation
BON
Bonnet, dispensation from the farther prosecution of studies
* ■ '-p which had never been agreeable to him, and which
being no longer absolutely necessary, he relinquished
forever. In consequence of a memoir on insects which
he communicated to the Royal Society of London, the
same year, he was admitted a member of that body.
Next year he published in one work, his observations
on aphides and worms, under the title of Insectology.
To this work he prefixed a preface, in which he exhi¬
bits a philosophical sketch of his ideas concerning the
system of the developement of germs, and the scale of
organized beings. This work was in general well re¬
ceived by the public. The want of delicacy was ob¬
jected to in some journals, which, it was alleged, ap¬
peared in his descriptions of the mode of propagation
of tree-lice.
But the constant labours to which Bonnet had sub¬
jected himself in all his inquiries began to produce very
serious consequences on his health. His eyes particu¬
larly began to be affected with severe pains, and his
general health visibly declined. This not only obliged
him to lay aside the use of the microscope, but also to
forego for a time all reading and writing. Like a
true philosopher, he bore his afflictions with patience.
But he was not idle : for though he was interdicted
from all observation, his mind was fully occupied in
reflection. After some time’s relaxation from his usual
pursuits, he was at last restored to tolerable health and
ease, but he never could employ his eyes with the same
freedom as formerly. About the year 1746, he un¬
dertook a course of experiments on the vegetation of
plants in moss and other substances ; and in the follow¬
ing year his researches were directed to the functions
of the leaves of plants, with the view of ascertaining
the different action of the different sides of the leaves.
Another question in vegetation offered itself to his con¬
sideration. This was the ascent of the sap. And to
determine whether it rose by the bark or wood, he em¬
ployed coloured injections. This investigation, with
some observations which he made on vegetable monsters,
was the foundation of one of his most interesting and
original works, his “ Inquiries into the use of the
Leaves of Plants.” This work was first published in
4to at Leyden in 1754. A supplement was added to
it in 1779.
Observation and experiment had been the first pas¬
sion of Bonnet, yet these now began to give way to
speculation ; and his inquiries in natural history, in
which he had so much studied the nature and genera¬
tion of the lowest part of the scale of beings, led him
to consider the faculties and destination of the highest.
Malebranche and Leibnitz laid the foundation of his"
metaphysical ideas. He engaged deeply in all the dis¬
cussions connected with the history of the human mind;
and. the first fruit of his meditations was a kind of
abridgement of the materials he had collected, under
the title of an “ Essay on Physiology,” published in
London in 1755, but without his name, nor did he
acknowledge it till near thirty years afterwards. This
work contains in a concise form the fundamental prin¬
ciples of his philosophy. It traces the origin and pro¬
gress of the human mind, from the first germ of life to
the developement of all its faculties, the mutual de¬
pendence of which it points out, as deduced from ac¬
tual observation. It enters into the difficult subiect of
VOX.. III. Part II. J f
[ 785 ]
BON
human liberty, and endeavours to reconcile it with the
divine prescience, and the philosophical principle, that 1
every effect must have an adequate cause. From the
essential properties of the activity of the soul, and the
effects of habit upon it, the whole art of education and
government is deduced ; and a system of the former is
laid down, materially different from the usually esta¬
blished methods. It was the freedom with which he
had discussed some of these delicate points, and the fear
of being involved in personal controversy, which indu¬
ced the author to remain so long concealed. It met
with a number of critics, yet its success was brilliant.
I he. next work ol Bonnet was a developement of
pait of the substance of the preceding, viz. the origin
and progress of the mental faculties. After a labour
of five years on the subject, he produced his “ Analyti¬
cal Essay on the faculties of the soul.” This was first
pnnted at Copenhagen in 1760, in 410, at the expence
ol the king of Denmark. In this work, like that of
the abbe Condillac, he takes the supposition of a sta¬
tue organized like the human body, which he by de¬
grees.animates, and shows how its- ideas would arise
from impressions on the organs of sense. This work
was well received by philosophers, though with some it
subjected him to the charge of materialism. To these
he made no reply, but contented himself with proceed¬
ing in those efforts for the service of religion and mo-
lals, to which the best part ol his life was devoted. His
retired and studious habits, together with his deafness
and other bodily infirmities, had ever prevented him
fiom joining in the assemblies of the young and gay j
at the same time they rendered domestic comforts more
essential to him. In 1756, he married a lady of the
respectable family of de la Rive, and with her he pas¬
sed thirty-seven years of that perfect union which re¬
sults from mutual tenderness, directed by good sense
and virtue. The celebrated Saussure was the nephew
of Mad. Bonnet, and it was no small pleasure to her
husband to witness the early display of genius and know¬
ledge in this extraordinary young man.
I he next work ol our author was properly the phy¬
sical part of his great system. It appeared at Amster¬
dam in 1762, under the title of “ Considerations on or¬
ganized bodies,” 2 vols. 8vo. Its principal objects
were, to give in an abridged form all the most inter¬
esting and well-ascertained facts respecting the origin,
developement, and reproductions of organized bodies0; to
refute the different systems founded upon
and to explain and defend the system of germs. This
publication, though well received by philosophers in
general, was, from some suspicion of its principles,
prohibited in I ranee ; but a remonstrance from tire au¬
thor to M. des Malesherbes, then licenser of the press,
caused the interdict to be removed, after a new exa¬
mination. His “ Contemplation of Nature,” which
appeared in 1764, Amst. 2 vols. 8vo, was a work ra¬
ther meant for popular use, in which the principal
facts relative to the different orders of created beings
are displayed in a manner both instructive and enter¬
taining, and set off by the charms of an eloquent style,
with a continual reference to final causesvand the proofs
of wisdom and benevolence in the Creator. It has been,
translated into most of the European languages, and
enriched with notes by several hands, as well as by the
author himself in a new edition.
Sa The
Bonnet.
BON • [ 786 ] BON
The concluding work of Bonnet was his “ Palinge-
nesie Philosophique,” printed at Geneva in 1769, 2
vols 8vo. In this he treats on the past and future
state of living beings, and supports the idea of the sur¬
vival of all animals, and the perfecting of their facul¬
ties in a future state. Attached to this work is “ An
Inquiry into the Evidences of the Christian Revelation,
and the Doctrines of Christianity,” which, with a trea¬
tise “ On the Existence of God,” was published sepa¬
rately at Geneva in 1770. It was likewise translated
into German, and dedicated by the translator to a cele¬
brated Jew, with a summons to him to refute it, or ac¬
knowledge his conviction. Bonnet, who had an invin¬
cible repugnance for controversy, no sooner heard of this
step, than he wrote to the Jew, assuring him, that he
had no share in it} and the two philosophers mutually
agreed to forbear any discussion of a topic in which
their opinions were totally different. The temper of
Bonnet was, indeed, the direct reverse of that which
disposes to contention $ and tranquillity was the great
object of his life. He readily corrected his own er¬
ror’s } and never but once entered into a defence of him¬
self. This was on occasion of a charge of plagiarism
brought against him as having borrowed from Leibnitz
his hypothesis on the resurrection. He had, in the
earlier part of life, made an anonymous attack in the
French Mercury upon Rousseau’s discourse on the ori¬
gin of inequality among men, to which that writer
made a reply j but the controversy went no fur¬
ther.
After having in some measure relinquished specu¬
lative philosophy, he resumed his attention to natural
history, and in I773» published in Rozier’s Journal a
memoir on the method of preserving insects and fish in
cabinets. In 1774 he communicated to the same
journal a memoir on the loves of plants, originating
in the discovery of a kind of cleft or mouth in the
pistil of a lily. Some experiments on the reproduction
of the heads of snails, and of the limbs and organs of
the water salamander, furnished matter for other
memoirs. He also made observations on the pipa
or Surinam toad, on bees, on the blue colour acquired
by mushrooms from exposure to the air, and on various
other subjects in natural history, which agreeably and
usefully occupied his leisure. His reputation was now
fully established. There was scarcely an eminent
learned society in Europe which did not associate
him as a member: and these honours were crowned in
1783 by his election into the small and very select
number of foreign associates of the academy of sciences
at Paris. His literary correspondents were numerous.
Among these were the distinguished names of Reau¬
mur, Du Hamel, De Geer, Haller, Van Swieten, Spal¬
lanzani, and Merian. Though attached by inclina¬
tion to the pursuit of scientific studies in retirement,
he did not entirely withdraw from public duties. He
entered into the great council of the republic in 1752,
and kept his seat in it till 1768, having frequently
distinguished himself by the manly eloquence with
which he supported wise and moderate measures, and
his constant zeal in the cause of morals and religion,
on which he thought the prosperity of the state essen¬
tially founded. The last twenty-five years of his life
he passed entirely in the country, in a simple and uni¬
form mode of living, happy in an easy competence,
and in a small circle of friends. It appears that he Bonnet
was, for some time, engaged in the education of youth, Bonnm’l.
an employment for which he was peculiarly fitted, and
in which he obtained the warmest attachment of his
pupils. The publication of all his works, corrected
and revised, in a general collection, occupied near
eight years of his life, which greatly injured his health,
from the intense application which he bestowed upon it.
This appeared at Neufchatel, in 9 vols 410, and 18 vols
8vo.; and besides the woi’ks already mentioned, con¬
tains a number of smaller pieces, both in natural history
and metaphysics. They are all written in French. It
was not till about 1788 that his constitution, feeble as it
was, visibly gave way. The symptoms of a dropsy in
the chest then began to manifest appearance *, and these
with some intervals, gradually increased upon him, oc¬
casioning a variety of sufferings, which he bore with
great patience and serenity. He died on May 20.1793,
at the age of 73. Public honours were rendered to his
remains by his fellow-citizens, and his funeral eulogy
was pronounced by his learned friend and kinsman, M.
de Saussure.
Bonnet, in a general sense, denotes a cover for
the head, in common use before the introduction of
hats. Bonnets are still used in many parts of Scot¬
land.
Bonnet, in Foi'tijication, a small work consisting of
two faces, having only a parapet with two rows of pa-
lisadoes, at about 10 or 12 feet distance j it is gene¬
rally raised before the salient angle of the counter¬
scarp, and has a communication with the covered way,
by a trench cut through the glacis, and palisadoes on
each side.
B onnet a Pretre, or Priest's Bonnet, in Fortifica¬
tion, is an out-work, having at the head three salient
angles, and two inwards. It difiers from the double
tenaille only in this, that its sides, instead of being pa¬
rallel, are like the queue d'aronde, or swallow’s tail,
that is, narrowing, or drawing close at the gorge, and
opening at the head.
Bonnet, in the sea-language, denotes an addition to
a sail j thus we say, lace on the bonnet, or shake off the
bonnet.
BONNEVAL, Claudius Alexander, Count
DE, known in the latter part of his life by the name of
Osman Bashaw, descended from a family related to
the blood-royal of France, entered himself at the age
of 16 in the service of that crown, and married the
daughter of Marshal de Biron. He made the cam¬
paign of Flanders in 1690 ; but soon after left the
French army, and entered into the Imperial service
under Prince Eugene, who honoured him with an in¬
timate friendship. The intrigues of the marquis de
Prife, his inveterate enemy, ruined his credit, however,
at the court of Vienna, and caused him to be banished
the empire. He then offered his service to the repub¬
lic of Venice and to Russia $ which being declined,
his next tender was to the Grand Signior, who gladly
received him. It was stipulated that he should have a
body of 30,000 men at his disposal j that a government
should be conferred on him, with the rank of bashaw
of three tails, and a salary of 10,000 aspers a-day *,
and that, in case of war, he should be commander in
chief. The first expedition he engaged in after his ar¬
rival at Constantinople, was to quell an insurrection in
Arabia
BON
Bonneyal Arabia Petraea, which he happily effected ; and at his
II return had large offers made him by Kouli Khan, but
Sononia. iie (JhJ not choose to accept them. Some time after,
v he commanded the Turkish army against the emperor,
over whose forces he gained a victory on the banks of
the Danube. But success does not always protect a
person against disgrace, for Bonneval, notwithstanding
bis service, was first imprisoned, and then banished to
the island of Chio. The sultan, however, continued
his friend ; and the evening before his departure made
him bashaw-general of the Archipelago, which, with
his former appointment of beglerbeg of Arabia, render¬
ed him one of the most powerful persons in the Ottoman
empire. In this island he found a retirement quite
agreeable to his wishes; but did not long enjoy it, be¬
ing sent for back, and made topigi or master of the
ordnance, a post of great honour and profit. He died
in this employment, aged 75, in 1747 j and wrote the
memoirs of his own life.
Bonneval, a town of Fi'ance, in the department
of Eure and Loire, which had before the revolution a
fine Benedictine abbey. It is seated on the river Loire,
in E. Long. 1. 30. N. Lat. 48. 10.
BONNEVILLE, a town of Savoy, capital of Fau-
cigny, situated on the north side of the river Arve, and
subject to the king of Sardinia. It is situated at the
foot of a mountain called the Mole, and is 20 miles
south of Geneva. E. Long. 6. 10. N. Lat. 46. 18.
BONNY, imong miners, a bed of ore, difl'ering on¬
ly from a squat as being round, whereas the squat is flat.
See Sq,uat.
Bonny, a town of France, in the department of Loi-
ret, seated at the confluence of a river of the same name
with the Loire. E. Long. 2. 54. N. Lat. 47. 36.
BONONCINI, Giovanni, an eminent composer of
music, for some time divided the opinions of the cono¬
scenti ot this kingdom with respect to the comparative
merits of himself and the great Handel, which gave
» occasion for the following epigram, said to have been
written by Dr Swift ;
Some say that Signior Bononcini
Compar’d to Handel’s a mere ninny ;
Others aver, that to him Handel
Is scarcely fit to hold the candle.
Strange ! that such high disputes should be
’ Fwixt Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.
There is one opera (Italian) published with his name
prefixed to it, entitled Idharnac.es; but whether the
words, or only the music, are his composition, is uncer¬
tain ; and indeed, in the general, the language of those
pieces, written merely for musical representation, is so
extremely paltry, and so opposite to every thing that
can be deemed poetry, that the greatest compliment that
can be paid to the authors of them is, to suffer their
names to lie buried in the shades of obscurity.
BONONIA, in Ancient Geography, a town of Gal¬
lia Belgica, supposed to be the Portus Iccii/s of Csesar,
and the Gessoriaa/m of Mela, and to have had three
diflerent names (Cluverius). Peutinger’s map expressly
calls Gessoriacum Bononia. NowRoufagne. E. Long.
I. 30. N. Lat. 50. 40.
Bononia, a town of Italy, in the Gallia Cispada-
na ; a name probably given by the Gauls, there being
a Bononia in Gallia Belgica. Its ancient name, when
BON
in the hands of the Tuscans, who were expelled by the Bononia
Gauls, was Faisina. In the 563d year of the city the ii
Romans led a colony thither j which, about the begin- J*0"265*
ning ol the Actiac war, was increased by Augustus, and v
is the Colonia Bononiensis of Tacitus. Now Bologna ,*
which see.
Bononia, a town of Pannonia Inferior, between
Mursa to the north-west, and Taurinum to the east.—
Another Bononia, a town of Moesia Superior, on the
Danube ; now Bodon in Bulgaria. See Bodon.
BONONIAN. See Bolonian.
BONOSIANI, or Bonosiaci, an ancient branch
of Adoptiam, in the fourth century, denominated from
their leader Bonosus, a bishop of Macedonia. The Bo-
nosiani were prior to the.Feliciani, and even to Nesto-
rius ; whence some rather consider them as a branch of
Arians. I hey allowed Christ to be no otherwise the
Son of God than by adoption.
BONPOURNICKEL, a coai’se kind of bread used
in Westphalia. See Bread.
BONS hommes, or BoN-hommes, a sort of hermits
of St Augustin, founded by F. de Paula. They were
brought over into England in 1283, by Edmund earl
ol Cornwall, and settled at Ashorug in Bucks, besides
which they had only one house more at Edingdon in
Wiltshire. They followed the rule of St Austin, and
wore a blue habit. The name is said to have arisen
from Louis XI. of France, who used to call F. de Paula,
prior ol the order, Le bon homme. Till then they had
been called the Minimi, or the order of Gyammont.
See Albigenses.
BONITA, Wild Olive of Barbadoes. See
Botany Index.
BONVINCINO, Alessandro, called Le Moret-
TO, history and portrait painter, was born at Rovate in
1514. He was first the disciple of Titian, under
whose direction he studied diligently for some years.
But, having accidentally seen the designs of Raphael,
he felt an elevation of mind that he never had before
experienced. He therefore gave himself up entirely
to study those masterpieces of art and genius ; and his
observations we^e guided with such judgment, as well
as attention, that his improvement was truly surprising,
and he became an exceeding good painter. His works
were eagerly bought up, as being extremely admired
for the tenderness of the penciling j for the correctness
and spirited expression of the figures 5 for the neatness
of the finishing ; and for the rich variety of his drape¬
ries, which usually consisted of velvets, damasks, or sa¬
tins, all copied after nature, and being wonderfully imi¬
tated. He was also equally excellent in portrait, and
by many was placed in competition even with Titian.
He died in 1 £64.
BONUS Henricus. See Chenopodium, Botany
Index.
BONZES, Indian priests. The Tonquinese have
a pagod or temple in each town ; and each pagod has
at least two bonzes belonging to it : some have 30 or
40. These bonzes, in order to distinguish themselves
from the laity, wear a chaplet about their necks con¬
sisting of 100 beads; and carry a staff, at the end of
which is a wooden bird. They live upon the alms of
the people; yet are very charitably disposed ; and main¬
tain several orphans and widows out of their own col¬
lections.
5G2
r 787 ]
The
BOO
Bonze* The bonzes of China are the priests of the Fohists
|| or sect ot Fohi. It is one of their established tenets
that there are rewards allotted for the righteous, and
Y punishments for the wicked, in the next world; and
that there are various mansions in which the souls of
men will reside, according to their different degrees of
merit. But, in order to deserve the favour of heaven,
the bonzes instruct the people to treat the priests with
respect and reverence, to support and maintain them,
and to erect temples and monasteries for them. They
tell them, that, unless they comply with these injunc¬
tions, they will be cruelly tormented after death, and
pass through a disagreeable variety of transmigrations:
in short, that they will be changed into mules, asses,
rats, and mice.
The Chinese bonzes, according to F. le Compte,
are no better than a gang of dissolute idle fellows.
All their aim is to incite people to commiserate their
abject condition : to winch end they have recourse to
several tricks and impostures. When the common
arts of address fail them, they try what public acts of
penance will do. Some of them drag heavy chains
30 feet long after them ; some sit in the highway
knocking their heads against flint stones; others set
particular drugs on fire upon their heads: all these
are several ways of drawing the attention and exciting
the compassion of the people, and they seldom fail of
success.
The bonzes of Japan are generally gentlemen of
the highest extraction ; for when a gentleman of qua¬
lity finds his family grow too numerous, nay, when he
has only two sons, be very often makes the youngest a
bonze, to prevent all domestic broils and confusions.
I hese priests are dressed in various colours; their apart¬
ments are very commodious, and situated in the healthi¬
est parts of the country.
F. Navarette tells us, that the bonzes are obliged to
chastity; and that, on the 2d of April 1667, a Petty
king of Canton had condemned 1 x of them to be burnt
alive for incontinence. He adds, that it was reported
of an empress of the last reigning family, who had a
particular kindness for the bonzes, that she granted
them a dispensation for the use of women during three
days. Jbe bonzes of China, according to the same
author, are computed at 50,000.
BOOBY. See Pelicanus, Ornithology In¬
dex.
BOOK, the general name of almost every literary
composition ; but, in a more limited sense, is applied
only to such compositions as are large enough to make
a volume. As to the origin of books or writing, those
of Moses are undoubtedly the most ancient that are
extant : But Moses himself cites many books which it
behoved to be written before his time.
Of pro fane books, the oldest extant are Homer’s
poems, which were so even in the time of Sextus Em¬
piricus ; though we find mention in Greek writers of
several others prior to Homer; as Hermes, Orpheus,
Daphne, Horus, Linus, Musaeus, Palamedes, Zoro¬
aster, &c.: but of the greater part of these there is
not the least fragment remaining ; and of others, the
pieces which go under their names are generally held,
by the learned, to be supposititious.
Several sorts of materials were used formerly in ma¬
king books : Plates of lead and copper, the bark of
BOO
trees, bricks, stone, and wood, were the first materials
employed to engrave such things upon as men were
willing to have transmitted to posterity. Josephus
speaks of two columns, the one of stone, the other of
brick, on which the children of Seth wrote their in¬
ventions and astronomical discoveries: Porphyry makes
mention of some pillars, preserved in Crete, on which
the ceremonies observed by the Corybantes in their sa¬
crifices were recorded. Hesiod’s works were originally
written upon tables of lead, and deposited in the tem¬
ple of the Muses, in Boeotia : The ten commandments,
delivered to Moses, were written upon stone ; and So¬
lon’s laws upon wooden planks. Tables of wood, box,
and ivory, were common among the ancients : When
of wood, they were frequently covered with wax, that
people might write upon them with more ease, or blot
out what they had written. The leaves of the palm-
tree were afterwards used instead of wooden planks,
and the finest and thinnest part of the bark of such
trees, as the lime, the ash, the maple, and the elm ;
from hence comes the word liber, which signifies the
inner bark ol the trees: and as these barks are rolled
up, in order to be removed with greater ease, these rolls
were called volumen, a volume ; a name afterwards gi¬
ven to the like rolls of paper or parchment.
I bus we find books were first written on stones, wit¬
ness the Decalogue given to Moses: Then on the parts
of plants ; as leaves, chiefly of the palm-tree, the rind
and barks, especially of the tilia, or phillyrea, and the
Egyptian papyrus. By degrees wax, then leather,
were introduced, especially the skins of goats and sheep,
of which at length parchment was prepared ; then lead
came into use ; also linen, silk, horn, and lastly paper
itself.
I he first books were in the form of blocks and ta¬
bles ; but as flexible matter came to be xvrote on, they
found it more convenient to make their books in the
form of rolls : These were composed of several sheets
fastened to each other, and rolled upon a stick, or um¬
bilicus ; the whole making a kind of column, or cylin¬
der, which was to be managed by the umbilicus as a
handle, it being reputed a crime to take hold of the
roll itself: The outside of the volume was called frons;
the ends of the umbilicus, cornua, which were usually
carved, and adorned with silver, ivory, or even gold
and precious stones : The title, riiXAeiois, was struck on
the outside ; the whole volume, when extended, might
make a yard and a half wide, and fifty long. The
form which obtains among us is the square, composed
of separate leaves ; which ivas also known, though lit¬
tle used, by the ancients.
lo the form of books belongs also the internal eco¬
nomy, as the order and arrangement of points and
letters into lines and pages, with margins and other
appurtenances. This has undergone many varieties. At
first the letters were only divided into lines ; then into
separate words ; which, by degrees, were noted with
accents, and distributed, by points and stops, into pe¬
riods, paragraphs, chapters, and other divisions. In
some countries, as among the orientals, the lines be¬
gan from the right and ran leftward ; in others, as the
northern and western nations, from left to right ;
others, as the Greeks, followed both directions, alter¬
nately going in the one, and returning in the other,
called boustrophcdon : In most counti'ies, the lines run
from
f 788 ]
BOO
Books,
from one side to the other; in some, particularly the
Chinese, from top to bottom.
Multitude of Books has been long complained of:
the complaint is as old as Solomon, who lived three
thousand years ago : they are grown too numerous not
only to procure and read, but to see, to learn the names
of, or even to number. England has more to fear on
this score than other countries ; since, besides our own
produce, we have for some years past drained our neigh¬
bours. However, as Bishop Caramuel’s scheme miscar¬
ried, which was to write about an hundred volumes in
folio, and then prevail on the civil and military powers
to oblige all their subjects to read them, we need not
much regret the multitude of books.
As knowledge, however, is naturally advantageous,
and as every man ought to be in the way of informa¬
tion, even a superfluity of books is not without its use,
since hereby they are brought to obtrude themselves
on us, and engage us when we had least design. This
advantage, an ancient father observes, we owe to the
multiplicity of books on the same subject, that one falls
in the way of one man, and another best suits the level
or the apprehension of another. “ Every thing that
is written (says he) does not come into the hands of all
persons : perhaps some may meet with my books, who
may hear nothing of others which have treated better
of the same subject. It is of service, therefore, that the
same questions be handled by several persons, and after
different methods, though all on the same principles,
that the explication of difficulties and arguments for
the truth may come to the knowledge of every one by
one way or other.” Add, that the multitude is the
only security against the total loss or destruction of
books : it is this that has preserved them against the
injuries of time, the rage of tyrants, the zeal of perse¬
cutors, and the ravages of barbarians ; and handed them
down, through long intervals of darkness and ignorance,
safe to our days. Solaque non norunt hcec monumenta
tnori.
Scarcity of Books. Of the scarcity and value of books
during the seventh and many subsequent centuries, the
following curious account is given by Mr Warton in
his history of English Poetry, vol. i.
“ Towards the close of the seventh century (says he),
even in the papal library at Rome, the number of books
was so inconsiderable, that Pope Saint Martin request¬
ed Sanctamund bishop of Maestricht, if possible, to sup¬
ply this defect from the remotest parts of Germany.
In the year 855, Lupus, abbot of Ferrieres in France,
sent two of his monks to Pope Benedict III. to beg
a copy of Cicero de Oratot'e, and Quintilian’s Insti¬
tutes, and some other books : ‘ for (says the abbot)
although we have part of these books, yet there is no
whole or complete copy of them in all France.’ Al¬
bert, abbot of Gemblours, who with incredible labour
and immense expence had collected a hundred volumes
on theological, and fifty on profane subjects, imagined
he had formed a splendid library. About the year
790, Charlemagne granted an unlimited right of hunt¬
ing to the abbot and monks of Sithin, for making their
gloves and girdles of the skins of the deer they killed,
and covers for their books. We may imagine that
these religious were more fond of hunting than read¬
ing. It is certain that they were obliged to hunt be¬
fore they could read : and at least it is probable,
t 789 1
BOO
that under these circumstances, and of such materials,
they did not manufacture many volumes. At the be¬
ginning of the tenth century books were so scarce in
Spain, that one and the same copy of the Bible, Saint
Jerome’s epistles, and some volumes of ecclesiastical of¬
fices and martyrologies, often served several different
monasteries. Among the constitutions given to the
monks of England by Archbishop Lanfranc, in the year
1072, the following injunction occurs. At the begin¬
ning of Lent, the librarian is ordered to deliver a book
to each of the religious : a whole year was allowed for
the perusal of this book j and at the returning Lent,
those monks who had neglected to read the books they
had respectively received, are commanded to prostrate
themselves before the abbot, and to supplicate his in¬
dulgence. This regulation was partly occasioned by
the low state of literature which Lanfranc found in the
English monasteries. But at the same time it was a
matter of necessity, and is in a great measure to be refer¬
red to the scarcity of copies of useful and suitable au¬
thors. In an inventory of the goods of John de Pon-
tissara, bishop of Winchester, contained in his capital
palace of Wulvesey, all the books which appear are
nothing more than Septendecem specieslibrorum de diver*
sis scientiis. This was in the year 1294. The same
prelate, in the year 1299, borrows of his cathedral
convent of St Swithin at Winchester, Bibliam bene
glossatam; that is, the Bible with marginal annota¬
tions, in two large folio volumes ; but gives a bond for
due return of the loan, drawn up with great solemnity.
Ibis Bible had been bequeathed to the convent the
same year by Pontissara’s predecessor, Bishop Nicholas
de Ely : and in consideration of so important a be¬
quest, that is, pro bona Biblia dicti episcopibeneglossata,
and one hundred merks in money, the monks founded
a daily mass for the soul of the donor. When a single
book rvas bequeathed to a friend or relation, it was sel¬
dom without many restrictions and stipulations. If
any person gave a book to a religious house, he believed
that so valuable a donation merited eternal salvation j
and he offered it on the altar with great ceremony.
The most formidable anathemas were peremptorily de¬
nounced against those who should dare to alienate a
book presented to the cloister or library of a religious
house. The prior and convent of Rochester declare,
that they will every year pronounce the irrevocable
sentence of damnation on him who shall purloin or
conceal a Latin translation of Aristotle’s Physics, or
even obliterate the title. Sometimes a book was given
to a monastery on condition that the donor should
have the use of it during his life 5 and sometimes to a
private person, with the reservation that he who re¬
ceives it should pray for the soul of his benefactor.
1 he gilt of a book to Lincoln cathedra], by Bishop
Repingdon, in the year 1422, occurs in this form, and
under these curious circumstances. The memorial is
written in Latin with the bishop’s own hand, which I
will give in English, at the beginning of Peter’s Bre¬
viary of the Bible. ‘ I Philip of Repyndon, late bi¬
shop of Lincoln, give this book, called Petei' de Aureo-
lis, to the new library to be built within the church of
Lincoln : reserving the use and possession of it to Rich¬
ard Trysely, clerk, canon, and prebendary, of Mil-
toun, in fee, and to the term of his life j and afterwards
to be given up and restored to the said library, or the
keepers
Books
BOO [ 790 ] BOO
Books, keepers of the same, for the time being, faithfully, and
—without delay. Written with my own hand, A. X>.
1422.'” When a book was bought, the affair was of
so much importance, that it was customary to assemble
persons of consequence and character, and to make a
formal record that they were present on this occasion.
Among the royal manuscripts, in the book of the Sen¬
tences of Peter Lombard, an archdeacon of Lincoln
has left this entry : ‘ This book of the Sentences be¬
longs to master Robert archdeacon of Lincoln, which
he bought of Geoffrey the chaplain, brother of Henry
vicar of Northelkington, in the presence of master Ro¬
bert de Lee, master John of Lirling, Richard of Luda
clerk, Richard the almoner, the said Henry the vicar,
and his clerk, and others: and the said archdeacon
gave the said book to God and St Oswald, and to
Peter abbot of Barton, and the convent of Barden.’ The
disputed property of a book often occasioned the most
violent altercations. Many claims appear to have been
made to a manuscript of Matthew Paris, belonging to
the last-mentioned library ; in which John Russel, bi¬
shop of Lincoln, thus conditionally defends or explains
his right of possession. ‘ If this book can be proved
to be or to have been the property of the exempt mo¬
nastery of St Alban in the diocese of Lincoln, I de¬
clare this to be my mind, that in that case I use it at
present as a loan under favour of those monks who be¬
long to the said monastery. Otherwise, according to
the condition under which this book came into my pos¬
session, I will that it shall belong to the college of the
blessed Winchester Mary at Oxford, of the foundation
of William Wykham. Written with my own hand at
Buckdane, 1st Jan. A. 1). 1488. Jo. Iffncoln. Who¬
ever shall obliterate or destroy this writing, let him be
anathema.’ About the year 1225, Roger de Insula,
dean of York, gave several Latin Bibles to the univer¬
sity of Oxford, with a condition that the students who
perused them should deposit a cautionary pledge. The
library of that university, before the year 1300, con¬
sisted only of a few tracts, chained or kept in chests in
the choir of St Mary’s church. In the year 1327, the
scholars and citizens of Oxford assaulted and entirely
pillaged the opulent Benedictine abbey of the neigh¬
bouring town of Abingdon. Among the books they
found there, were one hundred psalters, as many grayles,
and 40 missals, which undoubtedly belonged to the
choir of the church : but besides these, there were only
twenty-two codices, which I interpret books on com¬
mon subjects. And although the invention of paper,
at the close of the eleventh century, contributed to
multiply manuscripts, and consequently to facilitate
knowledge, yet, even so late as the reign of our Hen¬
ry VI. I have discovered the following remarkable
instance of the inconveniences and impediments to
study, which must have been produced by a scarcity
of books. It is in the statutes of St Mary’s college
at Oxford, founded as a seminary to Oseney abbey in
the year 1446: ‘ Let no scholar occupy a book in
the library above one hour, or two hours at most, so that
others be hindered from the use of the same.’ The
famous library established in the university of Oxford,
by that munificent patron of literature Humphrey duke
of Gloucestei’, contained only 600 volumes. About
the commencement of the 14th century there were
only four classics in the royal library of Paris,. These
3
were one copy of Cicero, Ovid, Lucan, and Boethius. Book|
The rest were chiefly books of devotion, which inclu- 1 , '
ded but few of the fathers : many treatises of astro-
l°gy, geomancy, chiromancy, and medicine, original¬
ly written in Arabic, and translated into Latin or
French : pandects, chronicles, and romances. This
collection was principally made by Charles V. who be¬
gan his reign in 1365. This monarch was passionate¬
ly fond of reading j and it was the fashion to send him
presents of books from every part of the kingdom of
France. These he ordered to be elegantly transcribed
and richly illuminated ; and he placed them in a tower
of the Louvre, from thence called La Tour de la Li-
braire. The whole consisted of 900 volumes. They
were deposited in three chambers 5 which, on this oc¬
casion were wainscotted with Irish oak, and ceiled with
cypress curiously carved. The windows were of paint¬
ed glass, fenced with iron bars and copper wire. The
English became masters of Paris in the year 1425 ; on
which event the duke of Bedford, regent of France,
sent the whole library, then consisting of only 853
volumes, and valued at 2223 livres, into England}
where perhaps they became the ground-work of Duke
Humphrey’s library, just mentioned. Even so late as
the year 1471, when Louis XI. of France borrowed
the works of the Arabian physician Rhasis from the
faculty of medicine at Paris, he not only deposited,
by way of pledge, a quantity of valuable plate, but
was obliged to procure a nobleman to join with him as
surety in a deed, by which he bound himself to re¬
turn it under a considerable forfeiture. The excessive
prices of books in the middle ages afford numerous and
curious proofs. I will mention a few only. In the year
1174, Walter, prior of St Swithin’s at Winchester, af¬
terwards elected abbot of Westminster, a writer in La¬
tin of the lives of the bishops who were his patrons, pur¬
chased of the monks of Dorchester in Oxfordshire, Bede’s
Homilies and St Austin’s Psalter, for twelve measures
of barley, and a pall on which was embroidered in silver
the history of St Birinus converting a Saxon king.
Among the royal manuscripts in the British museum
there is Comestor’s Scholastic History in French j which
as it is recorded in a blank page at the beginning, was
taken from the king of France at the battle of Poictiers ;
and being purchased by William Montague earl of Sa¬
lisbury for 100 marcs, was ordered to be sold by the last
Avill of his countess Elizabeth for 40 livres. About the
year 1400, a copy of John of Meun’s Roman de la Roxe,
was sold at Paris for 40 crowns, or 33I. 6s. 6d. See
Bibliography, Supplement.
Books, Burning of, was a kind of punishment much
in use among the Romans, by legal sentence : sometimes
the care of the execution was committed to triumviri
appointed on purpose ; sometimes to the prtetors, and
sometimes to the aediles. Labienus, whom from his
satirical spirit some have called Rabienus, is said to
have been the first who underwent the severity of it.
His enemies procured a senatuseomultum, whereby all
his books published during seven years were ordered to
be collected and burnt. “ The thing (says Seneca) then
appeared new and strange, to take revenge on learn¬
ing ?” Res nova et insueta! supplicium de studiis sumi.
Cassius Servius, a friend of Labienus, hearing the sen¬
tence pronounced, cried aloud, “ That they must
burn him too, since be had got all the books by heart
Nunc
BOO t 791 ] BOO
Book. Nunc me vivum urioportet, quia illos didici, Labienus
   could not survive his books, but shutting himself up in
the tomb of his ancestors, pined away, and was buried
alive. Divers other ancient testimonies concerning the
burning of books are given in Reimm, Idea Syst. An°
tiq. Liter, p. 389.
Book is also used for a part or division of a volume
or large work. In this sense we say, the book of Genesis,
the first book of Kings, the five books of Moses, &c.
The Digest is contained in fifty books, the Code in
twelve books.
Books are usually subdivided into chapters, some¬
times into sections or paragraphs : accurate writers
quote chapter and book.
Everlasting B00K.-—We find in Signior Castaquo’s
account of the asbestus, a scheme for the making of a
book, which, from its imperishable nature, he is for
calling the book of eternity. The leaves of this book
were to be of the asbestus paper, the covers of a thicker
sort of work of the same matter, and the whole sewed
with thread spun from the same substance. The things
to be commemorated in this book were to be written in Book,
letters of gold $ so that the whole matter of the book
being incombustible, and everlastingly permanent a-
gainst the force of all the elements, and subject to no
changes from fire, water, or air, must remain for ever,
and always preserve the writing committed to it. He
carried this project so far towards execution, as to find
a way of making a sort of paper from the asbestus, which
was so tractable and soft, that it very well resembled a
thin parchment 5 this, by the same process, was capable
of being thickened or thinned at pleasure, and in either
state equally resisted the fire. The covering of the
thinnest kind of this paper with fire, only makes ifc
red hot and very clear, the fire seeming to pass through
it without wasting or altering any part of it. Copper,
iron, or any other metal except gold or silver, exposed
to the same degree of fire in the same thin plates,
would be found not to bear it in this manner, but to
scale and burn into scoriae at the surface, which this
stone does not.
END OF THE THIRD VOLUME,
.
DIRECTIONS for placing the PLATES of Vol. III.
Part I.
Plate LIX. to LXXXIII. inclusive, to face
LXXXIY.
LXXXV.
LXXXVI. 1
LXXXVII. f
lxxxviii:
LXXXIX. 7
xc. t
XCI. 7
XCII.C
XCIII.
Part II.
Page
184
342
418
442
470
532
712
736
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